Special Saturday Fiction: A New Beginning Final Chapter

Here we are to the final chapter of A New Beginning. That you to those of you who followed me on this journey and for sharing your thoughts. I plan to have the Kindle version of this book up sometime in April after it has been proofed, edited and even revised.


The sun was bright, glistening off the cars in the church parking lot and through the leaves of the trees. Judson’s fingers were intertwined with mine as we walked out of the church, on our way to Edith and Jimmy’s for lunch.

Judson let go of my hand as we walked toward the top step and looped his arm through Jessie’s while she slowly made her way down the front steps.

“Here, Miss Jessie,” he said in his smooth Southern accent. “Let me help escort you down the stairs.

His Southern politeness always sent tingles of adoration rushing through me.

Jessie looked up at him with an expression of delight. “Oh my! Such a Southern gentleman!” she declared.

Judson laughed softly as they progressed slowly to the next step. “Anything for you Miss Jessie.”

“Now, Judson, if that is indeed true, I need to ask you a serious question.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Are you going to marry Blanche soon or what? You two have been holding hands and looking all sweet at each other for quite a while now. I’m not getting any younger and I’d like to see her happily married  before I die. Now, how about you move along and just ask her to marry you already?”

Judson looked startled and laughed. “Well, Miss Jessie. It’s really up to Blanche if she wants to marry me. I’m game if she is.”

Jessie snorted. “’I’m game if she is,’” she said in a mocking tone as she paused on the bottom step. “Will you just listen to that? Young people today, I tell you. What kind of proposal was that, young man? I thought you were a Southern gentlemen. You better do it right.”

Judson grinned, looking at me. A rush of butterflies swirled in my stomach. I recognized that grin as the same one he’d had before he tossed me in the lake the week before and the one that crossed his face when he dropped a fishing lure that looked like a spider on my lap a few weeks before that. What was he about to do?

I pressed my hand against my cheeks in disbelief when he stepped off the last step with Miss Jessie and dropped to one knee in the dirt at the end of the church stairs, in front of everyone walking out of the service. My face flushed warm and I knew it must be red.

“Blanche Robbins,” he said, holding his arms out to his side dramatically, exaggerating his Southern accent even more. “Will you consent to be my wife?”

I walked down the last two steps, Jackson behind me, and stood in front of Judson, unsure if I should laugh or cry.

He leaned closer to me, looked up  and whispered, “I don’t have the ring yet, but Miss Jessie ordered me to do it right and to hurry up about it so I figured I better listen and obey.”

I glanced at Jessie and tried not to laugh. “I’ll consent to be your wife, Judson T. Wainwright,” I said in my best Southern accent, curtseying slightly.

“Whoo-hoo!” Emmy’s voice broke over the splattering of applause from those standing outside the church as Judson stood and drew me close, kissing me gently. “I knew my plan would work,” she giggled. “And it only took three years.”

Miss Jessie patted Judson the shoulder. “Thank you, young man. You’ve made this old lady very happy. Now, don’t take your time planning the big day. Hurry up so I can be there.”

Judson and I laughed as we hugged her.

Several members of the church shook our hands as they walked by to their cars, congratulating us.

Judson leaned close to Jackson, who was now standing behind me. “Hey, buddy, is this okay with you?”

Jackson grinned a familiar mischievous grin, sliding his hands into his front dress pant pockets and leaned against the railing next to the stairs. “I get to call you dad when you two get married, right?”

Judson’s teasing grin faded into a more serious expression. Tears glistened in his eyes. “Absolutely, kid. If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” Jackson said, his tone matter-of-fact and displaying a maturity that surprised me, but also made my heart swell.

Daddy walked toward us, hands in his pockets, standing in a pose almost identical to Jackson’s.

“Well, I guess gone are the days of the man asking the father’s permission first,” he said, a mischievous grin on his face.

Judson looked alarmed and I could tell he was worried Daddy was really upset. “Oh sir, I’m so — ”

Daddy laughed loudly and slapped Judson hard on the back.

“No worries, my boy, I would have given you that permission. You’re like family to us already.”

Judson shook his hand. “Thank you, sir.”

Edith, Emmy and Lily surrounded me, Emmy holding Faith, Lily cradling Alexander.

“We’ve got to start planning!” Edith cried.

“We should have a June wedding,” Emmy said. “Or September. With all the leaves falling down around you. Outside, by the lake, where you first kissed.”

Edith turned to look at Emmy, then back at me.

“You two first kissed at the lake? Why didn’t I hear about this? You mean that weekend we went out there all together?”

I sighed. “We can talk about it on the way to your house for lunch.”

Edith kept talking. “Did he kiss you or did you kiss him? Is that why you were so quiet on the ride to the adoption agency that day?”

I walked toward the car as she continued to talk, laughing, and hugging Jackson close.


“We’re finally giving you the wedding you deserve,” Mama said, smiling through the tears, three months after Judson’s public proposal. “This dress you made is so beautiful.”

She lifted the veil and laid it back on top of my head. “And you are so beautiful too.”

She cradled my face in her hands and kissed my cheek.

“Thank you, Mama.”

Edith was a giddy mess on the other side of the room. “It’s almost time! I am so excited! My little sister is getting married!”

Emmy was almost as giddy. “And now my best friend is going to be my cousin-in-law!”

Lily, whose demeanor had brightened slowly over the last year, smiled in amusement at the giddy display before her, pushing a strand of blond hair off her shoulder.

“You look beautiful, Lily,” I said. “I’m so glad you agreed to be a junior bridesmaid.”

She lowered her eyes sheepishly, her cheeks flushed red. “Thank you for asking me,” she said softly.

I had been apprehensive about Edith and Jimmy bringing Lily home with them, but now I couldn’t imagine life without her. She’d been quiet, withdrawn, and frightened her first few months at their home. Eventually, though, she began to open up more, finding interests that girls her age should have. Her mother had signed papers to make Edith and Jimmy her legal guardians six months earlier.

 Edith enrolled her in school and took care of Alexander during the day, bringing him with her to the shop most days, sometimes asking Mama to help watch him. In the evenings, Lily helped to care for Alexander, changing his diapers, giving him his bath and laying him down at night after his final bottle. Edith and Jimmy both wanted Alexander to call Lily “mom” when he was old enough to talk and referred to themselves simply by their first names. While Lily called them by their first names, I could see that she saw them as her parents.

The door to the Sunday School room opened and Marion peeked around it.

“I have your something old,” she said with a smile.

She stepped into the room and handed me a small, delicate white  handkerchief with pink flowers embroidered in the corners.

“This was my mother’s,” she said. “She gave it to me and now I want to give it to you.”

“Marion, I can’t take this…”

She laughed and winked. “Oh, sure you can. I carried it with me at my wedding with Stanley and so far that’s going well so it must be good luck.”

I tucked the handkerchief into the sash of the dress. “Thank you, Marion.”

“I have your something blue,” Emmy said, sliding a small blue flower into the curls piled on top of my head.”

“And you’re already wearing my something borrowed,” Edith said, gesturing to my shoes. “Don’t forget those are mine. I want them back after the wedding.”

I looked around the room at the women who were and had become family to me, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with emotion. I knew Miss Mazie, Hannah and Buffy were all waiting in the sanctuary with the rest of the guests.

 As a teenager, I’d never imagined myself married and then when I married, I’d never imagined myself divorced. Once divorced I felt my chances at love were gone, but here I was, about to be married again, this time to someone who not only loved me and my son but also God. And here were the women who had helped me through it all, standing with me to rejoice in what I saw as a happy beginning after an unhappy season in my life.

“Okay, come on,” Edith said waving her hands in front of her eyes as tears welled in them. “Blanche is about to cry. Mama is about to cry. I’m about to cry. And if we cry we are all going to ruin our make-up. Blanche, reapply your lipstick and let’s get this show on the road. There is a handsome man upstairs waiting to marry you and a handsome boy standing next to him waiting to hug you both.”

I sat on a bench next to the window and looked in my purse for the lipstick. My hand touched an envelope I had shoved in there earlier that morning. I’d found it in the mailbox and when I saw the postmark, had quickly shoved it in my purse so no one else would see it. I slid it out and looked at it for a few moments before opening it.

“What’s that?” Edith asked, zipping up the back of Emmy’s dress.

“It’s a letter,” I said, staring at the words on the paper.

“From?”

“From Vietnam,” I said softly. “From Hank.”

Edith and Emmy looker at each other and then walked over to stand next to me, looking over my shoulder. Mama and Marion joined them.

Dear Blanche:

Just writing to let you know they shipped me to Vietnam four months ago. I won’t lie, it’s hell over here. I’m getting what I deserve and I know it. If I don’t make it back, tell Jackson his daddy was an idiot for never getting to know him.

Hank

I folded the letter, slid it back in the envelope and slid the envelope between the pages of my Bible, placing Hank where I should have placed him a long time ago – into the hands of God.

I flipped my veil over my face. “Come on, ladies. Let’s go. I have a new beginning waiting for me.”



Fiction Friday: A New Beginning Chapter 34

In case you missed it, I shared Chapter 33 of A New Beginning yesterday. I will be sharing the final chapter in a special Fiction Saturday tomorrow.

In case you missed my short story series, Quarantined, you can find the first part HERE.

You can pick up the first part of Blanche’s story on Kindle for $2.99 (or free until April 10 if you have Kindle Unlimited. )

I’ve also been writing a short story called Quarantined about an estranged couple who get stuck in their house together during a “virus outbreak” without really going into what the virus is or much about the situation surrounding it.


Chapter 34

I hooked my braid up on top of my hair with a hair pin, smiling as I saw Judson’s reflection in the mirror grinning at me.

“Need any help?”

“I think I can manage,” I told him with a smile.

He sauntered toward me and placed his hands on my arms. I looked at our reflection together in the mirror, a mix of contentment and excitement rushing through me. I closed my eyes and leaned back against him as he lowered his mouth to my neck.

“Are you sure we have to go this wedding?” he asked in a husky tone, his mouth now on my ear. “We could just stay here and —”

I turned to face him, laying my finger against his lips. “You know we can’t do that. This is a big day for Marion and Stanley.”

His arms were solid around my waist, his mouth turning upward into a grin under my finger. “I know, but I can dream, can’t I?”

I took my finger away and kissed him, my hands against his chest, reveling in how I could kiss him mouth the way I had wanted to for so long.

“Gross!”

Judson and I laughed at Jackson standing in the doorway with a disgusted expression on his face.

“Come on, we’re going to be late to the wedding,” Jackson grumbled. “You can be all kissy later.”

“Okay, buddy,” Judson said, stepping away from me and ruffling Jackson’s hair.

“Hey! I just combed that!” Jackson laughed, pushing his hand away.

“See you three at Marion’s!” Mama called from her bedroom as she hooked an earring in.

“If your mother ever finishes getting ready,” Daddy whispered as we passed him in the living room.

“I heard that, Alan!” Mama called.

Sitting together inside Judson’s truck a few moments later, Jackson between us, I reflected on how close the three of us had become in the last six months since Judson and I had told each other how we felt. We saw each other almost every day either at lunch at the diner or at dinner at my parents’ house. In some ways, it was like my parents had already made him a member of the family, even without a ring on my finger.

A faint smile crossed my lips as I remembered a day a week ago when Judson had been working on the construction of a new hardware store in town. Two young women had apparently left their office for lunch and were sitting across the park from the site, chatting and watching the work being done.

“Can’t beat the view from here,” the one with her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail said with a wink.

“Oh?” I asked.

“Those construction workers are easy on the eyes,” the other one, a brunette with hair spilling across her shoulders said, popping the top off her Pepsi.

“Are they now?” I asked slyly, following their gaze to where Frankie Benjamin, Tyler Simpson, Emmy’s dad and Judson were busy on the roof.

The two women were sitting at a picnic table, facing the site as they ate.

“Which one would you pick?” the blond asked, taking a small bite from her sandwich.

“Definitely the one in the white tank top,” the brunette answered. “He’s a cutie.”

She was talking about Frankie, who I knew was single and looking.

“For me it’s the one in the blue T-shirt,” the blond said, biting her lower lip.

I watched Judson climb down the ladder from the roof, the blue T-shirt he was wearing highlighting his sculpted upper arms perfectly. His faded blue jeans weren’t looking too bad on him either.

“Which one would you like to go out with?” the blond asked me with a wink.

I smiled, my gaze still focused on Judson. “The one with the blue shirt really is something else, isn’t he?”

The brunette gently tapped her friend in the arm. “I told you,” she said. She looked back up at me. “I’ve been enjoying watching him for two days now.”

“Ah. I see.”

Judson looked up as he started to climb back up the ladder, saw me and smiled broadly before dropping his tools into the back of his truck and heading toward me.

“Oh. My. Gosh.” The brunette tapped her friend in the arm again. “He’s coming this way.”

My heart was pounding as I watched at the way he was watching me as he walked, his smile broad, his eyes intensely focused on mine. When he reached me and placed his hands on either side of my waist and pulled me gently toward him, I felt the same weakness in my knees I’d felt the night we’d kissed on his porch.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the women watching me with surprised expressions.

“Hey,” I said back.

“I missed you while you were gone. Did you have a good trip to see Miss Mazie?”

I giggled. Honestly giggled. Since when had I started doing that?

“I’ve only been gone since yesterday.”

“Yesterday was a long time ago. I’ve had to go all this time without being able to hold you or kiss you. I want to hold and kiss you now but I’m pretty sweaty and I don’t want —”

I knew it was juvenile, but I wanted to make sure those women knew who Judson belonged to, so to speak. Before he could finish his sentence, I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck and pulled his head down to mine.

I let my mouth linger on his lower lip as I pulled away several seconds later, making sure I gave those gawking women a good show.

“This is certainly the best job site visit I’ve ever had,” he said with a small laugh.

“I brought you some lunch,” I told him. “I can head back to the car to grab it if you want.”

He grinned down at me and I let go of his check. “I’d like that,” he said. “Let me get it for you. We can sit on the back of the truck and eat.”

As Judson walked toward Daddy’s car I smiled sweetly at the women. “Enjoy your lunch, ladies.”

I practically skipped toward Judson’s truck, feeling both foolish and giddy, leaving the women watching me with stunned expressions.

I laughed softly at the memory as Judson drove toward Marion’s.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing,” I said. “Just thinking about last week with those women at your job site.”

He smirked. “You mean when you planted one very long, passionate kiss on me to show those women who I belonged to?”

I tipped my head back and laughed while Jackson squirmed.

“Ah, man. Gross. Can you two just knock it off already?”

At Marion’s, guests were already gathering in her backyard for her wedding with Stanley. They had planned a small event with a few friends and family and Pastor Frank officiating.

 “I’m going to go see if Marion needs anything,” I told Judson, walking up the front steps.

Inside the front door, my stomach lurched at the sight of a man talking to Thomas and Midge in the living room. He had the same long nose, green eyes and attractive square jawline as Hank, but his features were softer, his mannerism more relaxed.

Marion stepped off the bottom step of her stairs, her hair piled on top of her head, a flowing, purple dress showing off her slender figure.  

She smiled at me and touched my elbow. “Blanche, come in and say hi to Tom.”

Tom turned toward me, his smile warm and inviting.

“Blanche,” he said stepping forward with his hand outstretched. “Good to see you again.”

It seemed strange I had only met the younger brother of my ex-husband once before, but he’d left the area after high school and hadn’t returned until after his father had passed away. Even when he had returned, his visits had been brief and I often avoided Marion’s during them to make sure she had plenty of time alone with him.

I smiled and took his hand. “Hey, Tom. Looks like we have two Tom’s here today.”

Thomas grinned and winked at me. “Yeah, but I’m the better looking one, right?”

Midge nudged Thomas gently in the side with her elbow. “Oh, Thomas. You’re so silly.”

The way she looked at him, though, showed she definitely thought he was the best looking Thomas in the room.

Hank’s brother laughed good-naturedly at their banter. He looked at Jackson who had walked through the doorway and was now standing behind me.

“Hey, is this Jackson?” He held his hand out and Jackson looked at for a moment, then took it. “Nice to meet you, bud. I’m your Uncle Tom.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jackson said in the adult tone he’d been speaking in more in the last year.  

I could tell he wasn’t sure what to make of the man standing before him and was trying to determine how exactly the man was his uncle, especially since he’d never met him before. It wasn’t lost on me his mental wheels had been turning more now that he was 9-years old, wondering who his biological father really was. He’d seen photos of Hank at Marion’s, knew she was his grandmother and knew most children had two sets of grandparents. More than once he’d started a conversation I thought would end up with a discussion about his father, but at the last minute he’d changed the subject. I struggled with deciding if I should press the subject with him or not.

Tom looked at me and smiled. “I can see you’ve done a great job raising him, Blanche.”

“Thank you, Tom.”

“I hope we can talk later. I’m going to go see where they need me for the ceremony. I’m walking Mama down the aisle.”

I watched him walk across the room to Marion, who was now talking to an attractive red headed woman in a red blouse and white skirt. Tom leaned over and kissed the cheek of the redhead and then smiled at his mother. I let out a long breath, not even realizing until then that I had holding it practically the whole time Tom was talking to me.

I was glad to see him here to support his mother, happy to see how happy it made her, but hoped there weren’t any other surprises in store for me.

“Hey, buddy, I’ve got us a seat in the front row,” Judson told Jackson as he walked inside the house. “It’s a great spot to watch your mom being your grandma’s maid-of-honor.”

My muscles relaxed when we were all outside in the yard, music drifting from a record player Stanley had set up. It had been silly for me to worry Hank might be here somewhere. I knew Marion would have told me. As far as she and I both knew he was in basic training in North Carolina still. We hadn’t heard from him since the night he and Judson had fought outside my shop.

For more than six months I had felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders and I refused to let that weight come back, especially during such a wonderful time for Marion.

I stood behind Marion as Pastor Frank led them through their vows, much like I had with Edith the day she married Jimmy. I watched Stanley watching Marion as the pastor spoke, his eyes brighter than I could ever remember them, his smile warm and only for Marion. A small tremble shuddered through Marion’s hand as he slid the ring on her finger and I knew it was anticipation of good things to come for her life.

When I realized Judson was watching me, I couldn’t read his expression. As our eyes locked a smile flitted across his lips and I desperately wanted to know what he was thinking at that moment. Jackson sat next to him, looking incredibly bored. Next to Jackson sat Lily, a small smile tugging at her mouth as she watched the exchange of the vows. She seemed enamored with the entire process. Edith held Alexander facing out on her lap and he clapped his hands, giggling as Stanley promised to “take this woman and to have and to hold her.”

My gaze slid across the rows at Mama and Daddy holding hands; at Thomas with his arm across the back of Midge’s chair, smiling broadly; at Midge watching him adoringly; at Tom and his wife sitting next to each other and his wife taking his hand in hers, gently rubbing the top of it with her thumb.

Like I had at Edith’s wedding, I felt a twinge of envy at this beautiful moment, at this time when family and friends could show their love and support of Marion and Stanley’s marriage. I’d run off with Hank, so I had never experienced that moment and longed to have a similar experience one day.

Pastor Frank’s voice pulled me from my reverie.

“And now by the power invested in me by the state of Pennsylvania, I pronounce you husband and wife.”

The reception was simple with finger foods and homemade desserts and tables set up around the yard. Lily and Jackson took turns pushing each other on the tire swing and joy rushed through me at the sight of Lily being the child she had probably never had the chance of being before.

“Hey, Blanche.”

I turned with a plate full of cut up veggies and cheese and smiled at Tom.

“It was a really nice ceremony,” I said.

“It was,” Tom agreed. “Listen. . . This is going to sound weird, but I wanted to catch you while I’m here and tell you that I’m sorry for how Hank treated you. I know I didn’t have anything to do with it, but I feel I need to apologize on behalf of my family somehow. He has a lot of anger in him. I know. I had it too. It’s why I stayed away so long.”

He leaned against the tree we were standing next to, folding his arms casually across his chest. “But that anger is like a cancer. It will eat you up inside and destroy you and everyone around you. I almost let it and would have if I hadn’t found God and Mary. I’ve been praying for my brother, hoping he will find his way out of the darkness someday before it’s too late.”

I laid my hand against his shoulder. “Thank you, Tom.”

He nodded then glanced over my shoulder toward where Judson was sitting talking to Mama and Daddy. He looked back at me again with a smile. “It looks like you found someone who will treat you right and I’m so happy for you, Blanche. This new beginning is certainly something you deserve.”

Fiction Thursday: A New Beginning Chapter 33

Welcome to the last week of A New Beginning. I’ll be sharing the last three chapters today, tomorrow and Saturday.

Since we will be moving next week, I don’t know if I will start sharing more fiction next week or the following week. I’ll play it by ear, as the saying goes.

You can pick up the first part of Blanche’s story on Kindle for $2.99 (or free until April 10 if you have Kindle Unlimited. )

I’ve also been writing a short story called Quarantined about an estranged couple who get stuck in their house together during a “virus outbreak” without really going into what the virus is or much about the situation surrounding it.



Chapter 33

It was almost noon when I heard his truck pull into the driveway. I’d barely slept but I tossed the covers aside and rushed to the window, feeling like a young girl again. I sat on my knees, leaning my chin on my arms folded on top of the windowsill.

I watched Judson climb out of the truck and reach in the back for Daddy’s toolbox that he’d borrowed a few days before to repair a broken pipe in his kitchen. Watching the stretch of muscles along his upper arms with longing, I thought about his arms around me the night before and wondered how I should act around him in front of Mama and Daddy.

At that moment I wanted to fly down the stairs and throw my arms around him but cringed at the idea of Mama and Daddy teasing me, or the opposite, looking at me disapprovingly. Even worse might be their declarations that a wedding should be planned immediately.

“Judson!”

Jackson’s voice broke through my thoughts and I watched my son run out the front door and throw his arms around Judson’s waist.

Judson hugged him back with one arm, the other hand holding the toolbox. “Hey, kid! What are you up to?”

“I’m building a model airplane. Want to help?”

“Absolutely. I can’t think of a better way to spend a Saturday.”

I heard the front door open and Daddy greet Judson, ask him about how the repair had gone. I heard Mama in the kitchen ask Judson if he would stay for lunch. It was all so much different than when I had fallen for Hank. Judson was welcome, almost part of the family already. The peace I felt was foreign after courting inner turmoil for so long.

I felt an unexplainable nervous buzz in the pit of my stomach as I walked down the stairs after quickly dressing and dragging a brush through my hair, leaving it down around my shoulders like Judson liked it. 

“There you are sleepyhead,” Mama said cheerfully from the kitchen.

“Long night?” Daddy asked, sitting at the table and picking up a piece of the model airplane.

Judson was leaning against the doorframe in the kitchen, a small smirk tugging at his mouth as he looked at me. He looked amazing, but then again, when didn’t he look amazing? My face flushed warm under his gaze.

“Yes,” I said, my voice sounding higher pitched than I’d meant it to as I walked to the fridge to pour myself a glass of juice.

“How about you, Judson?” Daddy asked as he squeezed a line of glue on an airplane wing. “Long night?”

Judson’s smirk faded. He coughed softly.

“Well, no sir. Just a . . . well, a good night.”

“Mmmhmm.”

It was clear Daddy knew exactly why I was so tired this morning.

“Maybe you two should take a walk,” Mama said, turning around from the sink where she was washing dishes.  “A good stretch of the legs might wake you both up a little bit after your long night.”

Oh my gosh. Mama knows too.

She smiled. “I’ll start lunch and have it ready when you get back.”

Good grief. They were like some kind of creepy parental clairvoyants.

Fallen leaves crunched under our feet in the backyard.

“What was that all about?” Judson asked, clearly amused.

“I’m guessing my parents heard you bring me home,” I said. “They apparently aren’t the heavy sleepers I thought they were.”

Judson laughed. “Well, they can’t be too unhappy, or I’d be being shot at right now.”

We walked toward the fence along the backyard and Judson interlaced his fingers with mine.

He glanced at me and grinned. “Based on last night I guess I don’t have to worry about Thomas stealing you away.”

I tipped my head back and laughed. “Thomas? You were worried about Thomas?”

He shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

I laughed. “Thomas is – well, not as bad as I thought, but he’s still just a huge flirt. And he’s definitely not someone you have to worry about. He is not who has been keeping me awake at night with racing thoughts.”

“Thoughts of me kept you awake at night?”

“Definitely.”

“That’s good to hear since the same thing has been happening to me since I was first reintroduced to you at Emmy’s that day two years ago.” He tipped his head toward the ground. “And maybe off and on since I saw you at Edith and Jimmy’s reception. Of course, back then I thought you weren’t an option because you were married.”

Stopping at the fence, I turned toward Judson, leaning back against it.

“So, are you going to let me take you on a real date now?” he asked.

“I think that would be nice. We still have a lot to learn about each other.”

He stepped closer and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering and cupping my cheek.

“I hope we will have many years to do just that,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.

“You know,” he whispered when he pulled back for a moment. “That day at the movies when I was sitting between you and Sherry, all I could think about was how good your arm felt against mine and how much I wanted to slide my arm around you. I couldn’t even focus on the movie.”

“Oh, really?” A smile tugged at my mouth as I remembered Emmy telling me that day how she thought Judson had been wishing he’d been with me instead of Sherry.

Judson’s lips grazed mine as he spoke. “Oh, yes, really.”

Proving my family truly had horrible timing, I flinched when I heard Mama yelling from the back porch.

“When you two are done kissing, come in and set the table for lunch!”

I dropped my head against Judson’s chest and groaned.

“Oh my gosh. My parents. They are so embarrassing.”

Judson tipped his head back and laughed as he held me against me. He kissed me again before we walked inside for lunch, our hands intertwined again.

After lunch, Jackson and Judson sat at the kitchen table, putting together the rest of the model airplane. I leaned against the door frame, listening to their relaxed laughter and banter.

“I think this part goes,” Judson pressed a plastic wing into place. “right here.”

Jackson looked up at Judson, his green eyes permeated with admiration. I felt confident in that moment that my decision to tell Judson how I felt would be as good for Jackson as it would be for me.

My mind flashed forward, briefly imagining life with the three of us as a family, but I shook my head and turned myself away from the kitchen. It was too early to think that far ahead, too soon after Judson and I had finally established how we felt about each other. I may have dropped my protective walls for Judson, but I wouldn’t let my imagination careen out of control, only to end up in heartbreak like it had before.


Quarantined: (A Short Story Part 4)

So, three things before you read part four of Quarantined. First, this is the fourth part of a six part story. You can find the links here:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Second, are all of you using the new blocks system for writing now? I hated it when they first introduced it and I still somewhat hate it, but I’m getting used to it.

Third, does anyone who uses WordPress know if you can make text single line and indent?

And fourth (I know, I said three, so sue me.), what do you think of the story so far? Let me know in the comments!


QUARANTINED (5)

The smell of bacon and brewing coffee woke him. Sunlight poured across the bedroom floor and Liam squinted in the light, disoriented.

What time was it? He looked down at his wrinkled T-shirt and sweatpants. Had he slept all yesterday afternoon and night here? He snatched his phone from the bedside table. 8:30 a.m., Thursday.

He dragged his hand through his hair and across the back of his neck, which was stiff from laying in the same position for so long. He inhaled deeply to try to wake himself up and smelled the bacon again. And coffee.

Who was making breakfast?

Who else would be making breakfast, Liam? he thought, walking groggily down the hallway. You two are the only ones here, idiot.

Maddie was standing at the stove with her back to him, flipping an over-easy egg. She hated over-easy eggs. It must be for him and for that he was grateful at least.

“Hey,” she said turning to face him, spatula in her hand.

“Hey.”

“I made you some coffee and bacon. Your egg is almost done.”

“You didn’t have to do that. Thanks.”

She shrugged, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. He had thought she would still be mad this morning but instead, she seemed indifferent about it all. She slid the plate across the breakfast bar to him and carried her plate with her to the kitchen table.

“I guess I figured we should have a good breakfast before we get too sick to eat,” she said sullenly, taking a bite of bacon.

He sipped his coffee. Two spoonfuls of sugar and vanilla bean creamer. She knew how he liked it, that was for sure. He was feeling guilty as he dug into the eggs. He needed to tell her the truth. That he didn’t even know if he really had the virus. Maybe he’d wait until their breakfast was done at least, so he didn’t have to dodge the flying frying pan while he tried to finish his cup of coffee.

“Have you heard anything from Matt?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I have a feeling he and John are still trying to put out fires from all this. Maybe they are in quarantine by now too.”

“You’re his press secretary. Shouldn’t you be in on putting out the fires.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but John’s my assistant. I’m sure Matt will be calling soon, pulling his hair out or going stir crazy. One or the other.”

She nodded and finished her toast.

“Have you talked to your parents?” he asked.

She didn’t look at him. She studied her plate of food. “Yeah. They’re fine. Mom is having a hard time keeping Dad from going in and out of stores for supplies and stopping to help everyone he knows, but they’re locked in now, trying to stay well. They’re worried about me, of course.”

Oh, crud. He had to tell her so she could tell her parents there was a chance she might not catch the virus. There was a good possibility she might kill him, but he had to tell her.

“Maddie, listen. . .” She turned her head to look at him. He cleared his throat. She cocked an eyebrow. This was going to be rough.

“There’s a possibility I don’t have the virus.”

Her eyebrows sank into a scowl and she pursed her lips, looking at him for several moments before she spoke.

“I’m sorry?”

“The doctor who took the test said he’d have the results in a couple of days but that there was a chance I didn’t have it.”

“You told me you had the virus, Liam. Had it, not might have it. You yelled it at me, in fact.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just —”

“It’s just, what? You told me it was positive. Are you telling me now that you lied to me?”

“Yes but listen … I just didn’t want to talk about it. I know I should have cleared it up, but I needed you to stay in the house and I figured you wouldn’t listen to me if I said I might have it. If you’d left and someone found out it could have been bad for Matt.”

Her eyes were ablaze with fury now, crimson spreading up her cheekbones. “I have been sitting here waiting to feel sick, looking up ways to deal with the coughing and the fever if one of us gets it and you still don’t know if you really have it? Holy crap, Liam. Really?”

“I was still exposed. This is still the right thing to do.”

“That’s not the point. The point is you lied to me. Again.”

“Again? What are you even talking about?”

She turned away from him, standing up from the table, and walking to the window. She crossed her arms tight across her chest, her back to him. “Why did you want this divorce?” she asked, her voice strained.

“What?”

“I said why —”

“I heard what you said, Maddie. I’m not the one who asked for this divorce. You are. Remember?”

“Only because I knew you wanted it.”

“You knew I wanted it? You never even asked me what I wanted. You never ask me what I want.”

“I could tell by how you acted that you didn’t want to be married anymore.”

He pushed his plate and mug away from him. He couldn’t even believe what he was hearing.  Standing from the breakfast bar and faced her with his hands on his hips.

“Okay. Yeah. Whatever. You know what? Just go ahead and make decisions for me, like you always do, Maddie.”

She turned to face him, her arms falling to her side. “What are you even talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

There went that eyebrow again. “No, actually, I don’t.” She gestured in front of her as if she was conducting a magic trick. “Enlighten me.”

That was it. He’d had enough of her acting like he was the one guilty for the collapse of their marriage.

“Like how you decided we weren’t going to try for any more children, for one.”

She was talking through clenched teeth now. “I did not decide that, Liam. You decided that by running off to run Matt’s campaign and never being home.”

“You pushed me away, Maddie. You acted like you were the only one who’d lost those babies.”

Maddie looked stunned. Her face flushed an even darker red, her eyes swimming with tears.

“I needed you, Liam! I needed you to hold me and tell me it was going to be okay and —”

“I did hold you. I did tell you it would be okay.”

“At first yes, but it was like after a while my grieving just pissed you off.”

He carried his empty breakfast plate and coffee mug to the sink. “We needed to move on, Maddie. We couldn’t wallow in our misery forever.”

He grabbed the pan from the stove next, turning to place it in the sink too.

“Our misery?” Maddie shook her head in disbelief. “I was the one who carried those babies, who lost those babies, whose body failed her, who —”

Liam’s blood boiled. He slammed the pan down on the countertop by the stove and swung to face Maddie. “They were my babies too dammit.”

Maddie stepped back, hugging her arms tight around her, gulping back a sob.

“Yes, it was our misery. It wasn’t all about you,” he continued, his voice shaking with anger. “We made those babies together and we lost them together and I stopped trying to comfort you because nothing I did helped you. I could never do anything right and —”  Liam cursed again, furious at the emotion choking his words, the tears burning his eyes. “I couldn’t fix you, Maddie. I couldn’t make it right. And eventually I couldn’t fix us, and I gave up trying because I didn’t think you wanted me to fix us.”

Maddie dragged her hand across her face and turned to walk back into the living room, bone chilling exhaustion rushing over her. How could he say that? That she didn’t want him to fix them? That she didn’t want to fix this marriage? He was the one who — she shook her head, sitting on the couch, tears rolling down her face. She curled up in a ball, facing the back of the couch, pulling her mother’s quilt off the back and draping it over her.

“That’s what you always do, isn’t it?” he snapped, walking into the living room. “Just walk away and never deal with anything.”

She flung the quilt off her and sat up. “I never deal with anything? And what have you been doing to deal with things? Burying yourself in your work instead of dealing with your life at home, with your marriage that was falling apart was dealing with things? You could have fooled me. Flirting with staffers and reporters instead of coming home and facing the disaster that was our relationship. Was that how you dealt with things too?”

Liam made a face and scowled at her. “Flirting with who?”

“You know who. Wendy. That little redhead from channel 12.”

Liam scoffed. “Wendy? I never flirted with her. She’s not my type.”

“I guess all those female staffers in your brother’s office that you wink at aren’t your type either.”

“That I wink at? I don’t wink at those women and no, they aren’t my type either. Most of them are airheads.”

“Then who is your type? Because it definitely isn’t me or I wouldn’t,” Maddie’s voice cracked and tears filled her eyes again. “be home alone every night in our bed.”

Liam placed his hands on his hips and tipped his head. “Come on, Maddie – it’s not like I haven’t been alone too. It’s not like I’m getting any. I haven’t for a long time.”

He tossed his hands out in front of him then clenched them into fists and pressed them against his mouth. “You know what? I’m just done talking about this. We are getting nowhere. I’m going into my office to get some work done.”

The slamming of the door reverberated in her ears.

“Now who’s walking away from his problems?” she snapped under her breath, falling back onto the couch and pulling the quilt over her again.

Quarantined: (A Fictional Short Story Part 3)

This is a short story inspired by current events. You can find Part 1 here and Part 2 here, if you want to follow along. This is a six-part story (possibly five if I combine two parts). For anyone following A New Beginning, the last three chapters will be on the blog Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.

QUARANTINED (4)

“It’s going to be okay, Maddie. We’ll try again.”

Liam’s voice had been warm, comforting, reassuring. His arms around her made her feel like her world wasn’t crumbling under her feet when she knew it actually was. He gave her hope, hope that one day they’d carry a pregnancy to term and they’d have a child of their own. But that had been four years ago, after their second miscarriage, and now, with a divorce looming like a dark specter on the horizon, Maddie had lost all hope of ever having children. She was 32, almost 33. Soon she’d be too old for children. The mere thought of dating again, of finding someone she wanted to have children with exhausted her.

Liam had been the only one she’d ever wanted to have children with.

Walking slowly around the culdesac, her head down, she knew that Liam was still the only one she wanted to have children with. Despite all the anger, all the hurt, all the ways he’d rejected her over the years, she wanted nothing more than for him to want her again. She knew that wasn’t going to happen, though. He’d barely flinched when she’d told him she wanted a divorce six months ago.

“Fine,” he’d said, jaw tight, looking away from her. “If that’s what you want, I’ll call Pete in the morning and he can start drawing up the paperwork.”

“It is what I want,” she’d responded.

It had been a lie. She hadn’t wanted a divorce. She’d wanted to shake him out of his complacency, to force him into realizing how much he’d neglected her for the past four years. Her plan had failed miserably. Instead of begging her to stay, he’d practically packed her bags. He’d called his lawyer, suggested a lawyer for her and told her they would need to decide who got what in terms of possessions, property, money.

“Of course you can have the house and I’ll provide alimony for you if you wish,” he’d told her, a stoic expression on his face, his voice practically monotone. “And I’m sure the process will be easier since . . .” He’d glanced up at her then, looking at her for a few moments. He’d swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Since there aren’t any children involved.”

That’s right, Liam, she had wanted to scream. There aren’t any children involved because you practically abandoned me for your career after my last miscarriage. You pushed me off for years when I asked when we could start trying again. You replaced me with conference calls and press conferences and political prestige within your brother’s crooked political circle of influence.

Maddie kicked at a rock on the sidewalk and felt tears clutching at her throat. “You replaced me, Liam,” she whispered as she walked. “The girl you said you’d always love because I’m the only one who ever made you feel like you were loved unconditionally.”

The tears came suddenly and she wiped at them furiously, afraid someone would see her and think she knew something they all didn’t because of who she was married to. She dreaded going back to the house, back to the husband who was shut up inside, not only inside the house, but inside himself.

Still, she couldn’t walk out here all day. She was actually tired. It had been a long week and she was feeling run down. She needed to rest, to keep her strength up in case she really did catch something from Liam. She walked slowly back to the house, making sure to wipe the tears from her face before she went back inside. The last thing she needed was Liam seeing her tears and asking her what was wrong, pretending he cared, when she knew he didn’t and hadn’t for a very long time.

It was quiet back inside the house. She breathed a sigh of relief and tossed her coat onto the couch. Finally some peace and quiet. Liam had probably locked himself in his office to start working on press releases with John and Matt. She glanced at the office door as she sat down and saw it was open. She couldn’t hear Liam talking or typing away on his computer.

She groaned softly as she stood, a sharp pain shooting down her upper back. She stood and waited for the pain to subside, knowing it was stress-induced. She hunched her shoulders and clenched her jaw when she was angry or upset and she knew it was putting a strain on her back. She walked gingerly down the hallway toward Liam’s office and out of the corner of her eye she saw him in the spare room, asleep on his back, a pillow hugged to his chest. She paused and leaned against the doorway. She remembered her friend Annie telling her how peaceful her children looked asleep, how easy it was to forget their misdeeds from that day when she saw them vulnerable and relaxed in their bed.

Liam looked peaceful.

Vulnerable even.

The lines she was so used to seeing stretch across his forehead were smooth, barely noticeable. His mouth was slightly open, but he wasn’t snoring, something he’d never done, and she was grateful for. His eyelashes had always been unusually long for a man, but not too long to be unbecoming. Strands of dark brown hair laid across his forehead, the rest of it swept back due to his supine position.

A small smile pulled at Maddie’s mouth. Memories pushed their way into her thoughts, against her will. Hands clutching, mouths touching, soft gasps, clothes on the floor, a long, contented sight and then a loud crash as the boards that held the bed up at their first apartment broke and sent the bed, and them, crashing down. They’d laid there, the bed at an angle, their heads down, their feet up, startled expressions on their faces, their naked bodies intertwined. Then they’d burst into laughter and held each other, laughing even as they dragged themselves from the wreckage of the bed.

“The couch doesn’t have wooden slats,” he’d said, eyes flashing with a mischievous glint.

He grinned.

She smiled.

He’d taken her hand and they’d rushed to the room that served both as a kitchen and a living room and resumed their undressed rendezvous.

He sure knew how to touch her back then. How to caress her, where to kiss her, how to hold her and just what to say to make her feel safe and loved. That first year of marriage. It all seemed like a lifetime ago. She touched her fingers to her throat, realizing her heart was pounding fast and she’d flushed warm at the memories. Her gaze drifted over his form on the bed, his strong shoulders, long legs, perfectly shaped mouth. She couldn’t deny he still did something to her insides; that he still lit a fire of passion within her that made her head feel a little funny, her stomach flip flop.

Her eyelids were even heavier now. She yawned, walking back to the couch for a much-needed nap and maybe later a Cary Grant movie and a cup of hot chocolate.

Quarantined: (A Short Fiction Story Part 2)

I posted the first part of this short story, inspired by current events, Sunday. It’s been a distraction for me to write it and maybe it will be for people to read too.  You can find more of my fiction HERE and on Kindle.

 

QUARANTINED (4)

The front door crashed closed, rattling the hinges. Liam stared after his wife, jaw tight, heart still pounding from adrenaline. He shook his head, trying to relax his jaw, still clenched in anger.

Holy heck that woman is so  . . . he struggled for the word as he turned and walked toward the small flight of stairs that led to his office.

Evil.

That’s what she was, or what she had become anyhow.

Evil, cold, bitter.

None of those things were how he would have described her when they’d married ten years ago, but now he couldn’t think of any other way to say it. She was mean. Flat out mean. And distant and cold and —whatever.

He didn’t want to think about it.

He had other things to think about.

Work for one thing.

He still needed to help John write a press release for Matthew’s statement to the media, updating them on restrictions that had been placed in his district to try to reduce the spread of the virus. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why so many restrictions were being placed but that wasn’t his job. His job was to make his older brother Matt look good and that’s what he was going to do.

He reached John’s voicemail.

“John, hey, it’s Liam. Give me a call when you get this. Let me know what the latest is. I’ve started the release and need to fill in the details. You’ve got my number.”

He swiped the end button and set the phone down, pushing his hands back through his hair. He was going stir crazy in this house. Maybe he needed to talk a walk like Maddie, or a run. A run would sweat out the virus, which he wasn’t sure he even had, and it’d also help him focus on something other than the tension between him and his soon-to-be ex-wife.

Ex-wife. That definitely sounded weird. But it was needed. He and Maddie hadn’t been connecting for years. It was time to move on, shake the dust off his feet, so to speak.

He’d told Maddie he had the virus when he wasn’t even sure if he did. He screamed it at her when she’d asked where he’d been all night and why he hadn’t been there for their planned discussion about the final numbers for alimony.

“I have the virus, okay?!” he’d yelled, standing in the doorway. “I’m in quarantine for 14 days and the doctor said you’re stuck here with me because you’ve been exposed already. We have to put up with each other for two weeks, maybe longer, so maybe you can just get off my back for once and shut up.”

Her angry expression had faded into a look of shock. “I have to stay here with you? Why? So, I can get it too?! Well, that’s just great!” She’d tossed her notepad and pen across the room at him, missing him by two inches. “I am so looking forward to getting sick with you.”

“I don’t even have any symptoms,” he’d shouted back. “You probably won’t get any either so don’t worry about it.”

So far, the test had only been preliminary but there was no denying he’d been exposed to it. The ambassador from Italy had been at a meeting with him two weeks ago and had already been diagnosed. Liam had shaken his hand and even sat next to him at dinner. There was no chance he wasn’t going to develop it, symptoms or not. That meant he hadn’t lied to Maddie when he’d told her he had it.

The doctor told him that based on his age and overall good health, it was most likely that his case would be mild if he did have it. They couldn’t take a chance he’d spread it to others who were more vulnerable, though, so they’d send him home and told him to self-quarantine. He knew it wouldn’t have looked good for Matt if he’d tested positive and kept going to work, possibly exposing others.

He’d cursed all the way home, wearing a mask on the subway, everyone around him scowling at him like he’d released a biological weapon in their midst.

He spun his phone around on the top of his desk and then shoved it away from him and slapped the top of the desk in frustration. He couldn’t just sit around waiting to get sick. He had to do something to occupy his mind until Justin called him back. Or Matthew. He hadn’t heard from his brother since the night before. He was sure Matthew was busy with meetings and phone calls and would call him later.

He couldn’t focus on work anyhow. His mind was racing and being in the same house with Maddie longer than a couple of hours wasn’t helping. He couldn’t deny that he’d been avoiding home for months even before they’d agreed to the divorce. He wished he could avoid it now. He glanced out the partially open door across the hall at the spare room. He should really start cleaning that room out now. He was going to have to anyhow when he officially moved to the apartment he had already rented on the other side of the city.

He’d agreed to give Maddie the house in the divorce. He didn’t need it. It was too big for just him and he didn’t have plans on getting into another relationship anytime soon. Honestly, he was looking forward to some solitude after years of walking on eggshells around the woman he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with.

He started opening boxes, tossing papers into a trash bag he’d grabbed from the kitchen the day before. Old speeches, stained copies of his resumes, press releases from his brother’s campaign. He tossed them all. They weren’t needed anymore.

The last box in the stack by the window was covered in a layer of dust and he blew it off as he picked it up, coughing and shaking his head. What had he been thinking blowing the dust all over? Like he needed dust in his lungs if he had a virus growing in there too. He flipped the lid off the box and looked inside. Old bills, bank statements from six years ago, birthday cards from his family, and a stack of envelopes tied together with twine. He tossed the statements and bills in the trash bag and flipped through the birthday cards. He ended up tossing them too. He appreciated them but he couldn’t keep everything. It was getting ridiculous.

He held the letters, his eyebrow furrowed. What were these and why were they hidden in this box? He worked the twine loose and one fell off the top to the floor. He reached down and picked it up, looking for a name on the front. Finding none he slid out the letter he found inside.

 

Liam:

I won’t lie, I feel so weird writing this letter, but I haven’t been able to think about anything but you all week. I really enjoyed our night together, especially our dance alone in the courtyard outside the restaurant. I didn’t notice before that moment how blue your eyes are or that scar at the edge of your jawline. I hope we can meet again soon and you can tell me how you got it.

Classes are almost done for the semester. I have decided to stick it out with the communications major, though I’m still not sure what I want to do with it. I’ll be spending my summer break at home, probably working at the ice cream stand again. What will you be doing this summer? I hope you’ll write me back and let me know.

 

Sincerely,

Maddie

P.S. Is sincerely too cold of a way to sign a letter to a person you were kissing only a couple of days ago?

P.P.S. I fall asleep every night thinking about that kiss.

 

Liam slid the letter back into the envelope and shook his head. Those words had been written a lifetime ago. When was the last time Maddie had thought of him in that way? He didn’t even know, but he knew it had been a long time since he’d thought of her that way. He stared at the envelope, remembering that night in the courtyard, his arms around her waist as they swayed, her hair cascading down her back and the way she’d laid her head against his shoulder and he’d breathed in the citrus smell of her shampoo.

The rest of the world had faded away and it was as if they were the only people in the courtyard, even though a few other people were dancing in the courtyard too, to the impromptu concert a couple of street formers were putting on. Her skin was so soft, her lips even softer when he’d touched her under her chin and she’d looked up at him and he’d leaned down to kiss her.

He’d wanted that kiss to last forever and it had only ended because the sky had abruptly opened up and sent them running to his car, laughing and soaked when they’d climbed inside. They’d resumed the kiss for several passionate moments, steaming up the windows and then he’d driven her back to her dorm room, his body aching to hold her again as he watched her walk inside.

He sat on the floor by the window, crumpling the letter in his hand and tossing it across the room. He opened another box.

Photo albums.

No way.

He was not looking at those and letting any more memories swirl in his already jumbled mind. That’s all they were — memories of what used to be, not the reality of what was now. The people in these photos were ghosts. They were ghosts of who he and Maddie used to be. They weren’t who they had become, who they were now; two people who had once loved each other, but no longer did.

He snatched one of the albums up and started to toss it toward the garbage bag. It wasn’t like Maddie would miss them. She never even came into this room. There had been a thick layer of dust on this box just like the one with the letters.

A photo slid out of the album as he started to toss it and it skidded across the floor, face up. He glanced at it as he reached down to pick it up. A smiling Maddie on the beach, her hair down her back, her head tipped back and her bare throat exposed. The memory came against his will.

It was their first trip together.

Spring break.

Sophomore year of college.

On the beach.

Florida.

“Should I pose like this?” Maddie’s hand was on her hip, one leg pushed out slightly from the other, knee bent. She’d tipped her head back and laughed, the sunlight dancing across her curls. He’d snapped the shutter.

“Yep,” he’d said, completely under her spell. “Just like that.”

She’d laughed at him, playfully slapped her hand across his upper arm.

“You did not take that photo! I looked like such a goofball! You better delete that.”

He grinned and pulled her in for a kiss. “Nope. That one is my favorite so far. I’ll keep it forever and never forget the way you smiled at me in the sun on this gorgeous spring day on this gorgeous beach.”

Her smile had faded into a more serious expression and then she’d tipped her head up and pressed her mouth to his, tugging gently at his bottom lip when she’d pulled back. He’d almost exploded with desire.

He tipped his head back, closing his eyes as he remembered that kiss. It had been an amazing, mind-blowing kiss. One for the record books, he liked to tell her for years afterward.

God, she had been beautiful that weekend. Long, red-blond hair that cascaded down her back in waves, pale white skin that seemed to glow in the sunlight. He’d been head over heels, though he knew part of it had been his libido speaking. He’d wanted to spend the whole weekend with her in bed, but he knew she’d have none of it.

She hadn’t been raised that way. For her, sex was something only had after the marriage was final. He’d sighed and rolled his eyes when she’d first told him but gradually he’d accepted it, remembering his own upbringing and how his parents had urged the same for him. Maddie was worth waiting for, he’d decided, and he’d compromised with long walks and extended make-out sessions on the beach before bidding her a good night outside her own hotel room.

He’d been right. Maddie had been worth waiting for. They had spent two years dating getting to know each other beyond a physical connection and on their wedding night they’d casted aside any physical expectations, instead simply enjoying each touch, each kiss and each rush of pleasure at just being able to be together.

Liam leaned his head forward, opening his eyes to look at the photo again. He could barely remember the last time he’d made love to Maddie. Sure, they’d had sex once or twice in the last year, but it’d been rushed, distant, cold even. It had been for their individual physical needs and nothing more. He knew that and he hated it. He clutched at his hair and flicked the photo across the room.

He hated who he had become, and he hated that it had affected his marriage more than he ever thought it would. He and Maddie had been so young when they’d married, so full of naïve idealism. They were going to change the world together. They’d buy a home in the suburbs, raise two children (a boy and a girl, of course), both have successful careers in communications and take amazing family trips to Europe every summer. That’s what they told themselves anyhow.

But now, they were barely talking. They’d never had any children. Maddie had had two early miscarriages and then they’d taken a break for a year or more, deciding they’d try again when life settled down. That had been four years ago, and life had never settled down. Matt had been elected as a U.S. Congressman, he’d hired Liam as his press secretary and Liam had started spending more time in Washington and less time at home in the suburbs with Maddie.

Liam yawned and pushed himself up from the floor, staggering toward the bed that had been shoved over to the other side of the room, in the middle of the boxes and bookcases. It was the bed he’d been sleeping in since Maddie had told him she wanted a divorce. It had been a long week. He was exhausted and knew the walk down memory lane wasn’t helping to calm his jumbled thoughts. He didn’t even bother undressing when he reached the bed. He flopped down on top of the covers on his back, closing his eyes.

Maybe I should stay awake until Maddie gets back, he thought as sleep started to overtake him. But he couldn’t fight the sleep and his thoughts swirled together with dreams of the way life used to be.

Quarantined: A Short Story Part I

QUARANTINED (2)

“I can’t believe I have to self-quarantine. I don’t even have symptoms.”

Maddie Grant glared at her husband over the edge of her book.

“It’s not like I’m happy with you being stuck here either,” she mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, I heard you. And I get it. I don’t want to be stuck in this tiny house with you as much as you don’t want to be stuck here with me.”

“We wouldn’t be stuck here if you hadn’t gone to that stupid political rally.”

“I went to that stupid political rally because it’s part of my job, Maddie. Remember what that is? A job.”

Maddie slammed her book closed. “I have a job, Liam. It’s called being a writer. I work from home. So, excuse me I’m not some big political influencer like you. Because you’re really making a difference in this world.”

Her comments dripped with sarcasm and bitterness. Liam whipped around to face her.

“What, like you? Your stupid romance novels are making a real difference in the world right? Maybe in the world of lazy, pathetic housewives. Give me a break.”

Maddie stood, slapping the book on the top of the coffee table as hard as she could. She pointed aggressively at him. “If it wasn’t for you, we’d be divorced by now. I’m calling my lawyer and seeing if we can sign these papers electronically.”

“We can’t sign them electronically. I already asked my lawyer. We have to go over the settlement details.”

Maddie cocked one leg slightly and folded her arms tight across her chest. “You can have it all if it means I can get rid of you. I’m going for a walk.”

“You’re not supposed to go for a walk,” Liam snapped, hands on his hips. “We’re supposed to be in the house for 14 days to make sure we don’t expose anyone else. If someone in the media finds out we’re going out for walks they’ll smell blood in the water and be all over it. It could look bad for Matthew.”

Maddie snatched her coat off the hanger by the door. “I can go for a walk,” she said through clenched teeth. Her tone was mocking. “I’ll stay six feet away from anyone I see, okay? I’ll even wear a hat and sunglasses so I don’t ruin the careers of you or the illustrious Rep. Matthew Daniels.”

“What happened to you, Maddie?” Liam called after her. “How did you become such a bitter person?”

Maddie turned on her heel and walked back into the living room. “I’m sorry? How did I become so bitter? Maybe you should be asking how you became so distant. Maybe you should be asking how you became so preoccupied with your career and your reputation and the reputation of your stupid older brother. Maybe you should ask yourself what it has been like for your wife to sit here at home alone almost every night and every weekend while you’re out flitting around with sexy little reporters and congressional staffers and —”

Liam scoffed. “Oh please. That’s such crap. I invited you to those events plenty of times. You just wanted to sit here with your computer and your Twitter followers. You could have cared less about what was going on in my life and my career. You haven’t cared for a long time.”

Anger coursed through Maddie at each word Liam spoke. Why would she want to attend events where she stood in the corner while he kissed the butts of every politician in the room and laid his hands on the backs of female staffers as he talked to them and winked at then?

Winked. Yes, he winked at them.

Always that stupid, fake wink that spoke volumes about his relationship with those women when Maddie wasn’t around. She couldn’t remember him ever winking at her; not in the 15 years they’d known each other and the ten they’d been married.

Now here she was, stuck in her house, her safe haven, with him for the next 14 days because he wouldn’t listen to the warnings about this virus spreading across the country and kept meeting with clients and politicians and the media.

She snorted. The stupid, pain in the butt, fear-mongering obnoxious and arrogant media, which for Liam mainly meant that red-headed reporter from the local NBC affiliate he spoke to all the time.

“Oh, Liam, you’re always so good at keeping me in the loop,” she cooed through the speaker on his phone that one day from his office in the back of the house.

“No problem, Wendy. You’ve always been good to us. I’m glad to give you the scoop.”

Maddie had heard a tenderness in Liam’s voice toward Wendy Jenkins that she hadn’t heard toward her in years.

In truth, it was Liam who hadn’t cared about Maddie’s life for a very long time. He was never interested in her writing or her accomplishments and had barely looked up from his paperwork when she told him she’d surpassed her personal goal for ebook sales last year.

“Hmm? Oh, that’s great, hon’,” he said, tapping his pen against his bottom lip.

Maddie had stared at that pen on that bottom lip for several moments, remembering how those lips used to press against hers, but hadn’t for months now, not longer than a quick peck on the way out the door anyhow.

“Yeah. I thought so,” she said softly, knowing he really didn’t care.

“That’s a big thing for a self-published author, right?” he asked, flipping another page of the packet in his hands, his eyebrows furrowed.

She shrugged, a twinge of annoyance hitting her square in the chest, his mention of the words self-published smacking of a back-handed compliment to her.

She’d walked away and left him to continue his work, reviewing speeches or gathering dirt on a political opponent, she wasn’t sure which.

Now, standing across from him while he shouted at her, veins popping up along the top of his forehead and along his neck, she was sick of it all. Sick of all the times she’d felt rejected and pushed aside. Sick of all the times she’d felt like she was competing for his attention with television cameras and self-serving, power-hungry politicians. Sick of the way he’d made it clear she wasn’t a priority to him anymore.

When he’d found out his diagnosis, he hadn’t even expressed concern she might catch the virus as well and actually develop symptoms, unlike him. He’d simply ranted about how ridiculous all this quarantining and so-called social distancing was and how it was going to make his job even more difficult since he’d have to do all his work from home.

What about her and how it was going to affect her? All her quiet writing time had evaporated the moment he’d announced he’d have to conduct business from their house for the next two weeks, maybe even longer. He’d never finished that private office he’d promised her all those years ago, instead filling the spare room with documents and political books, plastering the walls with photos of his clients. And to top it all off now they couldn’t meet with their lawyers and sign the final paperwork for their divorce, which she had hoped would have been finalized before mandatory quarantines went into effect.

She stomped out of the room and toward the front door, wishing she had taken her friend Amelia up on her offer to stay there during the quarantine.

“I’m single, no children and no elderly parents to catch it if you do get it so let’s be stuck here together,” Amelia told her over the phone three days ago. “We can make milkshakes, pop some popcorn and watch Brad Pitt movies. At least you won’t have to be stuck in the house with that jerk.”

“Make it a few Hugh Jackman movies and I may take you up on that offer,” Maddie responded. “But, seriously, all my paperwork for the book is here. I like my writing space and I’m sure Liam will be locked up in his office the whole time anyhow.”

But Liam hadn’t been locked up in his office. He’d been pacing like a caged animal for three days now and Maddie couldn’t focus on finishing the final chapter of her latest book in the Spencer Valley Chronicles series. Why didn’t he just go in his office, lock the door, and finish up some projects already?

She needed a very long break from him, but she knew this walk in the cool spring air would at least provide a reprieve. She’d have to return to the house eventually of course; the house where her brooding, distasteful, self-important, soon-to-be ex-husband was practically crawling the walls after his boss had ordered him to lock himself in quarantine. But for now, she intended to enjoy the warm sun on her face, the chirps of the many birds and the newly sprouting buds on the trees around her.

***

To be continued  . . .

Fiction Friday: A New Beginning, Chapter 32

If you missed it, I posted Chapter 31 of A New Beginning yesterday.

Thoughts on the story so far? Let me know in the comments!

As always, this is a story in progress so there will be typos, missing words and maybe even plot holes. Feel free to let me know about them in the comments. I’ll be editing and fixing them before the final publication later this spring.

A New Beginning is a sequel to A Story to Tell but you don’t need to read A Story to Tell to understand and follow along with A New Beginning. The link to the chapters of A New Beginning, in order, can be found HERE or at the link at the top of the page.

 


Chapter 32

“How close do you think I was to dying that night with Hank?” I asked Emmy six months after I’d left Hank.

Emmy looked at me with furrowed eyebrows. “Why would you ask that? Did you really think he was going to kill you that night?”

I hugged a pillow to my chest. “I honestly don’t know. It’s how it felt that night, yes. The look on his face  . . . Emmy, it was horrible. It was like he wasn’t even human.”

I thought about the conversation and Emmy’s question back to me as I pulled my legs up into my stomach, curled up under my covers, in my own bed, after finally returning home with Edith, Jimmy, Lily and the new baby, who Lily had named Alexander Josiah.

How close had I been to dying that night? Did it make me a horrible person to think Hank really could have been capable of killing me? Was he truly that horrible of a person? I pictured his fist hitting Judson’s face, the anger radiating off of him when he’d watched Judson and I through his truck window as we drove away. He was full of anger, of bitterness, but was he capable of killing?

I wondered if he would be capable of killing if he ended up in Vietnam. I squeezed my eyes tight against the darkness, willing sleep to come. Why was I thinking about all of this now? My body was heavy with exhaustion. I’d worked longer hours at the shop the last two days, trying to catch up on the work I’d been behind on after the extended trip to the city with Edith and Jimmy. I hadn’t even stopped to see Judson, or call to see how he was, but I’d thought of him almost constantly.

I rolled to my back, stared at the ceiling, then rolled to my side and closed my eyes again.

I could have died that night, I thought to myself. Emmy and I both could have died that night in the storm. Life is so short. Life is so fragile. I’ve barely been living all these years. Why am I doing this to myself? Why am I so afraid to take risks?

I threw the covers off me, sat up and swung my legs over the bed, my thoughts racing. I was wasting my life and pushing people away and for what? For nothing. I was doing it all under the guise that I could somehow keep anything bad from happening to me, simply by controlling every situation, every feeling. But feelings weren’t something I could control and right now I was fighting against admitting my feelings for Judson were much more than simple friendship.

I quickly dressed and slid my shoes on, sneaking down the hallway and the stairs, glancing at the clock in the living room on my way through. 11:30 at night. What was I even thinking, taking a walk at this time of night, heading to see the one person who wanted me to enjoy life as much I did? I knew I’d never sleep if I didn’t tell Judson I’d wanted to kiss him that night at the lake and I wished I hadn’t run away.

I felt almost like I was in high school again, sneaking out to see Hank, as I tip-toed past my parent’s room and walked gingerly down the stairs. I wasn’t in high school again, though, and I wasn’t going to see Hank. I didn’t feel guilty about this late-night escape.

The crisp air stinging my nose and eyes as I walked down the dirt road toward Judson’s reminded me that winter was almost here. Above me, the night sky twinkled with stars and a full moon was showing bright just above the treetops. Somewhere across the fields one of Mr. Worley’s cows mooed from either in his pasture or inside the barn.

Movement in the brush as I walked past a barren cornfield on one side and a tangled thicket on the other startled me. My breath and steps quickened. A terrifying thought hit me like a rock between the eyes. What if there was a bear in the bushes?

Oh my gosh. It is a bear. I am going to be eaten by a bear while being a fool and walking out of my house in the middle of the night to tell a man who has probably forgotten me about since I hadn’t even called him in more than a week to check on him that I – that I what?

I stopped walking, breathing hard, my breath floating white in front of me in small quick puffs.

I looked up at the stars, the cloudless, dark sky, and heard the rustling again in the bushes. I swallowed hard and started walking faster. What was I even going to tell Judson? And why hadn’t I taken the car? What had I been thinking? I had a child to take care of. How would my parents tell him I had been eaten by a bear while walking off in the middle of the night to go see some man.

A black, furry blur rushed at me from the bushes and I screamed in terror, holding my arms up to block the attack of the bear.

But the attack never came.

I slowly lowered my arms and opened my eyes, squinting in the moonlight. A plump black cat yowled at me as it sauntered toward me as if to mock me for my fear. It darted past me, back toward our house. I remembered at that moment why I had never been a fan of cats.

I looked back toward our house, then back the other way, down the road, at the bend in it, knowing Mr. Worley’s tenant house where Judson lived was a hundred feet away. If I went home, I could crawl back into bed and forget about this night and my foolishness. If I walked to Judson’s I took the chance he was asleep but then again, what was I going to even say if he was awake?

Standing in the middle of this old dirt road I’d driven and walked on a thousand times I closed my eyes and felt the tears hot behind them. I thought about the fight with Hank, the bruises on Judson’s face, the way his eye had been swollen the next day. Absent-mindedly I walked, kicking at the dirt, pulling my sweater closer around me, wondering why I always seemed to cause everyone pain.

When I reached Judson’s front yard, I stood looking at the light glowing from his front window. Was he inside reading a book? Building a table?

On a date?

My heart lurched at that thought. I drew in a deep breath but couldn’t bring myself to walk onto the front porch.

Blanche Robbins, what are you doing? I thought with a hand pressed against my forehead. Go home and gather your thoughts before you make a fool out of yourself.

I turned to leave and screamed for the second time that night, this time at a figure standing behind me shining a light in my face. I held my hands up against the blinding light.

“Blanche? What are you doing out here?”

I recognized the smooth Southern accent immediately. I squinted in the light.

Judson lowered the flashlight and stepped toward me in the darkness.

“I – I was taking a walk,” I gasped.

“At midnight?”

“Uh…yes?”

“In the pitch dark?”

“Yes?”

“Without a flashlight?”

I cleared my throat and rubbed my hands nervously across my arms.

“Umm . . .yes?”

“Did you scream a few moments ago?”

“Yes, that was me.”

“I thought it was a dying cat, so I came out to see what was going on.”

I giggled. “A dying cat? I sounded like a dying cat?”

Judson laughed loudly. “Well, yeah.”

“So, you were going to come out here and do what with the dying cat?”

“I don’t know!” he said, still laughing. “Maybe put it out of its’ misery.”

He jerked his head toward the house. “It’s cold out here. Do you want to come in?”

I looked at the front porch and shook my head, shivering. “I don’t think – I mean, I don’t know if it would be right to go into the house of a man I’m not married to in — uh, well, the middle of the night.”

I thought he might laugh at me but instead, he nodded in apparent understanding.  “Okay, well, then come up on the porch and I’ll get a blanket to put around your shoulders. You shouldn’t be out here alone at this time of night. There could be bears or — some other crazy Pennsylvania creature out here.”

I snorted a small laugh, pretending the idea of bears being along this road was absurd and I’d never thought of such a thing. “Bears. Yeah. Right.”

Up on the porch I sat on the step while Judson went inside and returned with a quilt. He draped it around my shoulders and sat next to me, leaning his back against the porch column, one leg up, one stretched down on the top step. Had I really just suggested I shouldn’t go into his home because it might not look right? First of all, who was going to see us at this time of night on a dark, rural road? The cat? Secondly, as if being in his home the other day in broad daylight couldn’t have been construed by some as inappropriate behavior as well.

Judson propped his forearm arm on his knee. “Blanche. Seriously. What are you doing out here?”

I looked at him in the dim porch light, at the fading bruises under his eye and along his cheek, a choking pain searing through my chest.

Oh please, Lord, don’t let me start crying, I might not stop.

But it was too late. Without warning, I lost the fight to hold in my emotions and began to sob. It was as if a dam broke. I pressed my hands against my face and sobbed, tears soaking my face.

“Blanche, what’s going on?” Judson’s voice was full of shock and concern. He touched my arm gently. “Did something happen? Did Hank come back or —”

I shook my head behind my hands. “No. No. Nothing like that,” I choked out, trying to wipe the tears from my face with my hands.

Judson lifted a corner of the quilt and dabbed my cheeks with it. “What is going on?”

I turned my face away from him, trying to stop the tears.

“You really could have been hurt the other night with Hank and it’s my fault.”

“How was it your fault that Hank was a jerk and I chose to step in? We already talked about this. That was my choice.”

I pulled the quilt tight around me. “It’s like everything I do hurts someone else.”

Judson laughed softly.  “Well that’s a little self-centered isn’t it?” he asked.

I sniffed and looked at him through tears. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You seem to think you have so much power you are the cause of the pain of others. Can you also use your powers for good?”

I sighed. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant that people get hurt trying to help me because of my stupid —”

“Stepping in with Hank was my choice,” Judson interrupted, his tone sharp. “Protecting you was my choice.”

He turned toward me, pushing my hair back from my face. When he spoke again his tone was tender, husky.

“Loving you is my choice. And your safety is worth whatever pain I’m in right now.”

The serious tone of his voice sent a ripple of exhilaration from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. How could he still love me, after all the ways I’d pushed him away over the last two years?

I swiped my hand across the tears streaming down my cheeks. I couldn’t imagine I looked very nice, my face splotchy and red from the crying.

A heavy sensation of anticipation settled in the center of my chest as he spoke. “Why won’t you just let me love you, Blanche? Why can’t you stop thinking so much and just,” he stood impulsively and tossed his arms out to his side in frustration, looking down at me. “I don’t know, feel! Feel something and let that be your guide, not your thoughts or your ‘what if’ worries.”

My excited feeling was being replaced with a growing annoyance and I wasn’t sure I had the emotional fortitude to handle the roller coaster of feelings

How stupid can he be? Doesn’t he know what happens to women when they go through life guided by their feelings?  I stood to face him, the quilt sliding off my shoulders, landing in a pile on the porch floor.

“I did ‘just feel’ once upon a time,” I snapped, my voice breaking with anger, as I tossed my arms out to mock his gesture. “With Hank. I didn’t think. I just went with my feelings and took a risk. And where did it get me? Beat up. A pregnant teenager with no clue how to raise a baby. It got me shame. It got me guilt because my son has been growing up without a father — ”

“Blanche, stop it.” Judson’s voice was sharp and loud as he interrupted me. I stepped back, startled. “Stop using Hank Hakes as a measuring stick for every situation in your life, for every man that walks into your life. Hank is a stellar example of what a man shouldn’t be, but not every man is Hank Hakes.”

He walked toward me briskly, cupping my face in his hands. “I am not Hank Hakes, Blanche. I love you and I want you to tell me how you feel about me – not what you fear will happen if you let yourself love me. For God sake, Blanche, if this whole thing with my dad has taught me anything, it’s that life is short, too short to wait to tell people how we feel. I have spent too many nights aching to speak to you, aching to hold you, aching for you to let me in.”

We were only inches apart now. I couldn’t take my eyes off his. My gaze focused on the flecks of green scattered in the blue of his iris. His hands on my skin woke a passion and need in me I knew had always been there but had tried to ignore.

“I know how I feel about you Blanche. I know I can’t stop thinking about you, worrying about you, wondering what you’re doing when we’re not together. I know when we are together I find myself memorizing every little gesture you make, quirk you have, wondering how it’s possible that simply being with you calms me like nothing else, like no one else, does.”

I searched his eyes, saw in them tenderness and searching of his own. I didn’t understand why he seemed to love me so fiercely. I didn’t understand how I deserved someone who wanted healing for me as much as I wanted it for myself.

I knew he was right. Realizing how short and fragile life was had been what had brought me here tonight. I had come here to tell Judson I was afraid to love him, to be loved by him but also that I didn’t want a life ruled by fear and anger. Why couldn’t I just say it?

“Oh, Judson. I’m sorry.”

The words rushed out of me as if an emotional dam had burst, tears flowing before I could even try to fight them back.

“I’m so sorry I keep acting like you’re even remotely like Hank. You’re not. You’re so wonderful and beautiful and sweet and I want to know all there is to know about you. I want to know what you think about all those books on your bookshelves and how you made all that furniture and what you did in the summer with your brother when you were a little boy and what your favorite food is.”

“I want to know what you think about God and if you’ve ever gone swimming in the ocean.  I want to know it all but I’m so afraid to know it all.”  I choked out a sob. “I don’t have to let myself love you, Judson. I just do. Even when I don’t want to. And yes, it frightens me because I don’t want Jackson to be hurt again, but I also don’t want to be hurt again. I kissed you at the lake because I wanted to kiss you. I felt an insane physical attraction to you, but it scared me because I needed something more. I didn’t want any decision I made to be based on physical attraction because I took that path before and it didn’t end well.”

I gasped in a breath and tears slipped down my face as Judson kissed my forehead, then my cheek, pulling back to look at me.

“But, I also don’t want to hold my feelings for you in any longer,” I whispered. “I know now that I love you beyond appearance, that I love your heart as much as I love your soft lips and your beautiful eyes.”

Judson grinned. “You think my eyes are beautiful?”

My face flushed warm. “I think all of you is beautiful.”

His grin had widened and I actually thought I saw red flush along his cheekbones as he laughed softly.

“You know, C.S. Lewis once said that to love at all is to be vulnerable.”

“Have you been talking to my Dad?”

“What?”

“My Dad quoted that same thing from C.S. Lewis a few weeks ago.”

Judson laughed again. “Great minds think alike apparently.”

He pressed his forehead against mine. “Blanche, I’m scared too. Loving you is scary because I don’t want to hurt you either and I know I could someday, but I know I could never treat you the way Hank treated you. I know I will do anything in my power to protect you, to protect Jackson, and to protect your heart.”

My body relaxed as he spoke, a peace settling over me at each word. When he tilted his head and gently pressed his mouth against mine, I surrendered to how tender love could be. Unlike that day at the lake, I accepted each second of the kiss, each tender touch. His hands slid from my face, pushed into my hair, and cradled the back of my head. I clutched the front of his shirt, worried he might pull away like I had at the lake.

I didn’t want him to pull away. I didn’t want him to stop kissing me. I didn’t want him to stop showing me how much he truly loved me.

His hands slipped from my hair, moving down my back, resting in the small of it as he gently pulled me against him. When he pulled away and started to speak, I laid a finger against his lips. I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about anything anymore. I wanted to feel all the emotions I hadn’t let myself experience when I’d kissed him before.

His mouth found mine again and pleasure coursed through me as his mouth moved to my neck and then my throat, kissing a trail across my skin. I slid my hands into his hair, clutching it, focused only on the fire each touch of his mouth and hands lit inside me.

I don’t know how long we stood there holding each other, lost in the moment, forgetting all we’d been worried about, but when he finally pulled back to look at me we were both breathing hard and he was laughing.

“That felt —”

I tipped my head back and let my hair fall back across my shoulders.

“Like freedom,” I said, finishing his sentence.

He laughed and I kissed him again, enjoying the softness of his hair between my fingers.

“Blanche,” he whispered hoarsely a few moments later. “I need to drive you home.”

I pulled his head down to mine again to resume our kiss, but he stepped back taking my hands in his, clasping them together and holding them against his chest.

I could feel his heart pounding fast under my hands.

“I need to take you home now,” he said firmly, looking me in the eyes. He spoke quickly. “If I don’t, I’m afraid . . .” He shook his head slowly. “Of what we might do.”

I looked at him in surprise, warmth rushing from my chest into my cheeks. I knew what he was saying and that he was right, though I’d never intended that when I’d started walking to see him earlier. My own heart was pounding as fast as his, my thoughts spinning; the perfect storm for clouded judgment and choices that might be regretted later.

I signaled I understood by a quick nod of my head. He left me standing on the porch and grabbed his truck keys from inside the house. We drove to my parents’ house in silence, and he shut the engine off in the driveway. I was trembling and I knew it wasn’t from the chill in the air.

Stretching his arm across the back of the seat he looked at me and let out a long sigh. “So, we talked and … yeah … that was good.”

“It was.”

“I’m glad we got that talk out of the way and know how we feel now.”

“Me too.”

I gasped and then giggled as he reached out and clutched my hair at the back of my head, tilting my head back gently and pressing his mouth firmly against mine.  I giggled. When was the last time I had actually giggled?

“We’ll talk more later today,” he whispered when he pulled his mouth from mine several moments later. “Now get out of here before your daddy chases me off with a shotgun.”

I laughed. “I don’t think that’s going to happen with you. He likes you too much.”

His hand touched my arm gently as I opened the door and I turned to look at him.

“Blanche….”

His expression was tender as he cupped my cheek against his hand. “Is it too soon to say I love you? Because I do.”

The words flowed over me like warm water. I leaned close to him, laid my hand against his cheek, and brushed my lips against his. “I hope it isn’t because I love you too, Judson.”

I watched him drive away, as I pulled my sweater tight around me and then slipped inside the house. Inside my room, under the covers I closed my eyes, struggling to fall asleep, wondering what my future held now that I’d told Judson T. Wainwright I loved him and knew he loved me too.

Fiction Friday: A New Beginning Chapter 30

If you missed it, I posted Chapter 29 of A New Beginning to the blog yesterday.

Thoughts on the story so far? Let me know in the comments!

As always, this is a story in progress so there will be typos, missing words and maybe even plot holes. Feel free to let me know about them in the comments. I’ll be editing and fixing them before the final publication later this spring.

A New Beginning is a sequel to A Story to Tell but you don’t need to read A Story to Tell to understand and follow along with A New Beginning. The link to the chapters of A New Beginning, in order, can be found HERE or at the link at the top of the page.

 


Chapter 30

“What do you mean she just left the hospital?”

Jimmy’s voice was heavy with anger.

Sandra, standing across from him, her eyes bloodshot, shook her head. “The nurse came back to the room and she was gone. She’d gotten dressed in the night, left the baby and the signed adoption papers in the crib and left.”

Edith held the baby boy against her chest, her hand against his back as she swayed in place.

“So, Lily is alone out there somewhere?” she asked. “After just giving birth to her first baby.”

Sandra nodded, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. “Yes, and with this being her first and her so young, it was a rough delivery too.”

“Why would she do this?” Jimmy asked. “And how did your agency let this happen?”

Sandra sat on a chair next to the empty hospital bed, shaking her head, tears in her eyes. Edith gently laid the sleeping baby in the crib next to the bed.

I had seen myself in Lily that first day I met her. Now I saw myself even more in her actions. I remembered outside the church three months after I’d left Hank, unable to move from the car, terrified to step foot inside the building where I felt God lived. God, who must be as ashamed of me as I was of myself. Shame had kept me away from God for three years and it was shame telling me now I wasn’t worth being loved by Judson or anyone else. Lily most likely felt the same.

“She’s ashamed,” I said softly.

Jimmy looked at me. “What’s that, Blanche?”

I cleared my throat. “Lily is ashamed of who she has become. Or, I think, anyhow. It’s probably why she took off. She’s ashamed of who she became, though she might not even realize it’s shame making her act out the way she is. She’s too young. But I also can’t imagine it would be very easy for her to see her baby being given to another family, even if she knows it is the right thing to do. She feels like she let the baby, and herself, down.”

I felt tears hot in my eyes as I looked at Edith and Jimmy. “I should know. I felt the same way.”

Jimmy reached out and laid his hand over mine as Edith sat next to me and slid her arm around me, kissing my forehead.

“You never let anyone down, Blanche,” she whispered.

“I know but it’s how I felt. And I think it may be how Lily is feeling now. That and sheer terror.”

Sandra pressed a tissue against her eyes, crying softly.

“Just like I feel I let her down,” she whispered through the tears. “Lily came to us for help and now I can’t help her. I should have never left her alone in this hospital. I should have known she would make a run for it.”

She looked up, her eyes red, then shook her head a little. “No matter. This baby is yours. The paperwork has been signed already. All you need to do is sign it too. He needs someone to take care of him.” She stood and smiled at the baby in the crib. “You’re going to be wonderful parents and as for Lily –” she turned away from the baby and struggled to smile. “I’m going to keep looking for her and be there for her as much as she’ll let me.”

Jimmy stood, reaching for his jacket. “I’m going to help you look. Let’s head out now. How long has she been gone?”

“Mr. Sickler, this isn’t your problem,” Sandra said, wiping her nose.

“I’m not leaving a child out on the street.” A muscle in Jimmy’s jaw jumped as he spoke. “Lily is a child who just gave birth to a child. She should not be out on the street. Where would she go? Someone in your organization has to know. Where does her mother live?”

Sandra shook her head. “Mr. Sickler, I —”

“Then I’ll go on my own.”

I’d rarely seen Jimmy angry. His nostrils flared at each word, his movement were abrupt as he jerked his coat on, and his eyes flashed with anger.

“Honestly, I don’t know if I have a lot of faith in this agency to find her and care for her,” he snapped, pointing at Sandra. “I am really starting to question if she was pushed into this adoption and what will happen to her when it hits her that her baby is gone.”

Sandra’s eyebrows raised and her mouth opened slightly, as if she was about to say something, then thought better of it and closed her mouth again. She sat on the chair next to the hospital bed and covered her face with her hands.

Edith stood and touched Jimmy’s arm. “Jimmy, calm down. You’re not being fair to Sandra. We don’t know what exactly happened. Plus, you don’t know the city. How can you possibly find her?”

Jimmy clenched and unclenched his hands, standing in the doorway. I could tell he was trying to keep his anger under control.

“She may have gone to her mothers,” Sandra said softly, moving her hands from her face. She took a deep breath and stood. “I can get you her address, but I have to warn you, Lily’s mother, Martha, isn’t a nice woman. She’s often drunk and abusive.”

Jimmy snatched up his keys and pulled on his jacket. “All the more reason to make sure Lily isn’t there.”

Sandra left the room to get the address and I reached for my own coat. “I should go with you. Lily might feel more comfortable with a woman there.”

Jimmy nodded in agreement. “I think you’re right. Let’s get going.”

He leaned down and kissed Edith’s forehead. “Pray,” he told her.

He paused to lightly touch the top of the baby’s head before he walked through the door.

“Mr. Sickler, I know you mean well, but I really wish you would let us handle this,” Sandra said as she handed Jimmy a small piece of paper with an address written on it.

Jimmy ignored Sandra’s pleas, walking briskly past her and down the hallway. I did my best to keep up with him. In the car, he clutched the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

“I can’t even believe this. How could they let that young girl out of their sight? She must be terrified.”

“Try to stay calm, Jimmy. We don’t know what happened yet.”

Jimmy shifted the car into gear and pulled out onto the road. We were riding in his bright red Chevy Chevelle, but I had a feeling the car would be traded in before too long for a more family-friendly vehicle. Switching from his usual more sporty cars would be an adjustment for Jimmy, but I knew he wouldn’t mind the sacrifice if it meant a safer and more spacious drive for his growing family.

As I watched him drive, I thought about one of the first times I had met him. I’d been hearing about him for months from Edith before I met him, but the night he finally came to the house to pick up Edith for a date, I had been struck by his calm demeanor, his sweet personality, and his charming smile. He was a far cry from the boys Edith usually dated. Before Jimmy, she had been pursued cocky and aloof boys who paused by the mirror near the front door to drag a comb through their hair before leaving the house.

When Edith eventually decided Jimmy wasn’t exciting enough for her, she went back to the arrogant variety, prompting Daddy to ask about Jimmy one night at dinner.

“Whatever happened to that Sickler kid? I liked him.”

Edith had rolled her eyes as she stabbed a spear of broccoli.

“Oh, Daddy,” she groaned. “You would like the most boring boy I’ve ever gone out with.”

“There’s nothing wrong with boring,” Daddy said, looking at Edith for several seconds to make sure she caught his meaning.

After I’d left with Hank and she’d started going to church more, Edith’s entire view of the world changed and somehow Jimmy Sickler wasn’t boring anymore. She saw him for what he’d always been – someone who had loved her through all her past mistakes and all the ways she’d hurt and rejected him. I remembered the letter she’d sent me, telling me Jimmy had asked her out again after church one Sunday. It wasn’t until I came home, after they were married, that Edith shared with me how Jimmy’s tender love for her, despite the way she’d acted when she was younger, had softened her heart and revealed her true feelings for him.

Jimmy was as sweet now as he’d been when we’d first met and over the years, I’d seen many sides of him — goofy, annoyed, overjoyed, brokenhearted and excited. But on this night, driving through inner-city Philadelphia, looking for Lily, I saw a new side of Jimmy; an angry, determined side that showed he was bent on rescuing the young girl who had claimed a part of his heart.

The city stretched before us, the streets dimly lit, dilapidated buildings rolling past the car window, their outside walls stained with graffiti of various colors.

I bit my lower lip as we crossed a bridge, looking out the windshield at the city looming before us. Apartment and office buildings filled the landscape. I spotted a gas station at the end of the bridge and gestured toward it.

“Jimmy, pull over a minute.”

“Do you see the street we need?”

“No. Just pull over. I think we should pray.”

Jimmy pulled the car into the parking lot and turned off the engine. He let out a long breath as if trying to exhale all the tension he was feeling and turned toward me, bowing his head. I laid my hand over his and bowed my head as well.

“Father,” I prayed. “We are asking for you to help us today. Lily is lost, Lord. She’s scared. She may be in pain. Please, Jesus, help us to find her and bring her back with us to the hospital, but, Lord, if we can’t find her, we ask that you keep her safe in your arms.”

Jimmy let out another long breath and started the car again. “Thanks. I needed that. Okay, which street do we need?”

I could feel a calmness coming off him that I hadn’t felt before and his jaw had relaxed some.

I looked at the paper Sandra had handed Jimmy. “Poplar Street. Twin Rivers Apartments. Sandra wrote here that it’s two miles north of the hospital.”

I followed Sandra’s directions, looking on my right for Poplar Street. When we saw it, Jimmy pulled onto it and the sign for the building appeared immediately, the paint chipped. Jimmy pulled into a space in the parking lot and sat back in his seat looking up at the building, which towered at least eight stories above us. I knew we both felt completely out of place in a city so large after spending almost our whole lives in the country. Jimmy let out a long breath.

“You wait here,” he said. “Keep the doors locked.”

I opened the car door. “I’m going with you.”

“Blanche now is not the time to be stubborn. This doesn’t look like the safest neighborhood.”

“Then I’ll go alone.” I pushed the door closed and buttoned my coat.

Jimmy mumbled something under his breath as he stepped out of the car and followed me. I figured it was a good thing I hadn’t really heard what he said, though I swore I heard the words Robbins, women, and stubborn somewhere in there.

I looked through smudged windows into a dimly lit lobby as we approached the front doors. A crack stretched up from the bottom of one of the panels of glass in the double front doors, spreading up to the top.  The door’s hinges groaned as Jimmy pulled it open to reveal a lobby décor of stained brown and green couches, faded green wallpaper, and orange carpet worn down from years of people walking over it.

“Which floor?” Jimmy asked.

“Seventh.”

Jimmy sighed. “Of course, it is. I’m such a country bumpkin. I’ve never even been in an elevator before. Have you?”

“Once, but never past the third floor.”

Standing in front of the smudged, glossy silver doors before us we looked at each other, sighed and then shrugged. I hesitantly pushed the up button.

The couple groping each other inside the elevator when the doors opened with a grating noise were oblivious to us. Jimmy and I stared, reluctant to step in the elevator during their make-out session.

The man pulled his mouth from the woman’s abruptly with a loud sucking noise and glared at us through narrow slits. “You got a problem?”

I shook my head. “No. Just didn’t want to interrupt.”

The couple parted and the man, wearing a leather jacket and faded blue jeans, slid his hands in his back pockets and leaned against the wall. The fluorescent lights in the elevator glistened off his slicked back hair. A curl in the front flopped over his forehead. He jerked his head to one side.

“What floor?” he asked gruffly.

Jimmy stepped in first and stood between me and the couple. “Seven.”

The woman smirked, her eyes moving down the length of me and back to my face. “You’re not from around, here are you?”

My plain blue skirt, faded red polo shirt, and tan flats screamed country girl next to her black, leather mini skirt, rainbow striped halter top, large hooped earrings, and black high heels. Chewing gum loudly, she twirled bleached blond hair around her index finger and snapped a bubble between her bright red lips. She giggled, swiveling her attention to Jimmy and leaning forward slightly, the move revealing the top of her breasts.

“We’re just visiting,” Jimmy said quickly looking away from her, keeping his focus on the numbers above the elevator door.

The man pushed the number seven on the panel, without looking at it directly, still concentrating his attention on us. I averted my eyes from his steely stare, looking at the stained tiled floor, gasping softly when the elevator dropped slightly then started to rise, my stomach feeling like it had sunk to my feet.

Jimmy slid his arm around me and pulled me close against him as the elevator rose and the couple watched us, the man now leaning against the elevator wall with his arm laying lazily over the woman’s shoulders.

Small bits of paper, dirt and cigarette butts cluttered the elevator floor. A cockroach scurried across a crumpled newspaper and I bit my lip, holding in the scream I desperately wanted to let out. The man slammed the tip of his boot onto the cockroach and twisted his foot, a sick crunch signifying the insect was no longer living. He smirked as he drew the boot back and dragged insect remains in a reddish-brown smear across a tan tile.

Jimmy hooked his hand around my elbow and propelled me from the elevator within seconds after the doors squeaked open.

“This is only the sixth floor,” the girl called after us.

“That’s okay,” Jimmy said over his shoulder. “We need to stretch our legs a little.”

Laughter filtered through the door as it closed, drowned out by the grinding noise of the elevator’s gears as it continued on its’ journey to the seventh floor and beyond.