Love and Sorrow (Small Town Secrets Book 5), стр. 73
Justin even opened the door for me.
“How are you?”
“Exhausted—but I’m okay. Did the kids get their homework done?”
“Yep. And I saved you some pizza. Come sit down and I’ll catch you up.”
After dropping my coat and purse on the couch, I followed him into the kitchen. He already had a slice of pizza heating up in the microwave by the time I sat down at the table. “Devon went to be at eight-thirty and Sarah at nine.”
I couldn’t suppress the smile. “I’m impressed. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And I put a few things in your closet—if you don’t mind.”
“Things?”
“A few of my clothes.”
Once more, my heart warmed. “It’s our closet now, remember?”
Giving me a small wink, he opened the microwave, delivering a warm slice of pizza to the spot at the table in front of me. “Eat up, Rascal.”
I touched the crust, but I didn’t pick it up yet. “I forgot to tell you. Child Protection confirmed that Buckley’s definitely skipped town.” I took a bite but as I chewed wondered if I could handle more.
“You okay with that?”
“I have to be, don’t I?”
Justin tapped his fingers lightly on the table. “It might be better for Sarah if you can find a way past this.”
He was right—but I didn’t feel like I was ready. “I will.” My stomach started gurgling and I knew its contents were coming back up. I barely made it to the trashcan. “Why can’t I keep food down?”
“Maybe pizza’s a bad idea right now. Want me to make you something different?”
“No. I think I’ll just go to bed. It’s been a long day.”
“I’ll come with you, Rascal.”
Even removing my clothes was a struggle, but it was a comfort having Justin there. He shut off the lights in the house and curled up next to me. Like I often did, though, he got out of bed after a while—but I was giving way to sleep and didn’t have the energy to ask him if anything was wrong.
Maybe he was already regretting moving in—and I didn’t know if there was anything I could do about it.
* * *
A week later, I was feeling better, getting back in the groove—and Sarah seemed healthier and happier day by day. For the first time in over a year, she was drawing, and when Justin hooked up his PlayStation, both kids joined in. I didn’t know when we’d stop the counseling sessions but, for now, they were a regular part of our life, and I wasn’t about to fuck up my daughter’s progress.
I loved having Justin around more often. I had more time to study and I took the kids to Noreen’s less, both positives.
But, although Justin had brought more of his things to my house, he hadn’t brought everything. When I asked him why, he gave me a blow-off reason. His lease wasn’t up until the end of December and he had to figure out what to do with his “extra stuff.”
I didn’t argue.
And I definitely didn’t say shit when I realized I’d missed my birth control patch the week before. It was the first time I’d ever forgotten. I knew it was because I’d been sick, so it had been the last thing on my mind. Justin and I hadn’t made love much since being sick, so I wasn’t going to worry about it.
Later that week, Justin and I were riding to school together, something we’d been doing since he’d moved in. For some reason, our conversations had become almost stilted, uncomfortable, and he seemed to talk more to the kids than me.
Another reason why I already felt like he regretted moving in.
But I had to try. As I looked out of the passenger window, I said, “Holy shit. I’m craving a cigarette.”
“Is this the first time since you quit?”
“No. It’s just the most powerful craving I’ve had. I don’t know why.”
“Maybe habit. You’re used to smoking on the way to class.”
“Yeah, I guess. Or maybe I’m really an addict.”
“Don’t do it, Rascal. It’s not worth getting hooked all over again.”
“I know that, Justin. I just…wanted to talk about it.”
He nodded but he didn’t say another word—once more making me feel like there was a wedge forming between us.
Or maybe it had taken cohabitation for Justin to realize just how fucked up my life was—and he was trying to figure a way out.
I couldn’t really blame him.
* * *
The next day, my mother called. “How is Sarah doing?”
“Surprisingly well.”
“I am so glad to hear that, honey. And how are you and Devon?”
“I, um…I had pneumonia.”
“You what? Are you all right?”
“Yes. I guess I had a cold that turned bad. But I promise I’m fine now. I didn’t want to worry you.” Actually, it was more than that—but I wasn’t about to say so.
“No long-term effects?”
“Just one. I quit smoking.”
“Oh, sweetheart. I’m thrilled to hear that.”
“Thanks, mom.” Did she really mean it?
“I’m calling about the holidays, honey. Your father and I wanted to make sure you and the kids are planning to visit on Thanksgiving. Do you have Devon then, and does it fit in your work schedule?”
For some reason, it felt good to actually be invited by my mother. I was smiling when I said, “We’re planning on it. I have Devon this year, and I have it off from work, too.”
“Wonderful.”
Now for the moment of truth—and I wasn’t going to pull any punches. “Would it be okay if I brought Justin?”
I might have just been imagining it, but it seemed like there was a cold silence that lingered—until, at last, my mother spoke, and when she did, she sounded warm enough. “Who’s Justin?”
Another moment of truth—with myself as much as with my mother. “My boyfriend.”