Page 123 of Miss Me Not

Standing on tiptoes, I looked around behind me until my eyes found Dean's. "I love you," he mouthed.

"I love you too," I said out loud, making those around me laugh.

Turning back around, I didn't try to fight the wide grin that spread across my face. The amazing thing about love was that when you didn't have it, the word seemed impossible to use, but when you were surrounded by it, it was as easy to say as breathing. The last six months had been a nonstop initiation into love for me. Dean's family showered me with it, tucking me into the embrace of their family like I belonged there all along. When Donna kicked me out officially, a week after Christmas, his family gave me the option to move in with them, but my dad stepped in, asking if I would give living with him a chance. I went from thinking I had nowhere to go, to suddenly having options. I turned the Jackson family down, not wanting to ruin my relationship with Dean by moving in with him and his family. It still amazed me that they accepted me so unconditionally. By all rights, they should hate me. I had hooked and trapped their son, or maybe it was the other way around. I couldn't help thinking about my petal plucking daisy I had gotten at Mitch's funeral. My world was suddenly filled with people who were the petals of the daisy that would miss me.

The first few weeks of living with my dad were awkward, and I had found myself spending more time at Dean's house than at my dad's, but eventually we started to adjust. I think we both understood that it would come slowly. I credited a big part of it to my weekly counseling sessions with Beth.

Beth was another unexpected petal of my ‘miss me’ daisy. I had balked at the idea of going to counseling, but Sarah had eventually worn me down and I was forever grateful she did. Beth was amazing. She was tough, kind, compassionate, intuitive and the sounding board I never knew I wanted. She listened and questioned and continually reminded me that the past wasn't my fault. Together, we found long forgotten emotions I thought I had buried long ago. We flushed them out, exposing everything until it was raw, so they could heal once and for all. Beth encouraged my dad to join us for a few of my counseling sessions so he could get some insight into everything I had kept hidden for so long. Through our counseling together, I got to see the rage he still felt for what Jim had done to me, to his anguish for not being able to protect me, and finally, his shame that had kept him from reaching out to me. It was a long agonizing road at times, and we were far from normal, but we were slowly learning how to let the past go. I was slowly learning to forgive him for leaving me behind to clean up the mess. >"You didn't have to," I said, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat. I seriously needed to get a grip. Just because I had cried the night before didn't give me the green light to cry at the drop of a hat.

"It was my pleasure," she said, giving me a nudge toward the doorway. "Go try them on," she urged me.

The clothes Sarah and Trish had picked out for me were both tasteful and comfortable, and were perfect for spending a couple days on his grandfather's property. I donned a pair of the jeans they had gotten me and a cream-colored cable knit sweater before joining them back downstairs.

The evening was everything the night before wasn't. Laughter filled the house as the twins put on a mock puppet show they had worked on that afternoon with their papaw. Once we had consumed enough comfort food to feed a small army, we sat around the comfortable family room and watched a Christmas movie that would never have been allowed in my house when I was little. I nestled next to Dean, soaking in every second. Every once in a while, James's death would drift through my mind like the ticker at the bottom of the news stations, reminding me of my loss.

The twins were put to bed once the movie was over. While his parents were laying them down, Dean pulled out several board games that he and Trish wound up arguing over about which one we should play.

Dean grudgingly gave in when I confided that I had always wanted to play Monopoly.

"Fine, but I'm the banker," he said, shooting Trish a warning look.

"Well, goodie for you. I didn't want to be banker anyway," she gripped, pulling a stack of orange cards out and placing them face down on the board.

I couldn't help smiling over their bickering.

"Oh, thank God, did we miss the banker fight?" Sarah asked, sitting on the floor next to me.

"Yep, Dean won," I answered, resisting the uncharacteristic urge to lean against her. Something about her drew me in. Maybe it was her acceptance of me.

The game was loud and rowdy as Trish and Dean got brutal, trying to destroy each other by placing multiple hotels on their properties. It wasn't long before Sarah, Tim and I were all bankrupt.

Sarah and I sat on the couch, watching Dean and Trish battle it out while Tim read a book on the recliner on the far side of the room.

"Dean says the call with Donna didn't go very well," I finally said, knowing I couldn't hide from it forever.

Sarah let out a long sigh. "Your mom is definitely not an easy person to talk to. Her unwillingness to understand her parental responsibilities makes me want to scream. I actually decided to go around her," she added, looking at me apprehensively.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I called your dad," she admitted.

"What? How did you get his number?"

"I was able to get it out of Donna before she hung up."

"What did he say?" I asked, trying not to focus on the sudden silence that filled the room.

"He'd like to come see you."

"Really?" I asked, not sure how I felt.

"Yes, really. By the way he talked, I get the impression he's wanted to see you for a while."

"Then why hasn't he called her?" Dean asked, abandoning the game to sit beside me on the couch.

"I don't know, son. That's something only he can answer. The important thing is how Madison feels," she said, turning to me. "Do you want to see your father?" she asked.

I wasn't even sure how to answer that. I did want to see him. More than I liked to admit, but I questioned whether he would be able to move past what I had done, and the part I had played in their divorce.

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