Page 29 of Where Love Lies

He grabs his cup of coffee from the counter, and with his phone in his other hand, he winces and looks up at me.

“I gotta head out. I have a house to show this afternoon. Can I come by after I’m done?” I roll my lips, contemplating. If I say yes too fast, he’ll think I have nothing better to do than wait on him—which you don’t want a guy to think because he’ll freak out and think you’re moving too fast or are clingy—thank you, Cosmo magazine, at the checkout line. But if I say no, it could really put us back in our relationship, and I don’t want that either. I like having him here. His company soothes me, making me feel less alone.

“Yeah. If you feel up to it, come on by,” I answer, my voice relaxed and casual. He takes a sip of his hot brew while looking over the black ceramic at me. Swallowing, he places the cup in the sink and asks, “Will Paige be here?”

“Yeah. Cam usually drops her off before dinner.” Usually. There were a few times I had to go get her because he didn’t feel like it.

“Nice. She’s a good kid, you know? Having her here makes the house feel…full, like an actual family.” He stops at the door, his jaw tight, eyes serious. “Family is what shapes a person into who they become as an adult.” His right brow rises. His Adam’s apple bobs. He’s telling me so much without telling me, yet I can’t read between the lines. Something life changing happened to his family that much is clear; I just wish I knew what it was.

“Yeah,” my voice cracks, “family is everything.” I couldn’t agree more as I think about my mom and how she had always been there for me.

“All right, I’m off,” he states, his tone back to normal. With a wink, he shuts the door behind him.

* * *

Two hours, one shower, and a muffin later, I look at my shrubs. Some petals lie on the ground, dry mud creating a cast over them.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. Bending down, I hold one of the flowers in my palm. It took a beating, bit beneath the mud, it’s still bright pink and full of life. No matter the storm, it made it through and will grow into something stronger. Kind of like me, I’ve swam the waters of abuse and grief but I’ve come out on the other side where love and friendship surround me.

My head lifts at the rev of a loud motor barreling down the street. The hairs on my arm lift, and my stomach drops. Standing, I wipe my hands on my jean shorts and start walking around the white fence to meet Cam. He parks at the curb and shuts off the engine. The passenger door opens first, and Paige’s Converse hit the ground. She shuts the door, sees me, and instantly smiles. The sick feeling I had vanishes. Just seeing her makes everything else seem small and redundant. She’s the one thing I’ve done right. She has her hair in Dutch braids, a tie dye shirt on with some boyfriend looking jeans on.

“Hey, baby!” I shout with a grin. She walks right up to me, and I hug her tight, missing her.

“Hi, Mom,” she mumbles into my arm, and I realize I’m suffocating her as well as embarrassing her.

Letting go, I say, “Check out the flowers I picked out.” I point toward the door, and she walks over to look at them.

“Where’s your boy toy? Get enough of you after one night?” Cam’s rancid voice has me slowly looking in his direction. Hatred rattles in my chest, trying to block his insult, my heart already dented and scarred from his never-ending harassment. His mental attacks are unmatched. He’s a ghost I can’t lock behind any door. Reaching up, he tugs his red ballcap down on his head a little tighter, and I can’t help but notice his dirty shirt and ripped jeans. He sticks out here, looking like a man clinging to his high-school days. Not to mention, his loud ass truck and the cowboy attitude he brought with him yesterday.

“I cannot believe you yesterday!” I sneer, ready to fight this out on the lawn and give Tenly something to come over tonight and talk about. “How many sluts have you had on your arm and I never said a thing? But I have a guy over and you act like some jealous teenager? Why? For what? You don’t want me, you made that clear, so why the hell would you pull something like that?”

He steps closer, a scowl on his face, a cold shadow beneath his feet as if the reaper has attached itself to him. I feel small, the insecurities I harbored while married to him growing inside my chest. I refuse to let him see how much he still affects me and stand tall.

“I choose who’s in my daughter’s life.” He points to himself, his teeth clenched. Is he serious? He does not get to dictate who I see!

“No, Cam, you lost that right when I left your ass.”

I turn on my heel, starting toward the house.

“Right, because how many times were you on the floor crying for me not to leave you, Rain?” His voice carries. In fact, it’s so loud, I know the neighbors heard. I close my eyes, take a slow breath in, and hurry inside, choosing not to reply. I stand behind the door, one hand on the knob, the other on the lock, fighting back tears. I did beg him not to leave me more than once. I still remember the pain in my chest at the thought of us not together, the idea of my daughter not having both parents fueling me to look past the drinking, the mental abuse, and the cheating. It was seen as a fail in the parenting handbook. A few slaps later, he knocked some sense into me. I took Paige and left in the middle of the night to stay at my mother’s house, praying he wouldn’t wake up and come searching for us.

15

Isit on the couch. The room is dark except for the lamp letting off a soft glow and the low hues illuminating the TV screen. My eyes heavy with sleep, I stare blankly at the screen, completely zoned out. Paige put on a show calledBates Motel, but I’m exhausted from finishing up my pottery room the rest of the day and can’t focus on what’s happening. At least it’s finally done and everything has its place. But now the room is crying for me to hide inside it and pour every emotion into my work. I can’t wait to see what I create after everything that’s happened recently.

“Mom, I think I’m going to go to bed.” Paige’s voice snaps me from my mind. I sit up with a deep inhale.

“Okay, babe. I’m going to stay up a little longer.” My eyes sweep to the kitchen, where the stove reads ten thirty.

“Dad got me up at the crack of dawn to go fishing. I didn’t catch anything, and he drank and told stories about how his dad never took him. It was boring and exhausting.” God, I don’t miss those stories. They were all so depressing.

“Mom, you look tired. You should go to bed too.” She stands there with droopy eyes, her arms at her sides.

“Heston said he might come over tonight. I don’t want to lock him out if I go to bed. I’ll just wait a little longer.” I sound like a teenager waiting for a boy who never intended to call back, and it makes me sick. Have I succumbed to needing a man’s attention? Am I this eager for another person in my life to disappoint me? No, I’m not doing this to myself, and I sure as hell don’t want my daughter seeing me waiting up for a guy and thinking this is what she’s supposed to do when she’s interested in one.

“Actually, I think I’ll go work in my studio for a bit,” I say, stretching my legs out. I don’t mind staying up a little longer because I feel like I do my best work at night, but I’m not sitting here waiting and looking at my phone every five minutes.

She crosses her arms in front of her chest, her face unreadable. “Is he staying the night?”

---