Accidentally On Purpose Part 37

Walter Sterling studied me carefully. "A year ago, I would have never taken you for an adversary. You were such a good girl."

"Yeah, well. s.h.i.+t changes. Are you going to pay me or is Jessyca going to dip into her allowance again?"

A half hour later, arrangements were made for my money, and Walter promised to have Kyle in rehab by the following morning. I figured by the time he was out, I wouldn't be easy for him to find. The cleaning crew arrived as I was on my way out the door to go see the doctor. Doctor Larkin only asked me questions about my age and my pregnancy. He didn't seem surprised by my injuries, as if he did this kind of thing all of the time. I imagined him pulling bullets out of members of the mafia or st.i.tching up hookers that were beaten by politicians. By the time I returned home, the cleaning crew was gone, and so was the mess, blood included. I packed my things, again, and this time took more time to collect special items that held some kind of sentiment. I packed it all inside of my car and by the early evening, I was ready to go.

As I pulled out of the driveway, away from the home I spent most of my life in, I allowed myself a moment for tears. I loved that house and I had loved the life I had in it, even with my mother. Leaving it behind was probably inevitable, but not under these circ.u.mstances. If I stayed, Kyle would come back, and this ugly cycle would never end, and next time my baby could be hurt. I had to go.

I drove south, newly homeless, heartbroken, and forever fragmented.

The girls all stared at me with their jaws practically on the table. I sighed, feeling tiny pin p.r.i.c.ks of pain in my chest at the memory and from reciting it aloud. It was most likely the most painful twenty-four hours of my life and I was unlikely to experience anything like it again, especially since I wouldn't allow myself to ever be put in a position like that again.

Mayson went to speak, sputtered a few words, and then burst into tears. Tabitha poured four gla.s.ses of tequila and pa.s.sed them out with shaking hands and Donya sat there staring at me, stunned into silence. May downed her tequila and poured another.

Donya abruptly stood up, knocking her chair over in the process. She looked around as if she had lost something, before marching into the house. We looked into the house with curiosity until we heard the familiar jingle of keys. I jumped up and ran after her, catching her before she could make it out of the front door.

"What are you doing? Where are you going?" I asked, alarmed by her sudden departure.

"I'm going to go kill that mother f.u.c.ker," she said.

"No, no," I shook my head adamantly. I knew she was serious, too. If she got into her car, she wasn't going to stop until she reached Kyle's house, where she would attempt to kill him.

"He needs to be dead," she argued.

"No, Donya, you can't go kill him. You have a baby here."

"You can take care of the baby."

"I can't! Listen, calm down. Come on back to the back yard." I tugged on her arm, but she was like a brick wall.

"No, Emmy. He hurt you - he put his hands on you!"

"D, I know, but he doesn't even remember it. Come on, you can't go to prison. Your baby needs you."

"You can take care of him," she insisted. This was madness. This was a true example of temporary insanity.

"I can't."

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Umm...I don't ...like..." I couldn't say diapers. I had my own baby! "I don't like...black...babies..."

She stared at me as if I had just grown a second nose and and a third eye. I stared back at her with a stern expression, as if to really impress that I didn't like black babies. The corner of her mouth twitched for a moment, and then she let out a bark of laughter, but quickly covered her mouth. a third eye. I stared back at her with a stern expression, as if to really impress that I didn't like black babies. The corner of her mouth twitched for a moment, and then she let out a bark of laughter, but quickly covered her mouth.

"Oh, my G.o.d..." she said from under her hand. "This isn't even funny."

"No, but if I didn't make you laugh, I would have had to hit you with something to make you stop."

She wrapped her thin arms around my neck in a fierce hug. In all of the years I've known Donya, I had only seen her cry three times. The first time was when her dad died, the second time was when her mom died, and the third time was now. You would think it would be reversed, that I would be crying on her shoulder, but I understood. She and Mayson, and even Tabitha, felt that they had somehow let me down. They felt that they were deficient in their friends.h.i.+p and love for me for not knowing and for not being there for me after that day. They watched me transform into an entirely different person with no solid reasons as to why. They watched me detach myself from those I loved and the life I had once enjoyed. They were clueless as to how to pull me out of the hole I had dug for myself. It hurt them that I had suffered in silence. In a matter of seconds, I was being embraced by three sets of arms, and I didn't push them away.

"I want to hear more about Luke," Tabitha said awhile later, after I was sure Donya wasn't going to go murder Kyle.

I had insisted that we not discuss that night with Kyle again. I had asked them to never bring it up, pretend that they didn't know. This didn't go over well, and turned into a big argument, but it was Mayson who convinced the other two. Unfortunately, they jumped from talking about one man to talking about the other.

"What about him?" I sighed.

"Is there anything going on there?"

"I had no idea you were such a nosey person, Tabitha."

"Give me a break, Em. You and I have been out of touch for a long time and I don't know what everyone else already knows. I don't know if you and Luke are sliding around between the sheets or at each other's throats."

Thankfully, the candlelight wasn't enough light for them to see my face burn when she mentioned sliding around between the sheets.

"How is his mom?" Donya asked.

"She's better," I said, pouring a gla.s.s of wine. "She wants to move into an a.s.sisted living home, but the siblings are fighting her on it. They should let her go if she wants to, if it's a decent place, because it isn't like any of us can take her in. Lorraine and Lena don't have the s.p.a.ce or the time to care for her, and Luke and I don't have the s.p.a.ce either. Even after we buy a house, I'm not sure if that's a responsibility we want to undergo."

"Wait a minute," Mayson said, waving her hand to stop me from continuing. "You guys are buying a house together?"

"Yeah, actually we are," I said it as if it should be obvious. "We're living in a one bedroom apartment with a growing child."

"One bedroom?" Tabitha asked. "Who sleeps where?"

They all stared at me with big eyes again. I quickly drank my gla.s.s of wine.

"Lucas, obviously, has his own bed in the bedroom, and I sleep in Luke's bed."

"With Luke?" Mayson asked. She was only joking, but I hesitated long enough for her to jump to the correct conclusions. "You're sleeping with Luke!"

"You are are?" Donya gasped.

"Oh boy," I said and drank directly from the bottle this time.

I told them everything, from the day I told Luke about Lucas to present. By the time I finished, between the questions and answers and objections of "Oh s.h.i.+t!" and "No f.u.c.king way!" and "Shut up!" my alcoholic high had worn off, and a headache was forming at the front of my skull.

"So..."Donya said, her hands clasped together in front of her. I could tell by her tone that she was about to lay into me about something. "Let me get this straight, Emmy."

"Are you going to lecture me?" I sighed, rubbing my head.

"Maybe you need a lecture!"

"Maybe I need you to stop yelling."

"Emmy, I don't know if you know this about yourself, but you are obnoxious."

"Thanks."

"And you drink too much, and you have a seedy past what with your drugging and s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g other women's men."

"I only did that...like...twice..."

"Whatever. You have a lot of s.h.i.+t attached to you is what I am saying, and for some unG.o.dly reason, Luke Kessler wants you again again."

"And may I point out that the man is smokin' hot?" Mayson said and fanned herself with her hand. "Woo!"

"He is is hot," Tabitha said with a stupid grin. "Your boyfriend is definitely s.e.xy." hot," Tabitha said with a stupid grin. "Your boyfriend is definitely s.e.xy."

"Your boyfriend is s.e.xy as h.e.l.l," Donya agreed. "If he wasn't your boyfriend, and if I weren't married, I would definitely want to roll around in bed with him."

"And in a few other places," Tabitha giggled.

My three closest friends proceeded to talk about all of the ways they would have Luke if the opportunity were ever to be a reality. The giggling and obnoxious comments were getting under my skin a little bit, but I sat patiently, waiting for them to get their s.h.i.+t together.

"Sorry," Mayson said a few minutes later. "We shouldn't talk about your boyfriend like that."

"He's not my boyfriend," I objected.

"Well, he should be," Donya said.

"You already live together," Tabitha pointed out. "And you have a child together. What's one more step?"

"His family and our family get along so well, too," Mayson said. "Especially Sam. Sam and Luke's family are more like family than you and Sam. They talk to her like she's she's the matriarch of the matriarch of their their family." family."

"Thanks for reminding me of how much I don't fit in," I said dryly. Mayson hit a raw nerve.

"I didn't mean it the way it sounded," she tried to back track, but I cut her off.

"My mother finds out all of the family news before I do and I see these people almost daily. When Lena thought she had cancer again, I heard it from my mom first. If something news worthy happens in Louisiana, I hear it from Lena or Lorraine first."

"I thought you all got along really well," Donya said.

"We do, but...Luke's sisters are the kind of daughters my mom wants. They're a lot like my sisters in the sense that they're very family oriented and traditional. They got married young, then had children, and they don't drink or cheat or give their kids mohawks."

"Lucas's mohawk is h.e.l.la cute," Tabitha said.

"Well, whatever. They don't do that stuff. And my mom doesn't nag them about everything they do wrong, because they never do anything wrong.

"Luke's family is good to me, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I feel like I'm just Lucas's mom. I'm not Emmy, with my own needs and desires. I'm just the woman who gave birth to Lucas."

The liquor had really opened me up. The girls were quiet for a few beats, but then Donya broke the silence.

"If the rest of his family were the Manson family, it shouldn't matter. If that man loves you and wants you, that's all that matters. As long as he's not the Charlie of the family."

I don't want to hurt him again," I admitted out loud.

"Then try your d.a.m.nest not to," Mayson said.

"I don't want him to hurt me either."

"It's going to be a different kind of pain if you don't give it a shot and he ends up with someone else entirely," Donya said.

I let that thought resonate in my head for the rest of the night, and throughout the following day. While I played in the sand with Lucas, I imagined what it would be like if I had to share him with not just Luke, but with another woman. I couldn't think about it without my chest tightening, but I realized that couldn't be the only reason to go into a relations.h.i.+p. It was time for me to be honest with myself about my feelings for Luke, but I had one problem. I couldn't stop thinking about Kyle.

Chapter Forty-Five

I entrusted Lucas with Donya and my cousins and headed to South Jersey Thursday. Traffic was a b.i.t.c.h, but it left me plenty of time to reconsider what I was doing. My brain ping ponged back and forth, back and forth, as I considered the ramifications of what I was about to do, but by the time I reached Cherry Hill, my decision was made and there was no going back.

I checked my hair and makeup in my car before taking a deep breath and throwing myself out into the lukewarm September night air. In the elevator, I stupidly wondered if I should ring the bell or use my key. I was still asking myself that question when I got to the door.

"Stupid," I muttered and hit the doorbell.

The door opened almost immediately, as if he were waiting just on the other side of the door.

He smiled down at me.

"Why didn't you use your key?" Kyle asked, as he stepped aside to let me in. "Or do you not have it anymore?"

I held up my spare key. "Right here. I wasn't sure if I should use it or not."

I looked around. There were boxes everywhere, some full, some in the process of being filled. Other packing supplies were visible.

"Are you moving?"

"Yeah," he said, standing beside me surveying the room. "Going back over the bridge. I bought a really great apartment not far from work. It has three bedrooms, two and a half baths, and a lot of s.p.a.ce."

"Why do you need so much s.p.a.ce?"

He shrugged and then looked at me. "Maybe someday I won't be by myself."

I looked away, feeling slightly fl.u.s.tered.

"Are you hungry?" He asked. "I can order something, or we can go out. I have stuff we can make."