Dear Tabitha (20 page)

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Authors: Trudy Stiles

BOOK: Dear Tabitha
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Her smile fades from her face and her gaze drifts to the floor. Crap! The whole point of tonight is to forget about Halloween. I royally fucked up by saying that.

“Hey, Tabs. I’m sorry.” I walk toward her and grab her hand in mine. “Hey, hey. Come back to me.” I don’t want to lose her to her sadness in remembering what this day is.

Her eyes meet mine again and I see them glistening. Shit, she’s about to cry. Still holding her hand, I lead her over to the couch, and we sit down. “Talk to me, what are you thinking about?” I need her to open up to me.

“I haven’t heard those words in a long time. A very long time.” She pauses, and I swipe a tear from her cheek. “Trina loved Halloween so much. She would really make the kids who visited our house do a trick for a treat. She encouraged the little kids in our neighborhood to be creative. And boy, were they ever!” A small smile is back on her face as she looks into my eyes. “God, I miss her, Alex.”

I brush her cheek with my knuckles, and trace the curve of her jaw and chin. She stifles a sob. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s good to remember her, Tabs. She’d want to see you enjoying yourself and know that you’re happy.” I try to comfort her with my words.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be happy again,” she says. “I don’t know why I’m trying to pretend tonight.” She slumps her shoulders, looking defeated.

I pull her to me, hugging her tightly against my chest. “It’s a Non-Halloween-Christmas, or whatever Kirsten is calling it. You’ll enjoy yourself tonight, I promise.” I kiss the top of her head and smooth her hair with my hand.

I’m really trying to remain positive and supportive, but the truth is, I don’t remember a single pleasant Halloween in my house either. Reagan was always out with her friends, and I was left home alone with Pops. He was usually too drunk to hand out candy to the kids that would come to our house, so I had to do it myself. Because of this, I missed out on trick-or-treating every year. Pushing my own bad memories aside, I place my lips on her forehead. “Are you ready to go?” I ask.

She takes a deep breath and says, “Yeah, let’s go. I’m okay, I think.” She hesitates a little, but eventually stands up and reaches for my hand.

I grab hold, and we leave for the Merry-Un-Halloween party.

~

“Surprise!” The small group yells as they leap out from behind the bookshelves. Tabby jumps into my arms and stifles a scream. Her eyes are wide, and I’m not sure if she’s terrified or truly surprised.

“You okay?” I whisper in her ear.

She nods and looks back to the group in front of her. They are all wearing some of the ugliest sweaters that I’ve ever seen.

Kirsten runs up to Tabby, throwing her arms around her. “Happy Birthday, honey. I hope you enjoy your night!”

Tabby replies, “Um, this is for me?” She’s still slightly confused about what’s going on. I chuckle a little.

“Yes! This is your surprise party,” Kirsten says. “We decided that you deserve a quiet, low key party so I closed the store tonight and here we are!”

Tristan and Dax raise their beer bottles and nod their heads. Garrett waves and resumes his conversation with Dottie, the waitress that works with Tabs at the diner. Geez, he will try to get into anyone’s pants. Dottie is married with three kids. What a douchebag. I can tell she’s humoring him, but I’m sure she’ll try to duck away as soon as he stops talking.

I tense up when I suddenly realize who else is here. Seth. He’s standing behind Kirsten and grins at Tabby as he walks toward us. “Wow. Your sweaters are just, whoa,” he says through laughter. He reaches out and pulls Tabby into an embrace. “Happy Birthday, Tabby,” he says into her hair. Fuck! I can’t stand this guy! He’s been hanging around for a few months now, and she spends way too much time with him. Shit, the way she hugs him back makes me insane with jealousy.

“Thanks, Seth,” she says as she pulls away from him. His eyes never leave hers, and I’m ready to pummel him. She eventually looks away and addresses our friends. “Thank you, everyone. I wasn’t expecting any of this. Thank you.” Her voice trails off as she looks down at her feet.

“Merry-Un-Halloween-Birthday!” Kirsten yells and raises her glass. “Cheers!”

Tabby and I don’t have drinks to toast with, but that’s okay. As soon as her smile returns, I grab her hand and pull her across the room. Dax and Tristan both pull her into hugs. “Happy Birthday, Tabby,” Dax says as he lets her go.

“Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it.” She feels more comfortable around the band these days since they all finally realized how much she means to me. Dax no longer gives her a hard time, and Garrett finally stopped being a complete dick. Tristan was always warm toward her, but that’s his normal demeanor since he’s a huge flirt. As our relationship has grown to whatever it is, the guys have grown to care about her in their own way. I’m happy we can be her family here in Philly. Hopefully, it’s enough to keep her here with me.

The party is fun and light with everyone really enjoying themselves. Dottie has to leave early to help get her kids bathed and into bed. I laugh when Garrett’s eyes follow her out the door. Seriously, he’s a pig. Don’t get me wrong. Dottie is very attractive, but she’s married. Garrett needs to respect that.

After Tabby says goodbye to Dottie, she walks toward me and smiles. “Did I say thank you, yet?” she says as she reaches for my hand. I pull her toward the back of the bookstore. I see Seth watching us as we move out of sight. “Where are we going?” she asks.

I stop behind the last bookshelf and look up. Her eyes follow mine and she gasps. “Alex, what is that?”

“It’s mistletoe with a twist.” I smile and squeeze her hand. Above us is a plastic skull wrapped in fake mistletoe. I reach out to her and hold her face in my hands. “Happy Birthday, Tabs,” I whisper as I pull her so close that our noses are touching.

“Alex.” She inhales and her eyelashes tickle mine.

I’m done waiting for her to be ready for this again. I need to feel her, all of her. I softly touch my lips to hers and lace my hands through the back of her hair. She tenses slightly in my arms at first, but then slowly relaxes into me. Her arms wrap around my waist and her hips meet mine. Our teeth scrape against each other as our tongues become entwined. I breathe her in with each moment of the kiss and I can’t get enough. She moans and whimpers softly and I almost lose control. I know she can feel how hard I am since our bodies are pressed so close to each other. I don’t know where I end and she begins.

I slow my assault on her lips and trail kisses from her mouth along her jawline to the tender spot underneath her ear. She whimpers again and her knees almost give out. “Hey,” I whisper as I nuzzle into her neck, “was that okay?”

She tenses again in my arms, just a little, and her head shakes against my body. “It was good. Really good,” she says. “And this time I didn’t pass out.” I can hear the smile in her voice. Thank God! She doesn’t pull away from me. I look into her eyes as she continues, “That was our first real kiss, Alex. I loved it.” She raises her fingers to her lips. She couldn’t look more beautiful right now if she tried. The dim light from the party filters through the bookshelves, casting a shadow on half of her face. The other half is illuminated and her eyes glisten. Her face looks red and flushed from my stubble, and it’s so fucking hot. The scar on her cheek that Tony gave her has faded into the shadows and all I see are
my
marks.

Her eyes are filled with desire and need, but the rest of her body screams for comfort and protection. She seems conflicted with her emotions, struggling to break through her intense fear of intimacy.

But I know what I want and it’s her. My heart clenches as her expression changes. She throws herself into my arms and buries her head into my chest. The ugly sweater that I’m wearing must be rough against her cheek, but she holds on tight. “Thank you. Thank you,” she says over and over again into my chest.

I kiss the top of her head and squeeze her tight against me. I suddenly realize something that she’s probably not ready to hear.

I love her.

Present

Age 24

 

I’
M SITTING
in the bookstore office, and my hands shake uncontrollably. I don’t know if I’m ready to do this, but I have to. I’m going to call Marta. I have to know why she did what she did. Why they kept my daughter from me for all of these years. I dial her number and hit send. The phone rings three times before she picks up.

“Hello?” a groggy voice says on the other end of the line. I suddenly realize that it’s very early in Portland since it’s only nine o’clock in the morning here.

Just hearing her voice brings me back to the club in Portland. I imagine Tony ripping the phone from her hand to scream that he’s coming for me and I shudder.

“Marta,” I say, trying to mask my emotions.

She gasps into the phone. “Oh,
Cara
! Tabitha! My sweet girl! You got my letter! Thank God. Oh, thank God.” She starts to weep. For all of the time that I spent with this woman, I never saw her cry. Not once. She was always so stoic and strong. I admired this woman a long time ago. For all she endured in her abusive marriage. For all she endured with Tony. While she was mostly passive when it came to the violence that Tony unleashed on me, I’ve come to understand why she didn’t get involved. It’s what she always knew and how she lived. She was abused by her late husband and didn’t know how to help break the cycle with me. She did what she could to support me, but it wasn’t enough. I had to take things into my own hands.

“Marta,” I interrupt her sobs. “I need to know. Why?” I jump right to the point. I need to know now. Enough bullshit. I’ve waited long enough.

She catches her breath. “Oh, I have so much to tell you. So, so much. But first, you need to listen. I’m begging for your forgiveness. Begging you. What I did was wrong and I know that. I can’t apologize enough for what
we
did. Tony and me. I’m so very sorry and I need you to forgive me. Or at least promise me that you’ll try.”

Her tone is desperate and I can’t believe she’s asking me to forgive her. She and Tony stole my child from me. How is this even remotely forgivable? How can she be asking my forgiveness? I’m stunned by all of this but I’m curious to hear more.

“I don’t know what to say to you right now. Your letter was unexpected, to say the least. I find out that my daughter has been living with you for seven years. It makes me sick to think that she could have been subjected to the ugly monster that lived inside Tony. Please, dear God, tell me that he never laid a hand on her. Please.” I want so many answers. I need to hear the truth. But what’s most important is Sara and what could have happened to her at Tony’s hand.

“Oh, no! Please, don’t think that at all. For the little time that he did spend with her, he was wonderful. She was his princess and he never let her forget it,” she says.

I want to puke. That fucker called me Princess, and it was not a term of endearment. Whenever that word left his lips, it meant that I should duck and cover. His sneering directly led to a vicious beating or worse. I’m sickened over the fact that he called my daughter by the same pet name.

“So why, Marta, why did you contact me now? After all of these years?” I ask, trying to hide my anger.

“I need to tell you about Sara first. She is so beautiful and looks just like you, except her hair is curly.” She pauses. “She has all of your features. She is all you.”

Her describing my daughter to me is almost too much to hear. I’ve always wondered what Sara would grow up to look like. I’ve tried to picture her in my mind over the years, but couldn’t. I haven’t been able to imagine her face until now. “Thank you.”

“Sara knows all about you. I gave her the picture that I took of you holding her just after she was born. She keeps it on her nightstand. I’ve told her so much about you, and even though she’s never met you, I know that she loves you.”

Oh my God, hearing this makes my heart skip a beat. It amazes me to think that my daughter, whom I have never met, loves me. “Go on,” I urge her as my heart beats wildly in my chest and my hand shakes while holding the phone to my ear.

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