Authors: Portia Moore
“Lauren, what’s wrong? You hung up on me, the door was still open, you’re screaming at the top of your lungs…” Raven asks frantically.
“Cal,” I race past Raven into Caylen’s room. She looks up from her crib and smiles at me. I open her closet and see no one is there. Raven has rushed in the room behind me.
“Lauren, honey what’s wrong? What happened?” She leads me back over to the lounger and sits down, gathering me in her arms.
“He was here, he was here, Raven,” I stammer, in between sobs.
“Cal was here?” she asks frantically.
“He was here! He was in here with Caylen, talking to her,” I whimper, trying to catch my breath.
“You saw him?” Raven asks, confusion evident on her face.
“I-I heard him. On the baby monitor, I heard him talking to her,” I sniff.
Her expression changes. “Honey, did you actually see him?” she asks urgently.
“No, Raven, but I heard him. I was locked in my room. He had to have locked the door!” I yell at her.
“Honey, are you sure you weren’t dreaming?” she asks, trying to hug me and I pull away.
“No,” I tell her, beginning to cry harder. She looks at me in disbelief. “I wasn’t fucking dreaming!” I shout. Her face looks perplexed. I realize how harsh I sound, and wipe my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I begin to cry again. “But I wasn’t dreaming, I know I wasn’t Raven!”
“How do you know you weren’t, sweetie?” Raven asks in a calm tone, as if speaking any louder will set me off.
“Because I wasn’t. I’ve dreamed before, and this wasn’t a dream!” I try to convince her, though my throat is sore.
“Maybe you imagined it.”
“I didn’t imagine anything, I’m not hallucinating!”
“I didn’t say you were,” she tells me quickly.
I get up and walk over to the lounger I read to Caylen on and sink down into it, my face in my hands. “Why now then, Raven? Why, after almost two years I’ve just all of a sudden began to imagine things?” I screech.
“Well, today is Caylen’s birthday; maybe this triggered something. Maybe you feel bad about admitting you have feelings for Steven, I don’t know!” Raven tries to reason.
I look at her face; she won’t believe me, no matter what I say.
“Lauren, come have a cup of tea
.
I’m worried about you,” she says heading out of the bedroom. I scowl at her and she sighs continuing into the hall. I pick Caylen up, and take her into my arms. I head back in her room, slamming the door behind me. Sitting down on the bed, I hold her close, thankful that she’s okay.
“You know mommy’s not crazy, right?” I ask her. She stretches and waves her little arms, hitting me in the face. I can’t help but laugh.
“Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I imagined it all,” I mumble to myself. Then I notice a white gold bracelet on her tiny arm that I’ve never seen before. It’s engraved with the initials D.L.G. in cursive writing. I frown, not knowing what that means.
“But I know I’m not crazy,” I sigh in relief and hug her again.
February 7th 2011
Today’s our two-month anniversary and I’m ecstatic. Cal will be home from New York any minute and the steamy calls and texts we’ve been exchanging have me ready to jump him the second he hits the door. But I won’t. Tonight is going to be special. I have it all planned. Cal’s favorite band is playing at The Cave to a sold out crowd but I scored tickets from Ryan and after dinner on the rooftop Luc Helen’s chef will be making it, followed by Cal's favorite dessert: me, any way he likes.
When I hear the door open I rush to it and jump up into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist.
“Gorgeous.” He smiles widely before I attack his lips. He holds up easily with one arm then sets his bag down, still holding me in the other.
“I missed you,” I purr kissing his neck.
“You ready to show me,” he says, carrying me over to the couch. He starts to unbutton my sweater, and I lean away from him. His face drops, and I laugh.
“Not until later, babe,” I say, climbing off him.
“Later?” he asks the disappointment in his face like the pout of a five-year-old. He's still following me, but I continue to back away from him.
“Yes. I have it all planned. Just be a little patient,” I say with secrecy.
“Just to welcome me home? It’s appreciated but not needed. I want it now,” he says, catching me and picking me up.
I laugh, but then my face drops a little.
“You don’t know what today is?” I ask, a little disappointed--not too much, though. I mean, he is a man.
“It’s not your birthday, is it?” he asks.
I frown at him, and he puts me down.
“No, it’s silly anyway,” I say trying to sound indifferent. I go and sit on our couch.
He frowns at me. “Babe, please don’t expect me to remember all of these stupid little milestones, because if you do you’re going to be pissed at me-a lot,” he says, squatting in front of me so we’re at eye level.
“Seriously, Cal,” I say in disbelief.
“What?” he asks casually and I brush past him. He’s pretty much told me not to expect anything exciting or memorable from him. I wonder if holidays count? Maybe you don’t celebrate an anniversary every month and it’s only been two, but it’s been the happiest two months of my life. Stupid me, wanting to celebrate with him, he’s definitely making me rethink it.
“You’re mad.” He sighs, going to pick up his luggage.
“No. Well, yeah, I am. I can give you a pass for forgetting our anniversary, even though it was only two months ago but if you think I’m going to give you a pass for every holiday because you think it’s ‘’...” I trail off as he pulls out a beautifully-wrapped box all black with a red ribbon tied around it. He sets it on my lap. I look up at him and he’s smiling at me knowingly, arms folded.
“You were saying, Mrs. Scott?”
A huge grin spreads across my face and I roll my eyes at him.
“You’re a jerk, you know that?” I say, embarrassed, as I untie the red bow.
He sits beside me and kisses my neck as he watches me carefully remove the red ribbon.
“Come on babe, tear into it!” he urges me impatiently as he tickles my side.
“Okay, okay. It’s just so pretty,” I squeal removing the paper and when I see the golden-tan box that reads “Christian Louboutin,” I freeze. He looks at me, and a wider smile spreads across his face.
“You didn’t!” I say, and I frantically open the box to see a pair of cherry-red daffodil-crystal-embellished suede pumps--the same pumps I remember fawning over after seeing Jessica Alba wearing them at some awards show I made him watch with me.
“Oh my gosh! Cal,” I say, feeling awful for being mad at him.
“Read the card,” he says with a smile, pointing to the tiny card lying in between both shoes. I open it and read the words out loud.
“These shoes look like they’re straight out of 'The Wizard Of Oz,' but since sometimes I’m like the tornado that blew you into Oz, I guess you can wear Dorothy’s red slippers. And if I’m gone and seem lost, maybe you can do a little click and I’ll find my way home.”
I look at him and he looks down, a little embarrassed.
“It’s corny isn’t it?” he asks with a shy smile.
I nod and climb on his lap.
“As corny as you being my Prince Charming,” I say, cupping his face in my hands and kissing him softly on the lips.
He wraps his arms around my waist, holding me down on his lap.
“Are you going to wear them for me?” he says, a lustful glint in his eye.
“I have the perfect white dress for them,” I say running my hands through his hair.
“No dress. Just them,” he says biting his lip with a playful smile but I’ve known him long enough to know how serious he is.
“Later,” I promise. “I have to run and pick up your gift,” I say hopping off his lap. I run to the console table and grab my purse.
“No, my gift can be you,” he says pleadingly, and I laugh at him.
“It will be. Tonight,” I promise again, reaching the door. His expression looks like a sad puppy's.
“Don’t look at me like that.” I giggle, and he comes towards me. “No. Five feet,” I say threateningly, my hand on the doorknob, laughing. I know if he gets too close, I’ll be a goner.
“I hope you’ve gotten a lot of sleep since I’ve been gone. Because you’re going to be up all night,” he says, giving me a faux-warning and my body perks up at the thought.
“Plenty,” I say with a wink before slipping out the door.
***
As I walk back into the house, the television is on downstairs, Cal is nowhere in sight. I grab the remote and turn it off. I start to call Cal’s name but I hear him upstairs.
I make my way up and hear Cal yelling like he’s in an argument. The intensity of his voice causes me to pause not knowing if I should go back downstairs and give him his privacy or if I should rush into the room. But I don’t hear anyone else accept for Cal. I make my way up the stairs and pause before I’m right next to the door.
“I’m fucking furious! I can’t stop taking it. What the hell am I going to do? You told me you were sure before I did this. This changes everything! I’m not going to stop--I might as well be Dex! How the fuck am I supposed to explain this? I won’t. I can’t take her through that shit. Well, figure it out fast.” My heart is pounding, and my feet feel frozen on the floor. The only thing that removes them is a thud against the wall. I try to figure out what to do. I don’t know what's going on but I’ve never heard Cal that angry before when talking to Dexter. I don’t know why but I turn around back down the stairs, and when he opens the door I pretend I’m just making my way up.
Cal comes out, anger radiating off his face. He looks down at me, and it changes to something else. He looks almost remorseful.
“Cal, what’s wrong? You look upset,” I say, my voice giving away my nerves.
“Um.” He exhales and runs his hands over his face, and I see that his hand is red and scratched.
I rush up the stairs to him and hold his wrist in my hand.
“Cal, what did you do?!” I ask frantically, leading him into the guest bathroom.
“Don’t be mad, but I punched a hole in our wall,” he says casually, as I run water over his hand.
My head snaps toward him.
“Why did you do that?!” I say, grabbing our first-aid kit and pulling out the antibiotic wipes.
“Dex really pissed me off,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bathtub while I clean his hand.
I nod and take a deep breath.
“I kind of heard you talking to him,” I admit looking up at him guiltily. His eyes widen just for a moment before his calm demeanor returns. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t.
“Did it have something to do with me?” I ask, sitting on his lap.
“I’m--I’m going to be gone a little more than I thought I was,” he says, his gaze on the floor. I take a deep breath and smile.
“That’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay but it's nothing to go punching holes in the wall over,” I tease him running my hands through his hair. If we ever have kids one day, I hope they have his hair. It’s thick shiny and luscious like he’s in a shampoo commercial.
“I’m a big girl,” I add trying to comfort him, but really my heart has dropped in my stomach.
A shadow of a smile passes over his face but only briefly.
“I’m not feeling too good, babe. Would it be really fucked up if we didn’t go out tonight?” he says, searching my expression, and I don’t let a hint of my disappointment show.
I give him a wide smile.
“No, babe. If you’re not feeling well. It’s nothing we can’t do another day,” I lie with a smile covering up my disappointment.
“Are you sure? Because we can if you still want to do something I can just lie down,” he says, cupping my chin and looking into my eyes, as if he’s searching for my true feelings.
But I won’t let him see them. I know whatever happened during that conversation is going to have his mind a thousand miles away anyway.
“No, get some rest. It’s your first day back home and you’re probably jet-lagged. It’s fine,” I assure him, kissing him softly on the lips.
“I’m going to make it up to you,” he says as I get off his lap and I smile.
“And you don’t have to sit here with me. You should call your girls and go out,” he urges me as he walks into the bedroom and lies across the bed.
“I’m not going to spend our anniversary out with them. As long as I’m with you, that’s what’s important,” I say, crawling next to him.
He wraps one of his arms around me and holds me close to him.
“You know that I love you, right?” I’d expect for him to sound playful like his normal self but his tone is sullen.
“Of course I do,” I say, looking back at him curiously.
“No, seriously.” He turns my body around toward him, so I’m facing him completely. We’re eye to eye.
“No matter what. Whatever happens--if anything were to happen--nothing, under any circumstances,” He takes my hand and places it on his chest and holds it there. “Will ever take you from here.” I try to search for something to say. His words are heavy in the air and he continues. “Even if it doesn’t seem like it, always know how much I love you. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you, and even if I screw it up--”
I cup his face in my hand.
“Cal, you’re scaring me. Is everything okay?” I ask sitting up and leaning on my elbow.
The seriousness on his face vanishes and is replaced by a playful grin.
“Yeah, just trying to get laid,” he kids then pulls me down next to him again.
I smile but there’s still uneasiness crawling all over my body and I can’t ignore it.
“You can tell me anything. Nothing wouldn’t change the way I feel about you. You’ll always be my Cal,” I say honestly, from the pit of my soul ignoring his playful glare.
“I know. That’s why I love you,” he says, his boyish grin calming my earlier tremors. As he kisses me they slowly disappear.
I kiss him back and rest my head on his chest. And even though he insinuated his speech was an attempt to get sex he doesn’t touch me in a way that leads me to believe it. He holds me as if he’s just savoring us in this moment and I lie in his arms until we both fall asleep and I savor it too.
May 9th 2013