Jessie Belle: The Women of Merryton - Book One (15 page)

“So
what kind of things do you like to eat?” I figured that was a good thing to
know.

She
held up her fingers and counted off her favorite foods. “I love pizza, ice
cream, mac and cheese, nachos, cheeseburgers, and tacos. And I can make a
really yummy chocolate cake.”

I
could see Blake cringe from the corner of my eye.

“Really?
Do you like to bake?”

She
shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Me,
too.”

She
smiled. She was a very pretty girl. I was happy to see a lot of Blake in her.
Even her crooked little grin reminded me of him. And she was lucky enough to
get his eyes and thick eyelashes. They weren’t as dark as Blake’s, but they
were thick and long like his. She also had his olive skin tone, and it looked
good with her dark blond hair.

“What
other things do you like to do?”

“I
like to swim, play soccer, go to the movies, talk to my friends, listen to
music, you know, and stuff.”

“Well
we have a pool at the rec center where your dad and I go. We’ll add you to our
membership.”

“I
already did,” Blake chimed in.

“Oh,
good.”

“My
dad said he’s going to teach me how to play racquetball.”

That
caught me off guard. I turned to my husband and he nodded in the affirmative. I
reminded myself I was an adult and whining was far beneath me, but I was a tad
ticked off that I had asked him to teach me and he offered to pay for lessons.
I turned around and didn’t say anything. It was only racquetball, after all.
I
probably wouldn’t even like it
, I lied to myself to make me feel better.

I
let father and daughter talk the rest of the way there, only jumping in if I
was asked a question. And boy, did that girl have a lot of questions,
everything from did I dye my hair, to what did our house in Merryton look like.

Brick
Oven’s
parking lot was packed, which made Blake grimace. Too many people for his
taste, but he didn’t say anything other than, “This place does look familiar.”

“Did
you see the Y on the mountain? It lights up at night,” Maddie told us excitedly
as we walked in.

“Yeah,
we’ve hiked up to it before,” I informed her. “Do you at least remember that?”
I asked my husband.

“Yes?”

“You’re
hopeless.”

“Wait,
did we go with Cameron and his wife?”

I
nodded and smiled. Cameron worked on Blake’s crew, but only in the summer. He
and his wife, Harper, were students at BYU and probably the cutest couple ever.
They invited us to double date with them, and Blake had reluctantly accepted.
We first ate at Brick Oven and then we hiked up to the Y. It was quite the
workout, but the part I remember most was when Blake held us back and let
Cameron and Harper get quite a bit farther along than us on the trail. It was
the first time he ever kissed me. It was the first time I had felt like I was
part of someone. The look in his eyes right before our lips met told a story,
our story. I knew then I would marry him. It was why I was so devastated and
confused when he later broke up with me.

Even
though
the parking lot was crowded, we were seated right away. The inside was bigger
than the outside made it out to be. I forgot what living in Utah was like, as I
looked around at all the very young couples and their young children. I thought
of our old friends, Cameron and Harper, and the last Christmas card we received
from them. They had four children with one on the way. It made me glad we
didn’t move back to Utah—not that it wasn’t a lovely place, but it seemed like
everyone there was always pregnant. That would have been really depressing for me.
Even now it made me ache.

I
touched my mid-section inadvertently. I wasn’t sure that empty feeling was ever
going to go away.

Maddie
got her first experience of what it was like to eat with her dad. Like normal
people, Maddie and I split a pepperoni pizza. Blake, on the other hand, ate
strictly from the salad bar. He didn’t even use dressing, which is kind of
wrong in my book. I think Maddie thought so, too.

“That’s
all you’re going to eat?” she asked him.

He
nodded in the affirmative.

“It
doesn’t look very good,” she added.

“It’s
good for you. You should eat more vegetables,” he responded.

“Do
I have to?” she asked with a crinkled brow and scrunched up nose on her pretty
face.

I
figured I had better step in. “We’ll try some different things and see what you
like when we get home. Just enjoy your pizza.”

She
smiled happily and took a large gulp of her homemade root beer.

“We
don’t keep soda at home,” Blake threw out there.

I
put my hand on his knee and gently squeezed it under the table. Blake was
totally against soda of any kind, and it was the one thing he’d tried to
convince me to give up entirely, but sometimes a gal just needs a Dr. Pepper.
And I did keep some in the house; I just stashed it away from him. Believe me,
I knew soda was bad for you and I rarely drank it, but I wasn’t one to get
crazy about it, either.

Blake
looked at me like, “What?”

I
tried to convey with my eyes that he needed to lay off being the food police
tonight. But I didn’t have to: we now had in our midst a very observant and
unfiltered teenager.

“I
think she wants you to stop talking,” Maddie said.

We
both looked at her and she acted as if she said nothing out of the ordinary,
with her wide, innocent, gray eyes.

Blake
looked back at me. “You don’t want me to talk?”

“Of
course I want you talk. I was just thinking maybe we could discuss some other
topics, like perhaps all the fun things you have planned for Maddie this
summer.”

“I
already told her I would take her camping and swimming.”

Have
I ever mentioned how dense he was? Okay, maybe dense wasn’t the correct term.
He was very cut and dry, and he didn’t know women at all. Even though he’d been
married to one for over thirteen years. I suppose that was my fault. Until
lately, I’ve never really voiced my preferences, and if we disagreed, we were
ones to agree to disagree and not talk about it again, which my therapist
warned wasn’t a good way to go. She said doing that leads couples to feel like they
are leading empty lives. I desperately didn’t want to be one of those couples.

I
turned to Maddie, who looked amused.
How odd
, I thought. “Maybe we can
go to Elitch Gardens too—it’s an amusement park in Denver.”

“Like
Lagoon?” Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Yeah,
just like that, but I think it’s bigger.”

“That
would be fun,” she replied.

I
smile and nodded at her. “And I’m sure my mom has some fun things planned for
when you stay with her.”

“Is
your mom old?”

I
shook my head. “I don’t consider her to be old.”

“My
grandma was old and she died.”

“I’m
sorry about that.”

“It’s
okay, she wasn’t very nice to me and she smelled weird.”

I
tried not to smile at that last bit.

“Well,
my mom is the kindest person I know and she always smells good. And she’s
really looking forward to meeting you.”

Dinner
after that was just a barrage of questions. She was definitely curious, and did
I mention bold? Not in a bad way, but in a way I kind of admired. She reminded
me a bit of Cheyenne, which kind of worried me, as Cheyenne and my husband were
like oil and water. I saw some head-butting in our future, but for right now
they seemed to get along well. I certainly liked her and her spunkiness. I
hoped I would get more comfortable with her as time went on.

When
we returned to her apartment, Blake and I were both surprised to find that her
mother’s friend was more of a boyfriend, and a sleazy one at that. He instantly
gave me the creeps. I leaned in closer to Blake. He must have felt the same way
since he immediately wrapped his arm around me tighter.

We
came in to find them on the couch, and it looked like we had interrupted
something, if you get my drift. They were straightening out clothing and hair
when we came up on them. Randy the sleaze ball had ick written all over him,
from his greasy hair to his stained wife-beater t-shirt. He also had wandering
eyes, and I didn’t appreciate that they wandered over me. My next thought
should have been my first thought—I was still getting used to being Maria von
Trapp—but I thought how I didn’t want this guy anywhere near Maddie.

Randy
approached us and the smell of stale beer mixed in with body odor and cigarette
smoke radiated from him. I had a hard time not coughing or choking.

He
offered his hand to Blake, “You must be Maddie’s dad.”

Blake
reluctantly shook his hand. “I am.”

Randy
looked my way and I got the shivers. “You must be—”

“This
is my wife,” Blake cut in.

Randy
nodded at Blake in that slime ball sort of way.

I
looked over to Sabrina and wondered why she would bring such a loser into her
house, especially since she was the parent of a teen girl. It made me wonder
what kind of life Maddie had lived. I thought her boyfriend Hal had been bad,
but this guy was vile.

Maddie
had stopped to put the leftovers in the fridge and make her mom a plate of
food. I watched her as she walked in with plate in hand, and I could see her
tense at the sight of Randy. That wasn’t going to do.

“Blake
and I were wondering if Maddie could stay with us tonight?” I blurted out. I
looked up to Blake’s wide eyes, but he wore a grin on his handsome face.

“Could
I?” Maddie shouted excitedly.

“Yeah,
why not?” her mom said too quickly and casually.

I
thought for sure she would take some time to think about it. I mean, her
daughter was getting ready to leave her for the entire summer.

Maddie
quickly handed her mom the plate of pizza and disappeared back down the tiny
hall.

“Do
you want to sit down?” Sabrina asked us.

I
looked at the options, the couch where she sat or a green recliner that had
seen much better days.

“No,”
Blake answered. “We need to be going.”

We
didn’t have any pressing plans, but the sooner we were out of there the better.
My skin was crawling. I’m sure his was, too. I almost felt like I wanted to
shower.

Randy
sat next to Sabrina and put his slinky arm around her. Then he leaned in and
planted a gross kiss on her lips.

I
looked up to Blake, and let’s just say he was less than impressed. He looked
down at me with his reddened face and he mouthed, “Thank you.”

I
smiled in return and he kissed my forehead lightly. It was as if for a minute
we were alone and not in a filth-ridden apartment. It was so easy to get lost
in him.

Maddie
came back quickly carrying a small, black backpack and a brown teddy bear.

Blake
turned to Sabrina, “Don’t forget we’re meeting with my lawyer tomorrow and I
need a copy of Madeline’s medical records.”

She
looked up at Blake like she didn’t comprehend what he was saying. Her eyes were
awfully glazed over. “What?” she questioned.

“Tomorrow,”
Blake said irritated, “we are meeting with my lawyer. I need you to be there
and I need you to bring a copy of Madeline’s medical records.”

“Oh,
yeah, yeah.” She waved. “I’ll have Randy bring me.”

“Just
make sure you’re there,” Blake said slowly and succinctly to make sure she got
the message.

“Uh
huh,” she replied.

This
time I took a hold of Maddie. I wasn’t going to let her go near that creep on
the couch. “Let’s go, honey.”

“Bye,
Mom,” she called out as we made our escape.

I
barely heard a muffled bye in return.

I
shook my head at the unfairness of it all. I looked up to the sky as soon as we
were out. I thought,
God if you are really there. Why? Why does someone like
Sabrina get to be a mom and not me?

As
I looked through my suitcase to change into my nightgown for bed, I realized
that I had stupidly taken Cheyenne’s advice and brought something a little
provocative to wear. She thought maybe if I felt sexy it would end my career as
a nun, or it would at least ease me into getting comfortable with my body
again. I pulled out the tiny, black, silk women’s boxer shorts and the barely
there silk camisole that went with them. It was definitely not child-appropriate.

I
shoved the lingerie back into my suitcase and hid it under a layer of clothing.
“Blake,” I called. He and Maddie were sitting in front of the television
watching reruns of
Full House
.

He
peeked around the half wall that divided where the king-size bed stood and the
living room area where Maddie would be sleeping on the pullout couch. “Yeah,”
he answered.

He
looked happy - happier than I had seen him in months, or maybe ever.

“Do
you have an extra t-shirt I can sleep in?”

Blake
was a tall guy and his t-shirts practically looked like dresses on me.

“Did
you forget your pajamas?”

“Uh,
no.”

He
was curious now. He walked toward me, grinning. “So you just want to wear my
shirt?”

“Maybe.”

“I
do like you in my shirts.”

“Great,
will you get me one?”

“Sure.”
He smirked.

He
walked over to the dresser drawer and pulled out a dark blue cotton shirt.

I
always thought it was funny that he always unpacked completely, even if we were
only staying a night or two.

He
handed me the shirt, but didn’t let go of it. Instead he used it to pull me to
him. His hands slid down to my waist and he wrapped me up against him. “Thank
you,” he whispered in my ear.

“For
what?”

“For
being amazing through all of this. I couldn’t do this without you.”

“Sure
you could,” I whispered against him.

He
hugged me tighter and spoke lower in my ear. “I wouldn’t want to. Are you sure
you’re all right with me sharing the bed with you tonight?”

I
laughed softly against him. “I think I can manage.”

He
groaned lowly against my ear and kissed me. That began his lips’ slow journey
down my face and then to my neck.

It
sent shivers down my spine. My hands had just about gained their courage to
make their way through his hair.

“Dad,”
Maddie called.

We
broke apart and gave each other knowing grins. And so it began. Now was
probably not the best time in our life to get our sex life back on track.
Having a child around added a new obstacle to it all.

“Yeah,”
he called back.

“I’m
tired. Can you help me pull out the bed?”

Without
another word he left to rescue his daughter.

I
took the time to get ready for bed, going through my nightly ritual of
scrubbing my face and moisturizing practically every body part. I loved living
in the west, but the dry air was killer on my skin.

I
crawled into bed and listened to Blake talk to Maddie. He told her about summer
school, which she was none too happy about. I think her words were, “What the
flip?” I hadn’t heard the word flip used like that in forever. It was a Utah
saying for sure. Blake explained to her that he didn’t want her to be held
back. She still wasn’t happy. “My mom doesn’t care if I get good grades.”

“Well,
I do. And so should you,” he told her kindly but firmly.

“I’m
not smart,” she said, like that settled the matter. I had to admire her spunk.

“You
are smart. You just need to apply yourself. And I’ll help you or get you any
help you need.”

“This
sucks,” she said.

Why
did I think we were in for a wild ride? I was waiting for Blake to correct her
choice of words, but he didn’t. All I heard him say was, “Sleep well, Madeline.
Goodnight.”

A
moment later he appeared around the half wall. He looked a little out of sorts.
“I’m going to take a shower.”

I
settled in under the fluffy down comforter, but as soon as I heard the water
from the shower, I heard some other waterworks, too. I could hear some
sniffling coming from the living area. I sat back up, not sure what to do. But
then I thought, what would friggin’ Maria von Trapp do? I threw off the covers
and crept quietly to the pull-out bed where Maddie was lying, curled up in a
ball and crying. I sat next to her and rubbed her back. “What’s wrong?”

“I
don’t want to go to summer school. I hate it,” she responded.

“It’s
only for the month, and the classes are only for half the day.”

“I
still hate it.”

Okay
Maria, what do I say?
I thought. I wasn’t ready for this. “You
know, you get to go to my old school and I know the teachers. They’re really
nice.” I’m not sure it was Maria-worthy, but it was the first thing that popped
into my head.

“They
won’t be to me, because I’m dumb.”

“Hey,
you’re not dumb.”

“Yes,
I am.”

I
stroked her pretty blond hair. “Why do you say that?”

“Because
I don’t read as well as everyone else and I suck at math.”

“That
doesn’t make you dumb, it just means you may need another way to learn, or that
you may have to put some extra effort into it. What your dad is doing will help
us figure out what you need so we can help you. This isn’t a punishment.”

“My
mom says school is stupid. She said it didn’t help her.”

Her
mom was an idiot, but I kept that to myself. “School is a door-opener.”

“What
does that mean?”

“What
do you want to be when you grow up?” I asked instead of answering.

She
thought for a minute. “I want to be an artist or a fashion designer.”

“That’s
great. So what is your plan to become an artist or fashion designer?”

“Plan?”

“What
college do you want to go to? What type of artist do you want to be? Who do you
want to design clothes for, or do you want to have your own line?”

“I
don’t know, I just want to draw pictures and sell them, or draw pictures of
clothes.”

“Okay.
Well, you need to learn about different techniques and different types of
fabrics and how to sell your products and where.”

“You
can just do it on the internet,” she countered.

“Yes,
but what about a website and advertising?”

“You
hire someone to do all that stuff.”

“That
can be very expensive, and the more you know about each aspect of your business
the better off you will be.”

She
made an “ugh” sort of sound and curled more into herself.

“Honey,
all I’m saying is the more education you can get, the more options and
opportunities you’ll have in life.”

“Did
you go college?”

“I
did.”

“What
about my dad?”

“He
didn’t, but he wishes he had. He didn’t have the same opportunity as you. Your
dad wants to give you something he didn’t have. Can you understand that?”

She
nodded her head.

“You
know summer school could be fun. You might meet some new friends.”

“Yeah,”
she said, not convinced.

“And
after school,” I took a deep breath and let it out, “you can come help me at
the café if you would like.”

She
turned toward me. Her gray, watery eyes shined in the darkened room. “You’d let
me help you?”

I
nodded my head.

“Can
I show you how to make chocolate cake?”

“Sure,
I’d like that.”

She
smiled wide.

I
touched her soft forehead. “Goodnight, Maddie.”

She
surprised me and hugged my midsection. I gave her a little hug in return.

“Goodnight,
Jessie.”

I
walked back to bed humming,
So Long, Farewell.
Maybe I would never be
Maria von Trapp, but that wasn’t too bad.

Blake,
who took the quickest showers ever, was already lying in bed when I returned. I
joined him and lay down facing him. His eyes were warm, and though he wasn’t
smiling, he looked content. He reached over and rested his hand on my cheek.
“Thank you,” he whispered quietly.

“Just
call me Maria,” I replied quietly.

He
smiled, confused. “Why?”

I
shook my head slightly. “I’ll explain later.”

“Goodnight,”
he responded. And with that he turned over and within a minute I could hear him
quietly snoring.

I,
on the other hand, lay on my back and stewed. Sleeping in the same bed with him
was bringing up all sorts of feelings. On one hand I was annoyed because he
didn’t try anything with me. I get that his daughter was close by, but really,
not even a kiss goodnight? On the other hand I was relieved, because I was
afraid if he wanted more I would have led him on and then not been able to
follow through. I was also kicking myself. I mean, why couldn’t I make myself
scoot the short distance over to him and put my arms around him? Part of me so
desperately craved to be near him, but then I thought of all the nights he so
easily put me off because sleep was more important to him. Then there was the
way I felt about my own body and how I worried about how he felt about my body.

That
was why I was in therapy.

I
woke up to an unfamiliar feeling. I found myself wrapped up against Blake. My
body immediately stiffened. 

“Relax,
Jessica,” Blake whispered low in my ear.

I
looked at the bedside clock to see that it was barely five in the morning. A
little too early to be up, but that was Blake. I took a deep breath and settled
against him.

“Jessica,
have I done something that hurt you or made you feel uncomfortable?”

“No,
why?” I whispered carefully.

“You
seem to tense up every time I touch you or come near you.”

I
turned over in his arms so I could see him. I wanted this conversation to be
face to face. I made myself reach up and touch his cheek and look into his eyes
that still looked warm and even inviting. “Blake, it’s not you, it’s me. I’m
broken.”

He
applied gentle pressure with his hand to the small of my back and brought me
closer to him. “What do you mean, you’re broken?”

I
felt the sting of the tears. “Ever since the surgery, I … don’t feel like me.
Like there’s something wrong with me. I feel like I failed you, and our baby.
And that I’m unattractive.”

He
reached up and gently ran the back of his hand down my wet cheek. “Jess, you
didn’t fail anyone, especially not me. I’m the failure here. I’ve obviously
failed to convey how beautiful I think you are. And how much better my life is
because of you.”

“Yeah,
we’ve been really happy together,” I responded sarcastically.

“So,
we have some things to work on. I couldn’t imagine my life with anyone but
you.”

“You
don’t have a very good imagination then.” I smiled.

He
smirked back.

“I
just want to feel whole and wanted and comfortable in my skin … and in yours.”

He
moved his hand up through my hair and pulled my face closer to his. His lips
just barely hovered above mine. “Believe me you’re wanted, but I can be patient
until you feel like you’re ready again.”

“Blake,
what if it takes a while? And you get tired of waiting?”

He
pulled his head back and narrowed his eyes. “Are you asking if I would cheat on
you?”

“Sometimes
I wonder if I had slept with you when we were dating that maybe … maybe we
wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Jess,”
he said almost angrily, “what happened with me and Sabrina had nothing to do
with you, other than the fact that I hated myself for pushing you away. It was
a moment of intoxicated insanity. I mean, look at her. There’s no comparison.
You were right to make us wait. I want Madeline to be just like you.” He leaned
in and brushed my lips once with his. “You are always worth the wait. You don’t
ever have to worry about that. I’m sorry you even had to ask that question.”

“I’m
sorry, too.”

“You
don’t need to apologize. Just tell me what we can do to fix things.”

“I
told you that Dr. Ames said we should touch each other more.”

He
grinned almost devilishly. “Finally, a doctor that makes sense.”

“Your
best friend is a doctor and so is my dad.”

“They’re
all right, too.”

“She
means like holding hands, kissing goodbye and hello, those types of things.”

“I’ve
been trying to be better at that.”