Chapter Twenty-Three – Uneasy
Feelings
Carly
“Yes?” I say, pushing the intercom next to my front door.
“Let me in, bitch.” Tara’s reply echoes off the walls in my foyer. I’m thankful that Natalia isn’t quite old enough to pay attention to her honorary aunt’s potty mouth. Without giving a reply, I push the button to unlock the front door.
A couple of minutes later, a fast knock to the beat of “shave and a haircut” reverberates through the kitchen. “Pizza delivery,” she yells through the door. My smile is full-wattage as I throw open the door for my best friend.
“Special delivery for one Miss Carly Mathewson and little Miss Natalia Mathewson,” she says as she breezes into the room, a fragrant cloud of pizza and perfume following in her wake.
“Why thank you, Miss Hunter. To what do we owe this pleasant surprise?” I ask, pulling a couple of plates out of the cabinet. While Tara prepares the pizza on the kitchen table, I grab Natalia from her toys in the living room.
“Do I need a reason to visit my very best friend and my niece?” she asks, flipping her short blond hair over her shoulder dramatically.
“Of course not,” I tell her as I cut up a slice of cheese pizza for Natalia, who immediately begins to smear sauce all over her face.
“Where’s Mr. Drop Dead Gorgeous tonight?” she asks before taking a bite of her own slice.
“Working. He sent me a text message just a bit ago, but he says he’ll be busy most of the night so he’s just going to crash at his place,” I tell her, dejected. I don’t want to admit it but having Blake in my bed every night has become as necessary as breathing. Those nights he works late and stays at his own place are the longest and loneliest nights ever. They remind me of all the nights without him over the last two years.
“Have you told him yet?” she asks with the hint of a smile.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh come on, Carly. You’re not dense. Have you told him that you love him?” she asks, raising that perfectly manicured eyebrow up towards her hairline.
I squirm a little in the wooden chair and help Natalia eat a little piece of her smashed pizza. Anything to take the weight of her words off my chest. But the longer I remain silent, the longer she continues to stare at me, waiting me out. “No,” I finally confirm.
“Carly, what the hell?” she asks, opening her mouth as she gets ready to say something else.
“Tara, it’s not that simple,” I start, cutting off her next statement.
“And why the hell not? You’ve pined after this man for what, two years? If you want something, Carly, take it. Don’t be a wienie.”
“Did you just call me a wienie?” I ask through sudden laughter.
“Yes. You’re being a wienie. Don’t let him slip through your fingers, Carly. You two found each other again. I know it’s scary, but you have to trust him. You trust him with your daughter, now trust him with your heart.”
Tara’s words bounce around in my head throughout the rest of the meal, while I get Natalia ready for bed, and while I pretend to sleep. Sleep doesn’t come easy, that’s for sure. My mind is racing and my heart is thumping, all while I try to decide if I can trust Blake with my heart.
The thing is: he already owns it.
* * *
I startle awake out of a dead sleep. It couldn’t have been that long ago since I finally allowed exhaustion to pull me into the deep slumber. The clock on my nightstand reads four-fifteen. After trying to find a comfortable position again and being unsuccessful, I grab the cell phone sitting next to my alarm clock.
Instantly, I find a text message sent at two a.m. What was he still doing up at two?
Blake: Thinking of you and missing you.
It might sound completely cliché, but I don’t care. Like a schoolgirl in love for the first time, I take my pointer finger and gently slide it over the screen, as if by touching his words, I could somehow touch him. I know it’s not going to happen, but I can’t help but reach for this little sliver of a connection.
As I continue to stare at his words, uneasiness sweeps through me. I don’t describe why or how, but something dark and troubling grabs a hold of me and won’t let go. I quickly throw my blankets off and slip quietly, yet quickly, into Natalia’s bedroom. She’s snuggled into her crib, her head resting against her crib sheet. I pull the blanket up and tuck it securely around her small body. Placing my hand on top of her sleeping head, the unnerving feeling inside of me doesn’t recede.
Giving her room a quick check, which includes searching her closet–for what? I don’t know–I realize I might be acting a little crazy. That still doesn’t stop me from slipping into the kitchen and making sure that the front door is securely latched. After confirming that both the lock and deadbolt are both fastened firmly, I pace the living room, stopping to look out the large window. The curtains are drawn, but I still check the street and the shadows for movement.
Deciding I’m not quite ready to head back to bed, I sit on the couch, pulling my knees securely under my chin. Whatever this weird feeling is, it won’t go away. Something happened tonight, but I have no clue what. My stomach churns and my heart races as I try to understand whatever it is my mind is trying to tell me.
After thirty minutes, I still have no clue what is going on or what to do. Blake is surely sleeping by now, and I don’t want to be that needy female that calls at all hours of the night. Yet something pulls me from deep down. I yearn to hear his voice just to know that he’s okay.
Settling back into bed, I reach for my phone. I touch those words a few more times before typing out a quick reply. I won’t give in to my urge to call him, but I pray that saying what’s on my mind will ease the tightness in my chest. When I set the phone back down on my nightstand, I try to settle in to a comfortable position. It takes me longer than I would have liked, but eventually, I drift off into a fitful sleep.