Chapter Nine

 

Any progress we had made up to that point was blown out of the water. It felt like all the eggs cracked all at once and we were sliding around in the mess of it all. We barely spoke to one another in the coming days, and to add insult to injury, Mother’s Day was the following weekend. It was a day I had been dreading, and our blow-up had made it worse. I don’t think I had ever felt so lonely.

I did myself a favor and skipped church. I decided I needed to get out of town and think on my own. I even turned my cell phone off. I didn’t want anyone calling and feeling sorry for me. I packed a cooler and my camera and headed out early. Blake was already in his shop when I set out. I didn’t bother saying goodbye. Communication was at an all-time low between us. The only talking that could be heard in our house as of late was either taking place on the television or Blake talking to Madeline. Every night I could hear him upstairs talking to her on his phone.

I think it was the most I had ever heard him speak. He sounded so happy and carefree when he spoke to her. It was the way he should be.

I headed up the 285 and caught Highway 50. I wasn’t sure where I was going. My only goal was to be as far away from Merryton as I could get for the day. Merryton was anything but merry. Blake and I were hanging on by a thread, my mother seemed upset with me because I wasn’t happy that Madeline was staying with us for the summer. Let’s not forget how I felt about myself. I wanted to be freaking Maria von Trapp, but I felt more like Cruella de Vil.

My first stop was on the summit of Monarch Pass. There were still pockets of snow on the mountains and it made for some pretty pictures of the columbines peeking out through the frozen precipitation. I was always amazed how delicate things could survive such harsh conditions. If only I could be more resilient.

After my first stop, I made my way through Gunnison to the Blue Mesa. I took another break there to sit on the shore of the reservoir and watch the small waves wash up against the shoreline. I watched as families gathered together to celebrate their moms. It made me miss mine. I suddenly felt selfish for not spending the day with the woman that made my life possible. I was consumed with myself lately, and angry—angry at God, angry at the world, and angry at the unfairness of life.

I got in my Tahoe and bawled and bawled as I wended my way through the canyon and toward Montrose, my stopping place for the day. There was an entrance to the Black Canyon not too far from there. The Black Canyon had several overlooks where you could stop and take pictures and read more about the history of the area.

I had always been fascinated with canyons. Mother Nature impressed me with what she could design with the amazing power of water. Water was an enigma to me. It was the giver of life and sometimes death; so necessary, but so destructive.

I got several great shots of nature, including terrific ones of a bald eagle and even a black bear. I was in my car for the bear sighting, thankfully. I had never seen one in the wild. It both frightened and excited me.

I headed into Montrose to gas up and get a very large Dr. Pepper before I drove the four hours back to Merryton. I liked Montrose—it reminded me of Merryton in both size and beauty. It, too, was in a valley and graced by mountains. Even better, no one knew me there.

By the time I pulled into Merryton it was dark, but that didn’t stop me from making my way to the cemetery. It only seemed right. I could consider myself a mother, right? I always grappled with that thought.

In the late evening hours I sat at my son’s grave and thought back to the previous Mother’s Day. It was a much happier occasion. We had barely started to be able to feel him kick on the outside. He packed quite the punch. When Blake and I were home together he was never far, and his hand could frequently be found against my bare abdomen. Neither of us tired of feeling Carter move inside me. I could still remember how it felt, and I ached for it.

I drove home slowly to an empty house. I had no idea where Blake would be at ten at night on a Sunday, but I was tired and didn’t put much thought into it. That is, I didn’t put much thought into it until he came crashing through our bedroom door a half-hour later. I knew he was upset from the onset—his eyes were ablaze—but I didn’t know why.

In just a few long strides he was by my side. He dropped to his knees and laid his head on my midsection and wrapped his arms around me. He was shaking.

Without thinking I reached out and stroked his hair. “Blake, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Jessica, where the hell have you been?”

“I spent the day driving and taking pictures.”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone? I’ve been sick with worry. And so is everyone else now.” He clung to me even tighter.

“I’m sorry. I turned my phone off, but there was no need to worry. I needed to be by myself.”

“Next time tell someone. Your parents and Cheyenne and Abby are beside themselves. I was about ready to call the police.”

“Okay. I honestly didn’t think you would notice.”

His phone rang. He immediately sat up and answered it. “She’s here,” he said. “She’s fine. She was out taking pictures. I’ll have her call you in the morning,” he said before he hung up. He looked up at me and I saw a mixture of fear and anger in his eyes.

I bit my lip nervously. “I really didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

“That was your dad. You need to call your parents in the morning.”

I nodded.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he scolded me like a parent of a child that had just run out in front of a car. He turned quickly and walked out, quietly shutting the door behind him.

I sat up all the way in bed, stunned. I had no idea my innocent act of taking a day to get away would cause such a stir. It added to my ever-increasing guilt. I felt like I couldn’t get anything right lately, at least not any of the most important things. I got out of bed and retrieved my cell phone. Within the seconds it took for it to come back on I was inundated with the beeping and buzzing that let me know I had a plethora of texts and voicemails. They were mostly from Blake.

I began to listen to the voice messages. They started off with the annoyance of just wondering where I was, but as time went on they became desperate pleas for me to call him. He wasn’t only worried something had happened to me, he was worried that I had left him. Every message was a plea for me to either be safe or for me to come home. The emotion in his voice was gut-wrenching. The last, “I love you,” tore at my heart. 

Interspersed between his calls were calls from my parents and best friends. They, too, were frantic.

I quickly sent texts to Cheyenne and Abby. I’m sure Blake had called them and told them I was fine, but I wanted to apologize. I would call both them and my parents in the morning. It was much too late now, and I needed to talk to Blake. I had no idea he would react in such a way. I should have left a note or gone out to the shop this morning and told him, but I let my hurt and pride get in the way.

I slowly crept out of my room and into the darkened great room. I was planning to head upstairs to where Blake now slept, but I noticed a dark silhouette sitting on the couch leaning forward with his face in his hands.

I felt lower than dust.

I carefully approached him. He remained still and didn’t acknowledge my presence.

I sat in front of him on the shaggy area rug. For a moment, I didn’t say anything. I kept waiting for him to look up. I wanted him to see in my eyes how truly sorry I was when I verbally apologized to him. “Blake,” I whispered.

He barely raised his head, but at least our eyes met.

In the dim light I could see the telltale mark of red eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t respond to my apology.

I knew sorry was inadequate for what I had unknowingly put him through. “I wouldn’t leave you without telling you first.”

He straightened up some. Now I had to look up at him. “Are you going to leave me?” he asked.

“I’ve been thinking maybe I should go stay with my parents. It’s not fair to bring Madeline here with the way things are between us. With the way I am,” I added quietly, embarrassed.

“What do you mean ‘the way you are’?”

“I’m a mess, Blake. I’m not good for anybody right now, especially you.” I let the tears fall down my cheek as I watched him process my words.

His eyes never left mine, but I knew he was lost in his thoughts as he paused to speak. “Jess, we can work this out. Leaving isn’t the answer.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“She’s a smart woman.”

“What if she’s wrong? What if we’re wrong? Things are only getting worse between us.”

He slid down the couch and joined me on the floor. “All I know is for the last several hours I felt the weight of the world come crashing down around me. Losing you isn’t an option for me.”

“Blake, I’m so lost, I can’t even find myself right now.”

Almost hesitantly he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me onto his lap. I couldn’t remember the last time we were this close. At first I was stiff, but as he rubbed my back I curled up into him and sobbed against his flannel shirt that smelled like musk.

I don’t know how long we sat there on the floor against the couch not saying a word; it seemed like at least an hour. The only muffled sounds came from me against Blake’s chest. His shirt was now soaked. I wondered if I would ever run out of tears.

Once the sobbing stopped and just the intermittent tears remained, Blake asked out of the blue, “Remember the first day we met?”

I smiled at the thought. I nodded my head against his chest. Speaking required too much energy at that moment.

“I don’t know if I ever told you, but I had been watching you for days as you ate your lunch and read your book out by the lake. Every day I looked forward to you taking off that hideous beret they made you wear and watching your hair fall down. And watching you make all sorts of faces while you read your book.”

I smiled again, thinking about the ridiculous uniform I had to wear and my time spent out by that glorious lake, and because I hadn’t been making faces at my book. The faces came because I was listening to him. He was a perfectionist, and the guys on his crew were definitely not living up to his expectations. They had constructed a gazebo that sat on the lake just off the pier. It looked perfect to me, but Blake found every flaw. He was particularly miffed about the paint job. I had been watching him scrape paint and touch up the others’ mistakes, among other things.

“Even from a distance,” he continued, “I knew beyond being beautiful, there was something about you. You possessed this self-assurance that I was even more attracted to. And then came the day when I was paying more attention to you than the task before me and I sliced my hand with the paint scraper. You came to my aid without a second thought. The blood didn’t even bother you. You took command of the situation by cleaning it and applying pressure, even if it was with my favorite shirt.”

“I asked you first if it was okay,” I said in my defense.

“Yes, you did.”

I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Then with that same confidence you let me know how much you disapproved of my first-aid skills.”

I shook my head. “Super glue isn’t meant for human skin.”

“I suppose not, but you still helped me apply it.”

“Only because you refused to go to urgent care and I didn’t want you getting super glue inside the wound.”

“I appreciated that. But then, just like that, you walked away, and like an idiot, I watched you go. I kept telling myself to call after you, or hell, even get your name, but I didn’t. I let you walk away. I stood there, beating myself up about it, but I still didn’t act. I tried going back to work, but I couldn’t get you off my mind. I told myself if by any chance you came back, I wouldn’t let you slip away without at least asking you what your name was and what your plans were for the rest of your life. And then you came back bearing bandages and antibiotic spray.”

“But you only asked me to dinner.” Which is what I had hoped for when I came back.

“I decided that was less threatening.”

“Good thinking.”

“Tonight, I felt the same way. I decided if you came back, I wouldn’t let you slip away. Just tell me what you want.”

“That’s the problem. I can’t have what I want. What I want died, literally. And I feel like part of me died right along with him.”

He held me closer. “I feel the same way. But Jess, I still see that confident, self-assured woman when I look at you. And I know if anyone can come through this, it’s you. And we still have each other.”

“What if I can’t? What if we can’t?”

“That’s not an option for me.”

“We both know after everything we’ve been through we can’t choose the outcome.”

“Maybe not, but twice now in the last year I thought I had lost you, and I can’t bear it.”

It was the most I’d heard him say in forever, and I realized how much I had missed those rare occasions when he opened up to me. I sank into him further and he held me until I felt like I was a part of him.

“Are you sure you want me around your daughter like this? When we are so unsure of our own relationship?”

“Jessica, I can’t think of anyone else I would want around Madeline. So we have some things to work out. What parents don’t? Please, just talk to me before you leave like you did today.”

I wasn’t sure about how to feel about him calling us parents, but I didn’t contradict him. “I am sorry that I worried you, but you do realize that you’re not the easiest person to talk to, right?”

“What do you mean? I always listen to you.”

“Maybe you listen, but you hardly ever respond.”

“I thought women wanted men to listen and not try to solve their problems.”

I laughed softly into his still damp shirt. “Blake, you don’t have to solve my problems. Just acknowledge them and maybe hold me and tell me it will be okay, even if it won’t be. Or I would even take chocolate as a consolation prize.”

“I could probably handle that.”

“And maybe try not to spring any other news on me for the time being.”

“Hmm …” he replied.

I braced myself and tried to sit up, but he gently pushed me back toward him and lied. “It will be okay.”

“Please don’t tell me you have any other children running around.”

“No,” he said, sounding like he was scraping a wire brush against his skin. “We need to talk about where Madeline is going to stay while she’s here.”

“We can convert the office upstairs into a bedroom,” I said quickly.

He paused and took several deep breaths. I knew I wasn’t going to like his response.

“I need the office. And, Jess … it’s time.”

I knew what he meant and my head knew he was right, but my heart was not on board.

“Carter’s room—”

I don’t know if I had ever heard him say Carter’s name since the day we lost him. “Move back into our room, and she can have the guest room.” I interrupted.

“I’m not moving back into our room until you’re ready to share our bed, in every way.” He waited to see if that would be the case.

I felt guilty not inviting him back, but I wanted it to be in the right way. I wanted to feel like myself again. I wanted to feel for him like a wife should. These past few weeks without him there I had felt less rejected. For months I had been lying in bed every night wondering why he didn’t touch me anymore, or why I couldn’t make myself touch him. The time apart had brought me some relief in that way.

“Besides, the baby’s room is where I want her.” I could not only hear the finality in his words, but also the hurt that I wasn’t welcoming him back into our bed.

Part of me really wanted to, but I meant what I said: I was a mess. I looked at my own body as broken.

“Blake,” I pleaded with my voice. I wasn’t ready for this.

He kissed the top of my head. “Jessica, we have to move on. Please.”

I nodded my head against his chest. I knew he was right, but it was killing me.

When I crawled into bed it was almost three in the morning. Blake didn’t seem to want to let go of me, and for the first time in a long time I took refuge in his arms. We might have stayed like that until morning, but as Blake pointed out, he wasn’t twenty anymore and though I was small in comparison to him, sitting on the hardwood floor holding me couldn’t have been all that comfortable. Even when things were right between us he was never one to hold me all night, even in the comfort of our king-size bed. He typically liked his space when sleeping, except for those few short, wonderful months when we thought we would be parents.

When we first were married, I was kind of hurt that he didn’t want to stay wrapped up together all night. I thought that’s what married couples did. I mean come on, every movie and television show portray happy couples waking up every morning in the arms of the person they had gone to bed with. It was a serious letdown when Blake told me he couldn’t sleep if he was holding me. What could I say to that? I wouldn’t deny him his sleep, but honestly I never slept as well as when I was wrapped up against him.

It was one idealistic thing I had to let go of.

Sleep did not come quickly as I lay there thinking about how I was going to save myself and my marriage, and about the impending arrival of Madeline. I still wasn’t sure that my staying was the best idea. I figured the poor girl was going through enough at the moment with her mom. Did she really need a crazy stepmom? But I couldn’t say no to Blake. I owed it to him to at least try.

Speaking of trying, I sat up and pulled out my journal from the nightstand next to my bed. I had tried the counseling route after Carter died, but quit going because I only felt worse. I was looking for a quick fix, and Dr. Ames wasn’t giving it to me. She had suggested that I get a journal and write every maddening, unfair, horrible, selfish, and even hurtful feeling I had in it. She wanted me to write about every detail of Carter’s pregnancy and birth, and even his death. But I never could. Because putting it all on paper made it too real for me, and I couldn’t deal with more real. After a few sessions, I thanked her for her time and never went back; it was probably not my best decision.

I supposed that I could at least write about how I felt about Madeline and the fact that my husband was a father without me being the mother. That reality was hitting me hard, and I knew for everyone’s sake I needed to deal with it.

I touched the paper several times with my pen before I could write anything, and even when I managed to write, only a few words came: My life wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.

I stared at those words for the longest time, and then suddenly this rush of words flooded my mind and I wrote and wrote and wrote some more. I wrote for an hour straight, until my eyes were so blurry from tears I couldn’t see anymore. What about that? Dr. Ames knew what she was talking about. For a brief moment I felt this rush of relief and release. It was nowhere close to feeling whole, but there was this small glimmer of hope creeping in that I hadn’t felt in quite a long while.

I placed the journal back in the nightstand and nestled into my bed, holding onto a pillow for comfort.

I was awakened at six by Blake kissing my forehead. I opened my eyes slowly to find him hovering over me, dressed and ready for the day. He was a workhorse. I had always admired that quality, even if at times I thought it interfered with us. “Is everything all right?” I asked.

“Just came in to say goodbye.”

How very unusual. We had let that simple gesture go by the wayside too long ago. “Goodbye,” I yawned.

He almost smiled, which was saying something for him. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said, like he was making sure.

“You’re going to baseball practice, right?”

He nodded.

“Maybe I’ll stop by and see how our newest team members are shaping up.” I had been meaning to, but hadn’t yet. I figured staying away from Blake in public was a good thing, that way no one could tell we were having more issues. I didn’t want to erase the good PR we had pulled off at the café several days ago.

“I’ll see you there,” he said as he walked away.

I tried going back to sleep but couldn’t, so I threw off the covers and started my day.

It’s never good when you need Dr. Pepper at seven in the morning, but like Blake, I wasn’t getting any younger and two hours of sleep was not nearly enough; caffeine was my only hope for surviving the day.

I walked into Jessie Belle’s through the front door. I had been forcing myself to be out among people no matter how crappy I felt. I walked in full of smiles, but I was still given knowing looks. I had forgotten that I had skipped church, on Mother’s Day no less.

My little ladies group waved me over almost as soon as I came in. They looked eager as I approached. Fran pulled over a nearby chair for me to sit in.

I took it and smiled at them curiously. I had never been invited to sit with them.

They all looked at me expectantly, but it was Doris who handed me a large gift bag.

Even more curious, I reached for the bag. “What’s this ladies?”

“Open it,” Ingrid encouraged gently.

“Okay.” I smiled. I removed the massive amount of cream-colored tissue paper that looked nice against the craft paper bag. I peered in and my emotions immediately got the best of me. Through my faucet of tears I pulled out a beautiful patchwork quilt. The whites, blues, and patterned blocks melded beautifully together. I held it to me. “What is this for?”

“We wanted you to know you’re loved,” Gerri said. The rest of the ladies nodded their heads in agreement.

“Thank you. It’s gorgeous, and the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received.”

Fran took it from me and opened it up. “See this pocket.” She pointed to it. “You can put something from your baby in it, so when you wrap it around you it will be like you’re getting a hug straight from heaven.”

The tears poured more heavily. I had several napkins pushed my way and I took the lot of them. Carter was perhaps the only reason I hung onto the hope that there was a God, because surely if there was a heaven, Carter would be there. I wanted to believe he was in heaven watching over us, that his soul lived on somewhere.

I stood up and held the blanket to me. “You ladies order whatever you want. On the house. Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.”

They all smiled through their own tears.

I walked back to my office through the stares of several onlookers. I didn’t need to explain my tears. I’m sure the ladies would explain for me after I exited. I had no doubt I would be talked about, but this time I didn’t mind.

I sat at my desk with the blanket in hand. I looked over all the tiny details, like the intricate stitching. It even smelled heavenly, like a baby. I don’t know how they managed that, but the scent was intoxicating.

In the midst of my love fest for the quilt, my mother barged in without knocking or pretense.

“Young lady—” she growled, but she stopped when she noticed the tears and that I was wrapped up in a quilt at work.

“Yes?” I replied innocently.

She neared with a bewildered look in her eye. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t this the most beautiful quilt?” I asked instead of answering.

“Yes, but what are you doing with it?”

“The little craft group made it for me.”

“How lovely.”

“It really is.”

My mom reached out and touched the soft fabric. “Beautiful detail,” she remarked.

I nodded.

Her face went from soft and sweet to stern in a second flat. “What were you thinking yesterday?” I guess the niceties were over.

“I’m sorry. I had no idea it would cause such an uproar.”

“Uproar? Honey, your husband was beside himself. He was in such a state even your dad was nice to him.”

I felt my eyes widen at that particular piece of news.

“The only time I’ve ever seen him like that was last year when you were rushed into surgery and he thought they might not be able to save your life.”

“Mom, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else I can say. I needed some time to myself. Blake and I hadn’t been speaking to each other. I honestly thought he wouldn’t notice.”

“Believe me, he noticed. He was ready to call the police, search and rescue, you name it. Had your dad not calmed him down he may have done just that. But then it hit him that maybe you had left him. Are you planning on leaving your husband?”

Well if I had been, I would have changed my mind. I’d never seen her look so disappointed in me. I didn’t know if she had ever looked at me like that. “No,” I said simply. I was a little miffed to be scolded like a child.

I saw her visibly relax.

“But Mom, you need to prepare yourself that we may not have the happy ending you and Dad have. We may not survive this. And if that happens I need to know that you will still love me.”

Her features softened as she stepped closer and lifted my chin with her hand. “Jessica Isabelle Summers, there is nothing you can do that would make me not love you. Now go find your husband and work this out.”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom, Blake is working and we talked last night. We’re trying.”

“Do or do not. There is no try.”

“Thanks, Yoda.”

“Is that quote really from Star Wars?” my mother asked.

“Yes, Mom. And we are trying.”

“Your husband loves you. Try harder.”

“Where’s Dad?” I smiled. I needed some parental love.

“Your dad and I are in agreement here.”

“Great. If Blake and I do spilt up, I’ll send him to live with you since you apparently love him more.”

“Don’t joke about things like that.”

“I’m not.”

She actually shook her finger at me.

“Can I get back to work now?”

She dropped her hand. “I love you, Jessie Belle. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

“I know. I’m doing the best I can right now.”

“Maybe you should go and see Dr. Ames again. Or perhaps get some couples counseling.”

“Do you see Blake going to counseling?”

My mother smiled knowingly.

We were talking about the man that super glued his skin together when what he really needed was stitches. Something my father, the doctor, had never been impressed with.

My mom gave me a tight squeeze. “I love you, honey.”

“Uh-huh.”

She looked at me incredulously.

“I love you, too.”

I loved my mother, but she could drive me crazy sometimes. I think she thought the whole world should be in love, and it was her job to make sure it came to pass.

She was not my last visitor of the day. Around noon I was out talking to Easton, who had now been frequenting the café for lunch, too. I think he needed someone to talk to, and for some reason, I was it.

“Kathryn moved out over the weekend,” he started off.

“I’m sorry?” I wasn’t sure if he was relieved or upset.

“It’s a good thing.”

“How’s Emmy taking it?”

“She’s so quiet, but she’s always been that way.”

“So, will she be staying with you?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “I wouldn’t let Kathryn have her even if she wanted to.”

That didn’t sound right, but I wasn’t surprised. Kathryn never struck me as the motherly type, unless you count those that eat their young when they’re born. Easton had always seemed to be the caretaker.

“I’m here if you need help with her.”

“Could you watch her tonight during practice?”

“I would love to. Bring her to the ballpark. I planned on being there tonight already. I’ll see if Abby can bring her kids and we’ll play at the park.”

He gave a small sort of grin. “Thanks, Jessie. That would be good for her. She’s staying with Helen during the day now, and though she is sweet, I think Helen’s idea of childcare involves a lot of television.”

Oh, Helen. She was the sweetest little lady. She was our school librarian back in the day, but she retired a few years ago. I never thought her job fit her. I don’t know how many books she actually read, but ask her about any television show or movie and she could give you a full review. She never married and lived in this cute pink house near the town square. It fit her perfectly.

“I asked Taylor if Ashley could come for the summer to watch her, but not surprisingly, she shot down that idea.”

I raised my eyebrows. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but that was kind of gutsy and maybe a little stupid.”

“Yeah, I know. I really screwed up. I know Taylor won’t believe this, but my biggest regret is missing out on Ashley’s life. But I can’t blame her for feeling like she has to protect her from me. I’ve been a terrible father to her. My daughters don’t even know each other. How wrong is that?”

“It’s not too late to make amends. From what Taylor says, Ashley’s a great kid and she wants her dad in her life.”

He looked up, his eyes hopeful. “Did she really say that?”

I nodded and gave him a closed-lipped smile.

“Do you think Taylor would give me the chance?”

“As long as she feels like you are sincere and you’re not going to flit in and out of Ashley’s life, then yes. But you know Taylor; it’s going to take some convincing.”

He smiled. “Well, at least I chose one good mother for my children.”

“She is a good mom.” I always thought so when they lived here, and still did as I’d watched Ashley grow up on social media. Every post on Taylor’s blog or on Facebook had always been about Ashley. How Easton went from Taylor to Kathryn I’ll never know. I think he was trying to figure that out, too. But I couldn’t judge him. I had my own marital issues and you never knew what went on behind closed doors.

Abby and Cheyenne interrupted our conversation. I could tell they were bursting to know what had happened the previous day. We left Easton to his lunch and headed to my office. The last thing I needed was for us to be overheard.

“I think for Easton Cole I would re-think my never settling with one man policy,” Cheyenne said as we walked back.

I smacked her arm. “Cheyenne, the man isn’t even divorced.” And as much as I loved Cheyenne, she was the last thing Easton needed. Besides, I had a sneaking suspicion he still had some buried feelings for Taylor.

“He will be soon.”

Abby and I both rolled our eyes. She was too much sometimes.

As soon as we settled in my office, they commenced with the third degree.

“First of all, don’t ever scare us like that again,” Cheyenne said with Abby nodding her head. “Secondly, I never thought I would say this, but I think maybe I could like Blake.”

“Really?” I asked. Those two had never gotten along. They were the antithesis of each other.

“He was so worried about you,” Abby threw in.

“Yes, but it was good to see him squirm after taking advantage of you all these years.” Cheyenne couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

“I’m just saying I don’t think Blake has put a whole lot of effort into your relationship. You’re alone a lot for being a married woman.”

Hmm. I wasn’t sure how to respond. My marriage is something that I had mostly kept private, as I should have. “Blake and I have both contributed to our problems.”

“Maybe so,” Abby said, “but I think Cheyenne’s right. He’s never seemed to want to be a part of your life until recently.”

I held back the tears. I was tired of crying. Blake had done nothing malicious. I think he just didn’t understand how important some things were to me, and he was busy building a business. “We’re both trying to make some changes.”

“Make sure he’s worthy of you this time,” Cheyenne added in.

“Let’s not talk about my marriage anymore,” I had already had enough from my mother earlier. “Do you guys want to catch practice tonight?”

Cheyenne’s eyes lit up. “Uh, yeah. Easton’s playing right?”

This time Abby smacked her. “I thought you were dating Kent?”

“I am.” She grinned wickedly.

“You better keep dating him until the season’s over,” I admonished her. “We can’t afford to have anyone quit the team.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

We all laughed.

It felt good to laugh.