My Happy Ending Part 1, page 13
I drove aimlessly for hours, pulling up to a spot that I had to know I was heading to all along.
She was going to hate me for this.
How many times could I screw up, how many times would I go searching for solace before...
“What took you so long?” Kaitlyn asked as she opened the door to her home.
But I couldn’t speak.
I didn’t know what to say.
All I could do was bury my face in her neck...
And cry.
CHAPTER 10
TALLI
THEIR SONG?
Their song?
‘Everything’... that was ... for her?
Was it a blessing or a curse that I’d ended up with that Tuesday off work? I mean, if I’d heard or seen and been around everyone, there’s no way I could have held it together. Then again, here I sat at home, with that show on, curled up on the couch with a box of tissues beside me. Perhaps I’m a glutton for punishment; I should have known. And yet, here it was, right in front of me.
No wonder Jase had been trying to hard to reach me.
Really? Do they have to show them singing this? Does he have to look like that, like he’s pouring his heart into their song? No fucking wonder he didn’t want to record it himself, no wonder he let her record it and put it on her album.
And there he is again.
That’s... that’s IT! That’s it, I’ve fucking HAD it!
I grabbed my cell phone, hitting that accept call button, and I snapped, “What?”
Nothing. Fucking pussy.
“What?” I nearly shouted into the phone. “What the hell do you want now?”
Are you going to tell me she’s lying? Are you going to swear that song was for me, about us? Are you going to grovel, plead, tell me it wasn’t what it seemed?
But no.
Again, he said nothing.
I hit that end call button, tossing my phone onto my couch, bitterly wiping my tears away as I did so. If that was what he wanted, then so fucking be it.
Oh, and Bree... you silly little girl. That little comment you made when you were asked about you reputation for dressing too provocatively? “If some frumpy housewives can’t stand that their husbands wish they were more like me...” Yeah, I know, the paparazzi are going to come out to play now. I’ve played this game longer than you’ve been in this business, cupcake.
Am I going to break out that little black dress? No. Emphatically not. But this... this just wouldn’t do anymore.
I looked down at my t-shirt and sweatpants that hung on my size six body. I could make it to a four, I was already on my way down to a four. Did I have trampy clothes? Well, of course I did, but I had kids now, and I had enough class to not try and look like a street walker.
But a frumpy housewife?
Those days were over.
“Mommy, are you crying again?” Elizabeth asked as she came out to the living room. I clicked that television off as I stood up and placed a kiss on top of her head.
“Not anymore, Baby Girl,” I replied, tossing my tissues in the trash on my way to my bedroom.
“Did Daddy make you sad again?” she continued, following behind me.
“You have no reason to worry your pretty little head over it,” I said, opening my closet door and giving the clothes in the front a once-over. Oh, this would never do. All of my cute, hot clothes that had Jase on his knees had been pushed all the way to the back of the closet.
“Are you feeling okay, Mommy?” she asked warily.
“Of course I am.” I began pulling the clothes out of the back of the closet, placing them on my bed for me go look over. I didn’t have to wear scrubs when I wasn’t on rounds or scheduled to L & D. Why did I have so many... drab things? Why so many dark colors, so many loose-fitting things? Oh, right, because I haven’t been able to stand looking at myself since having Emily. It’s not the same; I’m not the same, no matter how much I work out, no matter how much I try, no matter how many pounds I lose, no matter how much I cut back on my eating, I cannot stand to look at myself.
And I certainly didn’t want anyone else to look either.
But... I’ve lost another five, possibly even more, pounds since moving out here. Maybe I could handle seeing myself in these clothes, in these colors again.
Maybe... maybe I could do my hair like I used to. I haven’t bothered to straighten it in a while either, or make it look sassy.
And makeup... I haven’t done too much in the makeup department, either. I know that Jase said I didn’t need much, but I didn’t even wear what I used to. I kept it simple, kept me simple.
Kept me invisible.
Did I need to do the makeup like I did in Vegas, or like I did when I was a teenager? No. But... but I could get the colors back out, I could start wearing the gloss again, I could show that I’m no frumpy housewife.
My phone began to ring again, and I knew that it wasn’t Jase calling by the ringtone. I set down the clothes I had in my hand and walked out to the living room to retrieve my phone, Elizabeth following me and chattering on and on behind me.
Fuck, had she been talking to me this entire time?
I picked up the phone, biting my lip when I saw it was the lawyer’s office. “Just a minute, Baby Girl,” I said to Elizabeth as I answered. “Hello?”
“Talia?” came the voice through the line. Oh, wow, once again—a call from Ms. Adler herself. I really do rank.
“Yes?”
“I just wanted to let you know the papers were served.”
Oh...
Oh, fuck.
That wasn’t supposed to hurt... this is what I want... this is what he wants...
“Talia?”
“Yes... yes, thank you for letting me know,” I stumbled over the words as my hands began to tremble.
“Not a problem. Of course, the media will pick up on this now, so be prepared. And I’ll let you know any response his team comes back with.”
Of course you will, it only pushes your bill through the roof, doesn’t it?
“Be prepared for him to fight back,” she continued. “And he may fight dirty.”
My eyes narrowed as I thought of that little tramp spending any more time with my children then she’d already weasled her way into.
“Let him try,” I said, my voice even once more.
“There’s my girl,” she replied with a laugh. “So, as soon as we hear from their camp, I’ll let you know their counteroffer.”
I thanked her, setting my phone down only to meet the worried look on my oldest daughter’s face. “Mommy?”
“I’m fine,”
“Don’t worry ‘bout you, I know, but...” I blinked a couple of times, taken off guard by her words. Suddenly, she smiled at me. “Can we play dress up?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You gots out your clothes... we can play dress up!” she said excitedly, her smile beaming.
“Dress up, huh?” I asked, pasting my smile back on.
“Yeah, and... and you can get out all your colorful stuff! You need to... to wear blue to Em’s party, Mommy. Daddy likes you in blue.”
My eyebrow shot up as Elizabeth continued her rambling.
“And sassy pants, Daddy tol’ Damien that your sassy pants make him...”
“My sassy pants aren’t exactly birthday party material,” I cut her off, trying to keep the conversation away from the subject of him.
“But... what about those pants, Mommy?” She pointed to another pair of black pants, dressier, clingier than the ones I’d been wearing lately.
“Those?” I asked, contemplating if I could fit into them now.
“And... and this shirt,” she continued on, pulling out a teal colored top that tied around my neck, showed lots of cleavage, and clung to my midsection before ending right at the top of my pants... when I was thin enough, that is.
“I can’t wear that to her party! There’s going to be... kids! Lots of kids, and... young lady, are you going through my drawers now?”
“If you don’t wear that, then... this?” she asked.
Oh, wow.
My black spaghetti strapped tank top. THE black spaghetti strapped tank top, the one I’d worn to the Cleveland concert.
“I still have this?” I asked, holding it up.
“But you need color, so don’t wear that,” she said, taking it out of my hands.
“Is that so?”
“Blue... blue... or red! Why not red, Mommy?”
“I don’t know, why not red?” I asked, a bit amused.
“Yellow!” Michael added when he ran in.
“You look good in yellow, too!” Elizabeth agreed. “Do you have yellow?”
“Not orange, though,” Michael said.
“Mommy doesn’t have anything orange.”
“Blue?” Michael asked.
“Tha’s what I was saying! Blue! See, Mommy? Blue.”
“That one!” Michael said, pointing to the top Elizabeth had pulled out earlier.
“No... no, no.”
“Chicken,” Elizabeth said, her arms crossed in front of her.
“I am not a chicken, I am an adult, and...” I groaned as my phone rang again.
“Wow, you’s popular today, Mommy!” Michael said as he followed me out to the living room.
“Sure,” I mumbled. “Where’s Em?”
“Asleep on my bed,” Elizabeth replied as I picked up the phone. Well, huh, that was odd.
“Hello?” I asked, recognizing the number as Sondra.
“Hi... Talli?”
“Yeah, Sondra, it’s me.”
“How are you?” she asked.
“As good as can be expected,” I said, trying to motion for the kids to be quiet as the kept rambling on about colors and what I should wear.
“Talli... I... I really hate to do this.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. “What?”
“Jase has to be in New York...”
“So he should have fucking stayed there,” I snapped, then immediately felt guilty. “I’m sorry, Sondra, it’s not your fault.”
“No, I... fuck, I just work for the guy right now, okay? I would love to kick him in the balls. I... don’t know where he’s at right now, or I’d do it. But he... won’t be there to get the kids tomorrow.”
“Wonderful, I have to disappoint them again. And he couldn’t call me himself?”
Oh, fuck.
That’s probably what he was calling for.
“Not ... not after the... Talli, it’s going to get bad. Really bad.”
“So people keep telling me.”
Michael ran out carrying a royal blue short dress that clung to me like I’d been melted, poured in, and forgot to say when. Would I ever feel comfortable in that again?
“If you need anything, just... call me, okay? Will you do that?”
“I don’t think that would be...”
“As a friend, Talli,” she cut me off. I smiled wistfully, remembering how much fun we had before all of this mess happened.
“Sure,” I mumbled, wondering if I really would ever call her.
It was doubtful.
“Jase will be there to pick them up for his weekend, though... his next weekend.”
“I’m sorry?” I asked.
“His weekend, the weekend of Emily’s party. I will be there for her birthday... you know, I actually think Chris and his family will be there, too!”
“You’re kidding,” I said with a half-smile.
“No, no kidding. But since Jase will have the kids that Friday, do you want to get together? Watch a movie?”
“Um... we’ll see, okay?” I said, avoiding telling her everything.
Jase wouldn’t have the kids that Friday, see... he apparently either hadn’t read everything over very carefully, or he hadn’t told everyone what was going on. But I wasn’t going to tell her that; I wasn’t going to go into all of my reasons for limiting his visitation, I didn’t even want to think about that bitch and her frumpy housewife comment.
Hell, I wasn’t even a... a wife anymore... or I wouldn’t be... not after...
“Mommy!” Elizabeth ran out, holding up a crimson red sleeveless button-down shirt and carrying a pair of jeans... not just any pair of jeans, Jase’s favorite pair. She was smiling, wiggling her eyebrows up and down, and I had to laugh.
Oh, my.
Frumpy, huh? You think I’m frumpy? Why, because I wear conservative business suits, little to no makeup, and rarely do much of anything to my hair?
Okay, fine. So she had a point, and of course he would go looking elsewhere.
But on that day, the day of Emily’s party, frumpy will be the last fucking word he’ll have to say about me.
“Are you sure about the jeans?” I asked her. “Not the black pants?”
“The jeans, Mommy. You never wear jeans anymore.”
Well, okay. So I’m a frumpy soon to be ex-wife who’s now taking fashion tips from a five year old child.
“Please, Mommy?” she asked, her blue eyes full of hope for the first time in so long.
What the hell. Why not?
JASE
“HERE.”
Kaitlyn was shoving a bowl under my nose, its contents bringing the first smile to my lips in the thirty minutes that I’d been there.
“Mint chocolate chip ice cream,” I said with a smile, accepting the bowl. Kate sat beside me, her own bowl with a different flavor for her. “You don’t like mint chocolate chip ice cream. Is this something Jack left?”
“His name is Jase, and the answer is no. When the news about you and Talli broke, I bought that disgusting crap for you.” She shot a sideways glance at me before reaching out and tousling my hair. “You’re lucky I love you, Warner.”
“I’ve never deserved your love, Kate,” I said softly, stirring the melting contents in my bowl.
“Eat up. I’ve heard it’s the cure for whatever ails you,” she said, ignoring my self-depreciating comment as she picked up the remote.
“Says who?”
“Says some schmuck who used to bring this crap to my room all the time, whenever he was trying to mend his broken heart.”
“Hey, this is not crap, okay?” I said, hastily wiping my eyes once more. “This is... this is the epitome of heaven in a bowl.”
“Oh, that was cheesy,” she teased, still messing with her remote. “So tell me,” she began, finally placing the remote down, “what did take you so long?”
Of course she’d ask a question just as I took a bite of my ice cream. I held up one finger and I swallowed, then turned my hand to flip her off as she laughed at me. “Damn, Kate, give me a minute, would ya?”
“You’re been here long enough to answer the question now.”
“I didn’t want to bother you with it,” I admitted with a shrug. “I figured you were going through enough. Which, by the way, you never came to me with.”
“What, because Jase and I separated?” she asked, raising one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows, her chocolate brown eyes boring in to me.
“Just give me the word; I’ll gladly kick his ass again.”
“After what he did for Elizabeth?” she asked, and I immediately felt the color drain from my face. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry, Jase. I know you were just joking. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”
“At least you remember,” I mumbled, turning back to my ice cream, my eyes resting on the big screen TV. “Hey...”
Kate let out a soft laugh as the opening of Almost Famous filled the screen. “I figured you would need this, too.”
“What about you?” I asked, turning to look at her. “I... fuck, I’m so sorry, I’ve been so wrapped up in everything going on in my world...”
“Hey, I’m good,” she replied with a shrug. “I married a narcissistic bastard who occasionally has a God complex. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy. Just a lousy husband.”
“Why did you split up?” I asked suddenly. She chewed on her bottom lip, seeming to contemplate how to answer. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“He’s... well, we just didn’t work,” she said with a shrug. “I’m set in my ways, he’s set in his.”
“Kate...”
“He’s just very, very career oriented. Not that that is a bad thing, you know.”
“Way to soften the blow there, Evans.”
“And that’s another thing,” she added, licking her spoon. “His ego. We’ve had problems with everything. I don’t want to change my name. Where is the law that says I have to change my name?”
“There’s not,” I answered, not that she listened.
“Kaitlyn Evans is known as a very successful wedding planner. Not Brooks. Evans.”
“Besides, I like calling you Evans,” I added with a grin as she continued.
“And god forbid I talk about my career with him! Apparently being a wedding planner is sooooo insignificant compared to being a doctor.”
“So is being a musician,” I muttered, reminiscing over a past discussion I’d had with Brooks.
“But you remember hearing about Kiefer Sutherland’s wedding? That huge one where he married that attorney?” she asked and I nodded. “The one where the original wedding planner ran off with their money and had done nothing? I fixed that. I walked in there and handled their wedding in three days, Warner. Three days. I have Kiefer and his wife promising me if there’s anything I ever need, all I have to do is call! And you know what Brooks said?”
“Nothing?” I asked, grinning at her.
“Exactly. And excuse the hell out of me for not wanting to be barefoot and pregnant!” she continued. “Did he think I was kidding? Seriously?”
I took another spoonful of ice cream, annoyed at Brooks and amused at Kate as she kept going.
“I know I want children someday, but not...” Her hands were waving, gesturing, as if she were trying to find the words.
“Not on someone else’s terms,” I finished for her.
“Exactly,” she said with a sigh. Her spoon clinked in her bowl as she set it down on the table. “And do you think I’m wrong?”
“No, it really is something that the two of you should agree on,” I replied, remembering how Talia and I had both agreed upon us wanting children, and when. Okay, so Emily was a surprise, but she was such a happy surprise and worth it—so, so worth it.
