Shattered Page 6

  In my dreams, I got the ambushed declaration of love that I wanted. Eric and Matthew alternated in the starring role, and my eyes always shot open before the ending was revealed. I never got to see if I made the right choice, never learned if I got my happy ever after. My subconscious wouldn’t even choose for me.

  My reality was the same type of “rot in hell” moment that Blake experienced times two. The irony was I couldn’t even share it with her.

  Monday through Friday I held myself together pretty well, allowing myself to wallow in self-pity on the weekends. So on this particular Saturday morning, I was doing just that, huddled up in my surrogate bed with the down comforter over my head when the phone rang.

  “No,” I said to no one in particular as I reached only my hand out into the cold February morning. The phone didn’t listen. I grabbed it on the fourth ring, answering without even looking at the caller ID. “What?”

  “Well, good morning to you, too,” Gracie’s chipper voice greeted. She was much too awake for whatever hour it was.

  “Sorry,” I apologized, instantly feeling guilty.

  “So where are you?” she asked.

  I sat up in bed and squeezed my eyes shut, wondering if I was forgetting something. Had we spoken about me going back to Indy this weekend? I didn’t think so. “Bed,” I said finally, almost phrasing it as a question.

  “Well, get your ass up and ready, because I just passed the Warren exit. I have no clue where your bed is right now, so you’ll have to fill me in, but I’ll be there shortly.”

  “You’re coming here?”

  “That’s what I just said.”

  “Am I missing something? Because I swear we never talked about you coming to visit.”

  “We didn’t. But you need me today. So I’m coming. And we are going to go house hunting today. Maybe do a little furniture shopping. Today’s the day you are going to make an offer on a house.”

  “I’m glad you’re convinced.”

  I gave her the directions to the hotel and we hung up. Based on her current location, I had possibly forty minutes before she reached my door. I wanted to at least hop in the shower before she arrived, but something she said had given me pause. I needed her today. What was so special about today? I consulted the calendar function on my phone and quickly learned the answer.

  Tonight was the Red Wings game.

  I must really be slipping if she had remembered the date on the tickets before I did. It seemed like a lifetime ago when I had given Matthew his birthday gift. He had immediately assumed that the two tickets were for us to go, when I had intended for him to take his best friend. Sensing his disappointment when I had explained myself, I had left the door open for the possibility of me going. That door had been slammed shut moments later when Eric had arrived and proposed.

  I assumed that by now Matthew had asked Chris to go with him. At least I hoped he had. I didn’t want him to miss out on a really awesome gift just because I had overstepped my boundaries. He had been right - the tickets should have been impossible to get, and I had paid dearly for them. But the look in his eyes when he saw them was worth every penny.

  Would he think about me today as he drove to Detroit?

  Absentmindedly, I flipped to his name in my contacts and pulled up the entire transcript of text messages we had sent back and forth to each other. I really did need to delete him, just like I should Eric, but they both remained immortalized in my phone. His last message – “Are you okay?” – sat on my screen from weeks ago, awaiting a response. My cursor blinked at me, daring me to answer. My thumb paused over the touch screen, debating. Frustrated, I shook my head and went back to the home screen, leaving him hanging once more. He had probably deleted me long ago. Even if I were to respond, I couldn’t face the humiliation of him asking me who I was.

  Gracie was right. I did need her today.

  I had barely stepped out of the shower when she knocked on my door. I grabbed one of the ridiculously small bath towels and did my best to cover as much of myself with it as possible. After checking through the peephole that it was indeed her, I unlatched the door and pushed it open just enough for her to grab it and hold it ajar.

  “I’m not exactly decent yet,” I explained, rushing away from the door just in case anyone else was in the hall.

  She let herself in and followed me into the room. It wasn’t as claustrophobic as a traditional hotel room, but still had miles to go before it resembled anything I’d like to live in permanently. In theory, it was set up like a studio apartment with a kitchenette and bath, but instead of a couch occupying the bulk of the space, there was a king sized bed. Over to one side, by the window, was a tiny desk with a cheap looking office chair pulled underneath. The world’s smallest loveseat graced the other corner of the room.

  Gracie surveyed her surroundings with a quick shrug. “Well, I guess it’s an improvement over your apartment in Indy.”

  I laughed and smiled a real smile. God love her, she knew just what to say. “I just wish it cost the same to rent as my apartment in Indy. I’m slowly going bankrupt here.”

  “All the more reason we need to find you something today.”

  She strode with purpose to the armoire and flung the doors open. Finding only work clothes inside, she began opening dresser drawer after dresser drawer in search of something that passed muster.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  She glared at me. “This can’t possibly be all of your stuff. All these sweatpants and hoodies. No wonder you’re depressed. These clothes are making me sad, too.”

  “Most of my stuff is at the storage facility. Excuse me if I didn’t bring my party clothes to the hotel. I really don’t have much use for anything like that here.”

  She sighed loudly and finally settled on a pair of jeans and a button down henley, which she flopped down onto the bed. “I guess this will have to do. Shoes?”

  I nodded towards the small closet. “I have those. You know how I am about about tall shoes.”

  “Thank goodness for small favors.”

  She selected a pair of knee high boots. I took her picks with me into the bathroom, deciding it wasn’t worth it to argue. I was definitely feeling more hoodie and sweatpants than anything else, but I doubted she would be seen in public with me in that attire. Lounging around the place and drinking was one story, but she was dressed for going out. She would want me to at least coordinate.

  After allowing me enough time to dress, she knocked on the door to the bathroom and entered even before I responded. I hadn’t locked it, in fact I hadn’t even shut it all the way. I had fully expected her to just walk on through right behind me. Apparently she figured I was recovered enough to be left alone for short periods of time.

  “Sit,” she ordered, motioning to the toilet. I did as instructed and let her do my hair and makeup. Normally the act of getting ready brought me joy, but she could tell that there was little enthusiasm for the task at present. I had to admit it was relaxing to be pampered for a change. She stood over me, a serious expression on her face as she wielded my makeup brushes and flat iron. Once she was satisfied with her masterpiece, she set everything down on the counter and stood back. “Now that looks more like the Lauren I know.”

  I stood and admired her work in the mirror. She had done a pretty good interpretation of my signature look. Wide eyes stared back at me framed in multiple layers of eyeliner and mascara, a stark contrast to my pale skin. My dark brown pixie cut had been tamed to perfection, the longer sections in the front curved along my jawline. I looked human for a change, which was a definite improvement.

  “Thanks,” I said, my eyes welling up with tears.

  “Oh no you don’t. Crying will just wreck everything.”

  “Fine,” I sniffled and grabbed a tissue from the dispenser that was built into the vanity. Crying was all I seemed to do lately. I wondered how many times the housekeeping service had needed to refill the tissues since I moved in. My bet was it was enough to
be a reasonable subject for an office pool: will she need more today?

  “So,” she began, eager to keep moving lest I dissolve into hysterics, “first on the agenda for today is food. Anywhere good to eat around here?”

  I suggested the chain pancake house that was just a mile or so down the road from the hotel. Satisfied with my choice, she grabbed her purse and ushered me out the door. As we walked past the front desk, my eyes locked with the guy that had been on duty the day I had first moved in. He very clearly did a double take; guess I cleaned up okay. Seeing that he was caught, he exchanged a guilty smile and proceeded to ogle Gracie’s backside as she strode past. My friend paid him no attention.

  “I’ll drive,” she volunteered as we exited through the automatic doors.

  “Because you know so much about Fort Wayne?”

  She snorted. “Because this way you have to go where I tell you. You can navigate. But you can’t control me.”

  “Isn’t that the truth.”

  She good naturedly extended her middle finger and I laughed. The sound was foreign to my ears and I enjoyed the way it felt. My spirits lifted, I took the passenger seat of her Ford Taurus without further objection.

  “That guy was so totally checking you out back there,” she said after I had directed her on which way to turn.

  “Whatever. He’s just so used to me looking like a scrub, he probably didn’t recognize me. Plus, he was also looking at you.”

  “Kinky.”

  As we pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, I subconsciously did a sweep for any familiar cars. Finding none, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was a sorry state of affairs that I needed to even have the ritual, but I couldn’t help myself. If Gracie noticed, she said nothing. With the coast clear, I got out of the car and followed her inside.

  The amount of people inside suggested that no one in the immediate area felt like cooking this morning. I couldn’t blame them, but I was annoyed that the majority of them had the option of a kitchen to go home to. A house with family or friends, people that loved them. My alternative consisted of heating up something in the dorm room sized microwave that graced my kitchenette. Alone.

  Gracie strolled up to the front to put our name in for a table, exuding confidence. I flopped down on the plastic covered bench, anything but. The elderly gentleman closest to me scooted over either to allow me more room or to get further away from me – I wasn’t sure.

  “Fifteen minutes,” Gracie announced as she came back. She sat between me and the guy, and he seemed to relax considerably. “That’s not too bad.”

  “No,” I agreed absently, my eyes trained outside to the parking lot. From our seat near the vestibule, I could see most of our surroundings and therefore the cars coming and going.

  “Stop that,” Gracie scolded. “For someone who swears she wants to disappear, you sure are looking like you want to be found.”

  “I’m not hiding,” I responded defensively. That was a lie and we both knew it, but she chose to ignore it.

  “But you’re not calling him, either.”

  I snorted. “He also knows how to use the phone.”

  “You two are ridiculous.”

  She folded her arms over her chest and pouted dramatically.

  “I don’t want to talk about this today. I thought the whole idea of you coming here was to cheer me up, not to reprimand me. Questioning my actions doesn’t help things.”

  “Fine.”

  The guy beside us stood as his name was called, and Gracie moved her purse from the floor to occupy the space he left behind. As a general rule, she didn’t like people she didn’t know invading her personal space. I imagined that looking the way she did, people had likely taken advantage of a crowded space one too many times. Even today, with her shiny black hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, she was by far the most attractive person here.

  We were seated shortly thereafter, and our conversation halted as we tended to the serious task of deciding what we wanted. Once our orders had been placed and the waiter had scooped up our menus, Gracie leaned across the table and placed her hand on mine.

  “It’s just that I’m worried about you, Lauren. And your dad is, too. We’re two hours away and you’re here alone.”

  “I’ll be okay,” I said unconvincingly.

  I wanted to believe that I would be anyway. With my focus lately being solely on myself, I had completely not considered the torment I was putting everyone else through. I was certain that Gracie didn’t want me to rehash things over and over even though she would never tell me that. And my dad – all he had ever wanted to do was to protect me. In my adult life he hadn’t had much of a need to do that; now that he did, I was miles away.

  My dad and I had talked on the phone a couple of times since everything had happened and I had always done my best to sound lighthearted about it. He had obviously seen through my veneer. I doubted it was difficult to tell I was faking; I sounded almost dead even to myself. He pretended not to notice and I pretended that everything was okay. I reminded myself that he hadn’t had to deal with the repercussions of his daughter breaking up with someone before – this was unexplored territory for both of us. Sure, he had moderated arguments between Eric and me before, but angry Lauren was easy to deal with, expected even.

  At times like these, I wished I had my mom. I was positive my dad would feel more comfortable deferring to her, despite the fact that she had never been in my situation. She had found the love of her life and never looked back. But she would have listened to me and offered the sage advice that came with age and experience. She would have held me in her arms and stroked my hair, supporting me without judgment.

  Or at least I hoped she would have.

  I missed angry Lauren. She was so much better than broken Lauren. I hated crying but somehow it had become my new hobby.

  Gracie stared at me over the cup of coffee that she had just been brought, assessing.

  “I will be,” I repeated more forcefully. I took a drink of my own coffee and met her eyes firmly. “I’ve just hit a rough patch, but I’ll get over it. Once my life is organized again, I’ll be better. You’ll see.”

  “Okay.”

  “Everything just changed for me all at once and I didn’t think about how it would affect me. The only thing I have left is my job and the two of you in Indy. I’m alone for the first time since I was sixteen. The person I decided I really wanted rejected me. And I’m homeless-“

  I must have said the last part a little too loudly. I caught the lady at the table beside us staring at me. She averted her eyes and her focus returned to her own companion, though I was pretty sure she would continue eavesdropping.

  “What’s not to be depressed about?” I concluded with a shrug.

  “You pretty much summed it up.”

  “So you said you were going to help fix it. You said we were going to buy a house today. How are we going to accomplish that?”

  Her brown eyes lit up at the challenge. We were both grateful for the subject change. She dug in her purse for something, producing a page ripped out of the local newspaper. Proudly, she smoothed the wrinkled paper out on the table and waited for my reaction. I swallowed down any parallels to Eric’s Christmas present to me along with my coffee.

  “It’s a new subdivision out kind of close to the airport. I pulled it up online. It’s close to your work, but far enough away from – you know.”

  She continued babbling while I studied the page.

  “Nothing you’ve looked at so far has impressed you at all. Everything either needs repairs or upgrades, so why don’t you just get new?”

  “The same reason why I didn’t take George up on the foreclosure idea. I can’t afford to live in the hotel for months while something is built. I need something sooner rather than later.”

  “I get that. So I called the number and they have a couple spec homes that aren’t spoken for.”

  My eyebrow raised. She had my full attention now. Spec homes were a
thing of the past, largely done away with after the housing market slump. Most builders were set on playing it safe now, only constructing a home once someone had signed a contract. There were a handful of builders that had been encouraged enough by the recent upturn to slowly begin building on speculation that someone would buy, especially in newer subdivisions. After all, who wanted to live in an addition where yours was the only home?

  “Brilliant,” I whispered.

  “I know,” she gloated.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it.”

  “You’ve been sort of preoccupied lately.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “I know, right? But anyway, they have a model home open today. So I figured we could check it out and I’m sure if you like what you see that whoever’s there would be happy to show you the real ones.”

  Buoyed by the prospect of something good actually coming my way, I devoured my pancakes. Honestly, a meal out hadn’t tasted this good in a while. Not one to dine somewhere alone, I typically either stopped by one of the many drive-through windows nearby or heated up a frozen meal from my stockpile in the mini fridge back at the hotel. To have a real breakfast with actual company was exciting. Add to that the possibility of hotel living being a thing of the past and I was the happiest I had been, well, since before Christmas.

  Maybe my mom was listening after all.

  Chapter Nine

  True to Gracie’s word, the subdivision in question was close enough to work to be convenient, while just far enough off of the beaten path to be anonymous. Within minutes, I could be in the areas I had grown accustomed to for shopping, but there would be no reason for anyone to just randomly happen by. I was practically sold as soon as we turned into the place.

  The model home was a two story at the entrance, happily decorated with banners announcing that building was taking place now. The signage was a little redundant, what with maybe a total of six homes complete and others in various stages of construction. Next door to the two story was probably one of the homes Gracie had spoken of, a ranch with a for sale sign stuck in the yard.