Title: Something to be thankful for... - (Chapter: Chapter II : Phonecalls)
Genre: Fiction -> Novels -> Romance
Author: ladyhawke13 [ Send a Private Message ]
Copyright: Please do not reproduce with out the express written permission of the author.
Content Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: No Disclaimers necessary - this one's all mine. Rated it R, though this chapter is far from it...future ones probably will be though ;)
Author's Note: Brief update - I'd hoped to have more to post, but this is what I've done at the moment...
Summary: Communication on all fronts....
Total Views: 833 times.
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| Something to be thankful for... by ladyhawke13 | Page 1 |
Dusk settles as I climb wearily from the car, freeing Alaina from her seatbelt before retrieving bags from the trunk. She takes the laden basket of leftovers from my hand and labors with it up the stairs, oblivious to my amused smile, and I flip through my keys to find the one to open the front door. Lainy precedes me through the door, and I flip the hall light on to guide her into the kitchen. The light on the answering machine stutters, begging for attention and I pointedly ignore it, dropping the bags at the base of the stairs and following my daughter's path our of the hall.
"Hey Mama," she calls out, then looks over her shoulder, jumping slightly when she finds me right behind her.
"Yessss?" She giggles at my drawled answer, and moves out of my way as I take over storing the bounty of food Katherine sent home with us, a smile curving my lips as my thoughts linger on the kiss we shared just hours earlier.
"Can I call Becca?" With a laugh I nod, and she skips into the hallway to fetch the phone. Moments later I hear her ask to speak to her friend and I sigh softly, wishing we were still there. I return to the hallway and find Lainy perched on the stairs, phone held to her ear, and quirk an eyebrow at her. With a cheeky smile she grabs her bag and carries it up the stairs, and I roll my eyes slightly. Ignoring the still blinking answering machine I dig my cell from my coat pocket and hit a speeddial, flopping into one of the overstuffed chairs in the living room as it rings.
"Hi there." Her voice is husky, and I hear the rustling of leaves in the background.
"Hi." I close my eyes, dropping my head back with a soft sigh.
"Rather amusing that we have to use cell phones because our daughters are on the phone," she remarks wryly, and I laugh.
"No doubt." I listen to the rhythmic rustling of leaves, following her path to the barn, and smile as a low call from her Jersey cow greets the slide of the barn door. "Hi, Fiona," I answer back, grinning at Katherin's easy laugh. In the darkness I listen to her move around, tending to the animals, knowing the kids are getting ready for school the following day, and after a long span I break the companionable silence. "I miss you," I murmur. The background noises of her movements cease, and my mind paints the image of her leaning against one of the supports for the hayloft, escaped strands of hair falling around her face.
"I miss you, too," she answers quietly. "I nearly asked you not to leave." My heart clenches at the loneliness threading through her voice, and I swallow around the lump in my throat.
"I wouldn't have if I didn't have to go to work tomorrow." We sigh in concert, and I hear the animals rustling in the background. "I'm gonna let you get back to chores and go get Lainy and Becca off the phone. Call after the kids are in bed?" She mm-mmms in a agreement and I straighten. "Okay...talk to you later, then."
Okay, bye Alex."
"Bye, Kat."
I close the phone slowly, and stare at it for a long moment, then tuck it into the pocket of my jeans. Pushing to my feet I head into the hallway, kicking my shoes off next to the door then locking up and fetching my duffel. On socked feet I pad up the hardwood stairway, following the sound of my daughter's voice to her room. Her bag hangs limply from the bedpost, a pile of laundry by the door and the open closet testament that she actually unpacked, and she raises her eyebrows at me, unconsciously mimicing my own questioning expression. "Bedtime," I tell her, and raise my voice slightly, "for you, too, Becca," and grin as I hear the groan through the cordless. I shake my finger at Alaina, and she grins.
"Okay mama, we'll get off the phone," she answers with a humoring tone to her voice. Shaking my head in dismay I take my bag to the laundry room, emptying the dirty clothes into the hamper before making my way to my bedroom. I hear Alaina's "good night" drift down the hall as I tuck extra clothes back into my dresser drawers and change into a pair of well-worn, faded flannel pajama pants and a long sleeve tee-shirt. I frown as I hear the phone ring, and Lainy picks it up before I grab the phone on my nightstand. I head to the bedroom door, my stomach dropping as my daughter meets my eyes in the dimly lit hallway. "She's right here, Daddy," she answers quietly, nodding in answer to something Joe said before walking to my doorway. "Ok...I will...g'night." She hands the phone to me and I cover the mouthpiece as I tug her to me for a hug.
"You sleep well, sweetpea," I murmur, pressing a kiss against the crown of her head as she wraps her arms around my waist tightly.
"I love you, Mama," she whispers, and I squeeze her tight.
I love you too, Lainy." I press my lips together in an understanding smile as her lips try to pull up against the tremor in her chin, and I brush my fingers through her hair and incline my head towards her room. "Go on, I'll come check on you after I get off the phone." She nods and turns, leaving me to draw a steadying breath, before lifting the phone to my ear and closing my bedroom door behind me.
"Hello, Joe."
"Alexandra." The silence is thick and stiff between us, and I wander over to sit on the edge of the bed, absently toying with the twisted silver ring on my thumb. Finally, I hear a heavy exhale. "How did we ever get to this, Ally," he finally asks. I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head against the tug on my heart.
"I don't know, Joe. I really don't know." I let myself down to the surface of the bed, staring up at the ceiling, worrying at his sudden change of approach. When the silence stretches again, brittle and uncomfortable, I press my lips in a tight frown and push myself to my feet, walking over to the window. "What do you want, Joe?"
"I...I don't want anything. I just thought I'd let you know that you'll get the divorce papers this week." I swallow, and resist the urge to respond with emotion.
"Thank you. I'll let my lawyer know." Quiet reigns again, awkward and pregnant with the past, and I fiddle with the blinds on the window, straightening them absently.
"So...how's Katherine?" My hand freezes for a moment and I force myself to breathe.
"She's doing okay. Amy left." I wince, unsure why I mentioned that, and Joe, with knowledge of more than half of my lifetime, seems to read everything unsaid around that statement as if it were written in neon on a billboard.
"You'll be better for her than Amy ever was." My heart stops, and he continues. "Don't waste too much time, there, okay?" I gasp for air and hold on the the windowsill as my legs threaten to give up on their duty to hold me upright. "I, truly, want you to be happy, and I know...I know I can't give you that anymore." His voice is solemn, and quiet, and I hear the tattered remnants of our twenty-some year long friendship struggle for footing in the rubble of our marriage.
"Thank you, Joe," I finally manage to wring a response from my vocal chords, and he sighs softly.
"I'm sorry, Al, I really, truly am," he answers softly, "I...didn't mean to turn into such an asshole. I just..
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