Never Doubt Me: Judge Me Not #2(75)

Chase sighs, lowers his hand from my chin. “I don’t want to fight anymore, Kay. I’m sorry I mocked our engagement that way. It was shitty. But you know I love you, right? And, if you’ll still have me, I still want us to get married.”

“We could get married in Vegas,” I say slyly.

“Kay…” Chase sighs. “I have to do this alone. You can’t come to Vegas, not under these circumstances.”

There’s hesitation in his voice now, hesitation that wasn’t there when we were arguing upstairs. Maybe Chase is second-guessing his decision to leave me behind. Damn, he knows we’re better together than we are apart. And he can keep me safe in Vegas, just like I’ll keep him grounded.

But before I can say any of this, Chase mutters, “I better go.”

There’s a short good-bye kiss, a long hug, and then he’s gone.

I can’t bring myself to watch him drive away, though. It hurts too much.

After he’s gone, I walk around downstairs, aimlessly, from room to room. But the emptiness of the house without Chase in it is too much to handle. I head up to the bedroom, where everything still smells like my guy—fresh, soapy, male.

There’s an indentation on the bed where the suitcase was. I erase the reminder that Chase is gone by reaching down and smoothing out the covers. Suddenly, I feel exhausted. I lie down on the bed, and when I press my nose to Chase’s pillow, I whisper his name.

I roll to my stomach and look up at the wall. Above me hangs the oil pastel of the Eiffel Tower, the sketch Chase drew for me not so very long ago. The drawing is beautiful, and I can’t help but smile when I recall the many times Chase and I have talked, laughed, and loved beneath this little piece of Paris.

Paris…

I’m reminded of the evening Chase brought Paris to me, the night of our rooftop picnic at sunset. Everything was so perfect. We feasted on brie spread over pieces of baguette; we drank pink-tinged Kir that matched the sunset that evening. But, best of all, Chase and I made love for the first time that night.

Chase gave me a memory, a beautiful memory, to hold close to my heart. I knew even then that that memory would soothe me in troubled times such as these.

And it does, that memory soothes me now.

My head starts to clear, and get a hold of my lingering wayward emotions. Time to quit lying around, time to quit moping—it’s time to take action.

But I’m not exactly sure what I should do.

Rising up to my knees, I glance around.

My cell is on the nightstand. Usually I handle things by myself, or with Chase, but maybe if I talk with someone else, I’ll find the direction I seek.

Heck, it’s worth a try.

My first impulse is to call Father Maridale, since he’s generally a help when I feel uncertain. But I hesitate. Tonight, I feel like speaking with a woman might be more helpful to me.

Decided, and determined, I reach out and grab my cell from the nightstand. But then I just stare blankly at it. Who can I call—Missy? No, she’s dealing with her own things. Sadly, I don’t really have any other female friends.

To be honest, though, I know who I’d like to speak with. But I am hesitant to call her.

“Oh, what the hell,” I say out loud, resolving to do the one thing I never would have imagined myself doing even just a month ago.

I call my mother.

In some inexplicable, weird way it feels right, like my mother and I have progressed to this point, and it’s my turn to reach out. Like Father Maridale counseled, I am giving her an opportunity to be here for me.

She’s initiated all contact up to this point; she always calls me. She’s been great so far too, keeping up with me, warning me about Doug. But this will mark the first time I’ve taken it upon myself to get in touch with her.

I breathe in deeply. Let’s see how this goes…

To my delight, my mom sounds genuinely pleased to hear from me. That kind of touches me deep inside. This is the kind of connection I’ve longed for ever since Mom turned away. Before then, even. I always wanted a real relationship with my mother. After all, she is my flesh and blood. There’s a bond there that transcends hurt feelings and past wrongs, no matter how deep they run.

We talk, just small talk. I keep the conversation light, updating her on what we’ve been doing, like the fair Chase and I took Will and Jared to, our road trip to Pittsburgh, movies we’ve seen, that sort of thing.

At one point, Mom asks me how work is going, and I reply, “Actually, I’m pretty much done with the secretary gig. That was just for the summer.”

“School doesn’t start till September, though,” she remarks.

“That’s true,” I reply, “but the regular secretary, Connie, returns on Monday from her trip. She and her husband were on a cruise.”

“Oh, so you have the next three weeks off?”

“Yeah,” I confirm. “Father Maridale told me I can still come in and help Connie if I get bored, but there’s really no need. I’m sure I’ll find things to do around here.”

There’s a smile in Mom’s voice as she states, “Look on the bright side, honey. Think of how much time you and Chase can spend together these next few weeks. You have the rest of August to do things together before you go back to teaching. These dog days of summer are so nice for young couples, lots of end-of-summer events and activities to enjoy.”