Recalling Reality

Chapter 3

The chime of my cell phone woke me out of my gazing into space. My fingers haven't touched the keyboard on my laptop in over an hour. Yet, I sit at the round, glass table, watching the nothing before me. I pick up my phone and slide the screen up.

MOM: I'm leaving work and then we will head over to Taylor's. Quinn will stop by the house after work and grab your bags.

Messaging back that I am fine with that, I sit the phone back down, hit the power button on the laptop, and retreat to the bedroom. Staying over at Taylor's for the weekend won't be that bad. There is more room there than Mom's condo.

I put all of my items back into my large suitcase, knowing that I need some more clothes if I am going to stay longer. I have been here only two days, and I already need to wash up some items. My laptop I slip into my black computer case with my Kindle and notebook. That will come with me, seeing as I can't go anywhere without it.

I go downstairs and sit at the patio table until the car pulls in. Instead of my mom getting out, I just get in and we head down to the lakefront and down south to the Wisconsin border. Taylor moved down there five years ago when he managed to come across the foreclosure on the lakeside house in a small suburb of Kenosha. It is a nice house, and he deserves to get lucky with his family of five.

"I thought about doing Chinese tonight. We can either order out or go there. It's up to you." She pulls into the driveway and parks beside the two other newer cars.

"Either is fine. I don't mind just staying here." I get out and glance over at the house. There is a crack in the front bay window from the hail storm a few months ago, but that should be getting repaired soon. I stop by the front garage door to admire the pretty flowers Taylor planted along the walkway to spruce up the place. It does give the home a welcoming feeling.

"Shane will be leaving the office about five. I will order, and he will pick it up then."

"What is this Shane guy's deal?" Taking a step into the yard, I bend down and pluck a red flower from the bunch. Red flowers. Death's flowers. I drop it and take a step back as the shattered pieces of my heart decide to break into even smaller pieces.

"Why are you always so negative about everything?" Her voice comes out a little harsher than normal, but I can understand that. Mom is not a negative person. She always prepares for the worst, but hopes for the best. Unlike me. I always let the worst hit, because I know it will. It is the only way my life goes. "He's a good guy, Hannah."

"I just wonder what his deal is. He seemed to make himself cozy at dinner the other night, and I'm still trying to see where he fits in with this." Shaking off the sight of the red flower, I pull back and reclaim my computer bag from the backseat. I can get something done while I sit around. Books don't write themselves, and my nephews can give me some interesting stuff to write about. "You seem to have a strange connection with him."

"If you are implying that I am sleeping with him, you are wrong. And I would appreciate you snapping out of this pissy attitude." She slams the car door in frustration, and I instantly regret what I said. If she only knew what I have had to deal with for the past couple years, maybe she would see why my attitude turned sour. I don't care to be alive, but I am too chicken to do anything about it. "You have been nothing but negative since you've been here."

"And why shouldn't I be? Oh. That's right. I'm not supposed to say anything about how I feel." Rolling my eyes, I draw in some much needed air through my nose and head to the highway. I can always call my grandma to pick me up, and I can stay with her. She usually leaves me alone until I decide I want to talk. "I'll give Gram a call and hang out with her for a little bit."

A large, bright red truck pulls into the driveway next door and the driver lays on the horn. Turning my look over at the driver, I groan upon seeing who it is. Blue-Eyes.

"Hey, I cut out early in hopes to hang out with you for a little bit." He gets all the way out and starts across the trundle of lawn between my brother's and his garages.

"I wouldn't bother, Shane. She's moody." Mom gives him a wave and heads to the house where my sister-in-law is waiting at the door.

"I can handle her." He strides toward me with a purpose, and before I can find an exit, I am wrapped in his arms, being squeezed by the gigantic bear. "If that wasn't hard enough, I can hug you a little harder."

"Why are you hugging me?" My arms are at my sides, and I have no way to fend him off. If I wanted to, that is. Being in his arms, his bulky body pressed to mine, there is something that is happening to me. Deep inside, my heart is starting to wake up from the dormant stage life handed to me.

"My late Gam-Gam once said: when the right person hugs you tight enough, they will be able to weld the broken pieces of your heart back together."

My eyes burn and water. If he only knew why my heart is so broken, he would be running away from me. His arms loosen, but he doesn't let me go. And I don't pull out of them. The hug was something that I must have needed and didn't even know it.

"What happened?" he asks, spreading his hands over my back to hold me closer to him.

"Nothing."

"Something did."

"Nothing did."

"Something did."

"Nothing..." I release the air that I hold in my lungs. "It is nothing."

"It is something if it has you shattered."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Talking about it helps you to heal."

My heart falls apart when he finally lets me go. Once again, I am left all alone in this world of pain I have been living in for the past year.

"What book of yours is closest to what happened?"

"What do you mean?" I pull back the water in my eyes and press my lips tight together. The thick lump in my throat is getting heavier with the salty tears that want to come out. Turning my head, I focus on the line of trees that are on the south side of Taylor's property. A cardinal lands in the tree and stares back at me. Red. Death red.

"Authors usually write about things that happen to them in order to relieve some of the pain. Which of your books is the closest to what happened?" he says again, his hand back down on my shoulder and his finger brushing my cheek. "Come on, Hannah. You are shattered, and I can see it."

"I lost..." My chin is quivering and my heart is falling out of my body. The hot tears are coming too fast, and that lump is gaining more weight. "I lost my baby. Okay?"

"When?"

"Why does it matter?"

"It does." He tips my chin up, and I have to look at him through the blurry glasses of tears. "Come on, Hannah. Let it out."

"I can't."

"Why not?" His voice softens and cradles me inside where my heart used to be.

"Because it's my fault. It's my fault I didn't carry him all the way to term."

I did everything the doctor told me to, and he still didn't come out breathing. There was nothing they could do, they told me. Even though he wasn't from a good relationship, I would have given him a good home and made sure he always knew his mommy loved him.