Where You Left Me, Volume 4, page 1
Where You Left Me
Vol. 4
A novella
By Dani Bannister
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 by Dani Bannister
a.k.a. Danielle Bannister
All rights reserved.
Published by Dani Bannister
a.k.a. Danielle Bannister
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.
For information about permission, write to:
daniellebannisterbooks@gmail.com
Where You Left Me Vol. 4
Cover Design by Q Designs and Premades
Edited by Lia Fairchild
Contents
Author Note
1. Earl
2. The Hunt
3. Motivation
4. Setup
5. The Introductions
6. The Invitation
7. Beginnings
8. The Call
9. The View
10. Lunch
11. Sparks
12. Shawn
13. The Ultimatum
14. The Waiting Room
15. Sleepover
16. Rock Bottom
17. Florida
18. Truth
19. Where You Left Me
Sneak Peek
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
HUG AN AUTHOR
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR
Author Note
As the title suggests, this is the fourth book in the Where You Left Me series. If you haven’t read Vol. 1-3, you’re going to be very confused, so I’d suggest you read those first. If you have caught up, let’s find out what happens next!
1. Earl
My hands clutched the steering wheel in a death grip. The blood had drained from my fingertips, leaving them white from the strain. In just a few minutes, I’d be talking to Shawn’s father, Earl Maven, looking for any clue of his whereabouts. A part of me hoped that Shawn might be at his father’s house. Not that I would know what to say to him if he were, but it would be a relief to know he wasn’t in a bar or dead on the street somewhere.
I knew my mind was creating all of these worst-case scenarios. In reality, he was likely sitting at a park bench somewhere, contemplating what he had witnessed. Dwayne, down on one knee with me holding his proffered ring... I would have run too. But he had to know I hadn’t told Dwayne yes. That I chose Shawn. If he would have me.
That was the real question. Did he even want me? Was that why he had shown up at the library with a bouquet in his hands, or did he just feel guilty, knowing I was pregnant with his child? Was he going to ask me to stay with him out of some sense of obligation? Or did he want this child? A life together? I needed to know the answer. No matter what it would be.
Killing the engine, I let out a shaky breath and then walked up the sidewalk to knock on a perfect stranger’s door to inquire about his son. At first, there was no answer. The lights were on inside, so I knew someone was home. If his father was anything like me, he was probably at the window, peeking out of the blinds to see who was there. I did my best to not look like a psychopath.
A moment later, the door opened, and a man in his early-to-mid-fifties gave me a once-over.
“You lost? Or are you selling something?” he asked.
“Neither. I’m looking for your son, Shawn. Have you seen him today?”
Earl raised one bushy eyebrow. The lines on his forehead wrinkled with what appeared to be curiosity. “You must be Jasmine. Not his usual type.”
“Have you seen him?” I repeated.
“What’s he done?”
“Nothing. At least, I don’t think he has. I want to find him before he does, though. It’s really important that I speak to him.”
He looked over my shoulder and then opened his door a little wider. “Why don’t you come on in? This feels like it might be a longer conversation.”
Thanking him, I entered his small home. A wash of tan and a lack of personality filled the space. Minimal furniture, chosen for comfort rather than appearance. No artwork on the walls. The epitome of bachelorhood.
“Would you like a cup of coffee? he asked, shuffling into the tiny galley kitchen that connected to the living room. He opened a cupboard door. “I’ve only got instant,” he said, bringing out a jar of Sanka.
“I’m fine. Not to be impolite, but I need to find Shawn.”
“Run off on you, has he?” He closed the cupboard door and came back into the living room, where he sank into his well-worn recliner. “He does that. Always has. If things get too real or, God forbid, require him to deal with his emotions, then off he goes. I sometimes don’t hear from him for months.”
“I’ve noticed.” I sat down on the couch, which was new. Looked like it had never been sat on. Earl, evidently, preferred his recliner.
Beside me, Earl lifted a coffee cup and took a long sip. “So, you two got hitched?” He nodded his head backward. “He sent me a postcard. Got it on my fridge. Never thought that boy would get married. Let alone to someone he just met.”
I flinched. “No. We’re not married. Not legally. It was just to help me save face. My fiancé decided to leave me at the altar for one of my bridesmaids. I, stupidly, opted to ask for a volunteer to get married and come to The Bahamas with me. Your son said yes.”
Earl nodded slowly. “Yep. That sounds like my boy. Acts before he thinks. Always been reckless like that. Though, I thought maybe those years were behind him.”
“We had a misunderstanding. He saw something that wasn’t what he thought it was, and he took off. I tried his house, but he’s not there.” My fingers dug into my palms. “I just want to clear the air. Make sure he knows the full story. Before he does something stupid.”
“Like taking a drink?” Earl asked.
“Like taking a drink.”
Earl put his cup down and stood up. He held up a finger for me to wait. He disappeared into the bedroom a moment before he came back with what appeared to be a photo album.
“Shawn was one of seven. He tell you that?”
“He did. Six sisters.”
Earl chuckled. “Yeah. We had a full house. Lot of hormones. Being the only boy, you would have thought he’d be a little more in touch with his emotions.” Earl shook his head. “Guess he got that from me. He keeps that stuff locked away.” He patted his chest, shaking his head at the photos. “He was always getting in trouble for one thing or another at school. Nothing major, of course. Saying something wise he shouldn’t have to a teacher or putting a bully in his place, that sort of thing. Then, he went off to college. He wanted to be an engineer or something like that. Think he changed majors at least four times. He didn’t know what he wanted. And then, his mom died. His sophomore year. Sudden. Aneurysm.” He crossed his heart. He flipped through a few pages and smiled. “That’s her. That’s my Nora.” Earl turned the album around and pointed to a woman who had the same dark curls as her son.
“She was beautiful,” I whispered.
He spun the album back around to gaze at the photo again. “Yes, she was. What she was doing with a dud like me I’ll never know. But after her death, Shawn’s recklessness became dangerous. Casual drinking at a frat party turned into his way of dealing with her death.” He flipped a few more pages in the album. “And then when we lost Lisa a few months later in that awful car accident...” Earl pinched the bridge of his nose. “He fell into the bottle hard. I wouldn’t hear from him for months, and then I’d get a call to bail him out of jail, or pick him up from a bar after he’d been kicked out.” He shook his head. “He’s not had an easy life. Lots of loss. Not that I’ve been the best role model.” He walked over to his recliner and sat back down. “After Lisa’s passing—” Earl looked at me. “He tell you about losing his sister?”
I nodded. “It was a drunk driver, right?”
Earl nodded solemnly. “After her funeral, I moved out here. Too many memories of them both back home. I thought a change of scenery might help me escape the pain. Now I just sit here, in this chair,” he said, patting the arm gently, “looking at the world outside this window and counting the days when I can be with my girls again.”
“Is that really why Shawn came to Erwin?” I asked. “Because he was worried about you?”
“Is that what he told you?” He chuckled.
“No. He said he needed to get away from city life. Too many people wanting things from him.”
Earl nodded. “Well, that’s certainly true.” He glanced at me. “He tell you what they wanted from him?”
“He did not.”
Earl raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.”
“What did people want from him?”
“That’s not my business to tell ya, I’m afraid. If he didn’t want ya to know, he must have had his reasons.”
At that, I stood up. Frustrated with the knowledge that Shawn had been hiding something from me. “Do you know where he might go?”
Would he, though? If he thought I’d said yes to Dwayne’s proposal. Had I ruined any chance with him? Again?
“I need to find him,” I said, resolved. “Now.”
With that, I turned on my heel and headed for the door. I wouldn’t give up on him. On us. My hand touched my belly. We’ll find you. I’ll make this right. I promise.
2. The Hunt
For hours, I scoured our town. Hunting for people who might have seen him come into their shop or pass by. Anything to give me a clue as to where he might have run off to. That was one of the advantages of small-town life; everyone knew everyone’s business. Which, of course, is a double-edged sword. They might have seen him, but they would also know that I was searching for him. A version of the truth would be on the tip of everyone’s tongue by morning, but I couldn’t seem to make myself care. He needed to know what really happened before he walked out of my life.
Not knowing what else to do, I went back to Shawn’s place, hoping against hope that he’d be there when I returned. But all that greeted me upon my arrival were the remnants of his unpacked boxes.
I was about to try his sister when my cell rang. My heart leaped up into my throat as I scrambled to get my phone. I picked it up before checking who it was.
“Shawn?”
“Um, no. It’s Annabelle. Are you and Shawn talking again? Did you tell him about the baby? What did he say?” she whispered.
“What are you doing up?” I asked, glancing at the clock. “It’s after one in the morning.”
“Tell my sons that.” She yawned. “Newborns feed every few hours. And when one cries that he’s hungry, he wakes the other one. I have you on speaker while each of them are sucking the life out of me. Hence, the whispering. Are you still at the ER? What’s going on with the pregnancy?”
“Oh. Right. Sorry. I forgot to call you about that. False alarm. It was just gas. Hey, random question, but you haven’t seen Shawn today, have you?”
“Honey, I haven’t seen anyone except these needy milk-suckers. Are you looking for him to tell him about the baby?”
I flinched. “And to tell him that he didn’t walk in on Dwayne proposing to me. Well, he did, but he didn’t stick around to hear me tell Dwayne ‘no.’”
“Back the truck up,” Annabelle gasped. “Dwayne proposed? Again? Tell me everything.”
With great hesitation, I recapped the events of the last few hours. The pathetic re-proposal from Dwayne, Shawn getting the wrong idea, the expensive-as-fuck fart, and the conversation I had with his father.
“Okay, so if his dad is right about him, it sounds like he will need a little time to think,” Annabelle said. “Wait for him at his place, and when he comes back, you can talk. No point in running around town and being a sleep-deprived zombie for nothing. I have us both covered on that one,” she said against the sounds of a fussing baby. “Oh, hush, I’m just moving my arm.” The agitation died down, and the sounds of satisfied sucking continued.
“Do you really think he’ll come back?”
“Where else is he going to go? It’s his house. Of course he’ll be back. In the meantime, go get some sleep. Get some for me too.”
As much as I hated to admit it, I was exhausted. And she was right. He’d need to come home eventually. The best plan would be to sit and wait for him.
After we hung up, I sighed and sulked to his room. Pulling back the sheets on my side of the bed, I slid in. The cool cotton did little to calm my fears. I reached my hand across the sheets, yearning to feel him next to me. I settled for hugging his pillow.
In the morning, I woke with a start. There was someone knocking on the door. My phone showed it was 8:05. The bed beside me was still empty. The knocking came again. I ripped the covers off and ran to the door, wondering if it was Shawn. Maybe he’d lost his keys? Or worse, was drunk? None of that would matter if he was home.
I yanked the door open and, my heart sank. It was a delivery man.
“Package for a Miss Fairchild?” He held up a white 8 x 10 envelope.
“Um. Yeah. That’s me.”
“Great. Sign here, please.”
He handed me a digital signing pad on which I scribbled my illegible name. He tucked the device under his arm and handed me the envelope.
For a moment, I stared at the thin white cardboard. Too afraid to open it. It had to be from Shawn. No one else knew I was here other than Annabelle. Shit. And Dwayne. Was he sending me something? Begging my forgiveness? Suing me? I frowned. He wouldn’t waste the money on a delivery service.
After tearing open the pull tab, I pulled out a single sheet of paper in Shawn’s handwriting.
Jasmine,
I sent a copy of this letter to my place and to Dwayne’s. I wasn’t sure where you’d be. I guess your signature will tell me that. Either way, I saw Dwayne’s proposal. You should say yes. If you haven’t already. He clearly still loves you. And while I think he’s a tool, I know he’ll take care of you. And the baby. He’ll be a much better father than I ever could be.
To make things easier for you, I’ve left Erwin. I won’t be back, so you don’t have to worry about bumping into me in the streets. I want you to be happy. And that means I need to disappear.
I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you. I won’t allow myself to do it again, so I’m removing the thorn from your life.
Take care of yourself. And the baby. Please.
-Shawn
“No. No, no, no,” I whispered, reading the note again and again, hoping I’d read something wrong. Fumbling, I ran back into the bedroom to grab my phone. There was only one person I could think to call. His sister Wendy.
“Where would he go?” I shrieked as soon as she answered.
“Whoa, calm down. What’s happening?” Wendy said. Her voice sounded like she’d just woken up. “Is Shawn okay?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know where he is. He sent me a letter saying he was going to disappear from my life. Wendy, where would he go?”
“Slow down. What did the letter say?”
Through tears, I read the letter to her as best as I could. Trying to get out the words I’ve left Erwin proved to be too hard, so all that came out was “I’ve left,” which only made me cry harder.
Wendy sighed. “God damn it, Shawn. He’s running scared. Idiot.”
“I need to find him, Wendy. He needs to know that I don’t want to marry Dwayne. I want him.” I was full-on sobbing at this point, but I didn’t seem to care.
“Let me check in with my sisters. See if anyone has heard from him. It might be weeks before he emerges, though. He did the same thing after Lisa died. Dropped off the face of the earth. And again, before landing in Erwin. He’ll turn up, Jasmine. But he will take a nosedive into his emotions before he comes up for air. You need to be patient with him. He’s had a lot of trauma, a lot of loss. Running away... It’s the way he copes. Well, that or the bottle. And honestly, if disappearing from reality for a few weeks is the worst of it, then it’s worth waiting for. Right?”
“He’s worth waiting for. Yes,” I said.
The line was quiet for a moment as I wiped away my tears. The sound of Wendy’s breathing calmed me down in a way I hadn’t expected.
“My mom used to tell us when we were young, ‘trust in His plan,’” Wendy said after a beat. “She did her best to instill her faith into us.” She let out a small chuckle. “‘Blind faith’ she called it. Trouble is, I can’t quite swallow that pill after all the hurt I’ve seen. But I can tell you this: I know my brother. He’s done some stupid shit in his life, but he always comes around and sees the right path. I sincerely think his path is you. He’s just in the dark right now. You need to trust that he’ll come back to you.”
“But what if he doesn’t?” I whimpered.
“If he didn’t love you, he wouldn’t have bothered with a letter. He would have just run.”
That made no sense to me. If he loved me, he should have talked to me. Fought for me. But he didn’t fight. He walked away. Was I not worth fighting for?
