Suddenly Mine, page 33
Now as she was looking back, Teagan realized she was both excited and not, all at the same time.
How messed up was that?
The good news was there were plenty of things she and Lucas could do to entertain themselves while her parents were away. Like she’d told him earlier that day, they could go to the beach, the park, and generally explore their new town. There were plenty of cousins for him to play with now and she hoped—in time, maybe once school started—he’d make some friends on his own. They’d scout out the local library and see if there were any kids’ programs there, or maybe even some local day camps.
Tons of options.
For Lucas.
It was a lot easier to make friends when you were five, she thought. Making new friends at twenty-seven? Not quite as easy.
Not that she was shying away from it, but…
Yeah, okay. If she had the choice, she’d avoid it altogether. She was the new kid all over again. You’d think she’d be used to it after so many years of constantly starting over, but the thought of trying now was exhausting.
Ironic, considering how physically exhausted she was right now and yet she couldn’t seem to fall asleep.
Kicking off the blankets, Teagan climbed from the bed and went out to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Standing in the dark, she wondered what she could possibly do to fall asleep.
“Try not thinking about sleep,” she murmured. “That should help.”
Easier said than done.
A box sat where she’d plunked it on the kitchen table—books and photo albums. She reached in and pulled out the photo album that was on top and took it back to her room, quietly closing the door behind her.
At her bed, she turned on the small lamp and sat down. In the dark it had been hard to tell which album she had grabbed, but once she realized, her heart squeezed hard in her chest.
Lucas’s baby book.
Half of it was Lucas’s book, anyway. The other half was dedicated to Logan—his father.
With a shaky breath, Teagan leaned back and opened the book to the first page, Logan’s official military portrait. Slowly, she reached out and touched it, as though she could still feel his face. He was so young and so handsome in that picture. She hated how that was the way he would be forever. She’d never get to see him grow old. He wouldn’t ever grow old with her. He’d never had the chance to meet his son or even know of his existence.
It was six years since he’d died and the pain wasn’t nearly as harsh as it had been in the beginning. She still remembered the day her father had come home and broken the news to her. Teagan had never known heartache like that before and she prayed she never would again.
Turning the page, she found several shots of the two of them while they were dating and she couldn’t help but smile. They looked like kids and it felt like a lifetime ago. They’d met just after she’d graduated from college, the summer before she’d left to start her master’s. They hadn’t had much time just to be a couple. She was either away at school or he was deployed. It was kind of a miracle she had even gotten pregnant.
The next several pages held more random shots of the two of them and each one made her smile wider. Pictures of them at a military ball, another at a bonfire, and still another from New Year’s Eve. The final picture she had of them was from the day Logan had deployed for the last time. They were hugging and she remembered how tightly he’d held her as he promised to love her forever.
“When I get home,” he’d said, “we’re going to start planning our future.”
Instead, she’d had to help plan his funeral.
With a shuddery breath, she touched that picture and stared at it for a long time until it began to blur. It wasn’t a surprise that she was crying—she often did when she thought about that day.
Closing the book, she placed it on her nightstand and shut off the light.
Maybe she would sleep, maybe she wouldn’t.
But for right now, she would cry.
* * *
Standing and staring out the front door of his family home, Bobby watched as his parents drove away happily with Ian and Martha Shaughnessy, and another couple who were apparently cousins of Ian’s. A cruise. They were leaving him to go on a cruise! He still couldn’t wrap his head around the whole thing. It wasn’t like his parents didn’t deserve a vacation, of course they did. But did they have to take one now? It had only been five weeks since he’d been shot, for crying out loud! His arm was still in a sling and he couldn’t drive. What was he supposed to do?
He looked down at the sheet of paper in his hand and frowned. His mother had made him a list of all the people who were willing to come and lend a hand if he needed it—everyone from Quinn and Anna to their pastor.
Great.
Muttering a curse, Bobby stepped away from the door and slammed it shut. Two weeks. He had to fend for himself in an empty house for two weeks. Part of him was thankful finally to have some time alone, while the other was still a bit peeved that his parents couldn’t have waited to go on vacation until after he was fully healed.
His thoughts were interrupted by ringing. Dropping his mother’s list on the dining room table, he pulled his phone from his pocket and swiped the screen.
“What?” he snapped.
“Wow, I wonder why Mom and Dad were so anxious to go away!” Anna said with amusement. “Still cheery, I see.”
Yeah, everyone had been on him about his mood, but what did they know? They hadn’t been shot. They weren’t in pain. And they weren’t living their lives in limbo wondering if they were going to have a career to go back to when it was all over.
“Was there a purpose for this call?” he asked tiredly.
“As a matter of fact, there is. I wanted to invite you over for dinner,” Anna replied.
“It’s a bit of a walk.”
She laughed. “I know that, doofus. Obviously, Quinn will come and pick you up.”
“I don’t know…”
“Bobby, I don’t want you spending all your time alone. It will be good for you to get out for a bit.”
“Mom and Dad have been gone all of five minutes, Anna. I haven’t been alone in over a month. If anything, I think I’m due for a little me time.”
She sighed. “I just worry about you.”
Of course she did, and he was being kind of a brat right now. “Look, I appreciate the offer, I do. And maybe sometime during the week I’ll take you up on it. But for the next couple of days, I’m going to enjoy the peace and quiet. It’s nothing personal.”
“This is because Bailey spit up on you yesterday, isn’t it?”
Bobby knew she was trying to lighten the mood and he couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s still hard to believe so much came out of that tiny girl.” He shuddered. “But no. That has nothing to do with it. If you remember correctly, I was a favorite for Kaitlyn to spit up on and Brian used to pee on me every time I changed his diaper.”
Now she was laughing much harder. “That was funny. He didn’t do that for anyone else. Only you.”
“Yeah, I’m lucky,” he deadpanned.
Anna snickered a little more before speaking again. “Okay, I’ll give you a couple of days of peace because I know you’re right—it’s been a while since you’ve had some time to yourself.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you have enough food?”
“Mom shopped enough for them to be gone for a month and that’s on top of the meals she stuck in the freezer. I only have to heat them up.”
“She’s good.”
And she was, Bobby knew it. Had he remembered to tell her how much he appreciated her help? Probably not. He’d been irritable about everything since the shooting. He made a mental note to remember to thank her—and his father—when they got back.
“Well, I’ll let you go enjoy the peace and quiet,” Anna said. “But if you need anything, just call, okay?”
“I will. I promise.”
When he hung up, he was instantly hit with the silence.
Finally.
Only it wasn’t quite as soothing as he thought it would be. For all his complaining about just wanting to be alone, now that he was, it didn’t feel as great as he’d hoped.
“Give it more than a minute, you moron,” he berated himself. Bobby walked into the kitchen, grabbed a bag of chips, and reached into the refrigerator for a can of soda. What he really wanted was a beer, but it was only eleven o’clock in the morning. No matter how crappy he was feeling, there was no need to start drinking this early.
Snacks in hand, he made himself comfortable in the living room before turning on the TV. Daytime television had never been his thing, but thankfully his parents had Netflix. He’d been binge-watching many different things lately and it was time to pick something new. If his father were home, he’d suggest something sci-fi. If it was his mom, she’d want something sweet and romantic.
He rolled his eyes at that one.
Scrolling…scrolling…scrolling…kids’ movies.
For some reason, he stopped and stared at the screen for a minute. Hell, when was the last time he’d watched something simple and silly? Oh, right. About three months ago when he was visiting Anna, and Kaitlin had convinced him to watch Frozen with her.
For the tenth time.
He’d even sung along to all the songs with her.
Of course, it was one thing to sit and watch some cartoon when you were hanging with a bunch of kids, it was another when you were a grown-up home by yourself with no kids of your own.
Still, there was something about a good Disney movie…
Five hours later, he’d watched a short film collection, Finding Dory, and The Incredibles. Standing, he stretched and realized he’d skipped lunch and was starving. The refrigerator and freezer were loaded with casseroles and soups and all kinds of stuff his mother had made, but he really wanted pizza. And not the store-bought kind, but real pizza that was delivered.
There was plenty of time to eat everything that was already here, so what would be the harm in ordering in for one meal?
Guilt only niggled at him for a moment. Twenty minutes later, Bobby had his next round of movies picked out and a cold beer in his hand while he waited for his dinner to be delivered.
And that became the pattern for the next five days.
By the fifth night, not only did he feel like crap from eating nothing but pizza and chips, but the place was a complete mess. Pizza boxes littered the pantry along with empty beer bottles and soda cans. There was a smell in the air and he couldn’t be sure if it was the trash or him.
Closing the pantry door, he realized it was him.
Maybe it was time to take Anna up on her offer to come for dinner.
But first, he had to shower.
Staring at himself in the steamed-up mirror thirty minutes later, he grimaced at the ugly scar on his shoulder. It was healing as it was supposed to, but it certainly wasn’t pretty. He was only allowed to have his arm out of the sling to do his physio exercises, and for a few minutes, he slowly stretched it and tried to work out some of the soreness. He couldn’t wait to be done with wearing the damn thing. Of course, that didn’t mean much of anything—just because the sling came off didn’t mean he was healed and good to go. No, all it meant was a little more mobility. Then serious rehab would start.
Something he was, no doubt, going to hate.
Unfortunately, if he wanted to go back to work, he would need to complete the program and get clearance from a team of doctors. And there was no way he was even going to allow himself to think about the possibility of that not happening. He had to work. Needed to work. More than that, he needed it to be the way it was before. There was no way he would go back if he had to rot behind a desk.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said to his reflection.
Drying off, he walked into his room to get dressed and realized he was out of clean clothes. He cursed and threw on a robe. With no other choice, he straightened up the room, threw all the dirty clothes in his hamper, and slowly dragged it down the hall to the laundry room.
It would easily be two hours before he had anything clean to wear, but hopefully he could still get dressed in time to get a meal at Anna’s. As soon as the laundry was going, he went and found his phone.
Which was dead.
“I can’t seem to catch a break here,” he huffed as he plugged the thing in and looked over at the house phone mounted on the wall. For all the times he mocked his folks for still having a landline, it looked like it was certainly going to come in handy right now.
The cordless phone felt large and awkward in his hand and it made him laugh.
Then he realized he didn’t know Anna’s number. On his cell phone, he simply pulled up her name and hit Send. Now what was he supposed to do?
With a huff of annoyance, he hung the phone back up on the wall. It wouldn’t hurt to wait until he could look up his sister’s number.
So with no clean clothes and no phone, what was he supposed to do? He breathed in deeply—and then he knew.
Clean the damn house.
It wasn’t an easy task to accomplish with one arm, but he did the best he could. He loaded the dishwasher, collected all the trash and put it by the front door—taking it out required more than a bathrobe to cover himself—wiped down the kitchen counter, and even dusted the coffee table where he’d been eating most of his meals. When he was done, it was time to change over the laundry. Stepping back into the living room, he felt good, like he’d accomplished something.
“One more thing,” he murmured. He grabbed a can of air freshener from the kitchen and sprayed the entire area for good measure. After the air cleared a bit, he inhaled deeply and let it out with a smile. “Way better.”
So the house was picked up, his clothes were drying, and all that was left was to call Anna and see if he could join them for dinner.
“Hey!” she said happily when she answered the phone. “How are you doing?”
He smiled. “I’m doing good. Everything’s great. Everything’s fine here.”
“Uh-huh…”
“How about you? How are you doing? How are the kids?”
She hesitated for a second. “We’re all good.”
“And Quinn? Is…is he doing okay? Business doing well?”
“Bobby?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you tired of your own company?” she asked and he could hear the amusement in her voice.
“Yes,” he admitted with a small laugh. “You have no idea.”
“I should make you suffer a little,” she said, sounding firm. “Five days and not one phone call. I was worried sick, but I was trying to be respectful. I figured one of us should be.”
Her guilt trips always worked. “I know, I know. And I’m sorry. I guess…I don’t know. I think I sort of lost track of time. If it makes you feel any better, it’s been a rough day because of it.”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
He explained about the trash, the house, the smell, his phone, the laundry—and she laughed harder and harder by the minute. “Yeah, well…the place is clean, the trash will go out as soon as I have dry clothes, and I’ve learned my lesson. Happy?”
“More than you know.” She paused. “Have you heard from Mom and Dad at all?”
“They’re on a cruise, Anna. I doubt they’re even thinking about home.”
“Hmm…maybe. I just thought they would have called to check in. Plus, I’m dying to hear about all the fun they’re having.”
He made a noncommittal sound.
“Although, I guess we’ll hear all about it at the big Shaughnessy barbecue when they get back,” Anna said.
“What barbecue? When?”
“The Sunday right after they get back. Ian said he wanted everyone to come over since this is the longest he’s ever been away on vacation.” She laughed. “So everyone will be there. You know, like we always do.”
“And that includes me?” he asked with mild disbelief.
“Since when are you not included in family stuff?”
She had a point, and he was smart enough not to argue. “Okay, fine. Big barbecue. Yay, me.” That was a meal with more than himself for company ten days from now, but what about tonight?
“Oh, and Bobby?”
“Hmm?”
“Quinn will pick you up on his way home tonight. We’re having burgers, corn on the cob, and a big salad for dinner. If you’re nice, I’ll make brownies for dessert.”
His mouth was already watering. “You’re a lifesaver, Anna. You know that, right?”
“I do now.”
Chapter 2
“Bobby! We’re heading over to Ian’s! Are you coming?” his mother yelled from the kitchen.
Was he? He still wasn’t sure. Even after two weeks of relative solitude, right now the last thing he wanted to do was socialize. His arm was still in a sling after his doctor’s appointment the previous Friday, and they weren’t impressed with his motor function in his left hand. Bobby had tried to reason that his motor skills would be much better if he was allowed to have his arm out of the sling more.
The doctor disagreed.
He couldn’t close his left hand all the way to a fist, and there was more tingling than actual feeling in his arm.
Neither were good signs.
So while he’d welcomed his parents home the day before with a big smile, and listened to all their stories about what a great time they’d had on the cruise, that was about the extent of his ability to put on a happy face. He was angry, disappointed, and basically didn’t want to talk to anyone.
“Bobby?” she called up again.
“I’ll head over later!” he called back, unwilling even to get up off his bed. Neither parent said anything else. A few minutes later, he heard the front door close and let out a long breath. He knew they were disappointed in him, and to be honest, he was disappointed in himself. Mainly because he wasn’t healing fast enough.
