Lovely Scars

Published by Evernight Teen ® at Smashwords

www.evernightteen.com

Copyright© 2017 Cassandra Jamison

ISBN: 978-1-77339-274-5

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Brieanna Robertson

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

This goes out to all of those who have ever been broken, whether you wear your scars on the skin or soul. I’ve heard it once said, I’ve never met a strong person with an easy past.

Also a special thanks to my children, Jersie Jean and Sawyer Roc, for letting me experience what is truly worth living, dying, and fighting for.

And my husband, Rocky Jamison, for bringing out the darker writer in me. But also for being the kind of father and husband who is an unceasing reminder that in all great stories, love is always the best part. You, sir, are a man in full.

LOVELY SCARS

Cassandra Jamison

Copyright © 2017

Chapter One

I scowled with frustration at my awful reflection in the mirror. So many people had promised that I would eventually become a morning person after having a baby. All lies. The only difference was that I now had an audience for my drowsy Frankenstein parody each time I rolled out of bed.

I glanced behind me at the fifteen–month–old sporting my underwear as a beret. Who knew a basket of unfolded laundry could be such entertainment? I would have to add that to the summary of her interests and skills the next time somebody from town asked about her. Usually, I just gave them her weight and height percentile, since there wasn’t much more information on her yet. It wasn’t as though I could introduce the child as one who’s following her own path and enjoys truffle hunting. The main topic of conversation had lately been about her age anyhow. Nobody could believe she was already a year. I wondered idly if I’d end up the type of mother who’d try to keep her baby young by referring to her age in months even well into her toddler years. This is my daughter, Henley. She just turned thirty-eight months yesterday, and then wait for the onlookers to figure out the math. It would be better than the math they had no problem solving when I told them that I was only just turning twenty-one.

I guess I didn’t understand what was so young about that. I would be able to get a pilot’s license, my concealed weapons permit, or even foster and adopt a child. But to be raising one right now that I had birthed seemed a phenomenon these people couldn’t comprehend. Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with my age, maybe it was just me and this place. The town of Merino, Colorado was always more like a cozy little village, populated by just a tad over two hundred and eighty charming individuals who all seemed to know more about me than even I did. I’d lived in this town’s hundred and twenty-eight acres ever since I was that little four-year-old girl who’d starred in the iconic super bowl commercial wherein which I delivered the line Cheers! I’m only here for the beers that people still raved about to this day. It was the hit of the late 1990s, so much in fact that I was still frequently stopped on the street and asked to repeat it in that cutsie voice that I’d well grown out of. So long as I stayed around here, I had a feeling that was exactly how I’d always be seen.

I ran the mousse through my hair with one last effort to regulate the massacre of honey blonde curls. Ugh. Stop scrunching your hair before bed! I gritted my teeth as I stared at the tired pale face in my reflection with eyes that seemed more pink lately than green. I now understood the term beauty sleep, and clearly I had been lacking it. Without the energy to blow dry or straighten my hair, scrunching it had become a dangerous guessing game. I never knew what I’d wake up with, and today it seemed the only way to fix the mess was to take another shower. Not happening. Giving up, I decided instead to restrain my wayward curls into a ponytail just as the doorbell rang.

Ack! He’s here already? I kicked out of my cotton pajama shorts, switching them over for a pair of Capri yoga pants from the laundry basket, and then scooped Henley off the floor. I wasn’t sure when that began qualifying as getting dressed, but as long as I had on a bra I figured I was doing all right.

I pushed open the front door and found Everett on the other side, looking all kinds of outdoorsy. Only a few years my senior, the man was always far better put together than I was. Today, he seemed dressed for something that ranged from fishing on a lazy stream to hanging off a cliff face. With his tousled black hair and white wife-beater peeking out from underneath the unbuttoned flannel, I’d say his personal style could best be described as one ready to explore the rugged American landscape. Mine, on the other hand, was more akin to I didn’t expect to have to answer the door.

I tried to hide behind the baby, wishing I’d bothered to put on jeans today. Everett rolled his sleeves up over his forearms, a ghost of a smile on his lips as his eyes lit with humor, as though he was in on some kind of joke I wasn’t privy to.

My favorite color, he finally murmured, and then clutched the purple lace undies that Henley now wore as a necklace. Oh, crap! My cheeks flushed red as I grabbed them out of his hand.

Laundry day, I said by way of explanation.

You need any help?

No, I blurted.

Well, I wasn’t suggesting I fold your underwear.

I’m not talking about my laundry. I stopped and sighed heavily. Look, Everett, we need to talk.

Uh oh. Here it comes.

You know that I appreciate you being here. And we both know how much Henley loves you. But I told you before that you don’t owe me anything.

He rolled his eyes and shoved past me into the house. Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re superwoman. The golden lasso is on the way.

I’m not saying I can do it all alone or that I don’t need any help.

He swung around, and I was momentarily distracted by his intense blue eyes. Against the pitch-black wayward hair, he was a modern-day superman – and no doubt every girl’s kryptonite. I shook my head to gather my wits, once again enforcing my expert I-know-what-I’m-doing-at-this-mom-thing façade.

You and I both know that Henley needs her daddy. I would never deny her, or you, of these visits.

A slight frown marred Everett’s otherwise attractive face. So, what’s the problem then? He reached over, and Henley leapt eagerly into his hands.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to get this out fast. I checked my bank account this morning.

Oh, here we go.

"We’re going to keep going with this until I get through to you."

You know how I feel about the situation. You should only be focusing on school and Henley. I don’t know why you’re trying to balance a job on top of that, or why you needed to move out of your parents’ place.

I’m too old to live at home.

You’re not exactly collecting social security.

You know what I mean. The last thing my parents need is to baby proof their whole damn house now that Henley’s walking. And I make enough with the travel agency to afford a little independence. Why is that so wrong? I work from home anyway. It’s not as though I’ve got a nine-to-five job.

"So then what exactly are the hours you devote to this?"

When I looked back at him, Everett’s mouth was a hard, unemotional line. I knew what he was doing. I hated when he tried to prove me wrong with that impassive tone, as though I was the irrational one. I put my hands on my hips. The hours that I devote to what?

You work more than one job now?

Oh, my jobs are never-ending. But if you want the list… I spend about twenty minutes of my day performing the duties of a dishwasher and laundress. Three hours is what I apply to my cleaning lady and lawn mowing gigs. Two being a chef. Three hours is the amount of school work I have to get done each night during the semester, and another five earning money. On top of all that, being a mother basically goes from the second I open my eyes until the minute I shut them. So, yes, I think I work more than one job. And the Travel Agency clearly is not my most trying.

He blinked at me. For a moment I thought maybe I’d stunned him. Raising a kid is no joke, he finally said, and then he shook his head, exasperated. So then maybe you should be a little more open to my help. Looks like you could use a few more things around here. Like a coffee table, TV stand, and please, God, a new wardrobe.

I crossed my arms over the old Nirvana t-shirt that could use a good ironing. Struggling to maintain a straight face, I glared at him. You know, I’m trying to raise my daughter under the basic cardinal rule that if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

I’m more affiliated with honesty is the best policy. A hint of a smile touched his lips.

Well, from the words of Mary Poppins herself, a spoon full of sugar…

"Listen, Collins. We could go back and forth with the soliloquys all day, but in the end, I think fact-based logic overrides whatever emotion-based quandary you’re dealing with right now. You need money to raise my child. I’ve got money I want to give you."

I gritted my teeth and spoke slowly, the words coming out staccato. I. Don’t. Want. Child. Support.

Then don’t…use it…on…the child! He was clearly mocking me, but his eyes had gotten serious. I’d seen that look before and knew that it was no use arguing. At least not today.

I broke our stare down when I went to my bedroom to retrieve the laundry basket.

Maybe we should just have a garage sale, I said, dumping it out on the couch. We’d probably make a killing with all these baby clothes she’s grown out of.

I thought you’d be saving them for baby number two.

Hardy-har-har.

What, Henley’s really discouraged you from wanting anymore?

Well, I promised my firstborn to a witch and never made good on the deal. I would hate to test fate with another.

He flashed a smile at my sarcasm, which quickly faded to something more serious. Hey, I wanted to talk to you about Thaddeus’s wedding.

Who would have thought that your incorrigible step-brother would be the first of us all to get married? I laughed.

Let’s just hope they don’t break up in the next couple of weeks. He and Kim have been on again-off again for too damn long.

The storybook fairytale, I mumbled, rolling my eyes. Anyway, what about it?

He clenched his jaw, something he always did when uncomfortable, and I could see that his eyes were just as torn. He was usually so lighthearted while holding Henley, but his expression had become stark now, all of his control and good humor evaporated.

I’m going to be bringing a date, he finally murmured.

Whoa, okay. I stopped folding laundry. That was why he looked so troubled?

I didn’t know if you cared, he stammered. But I thought it might be weird if we just showed up—

I held up a hand to stop him. We don’t have to do this. You and I haven’t been together in four months. I think most people bring dates to weddings. It’s no big deal.

It’s not just a date. We’ve been seeing each other for seven weeks.

Oh. A strange sense of grief spiked through my body. He’d been seeing somebody that long and never told me? Everett was a serial monogamous—he’d never dated casually. I had to assume that he was serious about this relationship.

He still had Henley in his arms, and was carefully watching my reaction. I couldn’t believe that the only thing I could think to say was oh.

I want you to meet her, he eventually went on. You know, before the wedding. You and Henley.

You don’t have to, I breathed, finding my voice.

I want to.

I don’t want to come off as one of those jealous exes, I muttered, awash with humiliation. How could I have not seen this coming? Everett was the kind of man’s man people only wrote about in novels. He was about something. The man was only twenty-four and already a licensed contractor who had just successfully flipped his fifth house. He wasn’t the type of guy to screw off and get high on the weekends, or who would make a baby and walk out on her. He was something special, it really was only a matter of time before somebody came along and snatched him up. And why shouldn’t they? It wasn’t as though he was mine anymore. He could have been. We would have been good together, but that was just a vague future that ended long before it had a chance.

Something inside of me began to hurt. I needed to get away from him, but all I could do was stand there feeling like a fool.

Her name is Danika. She wants to meet you. She knows about Henley and you, and about our past, and that we’re still friends. She knows that you’re not about baby mama drama. It’s not as though we’ve ever been married. Hell, how many times did you and I really even sleep together, considering you got pregnant on our first go?

That one stung. I looked up at Everett, who at least had the grace to look a little embarrassed by that remark. The man had known me since second grade, best friends since eighth. In hindsight, dating each other in college was a mistake. I hated that he’d ever seen me naked. I hated even more how wishy-washy and immature I had been with him when it came to sex, or that it had become such a casual thing for him to talk about now. I couldn’t believe I was blushing. Did that mean that he was sleeping with Danika then? Was that it—she was giving him things that I didn’t? No, deep down I knew that wasn’t why we had ended. Going our separate ways was my choice. But it didn’t stop this icky feeling deep in the pit of my stomach. This must have been what it felt like for the guys who put themselves out there and got turned down. No wonder girls left it to the men to do the pursuing. We weren’t built for this kind of rejection. This was why I never wanted to date at all, because I never wanted to feel this. Suddenly, all of the emotions from when we first broke up came sprawling back.

Stop! Stop this now! I screamed inwardly at myself.

Collins… I…well, I’m… He stopped himself with another tightening of his jaw, and I shuddered to think of how damned obvious my feelings must have been to him.

With a shake, I cleared my head. I just wanted him to go. When will you be back with Henley? I hoped he wasn’t planning on staying here today.

I’m not sure. He frowned. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of me.

I wrapped my arms around myself and turned to the front door. Just have her back home by lunch time, I whispered. There are some snacks in the diaper bag to hold her over till then.

I could feel him coming up behind me and turned briefly to face him, but couldn’t look him in the eye.

Okay, I’ll be back at noon, he murmured. His dark blue eyes were bleak as he hoisted Henley up on his hip. I do think you’ll like her, Collins. She’s a lot like you. The kind of girl who wears a jacket in seventy-degree weather. Who looks like she belongs on top of a Christmas tree, but will kick your ass if you mess with her.

I guess now we know his taste in women. If we were so much alike, though, then why would he think it would work with her if it didn’t with me? I didn’t say any of this, though. Instead, I smiled softly. She sounds fabulous. I couldn’t disguise the sarcasm in my voice no matter how hard I tried. See you at noon. I turned on my heel without giving him a second glance and disappeared into my bedroom.

I lay down on top of my comforter only after I heard the front door close and rested my arm over my face. Uninvited tears spilled down my cheek. Why am I crying? I forced myself to sit up fast and shake off this irrational display of emotions. I couldn’t help it, though, the tears continued to spill as I curled myself into a tight ball, making my body as little as I felt. I was grieving the loss of something that had never really been mine at all, just a bunch of foiled promises and ideas, the end of what only had potential to be something.

****

Sorry I’m late. I got a little hung up in my excitement of not yet having to be here, Wally said, walking like a pimp into the gym. He’d been driving the forty miles from Fort Morgan to Sterling every Wednesday to workout with me for as long as I’d been a member. I could already hear the gangsta rap blasting from his headphones and rolled my eyes at the overweight Jewish boy who imagined himself some kind of badass drug lord every time he got his workout on.

He stopped in front of my treadmill and turned down the volume. Uh oh, she’s got her resting gym-face and her hair in a pineapple on top of her head. She means business today.

I grinned at him. Just got a lot on my mind.

He took off his headphones, the dark curls underneath bouncing with freedom. He’d always had that dense hair, a fine representation to the rest of his physique. I swore I could hear the treadmill beside me groan when he climbed onto it.

You going to start that machine up or what? I huffed, altering my brisk walk for a jog.

Just going through my stages of preparation. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression. He sighed loudly. Acceptance.

I snorted at his melodramatics.

No Henley in the childcare room today? he asked, starting up the treadmill in a slow walk.

No, she’s with her daddy. And maybe new girlfriend, too.

Mm, and here it begins.

I glared over my shoulder at him. Nothing’s beginning. It goes without saying that Everett and I would each start dating eventually.

Uh-huh.

I trust Everett. He wouldn’t let our daughter around somebody if she wasn’t a good person.

You afraid he’s going to start his real family soon then? Forget about you guys?

I looked away from him. We were his real family, whether conventional or not. I didn’t want to think about it. Instead, I focused on the TV in front of me. It was another news report about that missing girl from Boulder. She was eight weeks pregnant when she left home that Friday night a few weeks ago and nobody knew where Claire Miller had been since. Probably in a shallow grave by now. The story made me ill. Her face was plastered everywhere. Even in her senior yearbook picture with the cheesy bookshelf background, she looked gorgeous. Strawberry blonde hair and bright brown eyes. I ignored my pang of unwelcome sympathy and glanced back at Wally still going 2MPH beside me.

Come on, man. Knee to chest, knee to chest.

Listen, he said, grunting and wheezing. I know my brilliant sense of humor deserves a sexy body to go with it, but this is torture.

Just imagine every pound that you lose is going to the person you hate.

Ethelia Russo and John Bazzoli.

Huh?

They were homecoming king and queen in my high school.

’nuff said.

Wally panted loudly over the whirring of his treadmill, huffing his way back into the conversation I didn’t realize we were still having. If Everett’s starting up a new relationship, maybe it’s time you put yourself out there, too.

Yeah, yeah, I mumbled. Focus on yourself, buddy.

Lots of eligible bachelors right here in this gym. He nodded directly in front of us where a man early to mid-thirties was weight lifting in front of a mirror. He was wearing sweatpants that hung off his narrow hips and a t-shirt darkened by sweat. Large biceps stretched the sleeves to their limit.

I swallowed hard, praying he wouldn’t look at me. There was no way I could hide the pit-stained, damp patches beneath my arms. Plus, I probably reeked. The plan was to get home and shower before anybody could see me. I didn’t even want to see myself. Ugh, gyms were not the place to play matchmaker. I shook my head at Wally’s incorrigible grin, but it was too late. The boy had already let himself fly off the back of the treadmill with a theatrical house-of-horror scream that rang out well over the gym’s sound system. Way to be subtle.

The man with the weights shot a glance at us through the mirror and suddenly met my eye line. Crap! His curious gaze hit Wally for just an instant before it traveled over me. Then he looked away. There was something about the set of his jaw that suggested disinterest.

The man finds me revolting!

Was I really that far from desirable? I knew I was no longer the girl I had been in high school. Hell, I was barely the girl I had been when I first began college. Over a year after pregnancy and I was still working on dropping my baby weight. I wished I could explain that to him. Maybe it was my face that he found unattractive, always puffy from a year without sleep. It would be better if that was the reason. I didn’t want to think that maybe people could see beyond that and recognized how damaged I actually was. It was probably written all over my face that I had gotten pregnant by my best friend and now had my panties in a wad over the idea of ever having sex again. Maybe it was obvious how scared I constantly felt that I was doing this mom thing wrong, and my fear that I’d be alone the rest of my life. Or perhaps it was that he could actually see how entirely hung up I still was on the father of my child. Yeah, I was quite a catch.

Get off the floor, Wally. He looked, he saw, he wasn’t interested.

What, is the man nuts?

I snorted and pressed the button that brought my jog to a screaming halt. "Too bad you’re not interested in women."

You’d be way out of my league even if I was.

I rolled my eyes.

Hey, I’m the one whose full frontal looks like a mudslide.

When I looked at him, he brought his open hands up to his chest and slid them down his belly with a loud swish sound to demonstrate what gravity had done to him.

I wrinkled my nose and climbed off the treadmill. Thanks for the mental image.

Collins, you’re hot! That guy’s head is too far up his ass to see it. Don’t let him ruin the rest of our workout.

It’s not about that guy. I just…my head’s not in it today.

I knew it was my own damn fault. I had to stop thinking about Everett. Eventually, I would have to accept all of these changes. There was no point in trying to stop it. I had to accept that this twist in the pit of my stomach would be here for a while. Eventually, I hoped I’d at least learn how to handle it better. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to make it all disappear. Everett finding a new woman wasn’t really the worst thing in the world. It wasn’t as though he cheated on me with her, or that Henley was getting some kind of replacement mommy. I needed to get a grip. And Wally was right. Who cared what the random man with the dark hair, and biceps the width of my head, thought of me anyhow? I already had everything I needed. A family who loved me, a beautiful healthy daughter, and my little sister on her way home from college next week. Yeah, something told me I’d be just fine. This summer was going to be a new start for me.

Chapter Two

The drive to the airport was only an hour