The door opened to reveal the smile of a vivacious looking woman. She stood in the frame, looking at the young woman before her. Her mouth fell in surprise, her eyes glued to the silent person. "Oh my god…" She embraced the one she mothered and let out a small cry before releasing her. "Oh, sweetie."
"Hi… Mom." Those were the only words she could form before her eyes welled with tears and resembled that of her mother. She saw her father approaching them and his long arms quickly embraced her. The three stood speechless for a moment unsure of what to say until Jett poke his head in and waved the small hand. "Hi!" Kayla's mother broke out into a large grin, her eyes widening. She squealed as she made her way to her granddaughter and Kayla stepped out of the frame and into the house.
She took Holly from Jett and began to let her tears roam her cheek as she looked on at the child. She looked hopefully at Jett and his eyes bulged and he vigorously shook his head. She turned back to her daughter and directed the hopeful gaze towards Kayla and she nodded. A squeal was heard from her again and they gave amused chuckles. Her mother kept busy with amusing herself with Holly and Mr. West spoke up. "Well, uh, I'm glad you came. J.B. and Riley are already here." Here eyes lit up at the word, much like the light that shone when she'd seen Jett and her parents. The five of them were led into the living room where an approaching Riley and J.B. stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of her. The two girls screamed and ran towards one another, hugging and parting, Kayla's eyes locked on Riley's stomach and she grinned. They squealed again and it was as if a year hadn't passed, but they were still at the wedding, if not graduation and all was well again.
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His finger traced the rim of the coffee mug as he looked at the twenty-four-year-old across from him. "Riley and the Wests are so happy to see her that they're not questioning it."
"I'm really happy she's here and I think it's great to see her after such a long time, but it doesn't make sense."
"I know what you mean. For her to just show up after such a long time without any communication at all just bothers me."
"Well, did she tell you why she's here?"
"She said that Jeffrey's on a business trip and she came out here on a little vacation."
"It's believable."
"Yeah, not tangible though. You were the last person she spoke to, J.B., what'd you two talk about before she stopped writing?"
"The usual. We spoke about work, the fact that she was pregnant, and how everyone was doing…but I remember in one letter, I don't think it was her last, but she had something to tell me."
"Did you find out what it was?"
J.B. sighed, "Nope. She'd just stopped writing and the only time saw her after that was on TV with Mr. Prestigious Lawyer of Filthy Rich and Guilty Celebrities."
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He was staring at the ceiling of his bedroom as he lay on the posh steady silk covers of the bed. He remembered her as she walked down the aisle in the crystal beaded white dress, its long train flowing behind her. He never forgot how he wished she was gliding with her father to have arm in arm laced with his. She looked excruciatingly happy. Her features shone when Jeffery turned to meet her.
He didn't understand the attraction then and he never understood it while they dated. Jeffrey seemed like he hadn't cared for her at all, but needed a notch on his bedpost. A notch that he could only get from Kayla once a band was on her finger. He'd shrugged the feelings off, but regretted doing it when he lost contact with her, and he still regretted ignoring the signs of what he thought was a failing marriage. Thoughts had occurred to him every so often of acting on the marriage's weaknesses and it would hopefully have him and Kayla engage in the relationship he'd always wanted with her and could never have.
His head turned to the side and spotted the single white aged petal of a lilac that stood in the thin vase on the nightstand. His face was somber and he broke out into a small smile when he remembered how much of a fuss the press made about that flower. He would stand at the podium, golden statue in his hand and always thank the one he called his "little lilac". The next morning a picture a photographer had taken of him at the podium, with some sort of headline quote mentioning the lilac in Jett's speech had been plastered on the cover of the "Inquirer". Inside somewhere would be images of various women that they had found a way to link him to. Movie stars, or other types of celebrities that would bring fans and reporters to a frenzy and him to tears from laughing.
His attention turned back up to the ceiling but his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a shrill cry. He groaned and headed out the door and down the hall towards the room that he'd insisted Kayla place Holly in so that she would get a break from having to put up moments like this. The door creaked under the cry as he pushed it open. Noise enveloped his ears and he took the screaming child from her barred bed he had borrowed from an elder neighbor.
"Okay, Holly, work with me here." He held her up by her underarms and jotted her gently up and down and she began to cry louder. She placed her horizontally in his arms and held her neck up with his arm. He rocked her gently and grinned at her, remembering how baby's mimic sometimes. When that failed, he hushed her gently and whispered to her. She quieted only a little and he rose his voice over her cries, singing a lullaby he remembered from his mother, at times when he was younger.
"Breath of heaven…" As he quietly sang the song he looked at the child when she began to soften her cries. For a moment he stopped trying to keep his voice low to prevent humiliation and noted how she reminded him of her mother. Her light brown hair curling slightly as they slid back across her tan skin. She resembled only peace, her tiny hand furling within his. Her lips touched with fine pink as they parted slightly. Only for a moment, he thought of Holly as his.
Kayla stepped groggily down the hall and stopped at the doorframe ready to hold her daughter when she spotted him rocking her, as she grew quiet, to a complete mummer and gurgle, signifying her contact with sleep. She stood by the door for a few moments smiling gingerly at the sight before she slipped out of the doorframe and tiptoed back down the hall, slipping into her room.
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She had been here for almost a week and she had been welcomed warmly by the entire town, which seemed to have missed her, as much as she did them. Holly had become Wilsted's very own, as they all found Holly in their arms at some time or another, Mrs. West, the most. If she hadn't known better, she would've thought that Jett had fallen in love with Holly. He played with her, cuddled her, and fed her whenever he could. But as good as things seemed she couldn't shrug off the fact that she knew he had a growing suspicion. He had stopped asking 'why' and hadn't bothered since the day of the lunch. She wasn't blind, he was biting his tongue for now, but she knew it would come out and she would be forced to tell him. A creak sounded from the faucet as she turned it, stopping the flow of clear moisture. Her feet hit the porcelain floor and she reached for the towel at the side, lying on the rack. She heard the faint slam of the door and shuffling below. Jett had just arrived with Holly from their rendezvous through the park. Much more to Jett's benefit than Holly, who was happy just standing up without her head tipping her over.
She walked in her room, closing the door behind her. She placed on the clothes that sat on the chair by the wall, wincing every so often. With the clasp of her bra secure, she turned to the blaring radio and reached for the knob to lower the sound. She turned back to reach for the shirt; the only item left on the chair and her eyes bulged, her hand clutching the material. He stood staring at her, swallowing hard. She loosened her grip on the shirt and quickly pulled it over her head and her arms through the sides. It was her turn to swallow hard and she turned away from him knowing what he saw. He continued to stand at the door, speechless and finally turned it closed. (Oh like you didn't see that coming!)
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She was asleep now and made the soft noises that merged with the silence. Kayla closed the door and left the elegantly colored surface of the room. She walked the room she inhabited for now and saw him sitting in the darkness of the unlit room. With the light streaming from the hall, she saw his head buried in his hands, his body resting on the edge of the bed. He sensed her there, silently watching him and looked up to meet her eyes. He stood and approached her, only stopping when they were inches away from one another. His face was somber and his eyes pierced her and again she looked away from him. His voice cut through the silence, almost startling her at the unfamiliar sounds it made. It was gruff and raspy as he said the one word that developed into an entire question. "Why?" She walked past him with her back turned to him as she undid the fold of the comforters on the bed. "Why would you let him do that to you?" She was silent and they still had no eye contact. Jett hadn't moved from the spot where he stood until now and sat back on the edge of the bed.
He smiled bitterly to himself. "I remember every detail of your wedding. The dress you wore the smile that was plastered across your face. You looked amazing in that dress. Studded with the crystal beads along the hems and the flowers that rested, entangled in your hair. I hadn't like him much, you know that, but I was so happy for you Kayla. I never saw you again after that but you were always on television, standing side to side, hand in hand with Jeff, looking together…so perfect. He stood at the podium, speaking on his client's behalf, or talking about your home life when a reporter would ask. It was simple perfection. Now every time I look at you, all I'll be able to see are the bruises on your back. Enveloping you with blue and black, no sign of your tan skin." He stopped talking and there was silence again growing increasingly loud. The mute of the room grew so uncomfortable that a shriek seemed to form in their ears, but he continued to wait, to sit in the uninterrupted silence.
"That first year, he had yet to change. He was still the charming man I'd found myself falling in love with. It resembled everything I let the press believe later on. They had earned a growing interest in me after one of my paintings was auctioned off for an obscene amount of money. I relished the thought of earning profit from something I enjoyed doing so much. Then one night, we sat together on the couch in the living room paying only slight attention to the television. He snapped his head away from me and eyed the television when he heard my voice coming over the speakers of the TV. We had our first fight that night as he explained to me how he felt he had simply become the 'Artist's Husband'. We had similar fights like that for the next month or so. Things so trivial had become simply grown into incredulously large fights. I'll never forget one night when I he had come home late and I was waiting for him with this dinner I'd prepared, half out of guilt for how terrible I felt. He came staggering in and I walked up to him but he only pushed me away. I didn't understand it just then until I smelt the odor alcohol on him. He started talking about how he was just sick of everything and how he'd just had about enough. Things were said that I suppose shouldn't have been said and he began to walk up the steps, but I stopped him and he turned to me, hitting me hard across the face and gripping my wrists. Jeff had never touched me like that, even in times of anger. He knelt down to me looking sincere for only a second until I felt his lips on mine and smelt the slight scent of a woman's perfume on him. I tried to push him off of me but he only went on until I woke up the next morning on the staircase, recalling the night before. I never once realized that things could possibly get that bad and my heart nearly broke when I found that I was pregnant and realized Holly was conceived that night…on that night of pain." She stopped, drifted from her words as she stared out into space and realized that Jett had suddenly moved himself close to her. Her voice began choking up and she stopped speaking, trying to collect herself. She laughed bitterly for a minute. "Things just got worse and he learned how to isolate me, and I grew despondent and went along with it. I don't know why I let it go on, but it simply became routine after a while and he even began being conscientious about where he hit me."
"I finally left when he'd gone up the stairs to Holly's room almost a week ago. He almost slumped against the wall, being as drunk as he was and I knew that I had to leave that night. I had to leave Jett. I couldn't let him hurt her, too." Her voice went down to what was almost a whisper and she retreated into herself. He ignored the questions racing through his mind and touched her arm, where she jerked away from him before he pulled her to him. "I won't let him touch you, K. I promise." (Okay, so it got cheesy. I'm not friggin' or Keats or Shakespeare okay?)
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More to come and hopefully I'll have something fit for Lifetime.
