Dust by Eva Everson (epub e reader .TXT) 📕

But it was a big deal for me. I hated seeing Michelle disappointed and I told him so.

“Life is full of disappointments. She’ll learn that eventually. May as well start now.” He opened the refrigerator door, leaving me with the harsh reality of his words. Yes, life was slap full of disappointments. “I’m starving,” he said, then closed the door without removing a single item and turned to me, his face now full of the tenderness and love Michelle and I both counted on. “I’m sorry, sweetness,” he said, his eyes on mine. “I’m frustrated, too.”

I stepped into his arms, felt the power of them. The surety. He would make everything all right, I knew. He’d make a fun game out of it with our daughter and she would be okay, too. Truth be told, she was more excited about seeing Aunt Velma than she was about seeing Cindie anyway.

I leaned back to look into his eyes. “Are you?”

He kissed me gently, then nibbled on my lower lip. “I had big plans for you and me after I took her to meet her mother.”

“Oh, did you now?”

“Mmm. The neighbors were probably going to have to call the cops.”

I groaned as my legs turned to jelly. “I can probably be persuaded to wait until tomorrow night.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Tomorrow night we’re supposed to have dinner with Trev and Marilyn.”

Ah, yes … our monthly dinner with our friend and attorney and his new bride—a couple I’d come to enjoy getting together with. “All night?” I teased, pushing myself closer to him.

“Woman …”

“From what time to what time?”

“We’re supposed to meet them at seven.”

“Can we be done by seven thirty? In bed by seven-thirty-five?”

Westley laughed as he stepped away from me. “Tell you what let’s do—right now, you fix me a sandwich and some chips, and I’ll go break the news to Michelle.”

“Good,” I said. “Because I believe I hear the theme song to Dallas playing and I think she may be a tad too young for that drama.”

Westley closed the gap between us and whispered, “Tomorrow night …”

I kissed him. “With bells on.”

He wiggled his brow. “Yeah, we can try that.”

He left the room on the melody of my laughter.

“So, what’s next for her?”

Trev and Marilyn Donaldson sat across from us in a booth at an off-road seafood restaurant that had opened only a few weeks previous to rave reviews. From the aromas permeating around us, I could see why. Everything—and they did mean everything—was beer-battered and deep-fried.

Phil Collins’ “In the Air Tonight” pulsed from the sound system and Westley had just finished telling Trev about his meeting with Cindie earlier that morning and of how she had not arrived on time the night before. Trev followed up by asking the question I’d been wondering but dared not ask.

Westley took a long sip of sweet tea before returning the sweating glass to the vinyl red-and-white-checked tablecloth while I glanced over at Marilyn with a slight roll of my eyes. She smiled inconspicuously, then looked at Westley with wide, smoky eyes. “Yes, do tell,” she said.

After a slight shifting, Westley leaned his elbows on the table and clasped his hands. “Well, now,” he began, “there’s the rub. See, in the beginning she couldn’t get enough of telling me about this class and that event. I got every minute detail on her social calendar and then ...” He shook his head. “I dunno. She just stopped talking about it.”

“Maybe she really is serious about school,” Trev noted. Then, when no one said anything, he added, “It could happen.”

“Does she say anything about her grades?” Marilyn asked, ignoring her husband’s wit.

Westley’s fingers shot up, then fell back into the grasp. “That’s another thing. To my knowledge, Cindie has never been an ace student. But she’s actually doing well. I mean ... like the dean’s list well. She told me recently that she’ll graduate after summer term.”

Heat rose within me, but from where, I was unsure. Anger? No. Embarrassment? Perhaps. Was it not enough that Cindie had given birth to Westley’s child—a child I called my own, but nonetheless came from her own womb? Was it not enough that I couldn’t seem to get pregnant and stay pregnant, no matter what the doctors tried or how hard I prayed? Did Cindie now have to find herself on the dean’s list and near to obtaining a degree as well? Something I’d never wanted, really. Especially after meeting Westley. All I’d ever really wanted was him. Yet here I sat with three educated adults—Westley a pharmacist, Trev an attorney, and Marilyn, the principal at Michelle’s elementary school. And me? Well, I’d graduated from high school, hadn’t I? And I worked for Miss Justine, didn’t I? And I raised Michelle ... Michelle, the little girl who had somehow taken the place of—by now—the three babies I’d not been able to carry to term.

Yes, well, that and thirty-five cents could get me a cup of coffee at—

“Ali?”

I jumped at Westley’s voice, my eyes coming to his. “What?” He looked up and I followed his gaze. The waitress had returned with our plates of food; she stood waiting for me to lean back so she could place them on the table. “Oh,” I said as another warm wave bathed me. I offered a smile as she completed her tasks. As she asked if we needed more tea. As Westley said, “Yes, please” and she said she’d be back in a moment.

My husband took my hand in his. “You okay?” he asked, and I nodded.

Now was not the time. Later ... later I would ask: After graduation, what then? Would she return to live here? Would she want Michelle back? Would Westley allow that disruption to our daughter’s life? Or would he think that now, with her degree, Cindie would be fine as a mother as he’d once promised her?

The pain started low, near my uterus. Cramping that, at