Don't Look Back: sequel to He Loves Me Not (Lily's Story, Book 2)
Read Don't Look Back: sequel to He Loves Me Not (Lily's Story, Book 2) Online
Authors: Christine Kersey
Don’t Look Back
Lily’s Story, Book 2
Christine Kersey
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by Christine Kersey
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.
Also by Christine Kersey
He Loves Me Not (Lily’s Story, Book 1)
Table of Contents
Chapter One
I stood on the gravel driveway gazing at the house I wanted to live in, the
For Rent
sign in the front window seeming to call to me. Blue shutters framed the windows and colorful pansies lined the walkway leading to the wide front porch. It matched the house I had pictured whenever I had imagined the perfect place to live. The only thing missing was the picket fence.
Excitement pulsed through me as I pictured myself living there with my baby. But the excitement was replaced by worry that the rent would be too high. Though I had eighty-five thousand dollars to draw on, I had no immediate prospects for a job and needed the money to last as long as possible.
But I needed to find a place to settle. I had to try.
Hurrying back to my car, I pulled my new cell phone out of my purse and called the number listed on the For Rent sign. Disappointed to get voice mail, I left a message and put the phone in my pocket.
I walked toward the rear of the house, through a gate, and found a back porch. A door appeared to lead to the kitchen and a window in the top half of the door made it easy to peek inside. The small kitchen held a breakfast nook and looked like it had plenty of cupboards. I walked around the outside of the house but the rest of the windows had curtains and I couldn’t see inside.
Going back to the front porch, I looked through the living room window and saw a small room with hardwood floors and a fireplace. As I walked back toward my car, my cell phone rang, startling me. Afraid the caller might somehow be my husband Trevor, I pulled the phone out of my pocket and looked at the caller ID. It was a local area code.
“Hello?” I said, hopeful it would be the owner of the house.
“Is this the person who called about the house?” the woman asked.
“Yes. Is it still available?”
“Oh yes.”
“That’s great! I’m at the house now. Would it be possible for me to take a look inside?”
The woman spoke to someone in the background, then to me. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Promising to wait, I closed my phone, then realized I’d forgotten to ask about the rent.
I sat on the porch to wait.
Fifteen minutes later I was getting worried that the woman wasn’t going to come. The warmth of the spring day was beginning to get to me and I wondered how much longer I should wait.
I glanced at the clock on my cell phone, then heard a car approaching. Looking toward the road, I was relieved to see a car turning into the gravel drive, then pull to a stop. I watched as an older woman climbed out of the car and made her way toward me.
Standing as the woman approached, I smiled.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” the woman said, then glanced around. “Is it just you, dear?”
I smiled, “Yep, just me.”
“Oh, I see.”
“I’d really like to see the inside of the house, if that’s okay,” I said, concerned now that the woman wouldn’t be willing to rent the house to me.
The woman suddenly smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Mary.”
I shook Mary’s hand, my fears easing.
“Kate. Kate Jamison.” It felt strange to introduce myself with that name, but I knew I would need to get used to it since I had decided to use that name instead of my real name, Lily, to make it harder for Trevor to find me.
She pointed to my car. “I see you’re from Nevada. I lived there for a while myself.”
“Oh. How long have you lived in California?”
“About thirty years, I guess.” Mary paused. “How old are you, dear?”
“I’ll be twenty-one next month.”
“And your parents don’t mind you moving all the way here by yourself?”
I bit my lip, startled by the question. “I don’t know how they would feel. They’re both . . . dead.” I swallowed hard to keep the tears from starting.
Mary placed her hand on my arm. “I’m so sorry to hear that. How sad for you.”
Nodding, I tried to smile.
“Well, let’s take a look inside, shall we?” Mary pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked the door, then stepped back to allow me to enter first.
The interior was stuffy from being closed up on a warm day, but I still liked the feel of the place. It was a small house - more like a two-story cottage - but it was clean. Walking around the empty living room, I noticed it could use a coat of paint, but it was big enough for me. Mary must have thought it need to be painted as well, because she said I could paint it if I’d like.
There was a combination half-bath/laundry room off the hall that led to the kitchen. What a luxury that would be, I thought, to have my own laundry room.
“The washer and dryer are older, but they work,” Mary said.
We moved into the U-shaped kitchen. It was medium-size and looked like it had plenty of storage and counter space. Even better, the appliances were all there. Adjacent to the kitchen was a small dining room.
“This house has been here for a long time,” Mary said as I followed her from room to room. “My husband and I bought it and lived here when we first moved to California. We quickly outgrew it of course. But we decided to hang on to it.”
“How many bedrooms are there?” I asked as we ascended the narrow staircase.
“Just the two.”
At the top of the stairs I turned right, which was the only way to go. I walked down the hallway and turned left, into the larger of the two bedrooms. Like the rest of the house it had hardwood floors. There were two windows; one each on two separate walls.
“Lots of natural light,” Mary pointed out.
I nodded as I walked out of the bedroom and peeked into the small bathroom situated next to the master bedroom. Then I stepped across the hall into the second bedroom and could immediately picture a crib along one wall and a dresser and changing table against the other.
“This would be perfect for the baby,” I murmured.
“Baby? What baby?” Mary asked.
Alarmed that I had spoken out loud, I wasn’t sure what to say.
“Are you pregnant, dear?” Mary asked, glancing at my left ring finger.
Grateful I had decided to leave my wedding ring on, I nodded.
“Will the baby’s father be living here too?”
Panicked that if I gave out too much information Trevor would somehow find me, I said, “No. He’s no longer . . . around.”
“What do you mean? Is he . . . dead?”
Somehow, at that moment, it seemed easier to let the woman believe I was a widow. I nodded.
“You poor thing. You’ve certainly had your share of tragedy, now haven’t you?”
Thinking about the last year and the loss of my father, and my bad marriage to Trevor and how he had treated me, lied to me and about me, I couldn’t hold back the tears. It was like a damn bursting and I pressed my hands to my eyes to try to stop the flow.
Suddenly I felt Mary, the woman I had barely met, wrap her arms around me. The empathy I felt from her made me sob even harder. After a few minutes I was able to get myself under control. Wiping the moisture from my face, I straightened and faced Mary. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose control like that.”
“That’s okay, dear. Sometimes we need to have a good cry.”
I nodded as she ushered me back down the stairs and onto the front porch.
“Thank you for showing me the house,” I said, feeling calmer.
“Well, do you like it?”
“Very much, but I’m afraid I probably can’t afford it.”
“How do you know that when I haven’t even told you how much the rent is?”
“Well, I can only imagine how much it would be. And I just don’t think it would fit my budget.” I smiled again, trying to hide my disappointment. “But thank you for coming all the way out here and showing it to me.”
“Young lady, I do believe we can work something out.” Mary smiled with kindness. “I’d like to see you live here. I think you would take good care of this old place.” She paused. “Tell me how much you have budgeted for rent.”
I told her the most I felt comfortable paying.
“Well that seems fair to me. And the peace of mind I would have in knowing my property is in good hands has value too.”
“Really? Are you sure?” I could hardly believe my good fortune.
“Look. This place is paid for. And the last few tenants didn’t love the place like I know you will.”
“Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me.” I gently stroked my flat stomach. “To both of us.”
Mary arranged to meet me back at the house the next morning so I could sign the rental agreement and pay the first month’s rent along with a security deposit.
As I drove back to the motel, I paid careful attention to where I was so I could find my way back the next day.
Chapter Two
As I lay in bed that night, I wondered what Trevor was doing at that very moment. Was he thinking about me? Was he plotting how to find me? Was he still in jail or had his friend Bronson bailed him out? How had he reacted when he’d discovered I’d taken back the money he’d stolen from me? What was he telling his parents about his new wife and why I had left? Was he still trying to convince them it was me who had a drinking problem and not him? Perhaps he had told them I had gone on a binge and left in a drunken stupor and he didn’t know where I was or when I’d be back.