Expect Me (Rivers Edge Book 3) (19 page)

“Come on, Joss. Why don’t you go have a seat with Mom while I grab some guys to take the gifts up to a spare room,” Travis says.

An hour later, we’re barely inside the front door of the apartment when Travis stops, still holding the door open. “So, it’s early enough that I think I can get a bit more done on the house. I left it in quite a mess with a few started projects so I’d like to head back out there and work a little more.”

“Okay,” I mumble as I get a glass of water from the kitchen, keeping my back to the man talking.

“I’ll be home later on,” he adds, still standing at the open door.

“When can I expect you back?” I ask out of habit, but know that the answer is going to crush me.

“I don’t know. See you later,” he says and quickly turns around. But this time, he doesn’t even give me a kiss before he runs out the door.

He’s returning to his mistress.  A twenty-five hundred square foot mistress who consumes his thoughts and monopolizes his time. Something that I can’t even compete with anymore.

And for the first time, I wonder if I even want to try.

*****

I’m in a funk the next day. It’s a Monday and I have a doctor’s appointment today. Dr. Freeman was gone last week so my appointment from Friday was bumped to today. I’ve also been going every two weeks for the past couple of weeks.

My blood pressure is still teetering on borderline problematic, so Dr. Freeman wants to monitor me closely over the next several weeks.

I didn’t see Travis last night like he said I would, though I didn’t honestly think I would anyway. I stumbled on his dirty shorts and t-shirt this morning on the bathroom floor so I know he came home at some point. Since I didn’t get to see him, I sent him a text early this morning reminding him of today’s appointment. I have more conversations with his cell phone than I do with him in person anymore.

It doesn’t bother me that I’m sitting here in the small exam room waiting on the doctor by myself. Travis has been late to every appointment we’ve had over the last two months. I guess I should be thankful that he shows up at all, right?

Dr. Freeman comes in but her normally friendly demeanor is void today. “Good afternoon, Josselyn. I’m going to get right to it today,” she says as she takes a seat on the stool in front of me. “Your blood pressure concerns me greatly. It’s up to 140/90 and not going down. So, I’m diagnosing you with preeclampsia which is a term for pregnancy related high blood pressure. It actually occurs in five to ten percent of all pregnancies so it’s fairly common. However, still very serious. You also have a little sugar in your urine sample this week,” Dr. Freeman says.

My heart beats double time as I listen to Dr. Freeman go over the plan of attack. “With mild preeclampsia, our goal is to lower your blood pressure. So, we’re going to try to control it with diet and exercise first, and if necessary, medication. Right now, I’m going to put you on a low sodium diet and want you to get as much exercise as you can. Walking will help - around the block, through the park, anything. Just walk. Push the fluids and water as much as you can too,” she adds.

After we go over the warning signs to watch for, Dr. Freeman sends me on my way with another appointment in two weeks. I’m scared as I leave the office. My pregnancy has been almost text book for the first two-thirds, but now things are different. It’s nerve-racking. Terrifying.

I head home in a daze, not really sure how I drove the entire way. I walk into the apartment but the empty place feels like it’s closing in on me. I grab my keys again and decide to head for a walk. Dr. Freeman said that will help, so walking it is.

I make it two blocks from the apartment and am approaching the park when I see a familiar set of faces. Avery and Brooklyn are walking towards the park as well coming at me from the other side.

“Hey,” she says when she sees me and we’re close enough to talk.

“Hi, guys. How are you, Brooklyn?” I ask as we all walk into the entrance of the park together.

“Good! I’m going to swing,” she says before taking off towards the nearest set of swings.

“How are you feeling?” I ask Avery as we find a spot in the shade to watch Brooklyn swing.

“Good. Only nauseous a few times, but no vomiting which is a huge relief,” she tells me.

“You were pretty sick with Brooklyn, right?”

“God, yes. I threw up for months,” she says with a laugh. “And how about you? Didn’t you have a doctor’s appointment today?”

“I did,” I reply and look down at the ground. “Actually, she diagnosed me with preeclampsia.”

“Really? How bad is it?” Avery asks, concern etched all over her beautiful face.

“It’s mild right now, but we’re going to monitor it. She wants me to eat a low sodium diet and get exercise which is why you found me out walking this evening.”

“Well, anytime you want to walk, just call me. Maddox is working tonight but if he’s off work, he’d be happy to keep Brooklyn home with him,” she says.

“Thank you for the offer. I might just take you up on that.”

“Where’s my brother? Wait, let me guess…working on the house?”

“I guess,” I whisper.

“What does he say about this?”

“He doesn’t know,” I tell her and stare at the stick on the ground out in front of me. It’s suddenly a very interesting stick.

“What do you mean, he doesn’t know?”

“He didn’t show up for the appointment today,” I say, hurt uncontrollably filling my gut once again.

“What? I’m going to kill him,” she says with fierceness and fire filled eyes.

“It’s okay, Avery. He’s so busy on the house.”

“When was the last time you saw him, Josselyn?” she asks as she glances back to the swings and watches Brooklyn swing for a few moments.

“Last night after he dropped me off at home following the baby shower.”

“He didn’t even stay home last night?” she asks incredulously. I don’t answer her. What’s the use? I fight the tears that fill my eyes and do everything I can to keep them from spilling out of my eyes, but it’s no use. They fall anyway.

Avery has me in a fierce hug before I realize it, embracing me and comforting me with everything she has. “It’s okay, Josselyn.”

“I’m sorry. Just ignore me. My hormones are off the charts lately,” I tell her as I sniffle and take swipes at drying my eyes.

“No, it’s not okay. He’s being a jerk. I understand his need to finish the house, but he’s doing it the wrong way. I hope you know how much he cares for you. Travis worships you and isn’t thinking straight right now. He put so much pressure on himself that he’s not himself, okay?”

I can’t admit that I doubt her words. Yes, Travis is being a jerk, and yes, he needs to finish the house, but I don’t believe that he feels the same as he did a few months ago. He’s different now. The way he acts towards me and treats me is different now, and not in a good way. He’s distant and stand-offish. It’s like he’s already checked out.

I give Avery a small smile and nod my head as if I agree with what she’s saying. “I should get going,” I tell her. “I need to walk through the park and then head back towards home.”

“Okay. Promise me you’ll talk to Travis about his behavior,” she says with a warm hug.

“I promise,” I tell her, instantly feeling guilty because I have no intention of speaking with Travis about it. I wave good-bye to Brooklyn and promise to see her soon, though I don’t know if that’s a promise I will be able to keep either.

That night at home, I can’t keep the tears at bay. They seem to come and come uncontrollably as I get ready for bed. I lie in bed watching mindless television all the while my mind is racing at the situation I find myself in with Travis. I’m no closer to a resolution as I drift off into a fitful sleep.

*****

The next morning, my bladder wakes me up before six. When I step into the bathroom, I’m amazed that I don’t trip over a pile of clothes on the floor. In fact, when I glance around, there’s no sign at all that Travis came home last night. His side of the bed is virtually unruffled, the coffee pot is clean and empty, and his dirty clothes are nowhere to be found. Travis didn’t come home last night.

I panic. Did something happen to him? Is he hurt or in the hospital somewhere? Is there someone else? I can’t help all of the different scenarios that play out in my mind.

I grab my cell phone and check for a missed call. Nothing. There’s no text message, no word. I dial his number quickly and it goes straight to voice mail. I try again - okay, eight more times - before I finally give up on calling him. I type out a text message before I can stop myself.

R U OK?

But I get no reply. After several unanswered minutes, I start to panic and decide to call his dad. Mr. Stevens answers almost immediately.

“Hello?” he booms into the phone.

“Hi, Mr. Stevens, it’s Josselyn.”

“Oh, hi. Everything okay?” he asks, concern evident in his question.

“I’m actually trying to get a hold of Travis. He’s not answering his phone.”

“Oh, well he just left the office a few minutes ago to head out to the jobsite. Do you want me to get a hold of him for you?” he asks.

“No, that’s okay. As long as he’s there, that’s what I was looking for,” I tell him. A few minutes later, after a little polite conversation that I barely recall, I hang up.

So, Travis is fine, alive and at work. He just didn’t come home last night. I walk around in a daze for the next two hours before getting in the shower to get ready for work.

All day, I make small talk with the townsfolk and deliver lunch plates and drinks. But my mind is not at the diner. My swollen feet are killing me, my back is achy, and my heart is filled with grief.

At four o’clock, I head home from working my shift at the diner and force myself to go for a small walk. I have yet to hear from Travis today - or yesterday for that matter. I fix myself a tasteless, bland, saltless slice of fish and steamed vegetables for supper and submerge myself in more mindless television. The hours crawl by, lonely and unforgiving, until I fall asleep alone in the king size bed we used to share.

The next morning, I awake to the same morning as the one before. No signs of Travis anywhere. He didn’t come home again. My heart breaks in two as the pain and realization washes over me. Travis doesn’t want me.

By noon, I have my bags and boxes packed up and loaded in my car. It took me all morning to slowly make trip after trip down the four floors and out to my car. I pull out my cell phone and dial Matty’s familiar number.

“Hellllllooooooo,” he says with way too much chipper. As soon as I hear his voice, I break down into the sobs I fought all morning while I was packing. “Joss, what’s wrong? Is everything alright?” he asks.

“I’m leaving him, Matty,” I mumble, my heart wrenching as I say the words for the first time out loud.

“Travis? Why?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” I sob. “I’m lonely, Matty. I’m more alone now than I’ve ever been, even when I was trapped at home with my parents who expected more out of me.”

“Where are you going?” he asks quickly.

“I don’t know. I just got everything all packed up in my car,” I tell him with a sniffle.

“Come here. Right now. I’m heading into work for a shoot, but I won’t be long. Rico will be here to let you in. Don’t worry about your stuff, we’ll get it inside when I get home,” he tells me.

I agree with him and promise to not touch my stuff until he gets home. I sign off with the longing to be standing in front of my best friend with his arms securely wrapped around me.

I stand up and feel dizzy instantly. I quickly sit back down and take a few deep, calming breaths. When the dizziness finally subsides, I grab a sheet of paper and write out the message that’s been running through my head for the last few hours. After it’s written, I sign my name and set my key on top of the note. With one last glance around the apartment I’ve called home for the last five months, I head out into the hall, closing the door securely behind me.

I don’t allow myself the cry that’s threatening to come until I’m safely inside of Matty’s apartment thirty minutes later. Then, I finally allow myself to cry. And, boy, do I cry. It’s like a river of tears is released from me. My pain, my sorrow, my failure all released at once in a big rush of hot tears. I curl up on the couch and grieve until the sobs have left me spent and boneless. And that’s how Matty finds me an hour after my arrival back in St. Charles.

I hear the truck coming up the drive and turn around to see who it is. Dad. My father hops out of his truck and walks over to where I’m kicking up clouds of dust while cutting ceramic floor tiles with a wet saw.

“You look like hell, Son,” he says when he’s in front of me.

“I haven’t slept much, Dad.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve been working, Dad. This should not be a surprise to you,” I defend myself, feeling a slight twinge of guilt for my snippy attitude.

“Well, it’s not a surprise to me, but apparently it is to Josselyn,” my dad says, finally drawing my attention away from the saw in my hand.

“Why do you say that?”

“When was the last time you talked to her, Travis?” he asks, gently but firmly.

“I don’t know. A few days ago.”

“When was the last time you went home, Travis?”

“I don’t know, Dad. A few days ago,” I reply, agitated as hell. What game is he playing?

“So you’d have no clue if Josselyn was at home waiting for you or not?” he asks with a stern look in his green eyes.

“What? Why would Josselyn not be at home?” I ask, standing straight up, my entire body ridged and instantly tense from his words.

“She hasn’t been there in two days, Travis, and apparently, neither have you. Longer, if I had to guess.”

“Where the hell is she?” I boom back at my father, full of rage and bewilderment.

“Gone, Travis.”

I can’t even process the words he’s saying to me. He’s still talking as I fish my keys from my pocket and run towards my truck. I’m inside the cab and tearing out of the drive without even a glance back.

When I arrive back to the apartment a few minutes later, I jump in the elevator for the excruciatingly long ride up four flights. It’s like the elevator knows my anguish and what is waiting for me inside of the apartment so it crawls upward at a snail’s pace.

I fling the door to the apartment open and immediately know something is wrong. Everything is still there, yet the place feels empty. Void. Lifeless.

“Josselyn?” I holler from the door. “Joss?” I yell, again, as I head towards our bedroom. The bed is made and the place is tidy. But her clothes, her stuff on top of the dresser, everything that
IS
Josselyn is gone. Gone.

I run into the bathroom searching for any sign of her, but I sadly don’t find any. It’s like she’s completely vanished.

I head back into the kitchen in a daze and something shinny catches my eye on the table. A key. Not just any key, but the apartment key. The new one I had made for Josselyn when she moved in here with me. Underneath the key is a note. I recognize her large strokes instantly as I grab the note off the table.

Dear Travis,

I hate to do this in a letter, but honestly, it’s the only way I’ve been able to communicate with you lately. You’ve been gone for a while now, and I’m not just talking about your physical being. You’ve been mentally absent for a few weeks now, and I just can’t take it any longer. I’m tired of being lonely. I’m tired of being sad. And I’m tired of wondering what I’ve done wrong to push you away. You’re a great man, Travis, with a huge heart, and I know you are going to be a wonderful father to our son, if you so choose to still be. I will leave that completely up to you. I won’t blame you or speak ill of you if you choose to not participate in his life. I’m not sure where I’m going right now, but I have a temporary plan. I need time to process everything that’s going through my mind so I’d appreciate it if you’d wait to contact me until I contact you first. This way, you have time to think as well. You will always have a place in my heart. I don’t regret any of the time I spent with you, and I thank you for allowing me to be a part of your dream even for a little while.

Josselyn 

My heart beats wildly in my chest as I read and then re-read her words. The pain I feel in my chest as my heart cracks wide open and bleeds out is excruciating. Pain I’ve never experienced before as I slowly die inside. I close my eyes and pray for the words to change. I pray that when I look back down, the words are different. But when I open my eyes, they are still the same. I can’t believe she’s gone. She can’t be gone.

A noise behind me has me turning towards the door where my dad stands. “She’s gone,” I tell him as the first tear slides unchecked down my face.

“I know.” That’s all he says as he walks inside the apartment, shuts the door, and pulls me into his arms. I don’t bawl as my dad hugs me, but I’m not too big of a man to admit I cried a little. The woman I love left me, and it hurts like hell.

“How did you know she left?” I finally ask, clearing my throat of emotion.

“She called your mother this morning. Apparently she left yesterday, Travis.”

Yesterday? How can I not know she left me yesterday? What kind of douche bag doesn’t know his girlfriend has left him thirty-six hours after she left? I hang my head in shame as I take in his words and try to find my own.

“She wanted your mom to know that she was not staying here anymore and that she appreciated everything we’ve done for her. She said she would call us when the baby arrives so we can all be there if we want.”

I shake my head in understanding, but really, I don’t understand any of this. I stare back down at the crumbled note clenched tightly in my hand and walk slowly into the living room. My dad follows me, but doesn’t sit down.

“Do you need anything, Travis?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks for coming over and checking on me, but right now, I just want to be alone,” I tell my dad as I sink deep in the couch. Her scent is everywhere. I can smell her on the cushions and on the throw pillows.

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone, but know that you can call me anytime you want to talk.”

“I know. Thanks, Dad,” I tell him before he turns and heads out the door.

I’m sitting in the living room, surrounded by silence. I’ve never felt so alone in my entire life. Is this how Josselyn felt, trapped within these walls all by herself? While I was pushing myself harder and harder to finish the house so we both had our dream, a place to raise our son, was I alienating her and pushing her away? 

I don’t know.

I do know that this emptiness I feel in my chest, this horrible ache I feel isn’t going away anytime soon. No. Without Josselyn I feel empty and alone.

I know that tonight is going to be the longest and probably the worst night of my life.

*****

I’ve tried calling her cell phone multiple times a day for the past three days. It’s Saturday and her phone keeps going to voicemail. I’ve left several messages until yesterday when her voicemail told me it was full.

Today when I dial her number, I hear it actually ringing. My heart skips a beat as I wait with bated breath for Josselyn to answer.

“Hello?” I hear in a higher-pitched male voice filled with hostility and fire. Matty.

“Hey, Matty. It’s Travis. Is Josselyn there?”

“No.”

“No? She’s not there or I can’t talk to her?”

“You can’t talk to her.”

“Matty, please don’t be difficult. I appreciate you trying to protect her -” I say but am cut off.

“Protect her? YOU should have been the one to protect her, Travis. Not hurt her. Do you remember what I said I’d do if you ever hurt her?”

How could I possibly forget? “Of course I remember, Matty.”

“Well, then you’ll understand why I’m going to kick your ass the next time I see you,” he says so matter-of-factly that I can’t help but laugh.

“Sorry,” I mumble as I try to get my laughter under control.

“She’s sleeping right now, anyway. And I’m pretty sure that note she left you said she’d call you when she was ready. So, I suggest you just sit back and wait.”

“I can’t, Matty.”

“You don’t have a choice, Travis. She’s hurt and scared and seeing you right now is the last thing she needs. She should be resting and not stressing. Not worrying over you and your relationship. Just let her be before you cause more harm than good,” Matty says.

Before I can ask him what he means by that, he says, “Just leave her alone, Travis,” and then hangs up the phone.

I stare at the phone in my hand and drop it back in my lap like it bit me. I run my hands through my hair and down my face. I can’t stay in this apartment. I need out of this place. Now.

I jump in my truck and start driving. I find myself pulling into Avery’s place and parking behind her Jeep without giving it another thought. I feel like my feet are stuck in wet concrete as I mosey up the walkway and up her front steps. She’s standing there with the door already open when I reach the top step.

“You look like shit,” she says as she signals for me to step inside.

“I feel like shit,” I confirm.

“Good. You deserve to feel like shit.”

When I step inside, I glance in the living room and almost smile at my brother-in-law. If I wasn’t dying a thousand deaths on the inside, I would even laugh and throw a few smart ass comments his way. But, today? Today I just don’t have it in me.

“Come on. Say it. I know you want to,” Maddox says as he walks into the dining room wearing a very sparkly tiara, butterfly wings, and enough pink make-up on his face to make a drag queen look like she just left Sunday church.

“I want to, really, but I just don’t have the energy,” I tell him with the slightest raise of the corner of my mouth.

“You’ll understand very soon, Travis. When your child wants something, there is nothing you won’t do. No mountain you won’t move. No river you won’t cross. You just do it without even a thought of how crazy it is or how silly you may look. That’s unconditional love, right there. So, go ahead and make fun of me, but it won’t bother me a bit. I’ll do it again tomorrow,” Maddox says.

“I hope I’m half the father you are,” I tell him as I hold his gaze.

“You will be,” he says as he slaps my shoulder.

“So, what brings you here?” Avery asks.

“I’m frickin’ miserable. I can’t stay at the apartment because the walls feel like they’re closing in on me. I can’t go to the house because it feels like I chose it over her.”

“In a way, you did,” she adds.

“Maybe subconsciously, but that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to build our house, our dream, and have it ready in time for the baby.”

“Travis, if you would have included her more in the building of that house or remembered that there was someone waiting for you at home, you wouldn’t be in this predicament,” Avery says.

“Too little, too late, though right? I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking, big brother. As much as you messed up, this may still be fixable,” she tells me as she sits down across the dining room table from me.

“How? Tell me how,” I beg as I grab a hold of that tiny sliver of hope.

“First off, you need to realize some things about Josselyn. Do you realize that you missed a doctor’s appointment last Monday?”

The surprise is evident on my face, I’m sure. I suck in a big breath as I rack my brain trying to remember the appointment. “I couldn’t have. Her appointments are on Fridays.”

“That brings me to my next point, Travis. You don’t listen. Dr. Freeman was gone the week before so her appointment was on Monday. She sent you a text message because you have been a ghost lately. You not only didn’t respond to the text, but you didn’t show up to the appointment,” she says with a pointed, firm look. She reminds me of my mother right now which I’m sure she would hate, and since she’s already pissed off at me, I won’t bring it up.

“Do you know what she found out at that appointment, Travis? Do you know what it felt like for her to sit there by herself, alone, when the doctor told her she has preeclampsia? Do you know she had no one to lean on and no one to help her as she learned more about the condition she was just diagnosed with? A condition that is very serious and could be harmful to her and the baby?”

I close my eyes and hang my head in shame as I absorb the words my sister is saying.

“Do you know you didn’t come home for two nights after she learned that information, Travis? That she had no one to hold her hand and dry her tears. You checked out on her, so she went to the one person she could rely on.”

“What does that preclamps-whatever mean, Avery?” I ask without making eye contact.

“If you want to know, you’re going to have to do some research, Travis. I’m going to make you work for this. This is going to be the hardest work you’ve ever done, getting Josselyn to talk to you, let alone trust you again. But, I can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re willing to do it. So, go and learn. You also missed your first Lamaze class last night,” she says and it feels like I was punched in the fucking throat. I can’t breathe and my throat becomes tight.

“She scheduled the class two weeks ago and never had the chance to tell you. Matty went with her last night. Matty is the one who sat with her on that padded floor and helped her practice her breathing. Matty helped rub her back and work through her leg cramps.”