That One Night (That One Series Book 1)
Read That One Night (That One Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Josie Wright
That One Night
By
Josie Wright
That One Night
That One Series – Book 1
Published by Josie Wright
Copyright © 2015 by Josie Wright
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Cover design by Kari Ayasha,
Cover to Cover Designs
(http://www.covertocoverdesigns.com)
Content Edited by Anja Pfister
Proofreading by D. Hurt II & Lucinda Claire
Formatting by Emma Clark,
ETBB Designs
(http://emthebookbabe.com)
Lyrics to “Just Let Me” by Season To Attack quoted with permission from
Season To Attack
(http://www.facebook.com/seasontoattack)
Wildwood Cemetery, Amherst, MA mentioned with permission from
Wildwood Cemetery
.
(http://www.wildwood-cemetery.com)
Impressum/Legal Information:
Josie Wright
c/o Papyrus Autoren-Club
Pettenkoferstr. 16-18
10247 Berlin
Tel.: 030 / 49997373
Email: authorjosiewright (at) gmail (dot) com
The names, characters, places and events portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, events or locales is coincidental and not intended by the author.
All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Except for the original material written by the author, all songs, brands, and artists mentioned in the novel
That One Night
are the property of the respective owners and copyright holders. Any brands mentioned do not endorse or sponsor this book in any way.
Warning: This book contains offensive language, violence, disturbing situations and sexual content. Mature audiences only. 18+
To D. Hurt II
Thank you for teaching me the meaning of friendship.
To my great-grandma
You’ve not only lent your name to the heroine, but also taught me what real strength means.
I miss you every day.
Chapter 3 Thanksgiving Dinner In Hell
Chapter 4 A Trip Down Memory Lane
Chapter 16 Things Old People Say
Chapter 19 Melting Hearts—Breaking Hearts
Chapter 20 Taking The Next Step
Chapter 23 Deer In The Headlights
Chapter 24 Christmas In The Air
Chapter 25 The Sword Of Damocles
Chapter 30 Hearts Under The Christmas Tree
Chapter 31 More Than Just A Gift
Chapter 36 Fantasies Come True
The Journey
I’ve been driving for hours now, over eight long hours to be exact. Only two more to go and just thinking about it makes me slow down, dreading the upcoming three days. I would love to just turn around and drive back home. Funny, considering my destination used to be, and should be, what I call home, but in the past eighteen months, things have changed considerably. Instead of feeling welcome, safe, and protected, I feel like an intruder who’s ruining everyone’s day. I take a few deep breaths and try to find the resolve I need to not run away like a little girl. I’m not going there for myself, but because of him—Archer. The reason for most of the things I do these days.
I look into the rear-view mirror and see him sleeping happily. He is such a happy and calm baby. Sure, he has his moments that make me want to pierce my eardrums with a sharp object, but overall he’s usually smiling and laughing, or babbling away. Right now he’s blowing little bubbles with every exhale. Two years ago, this would have grossed me out, now I find it adorable.
Concentrating back on the road in front of me, I change the radio station and am greeted by Bob Dylan’s “Forever Young.” I can’t help but smile, singing along to the lyrics in my head. Even if I didn’t know all the Bob Dylan songs by heart, this one I definitely would as I’m reading the same-titled children’s book based on those lyrics to Archer most nights. It’s a message I want him to remember. I want him to preserve the wonder and happiness he feels as a baby, and that I hope to make sure he’ll feel as a child.
The song ends and the first notes of the next track start to play. I can’t take it and have to switch the channel, feeling as if my heart is being squeezed by a vice. I used to love listening to “Ain’t No Sunshine” by Bill Withers, but even though it’s not the original version playing, it stirs too many emotions, and I can’t deal with them. The upcoming three days will be hard enough as it is. As much as my family loves the little boy happily snoring in the backseat, I have become the black sheep
—
even more so than before. I turn the radio off and enjoy the silence and Archer’s cute little sleepy noises. I focus on repeating a mantra in my head.
The weekend will be wonderful. The weekend will be wonderful.
But since I’m not delusional, the mantra falls flat and a knot forms in my stomach.
I used to get along so well with my parents. Yes, I was always a bit of a rebel and did things differently than they would have liked, but that did not interfere with our relationship. I never would have expected things to get this fucked up. But ever since the moment I announced my pregnancy to them sixteen months ago, everything went to hell. They love Archer, and for that I’m thankful. I, on the other hand, am a thorn in their side that they begrudgingly accept, since Archer and I come as a package deal.
***
While I’m driving down the interstate, I notice the gas station with the little BBQ restaurant. I cringe at the memory of puking my guts out in their parking lot sixteen months ago.
I had come back to visit my parents for a few days during the summer break, knowing I had to tell them the news. I had known that I was pregnant for a few weeks already, but it wasn’t something I wanted to share over the phone. As scared and confused as I was about the whole situation, I knew in my heart that having this baby was the right thing for me. Maybe because the baby was a part of him. A part that I wanted to hold on to, since I couldn’t hold on to him.
After I arrived and we all greeted each other, we went outside for a BBQ. Even my brother Dave was there and not inside some poor chick’s pants. While my father was grilling the steaks, and my mom was bringing out enough food to feed a small African village, I gazed out over the garden with all its wild bushes and multitude of color. I used to love playing there as a kid, imagining fairies and elves were hidden in the wilderness.
When my Dad finished the steaks, everyone sat down at the table. Within the blink of an eye, Dave had already managed to wolf down half a steak. I wasn’t really hungry. The smell of the food made me nauseous, and I had to take a few deep breaths to keep from spoiling everyone’s lunch. I’m not sure if it was the pregnancy or the fact that I was about to share my news.
“
Guys, I need to tell you something, and let me first say that,” I clasp my hands together under the table, squeezing them for dear life to relieve some of the nervousness, “I have everything figured out. I will finish college and this doesn’t change a thing.”
At that point, I had everyone’s undivided attention, and I think my mom suspected what would come next as she covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide and her head shaking slightly from side to side.
“
I’m pregnant. A bit over two months along.” I looked from one to the other, my voice surprisingly calm.
At first there was an eerie silence—to the point I could hear the ticking of my father’s watch. I was happy how well that went. No one was shouting and I stupidly hoped that it’d be simply acknowledged and we could go on with the BBQ. Boy, was I wrong.
My mom stared at me, her hand now over her heart and her mouth pursed. “We didn’t know you had a boyfriend, darling. Why haven’t we met him?”
I shook my head, knowing that the silence wouldn’t keep long after what I had to say next.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“
So, who is the father?” my dad gritted out between clenched teeth.
Breathe in and out, I reminded myself.
“
That’s not important, Dad. He isn’t someone who will be in mine or the baby’s life, so it really doesn’t matter.”
“
Is it the professor you always talked so much about?”
“Professor Winston? What? Mom, no! What the hell?!?”
That was when the shit hit the fan. My father’s fist landed on the table with a loud thump, making us all jump. That was the first sign of life I noticed from my brother. So, he hadn’t eaten himself into a coma just yet.
“
Watch your mouth, Frankie. I will only ask once—who is the father?”
“It doesn’t matter, Dad. Let it go, please.”
“Let it go. Are you fucking kidding me?” He roared, causing me to lean back to get more distance between us. He rarely ever cursed, only when he was furious. The last time I could remember—him being like this—was when he caught my ex-boyfriend climbing out of my window.
“My daughter comes home and tells me that instead of getting an education she gets knocked up with somebody’s bastard child, probably whoring around with a married man, who, to make matters even worse, is her professor.”
He took a breath and so did I. I knew they wouldn’t react what one might call favorably, but this—this felt like someone was twisting a knife in my heart. Sure, I had never lived the life of a saint. But I wasn’t a whore either. And one thing I definitely wasn’t was a home wrecker. Unfortunately, the breath he had taken wasn’t to calm down, but to give him enough air to continue with his tirade.
“
Is this how you thank your mother and I? We’ve been accepting of all your little eccentricities, but this....this.... I fucking can’t believe this shit. You better take care of it.”
I swallowed, forcing myself to talk. “What do you mean with take care of it?”
“You know damn well what I mean.”
My mother put a soothing hand on his arm, trying to diffuse his anger a bit. But at this point, the tears of hurt that had been building behind my eyes turned into tears of anger. Just when I needed their approval and support the most, I got this instead.
“
If you think I will have an abortion, then you are dead-wrong. I am having this baby. I don’t care what you think about it. You have two choices: accept it and be a part of your grandchild’s life, or go on behaving like a bigoted, hypocritical asshole and never meet your grandchild,” I shrieked, my voice a few octaves higher than usual.
“
What did you just call me?” He looked like he was going to jump across the table, his hands were gripping the edges, his body leaning over it. His face had turned into a mask of anger and disgust, his mouth twisting into a snarl, his eyes narrowed and his face red. My mother grabbed his shoulder.
“Richard, let’s go inside, please.”
He hesitated for a moment and glared at me, then turned around and went inside, slamming the door behind him. I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.
My mother walked toward the patio door, but turned around before walking inside. Her posture was stiff, her head tilted slightly upwards, looking down her nose at me.
“
You are a disappointment, Francine. I would have never expected you to be a whore.” With that, she left and went inside. I slumped in my seat and at this point, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Sure, I knew the news was a shock, but their reaction was far worse than I ever could have imagined.
My brother handed me a napkin and patted me on the shoulder. “They’ll get over it. Eventually. I hope. Until then, your kid will have the coolest uncle in the world. Come on, let’s get your pregnant ass to Dairy Queen and feed you lots of ice-cream, so you can get fat and ugly.”
I couldn’t help a small smile from emerging between the sobs.
“
Fuck you, Dave.”
He chuckled while dragging my sorry ass to his truck.
***
Needless to say, I didn’t stay for the whole weekend; instead I left the same evening and didn’t see them until after Archer was born.
The memory hits me every time I’m coming back to visit. And just like every other time, it leaves me a bit more heart-broken and teary-eyed. I can’t stop a pitiful sigh from escaping. I need to remember that I’m not doing this for them, or for myself. This is for Archer. The poor kid already has to grow up without a dad, so I won’t deprive him of growing up with his grandparents, no matter how much they hate his mother.
I know I need to try and shake those thoughts, otherwise I won’t make it through this weekend. My mother had talked me into spending the whole Thanksgiving weekend with them. She found it necessary to explain that this would allow them to spend more quality time with Archer. Yeah, like I would have otherwise mistaken her invitation for wanting to spend time with me. I know that ship has sailed. But I have decided to do it, especially knowing that Dave would be there. He’s going to college in Florida, having transferred there about a year ago. I do have the suspicion that his studies mainly consist of the female anatomy. And his grades and failed classes prove my point. Spending most of his time charming his way into some girl’s pants, doesn’t leave much time for studying. With him being this far away and me living in Massachusetts, I don’t get to see him very often. Being able to see my big brother and spend some time with him helped me make the decision to go and visit my parents.
My phone rings playing Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now” and thankfully interrupts my train of thought.
I don’t need to check who’s calling. This ring tone can only mean one person. I click on the little button on my earpiece on my Bluetooth headset. “Hey, Dean. What’s up? Miss me already?”
Dean chuckles. “Of course we do, darling. How is the drive going so far?”
Dean is one of my roommates and part of my make-shift family. He’s been my best friend ever since we met in French class in high school, both of us bored out of our minds. When he graduated a year ahead of me and left for college, I felt like I was missing a piece of myself. It was no surprise that I decided to follow him to Northampton to study psychology. He’s my soulmate in a non-romantic way. We have so much in common it’s scary sometimes. I feel bad for Alex, his husband, who has to deal with both of us
—
two crazy, emotional hippies.
“The drive is long and boring,” I reply. “And it gives me too much time to think. I consider turning around on an hourly basis.”
“Aww, darlin’. You’ll get through it, like you always do. Just remember, they don’t know better. Don’t take it personally. It’s their problem, not yours.”
“What self-help book are you reading now?” I can’t stop myself from asking, although I know he’s right. I get what he’s saying and it would have been my usual reply, too. But visiting my parents makes me forget all the wonderful Buddhist ideas and spiritual teachings I have learned in the years since I started hanging out with Dean.
“You know I’m right.”
“Bite me,” I grumble.
Dean starts laughing. “Love you too, girl. Just wanted to check in on you and make sure that you hadn’t taken the route to Mexico instead. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Love you, too.”
When I hang up and take a look into the backseat, Archer is wide awake and smiling.
“And you, baby boy...Momma loves you the most.”