In This Moment (An In This Moment novel Book 1) Read online

  I’ve tried to figure how I know him, though I’m not sure I even do. Knowing him is the only way I can make sense of it. Men don’t stare at me like that, and no one has smiled at me that way in a very long time.

  If Xander were here, I know exactly what he’d say. “The dude was checking you out because you’re so damn sexy. He can’t have you though, because you’re all mine.” I’ve never had much self-esteem, but he always had a way of making me feel so beautiful.

  In my mind, I can still see a clear picture of him—that wonderful crooked smile on his face as he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. It’s the look he always gave me when he wanted to make me smile, and even now, it makes me laugh out loud. It feels good to laugh. I don’t do it much, and it makes the heaviness in my chest feel instantly lighter.

  “What’s so funny, Momma?” Maddison asks, her eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror.

  “Nothing, sweetie. I was just thinking about something I saw in the library,” I answer, hoping she’ll drop the subject. Maddison tends to be relentless when she asks a question, and the more info you give, the more she wants to know about it.

  “Was it that man smiling at you? Is that who was looking at your paper?” she asks, continuing to pry. My eyes widen and I take a deep breath. I swear, the girl never misses a thing or lets anything go. A sigh being my only response to her question, she continues. “I think he thought you were pretty.”

  I smile at her as a loving warmth flows through me. She reminds me so much of her father—my little Xander 2.0. She may be the spitting image of me with her long, dark hair and green eyes, but she acts just like her daddy. There was a time when them being so much alike would drive me crazy—Maddison possessing every infuriating trait Xander had—but now, it only makes me love her all the more when I see the best parts of him radiating through.

  As hard as I’ve tried to be a good mother and not let my issues impact them, I know I’ve failed. Sean doesn’t know any different. The stressed out, quick-tempered mom who cries over her glass of wine at night is the only mom he’s ever known. Maddison, though, my sweet little girl, she remembers what it used to be like. She remembers what I used to be like. The changes in me, along with everything else that happened, have had a negative impact on her.

  And I hadn’t realized just how much until I got a call from her teacher a few weeks into the new school year. It was a shock, to say the least. Maddison isn’t a trouble maker. She gets good grades and listens to her teachers. Even when she had a teacher she didn’t like, she still managed to stay out of trouble. So, I felt blindsided by the disheartening call.

  I sat in shocked silence, listening as her teacher went on about how she felt Maddison was profoundly sad, depressed, and angry. Her words caused me to clutch my stomach as if someone had punched me in the gut. Nothing she said sounded anything like my sweet little Maddison. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the odd conversation.

  When Maddison’s teacher originally suggested she speak with the school counselor a couple times a week, I’d been completely opposed to the idea. Even though I’d never want to do anything to make Maddison’s life at school harder and have always tried to avoid confrontation with her teachers, that conversation hadn’t gone very smoothly. In the course of twenty minutes, I’d gone from having a daughter who had never had any issues at school to her teacher suggesting she needed counseling. The fact that she considered my beautiful, smart, sweet little girl a “special project”—as she’d called her—made my blood boil.

  I wanted to tell her Maddison could talk to me about anything bothering her, that she didn’t need someone else to talk to because she had me, but in my heart, I knew that wasn’t true anymore. I’ve been a complete mess since Xander’s death and in need of some “counseling” myself. How could I expect her to feel comfortable coming to me with her troubles?

  Wanting to do anything I could for my daughter, I conceded to Mrs. Moore’s request. Having that conversation with my baby girl made my heart ache. I didn’t want to believe she had a problem or needed to talk with anyone, but the sadness in her eyes and hope in her voice made it clear I was wrong. I’d been so wrapped up in my own pain and sorrow, I’d failed to see just how much she was suffering too.

  A week later, she started her counseling sessions. Although the guilt from knowing how much I’d failed her made my chest heavy, I knew it was a good thing for her. It was, without question, a huge wakeup call for me as well. I want to be the mom she and Sean deserve again; the kind of mom who bakes cookies and does crafts with her kids on the weekends. I always wanted be one of those PTO moms who never missed a single field trip or school party. Before my life changed two and a half years ago, I was a pretty kick ass mom. It was the one thing in life I felt confident about. But I’ve been failing my baby girl since I lost Xander. Falling apart the way I did forced her to grow up way too quickly. It’s almost as if she lost both parents that day.

  I want to be better and feel better. I want to be the person I used to be, but I don’t know how to get her back—or if I even can. I feel like I’ve lost the best parts of me.

  “Yo, earth to Brenden!” Jon shouts as something hits me in the back of the head. Rubbing the sting away, I turn in my desk chair to face him. Before I have a chance to respond, he switches on the overhead light in my bedroom, causing me to wince. I must have been sitting in here longer than I realized. I hadn’t noticed the room getting darker as the sun went down.

  “Dude, what gives?” I ask on a harsh breath, my mouth pressed into a hard line as I glare at him with narrowed eyes.

  “That’s what I was wondering myself,” he responds, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his feet before popping another peanut into his mouth. “Why the hell are you sitting in the damn dark? Did you even hear a word I said?”

  Shrugging, I give him a guilty, lopsided grin. I honestly hadn’t heard a thing he said, or even realized he approached my room. It’s that damn woman from the library. She’s still plaguing my thoughts hours later. I don’t know what to make of the pull I felt toward her. I’ve never felt anything like it and it’s knocked me on my ass.

  There has to be something other than her beauty drawing me to her, but I haven’t been able to place my finger on what exactly that something is, and it’s making me nuts. I keep thinking about the haunting sadness in her eyes. She looked as if she merely strives to survive every moment of life rather than embracing it, and it’s left my mind reeling about what could possibly have her viewing life that way.

  My thoughts are interrupted again when Jon throws another peanut at me, hitting me in the forehead this time.

  “Seriously! What the fuck, dude?” I hiss, coming to my feet.

  “You were doing it again,” Jon answers, pulling himself up to stand taller. He holds his hands up in surrender, showing me he is out of peanuts, his forehead creased in confusion. “What’s your deal? Where’s your head at?”

  “Nowhere,” I growl, the muscles in my shoulders tensing. Jon recoils a little and an instant tinge of regret knots in my stomach for snapping the way I have. This woman has taken over my entire headspace, and it’s left me feeling abnormally on edge. “What’s so damn important?” I manage to keep my tone less aggressive as I lower myself back into my chair.

  “I was trying to tell you about the plans for tomorrow night,” he answers, still sounding a little sullen as he makes his way farther into my room, running his hands through his long, wavy blond hair before tucking them into his front pockets.

  “What about it?” Relaxing back in my chair, I tilt my head to look at the ceiling, willing the tension to leave my body.

  Jon shouldn’t have to deal with me acting like an asshole. He’s been my best friend for as far back as I can remember, and he’s stuck around through thick or thin for longer than I deserve. Far too much of my life was wasted feeling sorry for myself, and I had a bad habit of taking my grievances out on other people—mainly Jon.

  He’s always been a
ware and accepting of my issues, though. They’d been the catalyst that started our friendship in the first place. In second grade, when my abusive, alcoholic father busted my lip for getting in his way, I’d taken it out on the first person who attempted to show me compassion. Jon, being in love with Allison even then, had stepped in to protect her, letting me know he wouldn’t allow me to harm her in any way. I admired the way he stood up to me—especially the fact that he’d done so to protect someone he cared about, and I wanted someone like that in my life. I’ve never deserved having a friend like Jon Alder, but I am damn sure grateful for him.

  It’s been Jon who’s encouraged me and helped me get back on my feet these last couple years. Even though I’d done nothing but try continuously to push him away. He’s a rare breed—loyal and kind almost to a fault. There is no doubt in my mind I wouldn’t be doing as well as I am today without his friendship.

  “Dinner with my parents,” he replies, a slight bite in his tone. Guilt washes over me again. I forgot his parents were coming to visit tomorrow.

  “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to be a shithead,” I apologize, bringing my eyes back to focus on him. “You have my full attention this time, I swear.” I shoot him my best toothy smile and straighten in my chair.

  “Screw you, dude. Your panty-dropping smile does not work on me. Asshole,” he responds, keeping his voice low as he crosses his arms, trying to stay stern. When his lips twitch, betraying him, he gives up his act.

  Letting out a sigh, he shakes his head before continuing. “Okay, like I was saying, we’re meeting at Outback.” Pausing, he lifts an eyebrow, questioning whether I’m still listening. I nod and gesture for him to continue. “Make sure you’re there at seven, dipshit. I’m not covering for you again if you get sidetracked by some woman.”

  I run my fingers over the hair on my jawline and laugh, remembering how mad he’d been when I ditched dinner to hop on a plane to Vegas with a woman I’d met only a few hours before. “Don’t hate on me for living my life in the moment. You should have seen her. It was very easy to get sidetracked. Besides, I’d never been to Vegas. I wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity like that.”

  “I get it, dude, and I would much rather you be ‘living in the moment’ than acting like a little emo fucker with a damn chip on his shoulder, but—” Cutting him a look, I flip him off, and he laughs. “But if you do that to me again, you’ll be the one explaining to Mom and Dad how you flaked on them so you could blow your load in some random chick.”

  Scoffing, I get up and walk over to my dresser. Jon often refers to his parents as if they’re mine, and I’ve never been sure how I feel about it. They’ve certainly been there for me more than my biological parents ever were, but they hadn’t been the ones responsible for raising me—no matter how much I wish they could’ve been.

  “Don’t get your damn panties in a bunch, I’ll be there,” I reply, rifling through the drawers of my dresser for a change of boxers and a clean black t-shirt. I made plans to go to a new club in Nashville tonight with Angela—the closest I get to having a girlfriend—and I’m hoping she can help wipe away the memory of that woman.

  Angela waitresses in the party suites at Nissan Stadium, and we met during a Titan’s game. The woman stays busy between her college courses and the many jobs she works to support her lavish lifestyle. She claims it won’t be a problem once she gets her foot into the music industry—something about being a producer or some shit—but many people come here with the same dream and very few get to see it come to fruition. Angela doesn’t have the time to sit around waiting for my call, but she’s always willing to make time for me. That fact is the main reason—besides the obvious one—I like keeping her around. It’s nice to have a good go-to versus having to pick up random women and never knowing what you might end up with.

  “You better be, asshole.”

  “Or what?” Brushing past him on my way to the shower, I nudge him with my shoulder. “You going to do something about it, little man?” I goad. Jon scowls as I laugh and make my way down the hall. He’s always been smaller than me, and despises being teased about it. Which, of course, only makes it more fun. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up, kiddo.”

  Fake It Until I Make It

  “Who wants ice cream?” Xander asks in a singsong voice, a boyish smile spreading across his face.

  “I do! I do!” Maddison and I shout in unison.

  Laughing, he reaches over to take my hand in his and laces his fingers through mine before bringing it to his lips. A warmth runs through me from the light kiss he places on my hand.

  Tracing circles on his hand with my thumb, I whisper, “Your love is better than ice cream.”

  “Sarah McLaughlin,” he responds, looking rather pleased with himself as he winks at me.

  The shrill sound of Sean’s scream startles me, bringing the cold, hard reality back down around me.

  “For the love of God, Maddison! Please, just give him whatever it is so he’ll stop screaming! So long as he can’t harm himself or others, I don’t care!” I shout, keeping my place on the couch in the living room, my chest resting on my bent knees, my arms hugging my legs.

  The dimmed light from the window tells me the day has nearly slipped away. Most people would want to celebrate a day like today, but I’ve chosen to ignore it altogether. I turned off my phone first thing this morning and have wasted the day away laying around in my pajamas.

  Saturdays used to be my favorite day of the week. They were for relaxing and enjoying time with my family. When Xander was still here, he made every Saturday fun—taking us to the zoo on beautiful sunny days or to see a movie on rainy ones. I know he would have done everything he could to make this particular Saturday amazing.

  After Xander’s accident, our fun Saturdays stopped altogether. Last year, I tried to make our Saturdays special again, but it had been a complete failure. I hated failing my kids—failing myself—but it’d all proven to be too much.

  I gasp at the quick, sharp knock on my front door as I jolt off the couch. Unexpected visitors at my door tend to make me a little anxious, but this one isn’t all that unexpected. I knew she’d show up at some point today, but part of me still hoped she’d just let this one slide.

  Beating me to the door, Maddison shouts with excitement, “It’s Aunt Cat and Lori!” She looks at me, wanting permission to open the door for them. With reluctance, I nod my head and gesture for her to go ahead.

  My sister Catelyn and her best friend, Lori, have yet to stop trying to help me “cope” with Xander’s death. They’ve made it their life's mission. I know they mean well and love them more for it, but I’m not in the mood for any of their pep talks today.

  I stand back in the hallway while Cat and Lori make their way into the small foyer, acknowledging and fussing over the kids. Cat gives them hugs and kisses their cheeks before handing them each a giant cookie and sending them into the kitchen.

  “Are you seriously still in your pajamas?” Cat asks when she finally reaches me, her forehead creasing as her mouth twists in disapproval.

  “It’s nice to see you too, Cat,” I reply, deadpan, turning away from her and walking back into the living room. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today?”

  “You know damn well why we’re here. You can turn off your phone and try to hide from everyone all day if you want, but I’m not going to miss celebrating my baby sister’s thirtieth birthday.”

  She laughs as I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose. The last thing I feel like doing is celebrating. Besides, I’m not ready to turn thirty.

  “We’re taking you out to dinner for your birthday, like it or not,” Lori chimes in, chuckling along with Cat as she pats my shoulder. “Now, go take a shower and get dressed.”

  My small living room feels even smaller with Cat and Lori’s dominating personalities filling the space, the beige walls suddenly closing in on me.

  “No thanks,” I respond, attempting to flop back onto the cou
ch.

  “We’re not asking,” Cat reiterates, pulling on my arm to keep me from sitting. “You need to get out of this house, and you need a break from being mommy. Now, go get showered and changed. Lori and I will play with the kids until the sitter gets here.”

  “Sitter? I don’t—”

  “Yes, my friend Bethany is coming to sit with the kiddos. Cat and I both know her well. You don’t have anything to worry about,” Lori answers.

  “But I can’t—” I attempt to protest again, but snap my mouth shut when I catch the scowl on Cat’s face.

  “It’s your birthday for Christ’s sake. We’re going out to celebrate!” she says, her voice raising an octave, emotion causing her eyes to gloss over. “Now, go!” Cat shouts in frustration while pointing toward my bedroom.

  I give her one hell of a side-eye, but don’t bother arguing any further as I make my way to my room.

  In true Cat and Lori fashion, they pick the restaurant without asking me. It’s not that I don’t like Outback, it’s the crowd that bothers me, a fact they are both well aware of. I’ve been ready to crawl out of my skin since the moment we walked in the door and found an overcrowded waiting area. I shifted uncomfortably at the people standing and sitting shoulder to shoulder, keeping my eyes focused anywhere they weren’t. With deep breaths, I imagined myself somewhere else—a place of quiet solitude.