Isabella (The Mitchell/Healy Family #2)(20)
Author: Jennifer Foor

She put her head down and sighed. “I don’t blame you. I don’t know what I would have done if I were in your shoes, Rusty. I feel like this whole day is my fault.”

“It’s not. I think it’s something I needed to do for myself.”

“Does my cousin know about any of this?”

I didn’t want to be considered a liar, but I certainly couldn’t make up enough excuses to justify keeping my past from my employer. If anyone should have known what I’d been through it was him. “He doesn’t know anything, and I’d really appreciate it if he didn’t find out. Some things are left buried, especially when they pertain my sanity.”

“I get it. I can’t blame you. My family can be nosey. You’re lucky Noah isn’t like his daddy. He’s more withdrawn. I think as long as you keep doin’ a good job he’ll never ask.”

“What about your secret,” I quickly changed the subject. “When do you plan on telling him, and the rest of your family?”

She shrugged, and I watched her face scrunch up. “I don’t know. I suppose that I could tell Shalan, or maybe my grandmother, but everyone else won’t support me. I think it would be best if I just waited until after my first trimester was over. That way they can’t try to talk me out of it. If I’m really goin’ to go through with this pregnancy than I have a lot of things I need to figure out. I’m not ready to deal with their added stress. This is too big of a change to have to adapt to.”

I folded my hands and leaned forward. “I’m going to let you in on a secret about becoming a parent. No matter how much you try to prepare, you’re never really ready. You’re going to be a great mother. The moment you hold him or her in your arms for the first time you’ll know what I’m talking about. It really is the most beautiful moment of my life.”

Right away I thought about the worst moment of my life. I still wasn’t sure which hurt the worse; losing Simone, or Sydney. I’d never want to compare one to the other, but it was literally an unforgettable prolonged pain. To deal with their losses at the same time was horrendous. I went through the motions, with no real life coming out of me. For the most part I was dead inside. How anyone expected me to pick up those pieces and move forward was beyond my reasoning. They obviously had no idea what it was like to wake up one day and be without air. They couldn’t fathom what it felt like to look around my house and see only reminders of them everywhere.

I had to leave it all behind, because I couldn’t handle it any longer. It was either leave that life or put a bullet in my skull.

“Do you have a picture of them?” Her question sent immediate chills to my spine. Opening my wallet had become a chore, because I knew their faces were always inside. Reluctant, I pulled it open and pushed it across the table.

Her eyes increased in size when she saw in the pictures what I’d been seeing every time I looked at her. The resemblance was so similar, and there was no denying it.

“Oh my God. We could be sisters.”

I played with my hands, contemplating the notion of talking about it further. “Yeah. You can imagine what it was like for me to see you from afar on that first day. I was a bit freaked out.”

“I bet. They’re both very beautiful.” She started to laugh. “Is that conceited?”

I actually found humor in her question, enough to break a smile myself. “No. Even though you resemble each other, you’re very different. Simone was a wonderful mother. In fact, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for our daughter, but she was quiet, and somewhat shy. She liked the idea of the three of us living in a secluded cabin, where we didn’t have to associate with society.”

“That sounds like a beautiful life.”

I paused. It would have been beautiful, and I would have tried my best to give it to her, had she not taken her life. “I reckon it would have been, had she stuck around.”

“I’m sorry again for what you’ve had to endure. There’s no real words I can say to you that will put a dent in the pain you’ve suffered.” She looked down at the table, just when the waitress brought us our food.

For a couple minutes we both got started eating. I supposed I could have left the conversation alone, and forgotten about the way it was getting to me again, but opening up to someone after so long, especially with Isabella, made me feel alive. It reminded me that I was still living and breathing.

“It’s been hard for me, Iz. Can I call you that now?” I waited for her response.

“Sure. I’m gettin’ used to it.”

“Anyway, it’s been trying at times. For the first few months I completely shut down. My parents did their best, but it was a lost cause. I stopped working, and eventually lost the house. I let it go into foreclosure; lost everything because I couldn’t cope. Once I had to move back into their house they did everything they could to get me out of my coma-like state.”

She took a bite of food and spoke at the same time. Some would have been offended by her table mannerism, but I found it cute how comfortable she instantly felt being around me. “How did you get better? What made you up and leave?”

“I heard my parents fighting. They were discussing how I’d ruined my life. I know they didn’t mean it to be offensive, but I took it the worst way possible. In the middle of the night I packed a bag and left. For a while I just drove around, doing odd and end jobs to stay afloat. Then my bank account ran dry, and I knew that I could either be homeless or find something more permanent. I’ve always loved horses, and spent my summers working with a trainer, so I knew enough to make an impression on your cousin. He gave me a week to show him progress, and after I did he offered me the position. I never looked back after that, and even though they’re still on my mind almost every second of the day, I was able to start living again, well the best I could of course.” I looked down at my food and shook my head from side to side. “I can’t believe that I’m telling you all of this.”

“It’s okay. Really. I’m glad you’re able to talk about it. That’s got to be progress. Don’t you think?” I shouldn’t have looked into her eyes. The moment I did I felt all kinds of confused. She must have sensed it too. “I have to ask you somethin’, Rusty, and I don’t want you to take offense to it.”

“Ask away.” I already knew the question. I could see it in her body language. I’d watched her enough to know when she was nervous, scared, or confused.