Something Borrowed a novel

Copyright © 2017 by L.E. Dawson

Mill City Press, Inc.

2301 Lucien Way #415

Maitland, FL 32751

407.339.4217

www.millcitypublishing.com

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

ISBN-13: 9781545602898

Printed in the United States of America

Jill

Jill was running late for her final fitting appointment, but didn’t care. She was bursting with excitement about her wedding next week. Finally, everything’s coming together. Her mother had called her earlier that day to let her know that her veil had come in and she’d picked it up. Week after week of dresses that weren’t in her size…Jill didn’t want to special order anything; her sister, Anna, on the other hand, didn’t mind special ordering and ordered a bridesmaid dress in the wrong size (although Jill thought her sister intentionally ordered that smaller size, in hopes it would fit). Jill couldn’t wait to try on her dress with the veil…her mother’s old veil. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, Jill turned the car toward her mom’s to pick up the veil and see if her mom wanted to come with. Jill’s mom wanted to get the veil restored having yellowed a little from years of storage. Jill and her mom got along, but Jill had to admit that she loved her late father, Phil, more. Her father was always so laid back and happy; when he’d died of heart attack five years ago it had seemed like a cruel joke. Jill’s world had been taken from her when he’d died, and it had taken months for her to even want to go into his den. The smell in that room reminded her so much of him, that any minute she expected him to come through the door and ask where his munch kin was.

After Jill’s dad died, her mom became a different person, in some ways. She started going out to different social clubs like reading, bridge, and different travel tours. In four months, Jill’s mom had toured Italy, France, and Brazil, saying it was always a dream deferred and she didn’t want to wait anymore. While Jill was happy her mom had moved on, it would have been nice if she had waited at least a couple of months. Shaking an anger that sometimes seemed unreasonable, Jill headed to her mom’s in hopes of surprising her. Jill wanted to include her mom in the wedding as much as possible; while they weren’t as close as Jill would have liked, Jill still loved her mom deeply and wanted to share in these memories. Lisa, Jill’s new mother-in-law, had volunteered to have the wedding at her and her husband Harold’s house, and Jill was extremely grateful, one reason being the reduced cost. With Lisa hosting, Jill had spent considerable time planning with her, and she felt a little guilty for not including her mom.

Pulling into the driveway, Jill parked behind a blue Buick. In her harried state, she thought nothing of it. Jill hopped out of the car and raced to the door, conscious that she was running late and risked missing her appointment altogether.

Not hearing anything when she knocked on the door, Jill pulled out her key. With her dad gone, Jill felt obligated to check in on her mom periodically—a much easier feat with her own key. Jill pursed her lips to call out Mom, then stopped when she heard a moan coming from the living room. Jill turned in that direction, then froze. Her eyes and her brain warred over what she saw. While Jill was no fool and didn’t expect her mom to be celibate, she never thought she’d walk in on her in a sexy black nightie with red high-heeled shoes, kissing a man so passionately that they both failed to notice Jill coming in. That might have been enough for Jill’s poor disturbed brain to handle, but then in front of her, only in his underwear, was Harold, Jill’s soon-to-be father-in-law.

Anna Marie

Anna Marie dreaded going to Jill’s wedding next week. It was just another reminder that her sister was accomplishing things in life that she had yet to even approach. Jill and Scott seemed like the perfect couple, which her mom always wanted to point out. It didn’t help that Anna attracted guys who could have created a show called World’s Top Garbage. At thirty Anna had no prospects and worse, no date for the wedding ne xt week.

She even had to wear a dress that she hated and that she would have to squeeze in to, since she ordered it two sizes too small. Jill, four years Anna’s junior, had graduated with a master’s in social work and currently worked at a nonprofit, barely making enough to cover her student loans. Still, her mother thought Jill was noble and Anna, who decided to become a corporate lawyer, a pawn for the man. Anna felt like she would never be enough for their mother and now she had to spend days with her, hearing it over and over again.

This next week couldn’t be worse. Depressed, Anna looked at the clock and saw it was only 1:00—too early to leave work and go drinking. Still, Anna recognized that in her current mood she wouldn’t accomplish anything; she’d rather leave and take a break and resume work at home.

Grabbing her bag and heading for the door, Anna was once again stopped by Brad, the mail guy. He was nice enough—six-foot-two, brown hair, chocolate-brown eyes. He always seemed to have a smile on his face and he liked to whistle as he came through the office. The ladies in the office swooned over him and always seemed to free themselves when he came through to deliver the mail. Anna rolled her eyes and waited impatiently for him to move his mail cart. Brad smiled at Anna and she didn’t smile back. He pulled his cart to the side and tilted his head in apology, continuing to smile at Anna with a knowing look. Anna tried to ignore Brad and failed. She grabbed her bag tighter and headed out of the office as fast as she could without looking back, sure that Brad’s eyes were following her exit.

It was last year at the office Christmas party. I don’t know how it happened, but desperate times lead you to cross lines that you thought you would never cross. One minute I was at the office talking and laughing with Gretchen, another attorney, and her husband, Greg, and then the next minute we decided to go to a bar downtown to continue the festivities. I don’t know how I started to talk to him but one minute I was talking with the group and having a drink, and the next we were sharing a cab with the intention that he would go home and not to my place. In the next instant I was having the best sex of my life with the mail guy, Brad.

Anna shook off the memory, disgusted with herself. Everyone knew that Brad gave more than just the mail at the office; now she’d been added to his list of conquests. Anna shook her head at her foolishness. She walked to the bar and ordered a scotch on the rocks, then saluted herself. Here’s to no prospects.

Lisa

Lisa looked at the recipe one more time to make sure that she was reading it correctly. She didn’t cook very often, so following the recipe was essential—otherwise she would have to use her backup plan and call the Bella’s for delivery. Lisa wanted to surprise Harold since they rarely ever ate a home-cook ed meal.

Right when Lisa was verifying the recipe for the last time, the phone rang. It was Scott checking up on them. Lisa loved her son and was so excited that he was getting married, because after marriage came grandchildren…hopefully lots of them. Scott was impressed that his mom was cooking, and from scratch no less.

When the kids were growing up Lisa didn’t take the time to cook, partly because she hated being in the kitchen and partly because she wasn’t naturally a good cook. The kids and Harold ate more than their fair share of hot dogs, ramen noodles, and pizza. Once Scott turned twelve, he began to take an interest in the kitchen and by the time he was fourteen, the Dover family was eating home-cooked meals again. Harold never complained about her not cooking, but once Scott started to cook, Harold was at the table every night with nothing left on his plate and a big, satisfied smile Harold would turn Scott’s way, proud and surprised at his skill, considering Lisa’s lack thereof.

Excited, Lisa put the chicken in the oven and set the timer, crossing her fingers that it would turn out.

Scott and Lisa chatted for a few more minutes about the wedding, going over some last-minute details. Lisa had set up the house to be professionally cleaned next week and a landscaper had started working on the yard a couple of months ago to get it ready. Lisa was honored that Jill had agreed to have the wedding at their home. Lisa felt privileged that her firstborn was getting married, and at their house, no less.

Lisa could tell that Scott was excited even though he stayed rather mellow like his father. His easy laughter and light tone told Lisa her son was truly looking forward to his wedding day.

Well, Mom, I won’t keep you. You sound busy, and if you’re cooking, then you need all your attention on the task ahead. Scott was only half-teasing his mom. Her cooking skills left a lot to be desired.

Ha, ha, I can follow a recipe and I’m about done anyway, but you’re right—I don’t want to mess up anything. We’ll talk soon. Scott and Lisa hung up and Lisa went back to focusing on the task at hand. She looked at the clock and wondered when Harold would be back. Lately Harold had been gone a lot and Lisa was hoping that a meal at home along with his favorite dessert, apple crisp, would help them spend some much-needed quality time together. They say that food is the way to a man’s heart. Lisa hoped not, because she’d been ignoring that avenue for all these years. At this point, however, she was willing to try anything. Humming, she saw she had about forty minutes before the chicken was done, which would give her enough time to take a shower. As she headed upstairs to get ready, Lisa smiled, hoping that apple crisp wasn’t the only thing on the menu for dessert.

Scott

Scott should have predicted how his day was going to go from the moment he had a flat tire on the freeway, but he believed it could only go up from there. Even when he pulled out the spare tire, he still believed that good things were to come. Scott was still smiling when the tow truck arrived. When Scott got to the auto dealership, they told him that he needed to replace all his tires. Scott shrugged, thinking it was a good thing that his tire blew that morning, otherwise he would have no spare and he would have three more bad tires to deal with. All in all, a good start to the day.

Scott worked at a tech firm as a software developer. He had been there since graduating from college five years ago. He liked the work and the people, but recently Scott got a new boss, Juana, whom he didn’t like so much. She looked like she had a perpetual frown and she watched the team closely, counting the minutes they were in the office, conveniently forgetting that many of them worked nights and weekends when a project was due. Scott had sent an e-mail saying he was going to be late this morning, but no one missed the weekly meeting, no matter what. Scott was a little nervous about what Juana would say, but there was no point in avoiding it. Of course, many people complained that they had a 7:30 a.m. Monday meeting every week. When Juana started the meeting the second week she arrived, the team knew that they were in for some changes and that the new boss wasn’t anything to be excited about.

Scott arrived at work at 9:00 a.m. As he went to put his stuff down, Bridget, another developer, looked up at him. Who died, that you missed the meeting today? Her question was serious; she worried that Scott’s excuse wouldn’t be good enough.

I had a flat tire and my spare had a flat tire—there was nothing I could do. Scott shrugged, knowing that to Juana the reason might as well have been because he felt like it. A flat tire was no excuse in her book.

Good luck, Bridget said.

Everyone knew that you didn’t cross the dragon lady. Juana had been there for three months and already she had a name and a brand. Knowing that whatever he said wouldn’t matter, Scott made his way down the hall for dragon lady’s verdict.

Come in, since you finally decided to show up. I hope your lame excuse that you had a flat tire wasn’t really the reason you’re late. Juana never looked up from her desk as Scott walked in. Scott remained silent, knowing that Juana wasn’t really looking for an answer. In the future, please get your personal problems taken care of outside of work hours. I assume you are taking a half day of PTO today since you missed this morning. Juana looked at Scott over the rim of her glasses, almost as if her having to set eyes on him was too good for what he deserved.

Scott refused to argue with Juana. As long as he had enough vacation time for his honeymoon with Jill, he was happy. If this was the worst he’d get for missing the meeting, he’d take it. Technically, I only have to take PTO if I miss four hours, and I plan to make up the time.

Juana tilted her head to the side like she was examining a foreign object that decided it could talk. Well, I understand the policy but it seems like you are missing a lot of time lately with this wedding business. I think it’s in your best interest to log your time appropriately. Scott could hear the veiled threat there. Inside he was fuming, but decided it was best to let it go. Scott could count on one hand how many hours he had missed from work and couldn’t remember how many nights and weekends he had put in to get the job done. It seemed like a nice trade that he worked tirelessly and rarely took time off, but he was starting to rethink how much time he invested in his work, especially with Cruella De Vil at the helm.

In the meeting you missed this morning, I discussed a new contract that we talked about last week. Well, we got the contract and I want you to be on this project as well as the current one you have. Any concerns?

No concerns, except with the current contract Scott worked sixty-plus hours. To get the new project off the ground, Scott would have to work another eighty hours. In between getting married—nope, no problem at all.

Actually, I’m getting married next week and the current project that I’m on goes for another two years. I’m not sure how I would manage to get everything done, Scott said, truthfully.

Well, I think that’s your problem, not mine. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off and you can come back ready to start fresh and on time? Juana looked down, completely done with Scott. She expected her mandate to be followed without question.

Well, it seems like if you want me on another project I should stay and work today to make sure I can stay ahead of the work. I wouldn’t want to be seen taking extra time on top of my wedding.

I think you need the time: you seem distracted, and again, you’re getting married. So focus on your wedding and get that behind you so you can focus on work again. I can tell you’ve been slipping and I wouldn’t want it to become a further performance issue.

Scott decided that you couldn’t argue with crazy—taking the day was just fine with him, at this point. He turned and left Juana’s office, relieved to have the meeting over with. He headed to his cube to grab his bag and coat. Bridget looked at him but didn’t say a word as he walked toward the door. Once outside Scott turned his head toward the sky and felt the sunshine soak into his skin. After five minutes with his boss he felt like the sun was returning the heat that she’d sucked out with her cold demeanor.

Walking into the dealership after only leaving an hour before, he grabbed a cup of coffee and sat to wait, reading the newspaper. Some days were just better than others, he thought.

Marie

In some ways it was a relief—well, not a relief to be caught wearing something from Fredrick’s of Hollywood by your daughter—but still a relief to have the lies out in the open. Oh, Marie wasn’t naïve, nowhere near it. By the look of horror on Jill’s face, Marie didn’t know if her daughter would ever talk to he r again.

It didn’t matter in that moment that Harold pursued her, or that she held out fighting the intense desire whenever they were in a room together for as long as she did. After Phil’s death Marie hated to admit it, but she finally felt free.

Marie had been married to Phil for twenty-one years. Phil was a good man, taking care of the family as an insurance salesman, doing quite well. Even in death he’d set them up nicely, so she didn’t have to worry about anything.

Phil, ever so worried for the family, never wanted to spend a dime. There were no presents—Christmas, birthday, anniversary, you name it. The Dane household took no vacations. Nothing was bought without a coupon, and clothes became holey, literally, before new ones were bought. Phil spent so much time trying to save every penny that they really didn’t enjoy life.

After having two kids, Phil felt that was enough and they needed to stop so that they didn’t have an economic drain on their family. Yep, that’s right, an economic drain was the term he used. After living in poverty saving two-thirds of what Phil brought home, Marie wanted to live.

She sold their home and bought a smaller house that was perfect for her and began to plan trips to places she’d only read about. It felt wonderful to learn and explore, and she wished Phil would have wanted to do those things. But even if he had, Marie was sure that the trip would have been bare-bones, with none of the glorious sites and adventures she got to take in. Marie had no regrets. While she loved Phil, she couldn’t deny she was happy for this new chapter in her life.

Turning around and grabbing her robe, as Harold grabbed his shirt and pants, Marie didn’t feel like this part of her life was fun right now. Wondering where to start and what to say, Marie contemplated if she should come fully clean.…This affair—and an affair it was—had been going on for three years.

Harold

Harold didn’t like drama. So he found it ironic that right now, he was in the midst of what he would consider the most drama he’d ever been a part of. He was also a little disappointed that they were interrupted before anything really happened—tonight, that is. Harold knew the days ahead would be filled with more drama than he’d experienced in his enti re life.

Harold also knew that he should have some type of regret, remorse for what he’d done. But he felt none. Instead, he felt an anticipation that freedom was within his grasp and that happiness was finally his.

After thirty years of marriage, Harold felt alive again.