Page 33 of Waiting for Acceptance
“I wish I knew, babe. I really do.” Ruby gives me a sympathetic look and pulls me tighter for one last hug, then we rush over to Leah’s mom’s house.
It’s not fair.
Allen was a great man—an amazing father and husband. He loved me, Shane, and Taylor like we were his and Loretta’s own children, he always helped others in need and had a way of mending Leah’s broken heart when no one else really knew how to.
They deserved more time with him.
Leah has been unreachable since his funeral, and it’s caused a panic within my heart that I can’t shake. We know she’s home because we still have her location and her car hasn’t left her driveway, but she’s in pain and she’s choosing to suffer alone, and it’s taking everything in me to let her. Not only did she lose her dad, but she lost the guy she’s in love with—again. By choice or not, that’s got to be hard.
She shouldn’t be alone right now. Which is why the cavalry is standing outside of her door with coffee in hand, praying that she’ll let us in.
Knock knock knock.
We wait a few beats then I hear the vague sound of something sliding on the other side of the door.
“She hasn’t responded to any of our texts. We don’t even know if she’s alive at this point.” I know it’s dramatic, especially since I just heard her on the other side of this door—I think.
“She’s grieving, it’s a lot to endure—especially by yourself.” Shane tries to reason with me, but I’m not having it.
“Exactly! She shouldn’t be alone. We should be in there with her.” Shane sighs and leans closer to the door.
“Leah. Sweetie, we wanted to check on you. We don’t have to stay or anything, but can you just let us know you’re okay?” I frown a bit when she tells her we won’t stay because I’m so close to breaking into her house and planting myself in a corner somewhere so I can keep an eye on her, it isn’t even funny. My heart is pounding harder with every second she doesn’t respond. I just need to hear that sweet, assertive voice of hers.
“Le, baby girl. I’m about five seconds away from busting down this door. Please. Just any sign of life? Knock once if you need us and twice if you’re okay but want us to leave.”
Please knock once.
Knock. Knock.
I sigh in relief anyway, knowing she’s there and that she’s heard us. She knows she isn’t alone, and that when she’s ready we’ll swoop in and be there for her.
I look around and I’m the first to sit down on the small step by the door, sipping on my coffee as the others follow suit. We stay for a while, enjoying the spring breeze as we occupy her front porch. Tennessee is finally starting to kick out the bitter cold and get little hints of warmer weather, which is always my favorite time of year. I roll my head along the sturdy wooden door, imagining what things look like on the inside.
Has she been eating? Has she showered? Does she have enough toilet paper and tissues? I wonder if Sawyer has come to check on her. I’ll kick his ass if he hasn’t. Big burly idiot.
When all of our coffees are empty, we nod in agreement that it’s time to go. After they all say theirI love you’sand walk down the front porch steps, I press my forehead against the door and sigh.
“I love you, Leah. You’re so much stronger than you probably think you are right now. You’ll get through this, I promise andwe’ll be right here when you’re ready to open the door.” I tap the door gently, then head down the stairs. Knowing tonight is a dinner I’d give anything not to go to.
“So sad about Allen,” my mother says, taking a sip of her wine.
“Mm, very.” My father barely looks up from his food to respond as anger simmers in my chest.
“Loretta looked absolutely dreadful at the funeral, did she not?” I look on in disbelief at the absolute gall.
“As opposed towhat, Mother?” I snap.
“Excuse me?” She looks up at me, a completely clueless look on her face.
“How is a woman who’s just lost her husband supposed to look? Radiant? Flawless? Slightly distressed? Only needing to dab away a bit of smeared makeup but otherwise composed?”
“Lauren,that’s enough,” my father warns, but I could care less what he thinks is enough.
“No, Dad. It’s not. The woman just lost her husband, her best friend, her soulmate. Of course she looked dreadful, she’sgrieving. Should we expect no tears whatsoever from you when Dad goes? Will you care more about how you look at his funeral than the thought of him never coming back home?”
My father drops his silverware on his plate. “Lauren Long, that isenough.”
“You know, I actually agree with you this time.” I stand up so quickly my chair almost falls over, and look at my parents. “I hope someday I find someone that loves me the way Allen loved Loretta. Someone I couldn’t imagine losing because they make me feel the way he made her feel. They had an admirable love,and she’s just lost the other half of that love. Shame on you for speaking ill of her appearance, Mother. I hope your next round of Botox fails you the way you’ve failed me.” My mother’s face goes stone cold.
