An Unexpected Turn Read online

  Table of Contents

  Part 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Part 2

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  An Unexpected Turn.

  Copyright © 2019 T.J. Fox

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents, and places are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-7338989-0-4

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-7338989-1-1

  Editing by Stephen Parolini | http://www.noveldoctor.com/

  Cover photo by T.J. Fox

  Cover design and interior formatting by Streetlight Graphics | https://www.streetlightgraphics.com/

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  For Keith

  For being my foundation and never blinking at whatever crazy path my muse takes me on. And for coffee. My world would be bland and colorless without you.

  Part 1

  Chapter 1

  “I know, Jules. I’m keeping my expectations in check this time.”

  I love her, but sometimes knowing someone since we were both young enough to hate nap time and love getting to ride the bus to school with the big kids gives us a little too much insight into each other. She knows all my flaws and quirks and buttons and doesn’t hesitate to poke at them when she thinks I need it. I do the same for her, but since she and Russ have been together for over a decade, I don’t often get the chance.

  Jules Kelly, now Dayton, has been my best friend since the first day of kindergarten when she tripped Kevin Baker for laughing at me when I fell down on the playground at recess. She’s had my back ever since, and I’ve shared every secret a girl could ever have with her, including the sad little crush I developed on the same Kevin Baker in second grade. Luckily, that only lasted until I saw him picking his nose in the back of music class a few days later.

  She was there for me through all the ugly that was my family growing up. It was incredibly quiet and lonely with me pretty much growing up on my own. My parents were wrapped up in their own world, one that didn’t include me. You learn pretty quickly to do things for yourself when the adults in your life don’t realize or don’t care that you still need them.

  I was a chess piece, used by my mother to get what she wanted: my father. She was his secretary but wanted the ring instead, so she got pregnant with me to get that. After my purpose was served, I became a burden and an obligation to be dealt with rather than a child to be loved. When he decided during my junior year of high school to trade up to a newer, younger version of my mother, he took off and never looked back. My mother stuck around out of some weird sense of obligation until I graduated college. After that, she found herself another husband and conveniently forgot she’d ever even had a child in the first place.

  Jules, happily dragging the rest of her family along with her, became my family long before mine crumbled. When my mom forgot about the second grade Mother’s Day breakfast, Jules sat me at the table with her and her mom and told everyone we were sisters. Her mom never missed a beat and played right along.

  Where my parents dropped out of my life so easily, Jules and her family held on, softening the blow of my loss. They showed me what love and family meant, and they did so not just because Jules wouldn’t have it any other way but also because that is just the kind of people they are. Russ was pulled into the fold when they got together in high school. We are so far into each other’s lives that you couldn’t separate us with a scalpel. Her second-grade declaration of sisterhood became as real as if we actually shared blood.

  Reminding myself of all the reasons I let her poke like this isn’t helping me dig through my closet to find the outfit for tonight. I don’t want to feel overdressed as usual. This is supposed to be casual, but I like things that move and flow. Casual rarely makes it into my wardrobe, and I am not a t-shirt and jeans kinda girl. I don’t have time to weed through clothes I forgot I even had. What was I thinking when I bought that? Halloween costume? It’s the only rational explanation I’m willing to admit to. I push it aside looking for something that falls a little lower on the horrible scale.

  “Teri, I know you. You go out once or twice with a guy, and you can’t help but start painting the picture of your future with him. Sure, sometimes that helps you to see how bad that idea is right off the bat, but, more often than not, you get in deep, really fast and, I’m left to hunt down the Tin Roof Sundae, the movie du jour and a mega tissue box that could supply a third world country for a year.” Sparks, the Dayton’s adorably annoying Maltipom, is in the background yipping at something. Probably thought his tail was attacking him again.

  I toss yet another impractical top aside and consider my jeans. They look good, but comfort was not in the design specs. Frustrated and running out of time, I toss the jeans on the bathroom counter, grab a favorite semi-fitted, flowy knit top and finally work on getting changed.

  Needing to derail Jules from starting one of her longer tirades, I joke, “You enjoy our tissue fest nights. Admit it. Since you married the first man you met, you have to get your emotional dating roller coaster fix somewhere. I’m here to serve up all the drama you can handle.”

  I get a small laugh before she goes serious on me again. “I love spending time with you, not seeing you get hurt over and over again. I understand why you tend to do this. You know I do. I just worry. You have such a huge heart. Sometimes you are a bit too quick or too ready to hand it over to someone who isn’t capable of taking care of it, is all.” The phone gets muffled, and I hear her yell for Jorie to grab Rusty before he paints Sparks with the sidewalk paint, then mumbling about needing to find where Russ is hiding.

  My godchildren are awesome. Jorie thinks that being seven means she gets to be mini-mom to her three-year-old little brother Rusty. I love and cherish my godmother duties and play days, getting to watch them grow and blossom and be their silly, wild kid selves. I wouldn’t change that for the world, but I get to return them back to Jules. She has the patience of a saint. She puts up with their crazy, everyone is still in one piece and living, and she is still mostly sane. While I envy the idea of her life, I’m kind of glad it isn’t my everyday reality. I love kids and would give anything to have them at some point in my life, but I’m far from ready to have to deal with even a fraction of what Jules does on a daily basis.

  My priority right now is growing my photography business. Thinking about something that most likely will never happen for me doesn’t do me any good. I try to keep my focus on what I can control, not what I can’t. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, maybe you’ll believe it someday.

  Reining in the useless mind wander and shaking off
the mood killing thoughts, I tune back into what I was saying. “This one feels different. I’m not planning a wedding, but… you know we’ve been out several times already, and he hasn’t attempted to get me into bed yet. When was the last time a guy made it past the first date before he got handsy or made it clear he had expectations after having paid for dinner, let alone one that actually wanted to get to know something about me besides the color of my underwear? Or what about that guy that genuinely thought that I’d support him while he focused on his ‘art’ just because I own my own business and home? On the first date!? I want a relationship that is about more than just sex, even great sex. I want what you and Russ have, and I’d rather stick to coming home to an empty house than to settle for some shallow husk of a relationship. That hasn’t changed.”

  Keeping the phone crammed between my shoulder and the side of my head while hopping around on one foot trying to get out of my pants may take more coordination than I have. After nearly dropping the phone for the third time, I realize I need to hurry up. I need to get this poke-at-all-my-sore-spots-pep-talk wrapped up.

  “Dylan is different than what I’m used to with other guys. I told you the other day that I was a little concerned this wasn’t following some normal track. Whatever that is. But I’m liking it this way. He’s interesting. Every time we’ve gone out, it has been all about getting to know each other and having fun. He’s attentive. He remembers the little things, like how I take my coffee, and that I prefer to drink water with a meal. We’ve even talked about art and my photography in a way that shows he’s genuinely interested and not just asking because it’s expected conversation. You know how boring I can be when I get revved up about what I do, but he doesn’t seem bored. He makes me laugh, Jules. So, yes. I like spending time with him. Is he the one? I have no clue, and I’m not thinking about that. I’m just enjoying our time hanging out.”

  I’ve wiggled my ass into my jeans and still need to get my top on, but that isn’t happening until I’m off the phone, so I work on tossing on a bit of mascara and eyeliner. I still have to do something with my hair. A quick ponytail will have to do, even if it feels lazy.

  The sigh Jules lets out tells me she is done with the poking for now. “You know that I only worry because I want the same thing you do, to find your Russ. What are you guys doing tonight anyway? And when do I get to meet him to pass along… or not… my seal of approval?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I don’t even know if he’s interested in a relationship or is just looking for a friend to hang with. I get the impression he doesn’t have a lot of those and is excited by what we have going on. We haven’t had any conversations about defining it as anything. Maybe I’ll suggest doing something with you guys and just go from there. I’ve talked enough about you that he knows you’re my family.”

  Makeup done, I put on a silver cuff bracelet with some delicate looking vine work surrounding a large white-and-black-veined purple stone. The matching pair of earrings go on next.

  “That said, I’m not too worried about him getting your approval. He would pass your character test for how someone treats kids and animals. Dylan talks about his younger brothers and sister all the time. I haven’t met them, but it’s impossible to miss how much he cares when he talks about them. He just lights up every time they come up in conversation. Pretty sure you are going to like him for that alone.”

  Still trying not to drop the phone, I dig around in the bottom of my closet looking for my sandals. Shoes tend to go wherever they want once I get them off my feet, and they aren’t where I thought they would be.

  “As for tonight, I’m meeting him at his place because he has some last-minute things to take care of before we can go out. Beyond that, I’m not sure. We talked about a couple of options, but never finalized anything. Dinner for sure. I’m going to see if he is up for trying the new Japanese restaurant that’s out by his place.”

  More muffles are coming from Jules’ end. “You stop right there, mister! Why on Earth do you have the whipped cream? No, you can NOT shampoo the dog with it! Teri, I’ve got to run before someone gets killed or goes bald. Go have fun and call me tomorrow to let me know how things went. We can talk about getting to meet him later. Dammit! Russ! Grab your son before I have to repaint the living room! Again!”

  By the time she is done yelling, I’m nearly laughing too hard to respond, let alone finish getting ready. “Will do! Go grab your kid. Love ya, Jules!”

  “Love ya! Bye!”

  Where the hell did I put my sandals? A quick glance at my phone shows I should have left five minutes ago. I grab my shirt, trying to squirm into it as I head out of my bedroom, looking in all the usual areas I tend to leave things along the way. I finally see one of the pair poking out from under the couch and kneel down to look for the other, only to find a rabid dust bunny that triggers a sneeze attack from hell. While bouncing my head off the underside of the coffee table in the middle of the sneeze attack, I spot the hiding sandal. Finally, after five minutes of battling seriously watery eyes and a makeup touch-up, I am sandal-footed and ready to go.

  Ten minutes late, I manage to rush out the door and make it to the car only to realize I’ve left my keys inside. Back inside, keys and purse in hand (because of course the keys aren’t the only important thing I managed to forget), then back out. Again. I’m finally on my way to Dylan’s place.

  Between running behind and the conversation with Jules, I’m left feeling off and out of sorts. If the last hour is any indication, this date may not go as well as the previous ones. It feels like I’m swimming against the current just to get there.

  Chapter 2

  The normally forty-minute drive only takes a little over thirty, so I gain back some time and only end up being a few minutes late. I haven’t been to Dylan’s before. All the times we’ve gone out, we have just met up somewhere and then gone home separately.

  I park on the street in front of the house. It’s a smaller neighborhood like mine, but it doesn’t look as well kept. Several of the houses need some work, and a few look like no one even attempts to take care of the yard. It isn’t a bad neighborhood, just a little tired.

  Dylan’s house is nicer than the others, but his yard is at least a week overdue for a mowing. It’s a ranch-style house with red brick on the lower half and a faded tan siding on the upper part. The front porch is a few steps up from the walk path and is just a small square of bricks set in front of the door.

  Before I even make it to the porch, Dylan has the door open and is watching me climb the steps. His normally neatly styled, silky dark brown hair is mussed as though he has been running his hands through it, and his dark lashed gray eyes look tired, his brows lightly scrunched over the bridge of his nose.

  “Hey! Sorry I’m late. Jules caught me in the middle of getting ready, and it took me a bit to get her wrapped up.” I finish climbing the steps, and he leans in to kiss my cheek as he takes my hand to pull me inside.

  “No problem. I still have a few things I need to take care of before we can head out. Come on in. My brothers and sister are inside. I hope you don’t mind meeting them. I’ve got to get Riff to soccer practice and run by the bank before I’m free.”

  “Um. Sure. That’s fine.” A little heads up would have been nice.

  He had told me that he spends a lot of time with his siblings, but this takes me by surprise. He didn’t mention he’d be hanging out with them today. We have rescheduled dates before so he could spend time with them. I don’t know why today would be different.

  The door opens into the living room where a teenage boy is off to the side kicking a ball between his feet. Riff, I assume from the soccer practice comment. A younger girl is in a chair on the left, digging through a backpack.

  Another boy that looks to be about Jorie’s age is sitting on the floor in front of the couch with a huge bag of candy in his hands and is chowing down like it’s the last food
on the planet, and someone is threatening to steal it from him.

  I don’t notice any similarities with my first quick glance. They look nothing alike.

  “Guys, this is Teri. Teri, the one over there with her head in her backpack is Simone.” Dylan nods in her direction.

  Simone glances up and gives a little wave before going back to digging. She’s got a soft strawberry blond, peaches and cream thing going on with freckles sprinkled across her nose like confetti.

  He points to the younger one on the floor. “The one stuffing his face is B-Rad.”

  Puzzled, I turn to look at Dylan. “Sorry. What? I’ve heard you say his name before, but I think I heard it wrong. Is it Brad?” I have always wondered if it was a nickname or if he just had a weird way of saying it.

  He chuckles. “B-Rad. His real name is Boo Radley, but it gets old explaining my mom’s obsession with old books, movies and music every time we have to introduce him, so we shorten it to B-Rad. To Kill a Mockingbird was one of my mom’s favorite books. Simone is named after Nina Simone, and that one over there with the ball is Riff, from West Side Story.”

  “So, that makes you…?” I raise my brow in question.

  He grins, but it barely reaches his eyes. “Bob Dylan. Yup. It’s kinda crazy, but we all eventually learned to like our names.”

  “Hi, guys.” The awkward wave I give goes unnoticed.

  Riff doesn’t acknowledge that anyone even came into the room. He has a darker complexion than the other three, suggesting Hispanic or even native ancestry, with dark brown, almost black shaggy hair and eyes that look equally dark but are mostly blocked by the hair. He just keeps pushing the ball between his feet as if there isn’t anyone else around.

  As adorable as B-Rad is with his sandy, dirty blond mop and cheeks still a little rounded with baby fat, he is starting to look a little green around the gills. He doesn’t stop inhaling whatever is in that bag other than to mumble a brief “Hi.” I’m surprised Dylan hasn’t stepped in and cut off the candy flow before now. If Jules allowed Rusty to eat that much, she’d either have one seriously nasty mess to clean up or some demon-like Energizer Bunny on crack to deal with. The results would not be pleasant either way. I can’t imagine it would be any different for this kid either since he looks to be going with door number one.