Forever Starts Today Chapter 12 & What the... Pictures!
phishfood1301:
~side note~ Story will appear whenever I have time. My sister had her baby. 2 infants and one big baby in the house do not make it easy for good writing.
My job is also keeping me busy soooooooooooooo.......
Here it is:
Now:
I still remember the phone call. Marie my sixteen year old little sister crying. I calmed her down. She was repeating
“I hate New York. I hate New York!” I figured one of the friends she made their ratted on her partying to dad. She finally told me what was wrong after fourteen minutes on the phone. “I’m pregnant.” She said as if she was telling me I had cancer. I dropped the phone. It clanked against the carpet in my office. I grabbed the puppy pillow that sits in the corner with the toy box and coloring table and screamed. Marie could hear this.
“Lilith, please, pick up the phone.” I picked the phone off the floor. It’s a miracle it’s lasted so long.
“I’m coming to see you.” I said as I hung up. I practically ran over the Langstons, who were coming in for 7:15 appointment. It was the only time that Mr. Langston could come.
“Hello Dr. Gross, where finally here as a family.” Mrs. Langston said a little to chipper. According to their daughter Kayla that meant she was drunk.
“Hello, Good-bye.” I said as I rushed passed them.
“Hey wait!” Kayla said as I power walked out of the hallway. Marsha, my receptionist and secretary tried to stop me as I head towards the door. “Hello? You have 3 more patients today. Where are you going?” She said with attitude. “Indiana. Send them home, no charges I’ll be back whenever.” I ran to my BMW and started driving. It occurred to me when I was about to enter Kentucky I should call my girlfriend Dot to tell her I’ll be out of town. It also occurred to me that I didn’t bring anything but what I was wearing and determination. Dot answered the phone with her usual “Yo?”
“Hey Dot, It’s me.”
“Oh, where the heck are you it’s 11 something.”
“I’m in Tennessee, now Kentucky.”
“Why? Oh don’t tell me you’re going there!” Last time I brought Dot to meet the folks they nearly shot us both for holding hands. We had an agreement not to go back.
“This time it’s different, it’s for Marie. Besides you’re not coming with me.”
“But I’ll be lonely!” Dot said in her playful tone.
“Buy an ant farm.” I joke.
“Okay. I’m going to get a tattoo do you think it should have two flowers or one?” She said very seriously.
“I think your going to chicken out. What kind of flowers?”
“I have no idea! I think maybe….”
She rattles on about the types of flowers she know. I think about how different we are. She’s a “cocktail waitress” aka stripper who’s only time on a college campus was frat parties. I’m a PhD with a doctor degree in psychology with successful practice making money hand over fist. But I’m not nearly good enough for her. She’s funny and playful, sometimes wild. She runs through the fountains at Centennial Olympic Park, dances in her underwear all over our apartment and will even answer the door like that. She doesn’t have much “Knowledge” but she has “Wisdom”. I’m all knowledge and no fun. I’ve learned to be this way and it’s hard to change back.
I’ve never told her about my past. She’s thinks my teen years were spent with Col. Gross in New York City. That’s partly true. A week after Dylan’s death I moved to New York to live with the Colonel. And Lived with him till I was 18 and then dad asked me back to Indiana, were I attend Indiana University were he taught. After a few years I was fed up of him and the town so I headed back to New York and went back to living with the Colonel and went to Yale and the Colonel paid for everything. It’s a family joke where the Colonel got his money. He spent his working years in the army and then retired. The army doesn’t pay nearly how much he had.
It’s 4:29am when I pull into the familiar driveway. “He” is there, probably just got in from working an extra shift at the police station.
“Hello Lilith! What the heck are you doing here?” He asks jokingly.
“Family emergency.” I say as I walk up the steps.
“Are you going to be here for a while? We can get caught up with each other’s lives!” He calls after me. I enter the door. The same dirty gray carpet. The same yellow walls. The same beer cans and chips all over the floor.
Some one screams “Who’s there? I’m calling the police!” I laugh and say
“It’s Lilith. Is no one going to greet me?” Dad’s on the couch, undisturbed by the yelling. A few lights click on. Meg, Lindy, Angie and Marie come out of their rooms. “What the heck are you doing here? At 4:30 in the morning?” Meg, always the rude one asks.
“I’m here for a visit. Can’t a girl come home at a strange hour?”
“Is she with you?” Angie asks.
“No, Dot didn’t come. Marie, come see my new car.”
Marie and I rush out the door before anyone can say anything. She begins to sob and I hold her. I tell her “Everything will be just fine. I’ll help you.” And I wonder if I can make it so.
Then
No good movies are out. Besides I’ve already seen them. I wander around town. I look at all the shop keepers taking down Christmas stuff. I head over to Paulie’s Music Shoppe or PMS as it’s commonly known. Paulie is always mad about something. Last time it was his car wasn’t as cool as Tony Chestnut’s, a local hotshot. But when I’m in there he’s always talking about how I should get over the “oldies”. I like Bob Dylan; he thinks that’s the “oldies”. Paulie’s probably about 46 and he’s talking about oldies.
“Hey.” I say as I enter.
“I don’t think I have any NEW oldies.” Paulie says sarcastically. I ignore him and head to the classical junk. But the baby book says it’s good for the baby.
“Whoa, what’s with the grandma music?”
“Just looking.” I don’t feel like talking.
The bell rings as some one enters the store.
“Daddy!” A teen girl squeals. She looks about 18, and has black hair. She looks like Paulie. Same homely features.
“Hannah Banana! How are you?” Paulie says happily. They hug, it’s and awkward hug. Like one a father should give his daughter.
“Daddy I’m engaged!” The girl holds out her boney left hand. Paulie gasps.
“Lilith, Come and see this ring! It’s HUGE!” Paulie motions towards me. I walk over.
Hannah Banana sees my face and goes pale. I look at the ring.
“I know that ring!” I mumble.
“Are you L…Lilith Gross?” Hannah stutters.
“Yeah, and that’s David’s grandmother’s ring.”
“David’s my fiancé.” She says defiantly.
“And my baby’s father.” I say as I pull back my jacket revealing my belly.
Paulie just stares at my belly. Hannah shows no emotion.
“I know. We’re going to raise it. You’re an unworthy mother.” She says coldly.
“Oh yeah, bitch? What gender is it?”
“Um…a…um…It doesn’t matter! I’ll be ten times the mother you could be!”
“You’ll never have my kid! He’s mine! You can’t have him! I’m caring him for nine months, nursing him, changing his diapers, and raising him all by myself! You don’t care about Dylan! He’s just a toy to you! Wait till you get pregnant…which you will. David will drop you like a rock! He’s a bastard!”
“No, your dumb baby is the Bastard!”
“I’m leaving!” I say as I leave. I run home with tear filled eyes. Mrs. Bruce is unloading groceries.
“Lilith are you alright?” She asks as I run by and she grabbed my arm.
“I just met some one name Hannah. She says that she and David are getting married and Taking Dylan from me!” I cry out in one big sob. Mrs. Bruce tries to hug me.
“No. Is it true?” I yell
“Yes.” Mrs. Bruce sighs. I run into my house.
arielle22:
Good story so far
I cant wait to read the rest or see some pics
Misskitz:
Oh wow. This story is...amazing! I can't wait for the next chapter!
phishfood1301:
thanks everyone!
phishfood1301:
~mini update~
Now
Marie’s room was my room. She hasn’t changed it since I left. Probably hasn’t dusted either. Marie is sleeping. I’m wide awake on the floor. The sun is peeping out of the drapes. I grab some of Marie’s clothes and change into them. The pants fit fine but the shirt hangs on to me like a mid drift. I use some of Marie’s makeup. I look okay for staying up all night. I go to the basement and dig out some of my old sneakers. I decide I’m going for a run. I walk out the door. David is on his porch with a cup of coffee. He waves.
“Hey Lilith!” He calls to me.
“Hello David.” I say coldly.
“Hey can you come into the station to clear up some paperwork?” He asks as he approaches.
“Can it wait?”
“No. I’ve been sending letters to you for months. It needs to be cleared up now. Why didn’t you respond to letters?”
“You see, whenever you send me stuff I just throw it away. Saves time.”
“Come on, don’t make me beg.”
“Okay, whatever. I need to change, or grab a jacket.”
“Okay. Met me here in five minutes.”
“Sure.”
I run again to the basement and grab my Yale sweatshirt. It smells funny put that’s because it been sitting in the basement for years. I grab some of Lindy’s perfume that she sells for “Mary Kay” and spray it on the shirt and me.
“Okay, here’s the just of it.” David explaining to me. “What’s his name death was listed as a homicide, by some crazy nurse named Betty Walden. I need you to tell the truth and say it wasn’t.”
I laughed. “Sure. I’ll tell the truth.”
“Lil, I’m serious. I’ve been working desk for months because Nurse Betty named me as the murderer.”
I watch the town go by as we head towards the center. It hasn’t changed much, yet it has. I look for familiar faces. None. Zip. Zero. Nadda. He stops at a light.
“So, How’s um…what’s her name?” David asks making small talk. I don’t feel like talking to him.
“Great.” I grimace. “How’s Hannah?”
“Oh, Great. We’re thinking of adopting. Since you know…” He smiles.
“Is this the part were I’m supposed to feel guilty?” I ask mockingly.
“Actually, yeah. It’s your fault. If you hadn’t…”
I interrupt him, “Remember to watch your mouth. You’re asking me a favor which I owe you none.”
“You know Lilith,” He says as he pulls into the police station. “You’re a real bitch.”
“Thanks, you’re a murder.” I smirk. I walk into the police station. Same leaky roof, I notice as I walk in, just as I remember it.
Then:
“Typical Indiana winter.” Dad grumbles as we search for my snow boots in the closet. “You better not be late again.” He angry remarks when he hands me my boots.
“Yeah, yeah.” I say as I lace them up. I’ve decided I’m not pregnant, just abdominal challenged. That’s what I told my over-worked school counselor. He didn’t buy it.
“Miss Gross that is not funny.” He scolds in his British accent that he’d picked up over the winter vacation.
“Neither is your accent, but who’s complaining?” I reply mockingly.
“Miss Gross I’d like you to consider your options…” He continues talking till I just get up and leave. I’m good a leaving, or should I say running away. Whenever things get too difficult I leave.
End of part one
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