Twenty-Eight Dates
Author
Michelle Lindo-Rice
Reads
18,2K
Chapters
35
Chapter One
She could do this.
Courtney Meadows held back a yawn and snuck down the winding grand staircase of the mausoleum she had called home for the past year and five months. A place she would have stayed in if she hadn’t overhead her in-laws plotting against her.
After her husband, Jet, died while on duty as a firefighter, Muriel and Robert Meadows had insisted she continued to live with them. Their house was considered a landmark in Druid Hills, Georgia, and with nine bedrooms and twelve bathrooms on the property, there was more than enough room for them to spread out. At least that had been Jet’s response when Courtney suggested they get a two-bedroom apartment or purchase a condo since they were newlyweds instead of living with his parents. He reasoned he wouldn’t be worried about her while he was at work since his parents would be there to care for her.
As if she needed looking after. Courtney and her sister, Kaylin, had been taking care of themselves since they were children growing up together in foster care.
Remembering the biggest area of contention between her and Jet, Courtney gritted her teeth. He hadn’t wanted her to continue working as a mere waitress. Never mind that he had met her while she was busing tables and asked her out. They had married within eight weeks.
Since Jet lived with his parents, he banked most of his money, so Courtney could be a stay-at-home mom. When he broached the idea, Courtney suggested they wait on children—since she had never even planned to be a mom—and take a year to continue to get to know each other while she got used to the idea. But he had been insistent and so, here she was. Eight months pregnant.
Alone.
Sort of.
She yawned again and patted her round stomach, acknowledging her constant companion. A son. A son with a pair of interfering grandparents.
Courtney had been in their floor-to-ceiling library earlier that day curled up behind the chaise longue, reading a book when Robert and Muriel entered the study. As she was about to show her face, she heard Muriel utter her name in a condescending tone. Courtney then tucked her legs close to her chest so she could listen in.
Of course, her phone began to vibrate from the pocket of her bike shorts. Courtney had pressed the ignore button and held her breath for a tense second, just knowing she would be discovered. But they continued their conversation.
Muriel stood a few feet away from her. “How long do I have to smile in Courtney’s face like it isn’t her fault that Jet died?”
Courtney covered her mouth to keep from gasping. And responding. And making them aware of her presence. She squeezed her legs tight, her pulse escalating. She yearned to confront them, but she made herself stay absolutely still.
Robert poured himself a drink. “Lower your voice, dear. Our lawyer said the easiest way to get her to sign the custody papers is to play nice.”
“I can’t wait. Courtney isn’t ready to be anybody’s mom. She can barely take care of herself.” Muriel snorted. “I can’t wait to redecorate Ansel’s room.”
Courtney fought the urge to lash out. This was the same woman who had gushed to her that very morning how much she loved the gray walls and elephant theme. Courtney had spent hours choosing the furnishings and preparing the space for her son, Jayson—not Ansel.
“All in due time, dear.”
Courtney folded her lips inside her mouth to keep from screaming at the calm certainty in Robert’s voice. Like it was a foregone conclusion that they would be raising her child. Not as long as she was alive and breathing.
Muriel narrowed her eyes. “It’s a pity we can’t declare her unfit.”
Robert rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Jet did say her mother had a mental illness...”
Hot tears sprung and rolled down her cheeks. She had told Jet that in confidence. Her mother had suffered from bipolar disorder and had self-medicated with illegal drugs, which was how Courtney and her older sister, Kaylin, had ended up in foster care at six and seven years old. The girls had learned to rely on no one but each other. And Courtney had remained independent until she had fallen in love with a dashing firefighter the color of midnight.
Never again would she allow herself to be swept off her feet by a man. Especially one in uniform.
Robert held out his arm. “Let me see what Todd thinks about that.” Todd Lansing was the family attorney and friend.
With a nod, Muriel wrapped her arm around her husband. Courtney watched them depart the room.
The door clicked softly.
From within, panic rang loudly.
Uncurling herself, Courtney pulled out her cell phone to check her personal bank account. She had kept it open against Jet’s wishes. Good thing too, because she was going to have to get out of this place. In the early morning. Because even though his parents had been generous, covering all her expenses, they hadn’t given her cash. Jet hadn’t gotten around to declaring her as his beneficiary, so Todd was working on getting all that straightened out through the courts.
Or so he said. Holding on to the chaise longue, Courtney wobbled to her feet.
Todd was on the Meadowses’ payroll. And if she were being honest, Courtney had been too grief-stricken to pay attention. It had taken every ounce of strength she had to get out of bed, to eat so that her baby had the necessary sustenance to survive. As long as Jet’s son was taken care of, Courtney hadn’t been concerned about anything else.
She swallowed. She should have been.
Blinking away her tears, Courtney focused on the small screen. She had $237.41. If she took food from the pantry and used rest stops instead of a hotel, that should be more than enough to take her from Druid Hills, Georgia, to where Kaylin lived in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Her sister worked on a cruise ship and was away at sea, but Courtney knew where Kaylin kept a spare key.
All through dinner that evening, it took all her self-control not to show her hurt. Not to show how disgusted she was at their false concern. But she had done it. She had forced herself to eat a small portion of her lasagna, garden salad and garlic bread, nodding and smiling like she was clueless. She had even insisted on taking a picture with her in-laws under the guise that it was for her baby album. Courtney wanted to have photos to share with Jayson when he was an adult. He deserved to know his background, and she wouldn’t hold that information from him once he was old enough to understand. But that was years away. Right now, she had to focus on the day-to-day. Her and her baby’s survival.
After dinner, Courtney had packed a lunch bag and stuffed a small duffel bag with a few outfits along with her laptop. Then she had donned a pair of black jeans, T-shirt and sneakers. Tucking her curls under a cap, Courtney waited until it was close to four in the morning, setting the alarm on her phone as a backup. Robert was a night owl. She wanted to be sure he was in bed before exiting this place for good.
For a split second, standing in the grand foyer, cell phone in hand, Courtney hesitated. She was close to the end of her term, and her eyelids were heavy with sleep. Maybe she should wait until she delivered before traveling. Then she stiffened. She wouldn’t put it pass the Meadowses to take her baby while she recuperated from giving birth. They had strong political clout, and to put it simply, she couldn’t trust them not to do something underhanded.
No, it was best if she left for Florida now in the wee hours of the morning. When they were sleeping. By the time they awakened, she would be long gone.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, she placed a hand over her pounding heart. Regardless of their nefarious intentions, the Meadowses had lost their only child. Courtney knew they cared about their grandchild. It would gut them to be excluded from Jayson’s life. But these were the same people who had no qualms about snatching him away from his own biological mother.
She squared her shoulders and ambled toward the alarm by the front door. Her sneakers made squeaking sounds on the marble floor. With a slight tremor in her hands, she rested her cell on the entry table, keyed in the code and opened the front door, tensing at the chime. Slipping outside, she locked the door behind her and wiped her brow.
Whew.
The crickets and cicadas’ night song this first week of June was a crescendo in her ears. Remembering the tiny frogs that liked to hang like a garland on the side of the house, Courtney cringed, hunched her shoulders and trotted down the three front steps before dashing into the dark to the right. The muggy summer morning made her crave the cool central air of the house behind her.
Entering the garage, she beelined for her twenty-year-old sedan nestled in the corner, an eyesore compared to the five other premium vehicles inside. Robert had insisted she drive the Range Rover, and Courtney was glad she had begged them not to junk her trusty Kia. Despite the dings and scratches, it had been her ride for five years, her second vehicle now at thirty-one and the first she had paid for with her own money. Unlocking the passenger door, she placed her duffel and lunch bag on the seat before darting to the driver’s side.
Courtney adjusted her seat to accommodate her expanded tummy and started up the car. She tossed her cap off her head, her tendrils damp against her face, then took a moment to bask in the blast of the air conditioner before putting the car into gear.
Keeping the headlights off, Courtney crept down the gravel on the driveway, her pace slow, her heart thumping with the precision of a drummer boy. As soon as she turned out of their property, Courtney turned on the lights and accelerated.
Pumping her fists, she yelled, “We did it, Jayson!” A fierce kick made her stomach jump, and Courtney smiled. Patting her stomach, she said, “You feel it too, little guy, don’t you? Freedom. Wait until you’re out of there. Then we’re really going to celebrate.”
With each mile, her worries melted away like an ice pop in the sun. Her neck muscles relaxed, and the tension oozed from her body. A tension she must have been carrying around for the past seven months following Jet’s death. She hadn’t realized how constricted she had been. How...constrained. Courtney straightened, anticipation injecting energy into her being. She was now wide awake. She couldn’t wait for the sunrise, for the first glimpse of a new day, a new beginning. A new life with her son.
