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  Delayed Love

  By: Sandra Richmond

  Copyright © 2014 Sandra Richmond

  Cover Design By: Eden Crane Design

  Editing By: Crystal Sosa

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication:

  I dedicate this book to some very important people in my life. A few people who believed in me, my dream and my hard work. They have helped me every single step of the way.

  First, to my mother. Patricia Richmond. Who spent countless nights and days tending to my offspring so I could write. She helps way more than she should. She is my best friend. She’s my rock, my shoulder, a stern hand when I’m being a butthead. My voice of reason and wisdom when I choose to listen. Mom, thanks for popping me out and wiping my ass until I could do it myself. You are an immaculate mother and woman. I strive to be like you. You are my role model and a damn good one for all. I love you ma, thanks for everything. I love you with all my heart and soul.

  Second, to my father. Paul Arthurs. Pop, you have taught me to never give up. Even at the roughest times, brighter days lie ahead. You give me strength and courage. You taught me to drive and how to do basic maintenance on my first car. You taught me how to fish. You have taught me so much these past 25 years and there is so much more to learn. I will forever be daddy’s little girl, no amount of time will ever change that. Thanks for encouraging me and standing by me and my dreams. I love you pop, forever and ever!

  Third, My two male offspring. Connor and Hunter. Boys, mommy loves you so much that words simply cannot explain. You’re my world. My reason for everything I do. I want you to know, I will always be behind you on anything that you want to do. The sky is the limit. Behave and brush your teeth. Love you with all of my heart and soul. Connor, Do your homework. Hunter, well, try and stay out of trouble my little rebel.

  Finally, but surely not least. Michelle Turner. My sister-in-law. I know we may not be on paper any longer, but in my heart, you’ll always be my sister. There is so many things I want to say but not enough paper. Thank you so much for helping me with first book. Your opinion matters more than anyone’s. I appreciate all of the guidance you have given me and continue to give. I admire you so much, words can’t express. You’re a role model to me. I would be lost without you in my life. Thanks for everything. I love you with all of my heart, Jelly Shelly.

  Chapter One

  Harley

  How can one stupid night ruin everything? My whole bright future with promise was halted to a stop with just a moment of me thinking of becoming a woman, when really it was ludicrous to think that was the way you became a woman. Silly little stupid girl! I repeat to myself as I peer down at the faint pink lines. How could I be so stupid and reckless to take my future and veer it off a cliff without a second thought? Stupid girl! I had the world at my fingertips, and instead of exploring it and basking in all has to offer, I selfishly crush it in my palm. One night, one boy, one mistake. Ending my plans at any future I thought for myself that I craved so badly for years. All down the drain now. I promised myself I wouldn’t turn out like her; well, I hope she is happy now. Confirming her insults and abuse; I guess I proved her right. The biggest lump formed in my stomach as I thought of how it would affect my father, the one who has had nothing but love and support in his eyes every time I look at him. Tears weld in my eyes. This would devastate him. Crush him. Trying hard to swallow the lump of emotion in my throat, I have to do damage control. I have a three point eight grade point average. Surely, I can do damage control. Wiping away my tears and focusing on plans, A, B, C and D. All I can think of is by the end of the day, I may use the entire alphabet for plans. My mind is so clouded that I can barely get past plan A. I need backup. I quickly rush to my phone and text my best friend, Lissa. If anyone would have my back in any situation, she does, as I do her. We’ve been thick as thieves growing up together. Raising hell everywhere we went. From switching the sugar to salt, to moving her grandmothers knick-knacks out of place. Her grandma was big on OCD, that everything had a place. Instantly, I get a return message.

  Lissa: On my way. I got your back.

  Those four little words gave me more comfort than I could hope for. She was right. Anything that was going to happen, I could always count on her. No matter what. I have never been more grateful for our friendship until this moment.

  Waiting with my own emotional roller coaster in my head and stomach, I’m feeling like I’m going to get sick. All flowing through me, taking turns tearing me apart. Lissa couldn’t have come at a better time. She’s my lifeline, just as I was drowning in my own emotions. She flops beside me on the bed, staring at me with a worried look.

  ”What’s wrong, doll?” she asks.

  She tensed as I pointed to the bathroom. As if the test was cursed, I didn’t want to go near it. She gets up and walks into my little snug bathroom, at this time I’m glad dad gave me the room with its own bathroom. Saying. “Sweetie, teenage girls need their own bathroom.” Mom wasn’t happy, but she didn’t say anything in front of my father as she never did. She would wait for it to be her and I for her to go on her masquerades about how I won’t be better than her, and I will never be anything more than a little whore. I don’t remember a time where I actually enjoyed my mother’s company. I think she was jealous of mine and my father’s relationship. Lissa emerged from the bathroom with a pale face and looking bewildered. If I could guess, I would say I looked about the same. She looked as if it was her test and not mine. Even though, her pain was mine and mine was hers. She comes up to me and cradles me in her arms quickly getting her head together. She holds me like a fragile child as I whimper and cry into her shoulder. She shushes me, telling me. “It’s going to be alright Harley, I’m here.” The confidence poured from her voice. I could tell at that moment, she was going to be by my side no matter what the future held. It was comforting to know someone loved me even through my mistakes for all my life. Being seventeen, I was supposed to be getting ready for college, not a baby. But as all that faded and my tears fell less and less, Lissa looks down at me, compelling me to look at her. I hesitated. I didn’t want to see disappointment or pity in her eyes. I pull in a deep breath, as much as my lungs would take, and exhale while looking up at her. I see concern, confidence and strength; not a hint of disappointment or pity. That look gave me more comfort than I could ever ask for. She asks the undeniable. “Is it Ford’s?”

  “Yes.” She knew he was the only one I have been with. My first and surely my last sexual experience; with this outcome, I have sworn off sex. Sex brings trouble, pain, and life altering changes. But she needed to hear me say yes for her own reassurance. Oh God! With her asking, I have a revelation. I start babbling to her, freaking out, having a panic attack.

  “Oh my God, I have to tell him, don’t I? What if he doesn’t want it?” Furthering my panic attack, she holds me even tighter and shushed me until my breathing is at its regular pace again.

  “First, we need to get you to a doctor, make sure this isn’t a false positive. Second, we need to tell your parents.” At her mentioning of even speaking of my stupidity to them makes me want to die. She sees the worry rush over my face. She grabs my hands and looks me in the eye. “I’ll be right there with you, I won’t leave your side.” She smiles sweetly, trying to calm my nerves. It works. If anything, she was giving me the comfort I n
eeded. It was her self-assurance that makes everything seem it will be okay. As long as I have my best friend at my side, I always feel I could take on the world. Lissa and I are as different as night and day. She was edgy, where I was wholesome. She was risky, where I played it safe. She was confident, where I was not. Somehow we balance each other out. Have since we met at seven years old in the second grade. I was coloring and a little boy came and took my crayon and I told him to give it back.

  “Why should I?” he teased.

  “I had it first.” I demanded.

  He took the crayon and marked all over my paper. Ruining my art, and making me cry. Next thing I know, looking through my watery eyes, I see this little girl pushing him down and telling him to pick on someone who will show him how to be nice to girls. At her spunk, I immediately felt keen to her. I looked up to her.

  “Hi, I’m Melissa.” She hands me back my crayon.

  “I’m Harley.” Sniffling and wiping my runny nose and tears on my sleeve. Since then, we have been inseparable.

  *******************************************

  Walking into the Emergency Room, I complain of stomach pains and vomiting. It was not a complete lie. I was puking my guts up all the time now. Lissa with me, we wait for all the normal tests. Lissa plops herself down beside me on the hospital bed, making herself comfortable.

  “What?” Looking at her with an amusing smile.

  “I love you, you know that? You’re the only one that can make any situation feel not as bad as it is.” I answer her, giggling.

  “That is what I’m here for babe.” She laughs and smiles.

  I watch the TV. as she flips through the channels, complaining that there is no MTV. I laugh as the doctor walks in. My breath is held in my lungs, burning to escape. Lissa grabs my hand with a squeeze, reminding me that I’m not alone. I was hoping and praying for that false positive so badly. Knowing it was far from being that easy, I made my bed, now I have to sleep in it.

  The doctor looks at my charts then to me. “Seems you are a little dehydrated Ms. Brookes. That IV in your arm should help with the weak feeling you are having. Your iron is also low. I’ll write you a prescription...”

  As she studied my file more, I held onto the breath in my lungs. Waiting. The suspense was killing me; eating at me. Her answer to the ultimate question would seal my fate. My gut was getting painful knots in it as I shifted on the bed, impatiently waiting for her to say something—anything. I replayed everything over in my head; how my father may take it—my mother. And worst of all, Ford. How would he react, him being only nineteen? Hoping that he is mature about it. We’ve only been together a short time. All of three months. My mother would most likely laugh in my face, telling me that she knew I was nothing but a whore. She would most likely kick me out and spit in my face if it suited her. My mother’s reaction didn’t faze me as it should. Knowing the bitch she was, I only feared I was doing what she expected. For my future she was so fond of, always throwing it in my face when she could. My father’s reaction weighed heavy on my heart and soul. He was the reason I was planning a future with such high expectations. He was the one person in the world I did not want to let down or disappoint. I felt as if a brick was sitting in my stomach with thoughts that I failed him. The one person who meant the world to me. His approval was all I ever wanted, that and for him to be proud. That is why I kept my nose in the books and tried to stay out of trouble. I was picturing his broken soul as I told him of my new health condition. Health condition?

  I couldn’t even bring myself to think the word baby. Let alone say it out loud. I know I would choke on the word. Maybe I should I try. Dying of choking on vocabulary would be a first. Wouldn’t it?

  The doctor stopped my rushing thoughts. “I see here that you’re pregnant.”

  There it was. The proof that I royally fucked up. All but two words screwed up any idea I ever had of a future. Feeling lightheaded, I try to concentrate on the words coming from the doctor’s mouth about an OBGYN and the risks. I sink into Lissa, my eyes feeling heavy. Everything goes black before I could even close my eyes.

  Hearing Lissa’s voice, panic in her words, saying my name over and over.

  “Harley. Harley. HARLEY!”

  I blink open my eyes, needing to assure her I was okay. The worry in her voice dropped heavy on me, I scared her. It was hard to focus, seeing blurs of a shadow. Knowing it was Lissa, I could feel her hugging me. “You scared the holy fucking shit out of me.” The worry in her voice made me tear up. I didn’t realize I held my breath for so long. I must have made myself pass out. Feeling embarrassed, I mutter an apology to Lissa and the doctor. Lissa just wrapped me in her arms, squeezing me as if I was going to disappear before her eyes. Holding onto her for dear life, we assured each other that we were still in this together.

  *******************************************

  Sitting in the living room with Lissa and my parents, I feel my chest tighten and my palms go sweaty. I’m more than scared or worried to tell them. I’m petrified. The looks on their faces were full of worry. Well, my father’s anyway. Only Lissa knows how my mom really was; who she really was—a soulless, selfish bitch. My father showing concern in eyes, pleading for me to speak and to wash away any worry he has. I just wanted to run into his arms and plead for his forgiveness and apologize over and over. Knowing that is not reality. The damage was already done. The reality now, was that I screwed up. Life has changed drastically with two pink lines. Curse those pink lines! Despising the color pink now, I stare at my father, ignoring my mother, already knowing her feelings for me since I can remember. Lissa grabs my hand and squeezes tightly, informing she was there with me, in hell, awaiting trial for my indiscretions. Swallowing the lump in my throat, it was time to spill the beans. Here goes nothing. I stare at my father for a moment longer. Wanting to remember the way he looked now, no disappointment. Only pride in his one and only child he held on a pedestal. The fall from that high place was surely going to hurt—deep down to my soul it would. Scarring me, knowing my father would never have pride in an unwed, pregnant, teenage daughter that tossed away her future for one night with one boy. I glance at Lissa, who again squeezes my hand giving me an encouraging nod. I clear my throat.

  “Mom, Dad. I have something to tell you.”

  Mom sits there, scowling at me, like I was the last person she wanted to see. Probably won’t after tonight. Dad, bless him, looked concerned. It weighed heavy on me as if I was sinking in water and the pressure was making my lungs collapse. I blink back tears and continue forward.

  “I-I'm..p-pregnant.”

  Mom’s eyes widen. I can practically see the victory running out of her ears. I can hear her now. “Told you! You little whore. I knew it, you’d never be anything. Your father had such a blind, foolish hope for you.”

  I break from the happiness dancing in my mother’s eyes to look at my father. Nervously I search for any emotion at all in his eyes. His expression is empty. As if I had done the ultimate betrayal to him. I have. I feel lower than dirt right now. Wanting to crawl into a hole and die. Tears weld my eyes, looking at my father. Pleading with my eyes for something from him—anything. Rage? Disappointment? Anything? But, seeing nothing made the pain hit my heart worse, I’d crushed my father. I’m the shittiest daughter there had ever been! Feeling shitty, I go to get up, saying “I’ll pack my stuff. I’ll be out by tonight.”

  Looking at my father, his eyes follow me as I go to stand.

  “What did you just say?” My father says, a hint of something in his eyes. Was it sympathy? As if I deserved any. I deserve to be shunned by my father. To be banished from the Brookes family.

  “I’ll go pack my things, I’ll be out--”

  “No, you won’t Harley.” What did he just say? I wasn’t going? Or I wasn’t taking my things? My father did buy them. Surely he would let me keep my clothes. Then a quick thought hit me.

  Why? They are not going to fit in a few months anyways, get use to sweat
s and t-shirts mommy. You’re going to live in them for the next nine months.

  Mommy? What? That word sunk into my brain, giving me a sickening feeling, furthering my self-pity.

  Shaking the thought from my head, I look at my father, shocked and wide-eyed.

  “Daddy, I just want my clothes, I won’t take my laptop or anything.”

  Dad looks at me with disgust. It pained me to see that look, I never thought I’d see that expression directed toward me. That look is all for me. I felt lightheaded again. I go to steady myself on anything, fearing the black out again that happened earlier at the hospital. Lissa jumps to my side, steadying me. So thankful she was here for me. I forgot about her still being here, as if she drifted into the background. She was right at my side, helping me stand. I graciously leaned on her. Her sudden jump to my side to support me, just assured me that I was not alone in this.

  “Harley, you’re not packing anything. You will stay here.”

  “Daddy, I don’t want to see that disgusted look on your face every time you look at me. I know I let you down.” The look on my father’s face suddenly softens, surprising me. I narrow my eyes at him in disbelief, was I imagining things? Just a moment ago, he looked disgusted with me. Glancing at my mother, the sour look on her face told me right then and there that I was not imagining things. She glared at me with hatred, no less. I have done the unforgivable betrayal to all my father’s intentions for me. His guidance, his hope for me—gone. She didn’t hate me because I was pregnant, she hated me because my father told me to stay.

  “Daddy...” I couldn’t find the words to comfort him. I deserved his disgust, his disappointment. He stood, pulling me into his chest. I immediately curled into his hold, thinking I never would have been hugged by my father again. I cried into his chest as he held me tighter. Feeling his fatherly instincts, his protectiveness covers me like a blanket. I welcome it as if I was hungry for it—starved for my father’s support and love. I know I don’t deserve it, but selfishly, I held onto it as it fed my very blood pumping through my veins. I needed this. I needed him—my father, my hero.