3
Liv tiltedthe bottle of wine until the last drop plopped into her glass. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this relaxed. She also couldn’t remember the last time she’d drank, so there was probably a direct correlation.
Since the breakup and moving in with her grandad full-time she’d been doing her best to make healthy choices. That meant no alcohol, eating clean, exercising four days a week, and daily meditation.
Caring for her grandad was exhausting and she needed to be the healthiest version of herself to do it. But this weekend, she was off duty. And, as the great Ernest Hemingway said, “Write drunk, edit sober.”
She had just set the empty bottle of merlot down, tucked her bare legs under her oversized shirt, and returned her attention to her laptop when her phone vibrated. Her entire body tensed as she looked down at the screen. What if she needed to go home? She was definitely over the legal limit. Did they have Uber in Whisper Lake? If they did, how much would the ride cost to get back to Chicago?
When she saw it wasn’t Anna, she exhaled.
Every phone call or text message alert for the past two years had her on edge. Her grandad’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis had completely changed her life. One day all she’d had to worry about was herself, her writing, and her relationship. The next, she’d had to worry about the man who had practically raised her when her mother was busy traveling the world as a backup singer/groupie.
He was the only father figure she’d ever known. She didn’t have any real memories of her dad, who passed away when she was three. There were a few pictures of him, and her Uncle Gene and Aunt Faye talked to her a lot about him. Apparently, she’d been the apple of his eye and he’d doted on her. They liked to say that from the moment she was born, she’d had her dad wrapped around her little finger. Which was a nice thing to think about, but not something she had any emotional memory of.
Her grandad had never been overly affectionate, nurturing, or particularly parental, but he’d always been there. He’d always ensured she had everything she needed, a roof over her head, clothes on her back, and food in her belly. Taking care of him was the least she could do since he’d stepped up to raise her and continued to care for her even after her gran passed.
She didn’t recognize the number that was calling so she let it go to voicemail before pressing the triangle play button. Her body tensed again when she heard the voice of the caller.
“Hey Livy-Lu, just wanted to check in and see how you are doing. I know this weekend is going to be tough for you and I just want you to know that I’m here if you need to talk.”
She’d blocked Jordan from her phone so that meant he’d either gotten a new number or was calling her from someone else’s. Her thumb hovered over the screen. She wanted so badly to play the message again, or at least save it so she could listen to his voice later which is exactly why she’d blocked him. She was removing the temptation from indulging in unhealthy behavior.
It’s not like she missed Jordan on a daily basis, but for some reason, hearing his voice was a comfort. It was probably because it was familiar.
“Delete it,” she heard herself say out loud.
The fact that she was talking to herself didn’t support the theory that she’d been doing a lot of work on herself and was trying to make good choices. But that was actually the case.
Jordan was her past. She needed to look to the future.
She took a deep breath and swiped the message to the left so she could delete it.
Pride and a sense of “everything is going to be okay” welled up in her. Sure, it might be a little bit ridiculous that she was proud of herself for deleting a voicemail. But after the year she’d had, she’d take the small, insignificant win.
Maybe this weekend would be cathartic for her. Maybe after this weekend she’d have closure.
A loud knock sounded at the door and Liv jumped, causing her laptop to slide off her lap. She reached down to grab it when she knocked her head against the corner of the nightstand. She sucked in a loud hiss through clenched teeth as she tugged her digital lifeline back up on the bed.
Once her computer was secure, she lifted her hand to her forehead to check for blood or a bump. She didn’t feel either so she pulled up the camera on her phone to check her injury in it when the loud knock sounded again and she jumped, again, in surprise.
She wasn’t sure if it was the wine or the head injury that had caused her to forget there was someone at the door, but either way it wasn’t a great sign for her cognition.
Liv checked the time on her screen. It was almost midnight. Whoever was at the door was either a wrong number, or she guessed wrong door, or maybe the building was on fire and everyone needed to evacuate. “Coming.”
It took several attempts but she finally managed to detangle herself from the throw blanket and get off the bed only to trip on her shoe on the way to the door.
When she righted herself, she grabbed the doorknob for support and waited for a second to regain her balance before she pulled it open to reveal a Greek gladiator of a man with the face of a chiseled angel. Her eyes drank in the masterpiece before her. Light brown hair just long enough to curl up at the edges had her fingers itching to reach out and run through it. Deep brown eyes that reminded her of the chocolate river in Willy Wonka stared down at her and she wanted to dive into them. A strong jaw that looked like it was carved from stone and was peppered with stubble that screamed sexy Adonis, was set firmly in place. And then there were the lips; his lips reminded her of cotton candy that would melt in her mouth.
“Wow,” she heard herself breathe aloud.
“I’m Officer Caldwell with the Whisper Lake police department. Is that your Chevy Bel Air Coupe parked out front?”
He was so good looking that, until he spoke, she didn’t even notice what he was wearing. That’s when she looked down and her tipsy alcohol-soaked brain finally put the puzzle pieces together. He was in a policeman’s uniform.
Rasha had ordered her a stripper. Here. In Whisper Lake.
“Oh my gosh! Come inside!” She pulled at his arm, but he didn’t budge. Her fingers dug into a rock-hard bicep and the sensation had her lady parts fluttering. She ignored her swooning vagina and tugged harder as embarrassment overrode her arousal.