Indestructible by Angela Graham
PTA? I’d have been slightly impressed had there been no nagging wonder if it was all for appearances.
“Did you do it in person?”
“Yeah. The lady was…a little rude.” Her face screwed up. She looked almost embarrassed.
I shook my head, eyes rolling back. “Tall, a little gut, with too-short greying hair?”
“Sounds like her.”
I laughed. “She has, like…10 children, and thinks she has all the power in that school. Did you attend the meeting last month?”
“Yeah, I saw it in the newsletter in Oliver’s book bag and thought it would be something good to check out, but the ladies were…”
“Bitches,” I finished for her.
She laughed, relaxing. “A little bit.”
“You’re an outsider to them, that’s all. It’s one massive clique there. Give it time and keep up with the newsletters to show them you aren’t going away.”
“Thanks.”
I nodded, feeling a little lighter, as well as proud that we could be amicable.
As I turned back and began walking across the room and through the kitchen, my gaze fell on a table that held stacks of framed photos. From where I stood, they all appeared to be of Oliver. I couldn’t understand how she had so many photos of him. They weren’t all recent, and there was a mixture of shots from every age.
Natasha walked forward. Noticing me staring, she lifted one of the photos from the far end of the table.
“He’s grown so fast,” she said, her eyes on the frame in her hand.
Sadness was heavy in her voice. Or was it regret? I wasn’t sure what to think as her head rose and her gaze shot over to me, a tear glistening in her dark grey eyes.
She set the frame back down, and for the first time I saw it: not a photo of just Oliver, but a family portrait, with Logan standing behind her and a newborn Oliver in her arms. Logan’s face held pride and love. He looked so young, so gentle. And Natasha looked…sad. Her smile was limp and forced as she looked down at the small bundle in her arms.
“I don’t know how to do this, Cassandra.” Her voice startled me, and my head jerked up from the photo. “I want my son to look at me the way he does his father. And Logan…” Her voice dropped.
Did I want to hear more? I didn’t really have a choice as she found her words again.
“I’ve accepted that he’s moved on—I swear I have. But for him to continue to push me away while another woman steps in as the role of mother to my son when I’m finally ready…” She closed her eyes tightly.
“Natasha, I’m not trying to—”
Her eyes flew open, a strained smile on her face. “I get it. I do. Logan has every right to hate me. But I was young, Cassandra—too young to be engaged, and way too immature to have a child. Logan…he was the perfect father. God, he was so amazing, and I...” Her voice shook. “He loved Oliver from the moment I told him I was pregnant. He worked incredibly hard to buy us a home, signed us up for every birthing and first-aid class he could find…” She huffed out a laugh, nostalgia heavy in her tone. “He never missed a single doctor’s appointment, no matter how busy his schedule got. He was always there.”
Her head and voice both lowered, tugging at my heartstrings.
“I couldn’t even stand to shop for my unborn child. Logan was so happy, and I was miserable. Once he was born, it only got worse. I couldn’t even stomach changing a diaper. I couldn’t breastfeed like Logan wanted, or stand to hear Oliver cry. His screams just…irritated me to no end,” she confessed, holding my wary gaze, trying to explain and justify her actions.
“I wasn’t good for him. Logan had this idea in his head that we’d be the perfect family, but I couldn’t do it. It was too hard.”
Her fingers dabbed under her eyes as she sniffled. I stood silently, stunned at everything she’d revealed.
Her features softened on a heavy sigh. “I know you’re being nice to me because you’re just a sweet person. I’ve heard it from everyone. You and I being friends is probably the last thing you really want, but… I can’t stand for another person close to my son to hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” I said quickly. It was true: With every emotion I felt toward this woman I hardly knew, hate was not one of them. Great dislike, perhaps, but not hate.
“Maybe not yet, but you will. Logan and Julia will fill your head. With Logan, I broke his heart—for that alone you should hate me, not to mention what I’ve done to Oliver. I want so badly to make things right. I love my son, and I’m finally able to be the mother he wants.”
I couldn’t hear anymore.
“Natasha, I’ll be honest: Us being friends is a little awkward, but mainly because I know when you came back, you still wanted Logan. And that was only a couple months ago.”
She nodded, running her fingers through her long hair. “Part of me still does, and probably always will.”
My jaw clenched.
“We share a child, Cassandra, and he will always be my first love. But I know, I really do know, that I’ve lost him, and my focus now is only on my son. He needs me, and I need him. This last month with him has opened my eyes. I want to be his mother, his mommy...but I also hope that, in time, Logan will be my friend again.”
What could I say to that? It was honest—or, at least, it felt that way.
“He will. Just give him time and show him. Prove to him that he can trust you.”
“See, you’re too sweet. I tell you I’ll always care for your man, and not only do you not attack me, but you…you give me advice.”
My shoulders shrugged, a reluctant smile growing on my face. “That’s just me. I’m not looking to make an enemy out of you, Natasha.”
“I get why he fell for you. You’re good…everything I wasn’t.”
“Nata—” I started to interrupt, but she cut me off.
“When I realized Logan had played me, sending me alone to Aspen for Valentine’s, I was furious. I planned on coming back here and telling you to back off, begging you to let me have another chance at putting my family together again. But I realized that’s not going to happen. Logan will only hate me more if I try to force you to leave him. I want Oliver, plain and simple—and he adores you.”
The apprehension in her voice broke my last thread of suspicion. My eyes closed for a moment, and I collected my thoughts before staring back at her, appraising her emotions. I couldn’t help but feel for her. For Oliver. For Logan.
“Jax said I could talk to you…that you’d understand,” she said, hopeful.
And then it happened: Something clicked inside me, and it all became clear. One single memory was triggered, and a greater understanding suddenly sat at my feet.
She was blackmailing Jax. He wanted me to be nice to her, which meant she was desperate for a way back into the West household—into the hearts of those I loved.
A performance was exactly what it felt like when I looked at it with eyes wide open. Whether I was right or wrong, I went with my gut. If she was being genuine, she’d prove it to me in time. If not, I had to give it to her—she was good.
But for Oliver, I could be better.
“I’ll try to help in any way I can.” The lie came out smoothly for the first time in my life. Hilary would be proud.
I started toward the door again. “I’m sure things will get easier. Now let’s go get that box.”
The walk down to the car was a quiet one, with me on edge. I wanted so much to believe her words, but had to assume I could never trust her.
“Muffins,” I said, breaking the silence. “Preferably chocolate ones.”
Her brows knit together as we stopped at the trunk.
“That’s the key to the PTA. You can pick them up at the grocery store, put them on a fancy platter, and bring them next month. It will get you the in you need.”
She looked thoughtful, and her smile fell. “In the papers I was given, it said no snacks were to be brought to meetings.”
I reached into the tru
It was true—most of the women would be thanking her. But the key player she needed to impress? Not so much. But I wasn’t about to feel bad. She was blackmailing Jax, and she deserved it.
But still, it nipped at me. I wasn’t an evil person, but I wouldn’t be manipulated. And if she thought of me as the weakest link in the West chain, she was in for a surprise.
“Oh, and also try wearing something a little frumpier. And no red lipstick.”
She looked down at her low-cut sweater, skintight jeans, and mile-high heeled boots.
“Just being honest. You don’t want them jealous or thinking of you as a threat, since a lot of husbands help on some projects.”
“Maybe they should.” Her smile curved into a wicked grin. “Kidding. I like my men unmarried.” She laughed.
“Right.” I chuckled, all fake and uncomfortable, not missing the fact that she’d said ‘unmarried’ and not ‘single’.
The game was officially on.
Together, we lifted the box out of the trunk—and it was not filled with pillows. If anything, it felt more like lead weights.
“What’s in here?” I asked, turning around when we stopped at the bottom of the stairs. They looked steeper than before. Cautiously, I started up backwards, placing my feet carefully. The higher we climbed, the more my grasp slipped from the corners, but I kept a firm grip.
“Logan’s sex swing.”
My steps halted and jaw dropped in shock, and before I could stop it, the box was slipping out of my hands.
“AHHH!” was all I heard as Natasha bore the weight of the box, attempted to keep her balance, then flew backward. She landed with a hard thud on the concrete and I raced down, trying to stop the box that was tumbling after her.
I was too late, grabbing hold of it just as it landed hard on her stomach. Panic gripped me as she lay there sobbing. I pushed the box over, and its contents spilled out.
To my relief and mortification, they weren’t a sex swing at all, but a collection of hardcover books.
Chapter Fourteen
Tension
There are some things in life we can’t take back, with no possible way to rewind time and do them differently. Instead, we’re forced to endure the crushing blow of regret while anxiously awaiting a chance to apologize in some vain attempt to make things right.
For me, the ripples of remorse I stomached for letting that box slip from my hands grew more unbearable the longer I waited for Natasha to speak to me. I’d ridden in the ambulance with her—not that I’d asked to, but the paramedic suggested it, and with no possible reason not to I’d climbed in.
It was over an hour later that I was sitting in a small cubicle next to an empty spot where her bed had been before they’d rolled her off to have X-rays taken.
The doctor believed something might be broken or sprained, which wasn’t surprising considering she couldn’t sit up. And as worried as I was for her, it ate at me that even though I’d repeatedly tried to explain how the box had slipped purely on accident, she was too doped up by the time we were alone in the ER to even acknowledge it. Or perhaps she was making me sweat a little by withholding the ‘It’s okay, accidents happen’ I desperately needed to hear. My guilt was unfathomable; nothing could make me feel worse.
“Holy shit!”
Jax strode through the curtain, a wide grin covering his face. “Down the stairs, huh? Gotta say, Cassandra—didn’t think you had it in you.”
I sat up in my chair, my eyes narrowed in his direction. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t seem to notice as he glanced around the room, amused. “Word travels fast in this town of yours.”
My heart nosedived into the furthest depths of the shame pool. “Does…does Oliver know?” My words were a broken whisper.
Jax cackled, his head actually thrown back at my despair. “Doubtful, but seriously, when you push someone down a flight of stairs—especially someone that deserves it—you don’t hang your head. Fucking own it! Now where is she? I’m gonna need to capture this moment.” He dug into his pocket and retrieved his cell.
“Out!” I stood, pointing to the curtain he’d entered through.
“Come on, just one pic when she gets back.”
Smug as ever. “Now!” My voice dripped with unspoken threats.
“Damn, you’re cute when you’re pissed.” He tucked his phone away and held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll go, but I can stick around a little if you want—in the waiting room, of course. I heard you hopped a ride over with her, so I guess you’ll need a ride to go get my car you left there.”
My scowl lessened, but only by a fragment. “Fine, but stay away from Natasha.”
“Sure, of course.” He began to turn then stopped and glanced back, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “But at least tell me her ass took a few licks from the pavement?”
“She’s a woman, you pig!” I spat.
“If you say so.”
“Get. Out!”
“Shit, all right, let’s go then.”
“What? I can’t leave her here.” My expression twisted up.
“Why not? You think she’d sit here waiting for you?”
“I don’t care what she’d do. I won’t leave her here alone unless she asks.”
“Your call. I’ll be around. Just text me when you’re ready.” Looking bored already, he turned and walked out.
I slouched back in the chair, my fingers massaging my temples as I waited for Natasha to return. I checked my phone, aware Logan would be looking for me and probably blowing up my inbox, but there was only one text.
At home waiting for u sweetheart
I didn’t know what to say—at least, not over text—so I slipped the phone back in my jacket pocket just as the nurse rolled Natasha’s bed back into the room. Natasha lay there half asleep, facing the other way.
I stood, concern my only emotion.
“Is everything okay?” I asked the nurse, choking on my words.
“The doctor will look over the X-rays soon and then come talk to her.”
“Thank you,” I said, then watched her begin to leave as quickly as she’d come. Feeling suddenly uneasy, I asked before she disappeared, “Did she have an in-case-of-emergency contact, or someone else that you guys notified?”
The nurse nodded. “Yes, he should be here.”
I shook my head, knowing in my gut exactly whom she’d have them call. I stopped the nurse’s steps once more.
“What’s his name?”
“Sorry, I’m not sure. I was just told someone was coming in for her.”
The nurse left, and then it was just Natasha and me in the tiny room. I paced the room, wondering if Logan and Oliver would materialize behind the curtain at any moment.
Logan, I could handle. Not that I was thrilled about explaining it to him, but Oliver…just the thought of the worry he’d hold in his bright blue eyes was too much to bear.
I never spoke a word, feeling it best to leave Natasha to sleep. After a few more strides, I sat back down and waited. I rested my head on the wall behind me and closed my eyes.
The doctor’s voice pierced the air as he walked in. “All right, well, I looked over the images.”
Natasha peeked up. “And?” she shot back, unable to control her irritation.
“Nothing’s broken, but there is quite a bruise on your tailbone. We’ll give you a prescription to alleviate some of the pain, as well as a doughnut cushion to relieve some pressure when you sit. You should be feeling good as new within about a week.”
Exasperated, Natasha let her head fall back on the pillow. “That’s it? Drugs and an ass pillow?”
“That’s all we can do.” Chart in hand, he wrote something down, then looked up and smiled. “Follow up with your doctor, and if you need anything else, we’re here. The nurse will be in shortly with some instructions, and then you can go home.”
“Right. Thanks,??
After he left, the silence returned. Internally, I debated different ways to speak to her naturally. But when nothing sounded good enough in my head, I finally just blurted it out.
“I’m so sorry, Natasha. Truly, it wasn’t on purpose. The box was so heavy, and it slipped. You have to know I’d never do that intentionally.”
With an awkward squirm, she rolled to her other side to face me, her expression hard.
I swallowed. If she wanted to, she could try and twist things around to make me look guilty. I wouldn’t let her tell lies, but even if she did, I knew Logan wouldn’t believe her over me. That small piece of knowledge was enough to keep me calm.
My eyes widened as a small, brittle smile appeared on her face.
“I know, Cassandra. Accidents happen, and I’m partly to blame. You do know I was just kidding about the sex swing, right?”
Finally, I could breathe. The tension began to fade, and her smile grew as she continued.
“When I left Logan, I only took a few things. A sex swing wasn’t one of them.”
“I know. I mean, it just shocked me, I guess, but the box…I should’ve held it better.”
As soon as she opened her mouth to speak, the curtain flew open. His back was all I saw as a man rushed past me and dropped down on his haunches beside the bed, taking Natasha’s face in his hands.
“What happened, baby? I told you I’d help you move. Why didn’t you wait?”
Natasha was unable to sit up, but she did lean forward and press her forehead to his. I stood, feeling suddenly awkward. They didn’t seem to notice me, so as I backed toward the curtain, I cleared my throat. The guy’s head snapped in my direction.
I knew him. Not well, but he was a buddy of Mark’s. All I knew was that he used to own what was now Haven, and that his name was Josh.
“Cassie, hey. What happened?” he asked.
“Um, she—” I started, but Natasha tugged on his arm, snaring his attention back.
“I’ll explain later, but it could have been worse,” she said before looking to me. “No hard feelings, Cassandra. I’ll see you around.”