The hot stream of water pulsing on my back feels so relaxing. I hadn’t realized until just now that my arm and lower back also have bruises. I thought I had only whacked my hip. I must look like a spotted leopard. My scalp hurts, too, from Gary’s yank on my hair when he picked me up to place me back onto the crate. Water is so therapeutic, unless it’s forcefully piercing stitches on one’s face. Ouch.
Toweling off is a slow process with a pregnant belly and injuries, but I carefully pat each part of my body, taking my time and making sure not to press too hard on a bruise or stitch. I throw my towel over the chrome towel rack next to my bathtub and tell myself to take a hot bath later today. The bubbles will be healing.
My elastic-waist maternity jeans work well with my purple V-neck T-shirt, which accentuates my eyes. I grab my silver Tory Burch necklace and silver pearl earrings to show off my expert makeup cover job. A glide of pink lipstick and push of my toes into my black suede ballet flats, and I’m as good as new.
Heading down the stairs, I hear Kyle talking to Misty. I stop where I am, waiting on a step, so I can listen. “Aunt Misty, is Mommy okay? I saw she cut her face. I know she’s been sad lately, and I don’t know why. Is she mad at us for something we did? I try not to fight with Morgan, but he gets me angry sometimes.”
“Oh, heavens no, Kyle! She has been so happy with you. She is upset because the baby is tossing and turning in her sleep and wakes her up, so maybe she’s just cranky.”
“Really?” Peeking through the banister, I see Kyle’s face. It looks as though Misty’s story worked.
“I know she’s not mad at you, because I’m her best friend and your aunt, and she would definitely tell me. You would be the first to know, because you are my secret buddy, right?”
That answer seems to have satisfied Kyle, because he retreats to the living room, appearing fine. Thank goodness Misty is great at thinking on her feet. My heart sinks in my chest, and I choke back the tears welling up in my eyes. This woman is a saint—a sailor-mouthed saint, but a saint nevertheless.
It makes me wonder when and how I’ll tell my family the truth. How am I going to handle this Gary situation with Steven, let alone my sons?
Two Months Later
Sleeping among a mound of pillows and a tangle of blankets is one of my favorite things to do. Whenever I wake up throughout the night, I just happily hop back in bed and fluff and puff them around my body and snuggle up again to continue my slumber.
Barney sits at attention at the side of my bed crooking his head to the side and yelps as if to say, Wake up, Mom. I need to go outside.
I momentarily protest. Eventually, I roll over and think about how difficult it would be if I were told to “wait” to pee, so I muster up the energy to rise at 5:30 a.m. and take him out. The baby was up at 4:00 a.m. for her feeding, which Steven had covered, so I can’t really argue with Barney’s pleas.
Life with a new baby has offered us a few schedule changes, but we welcome them with open arms after what we went through two months ago. Now, we give thanks for every single day.
Coming back upstairs from doggy detail, I catch Steven’s wanting glances as I approach him in the master bathroom. We stand together for a thankful moment staring into one another’s eyes. We embrace, gently swaying to imaginary music as we giggle like teenagers. After a loving shower together, we quickly get dressed and wake the boys for school.
The baby is gurgling and cooing in her crib as we walk in and scoop her up for morning hugs and kisses. Steven agrees to get her changed and ready for the day as I head downstairs.
“Boys,” I call. “We are heading down with your sister to get breakfast ready. Brush your teeth and get dressed!”
“Okay, Mommy!” I hear them reply.
The copper teakettle on the stove whistles like a harmonica as the steam swirls from the spout. I gently pour the boiling water over the teabags that Steven has chosen for us this morning, and sprinkle Stevia and a dollop of whole milk into each cup. I dish out healthy scoops of freshly cut fruit, scrambled eggs, and two slices of turkey bacon on the boys’ SpongeBob character plates. Breakfast is one of my favorite meals to make for our family because it’s easy to prepare, tastes great, and looks impressive. Steven adds butter to the mini bagels and pours two small cups of orange juice for our sons. It’s so nice to have a kitchen assistant this morning. He’s rather good-looking, too, if I do say so myself.
“Hello?” Dad hollers as he and Mom enter the side door and cross the room to our busy kitchen.
Mom and Dad are right on time for breakfast, so I grab two extra plates and place them on the kitchen table.
“How is everyone this morning? And who’s driving with us to school today?” I love it when Dad offers to drive the boys for me. It can be tricky to get the baby bundled up for the cold and into the car on these busy mornings.
The boys shout together, “We are!”
I quietly lean against the kitchen counter, sipping my herbal tea, observing the mechanics of my family unit—I’m happy watching them interact together. Steven glides over to stand hip-to-hip with me as we watch our boys smile and laugh with their grandparents.
Steven turns to me. “I’m glad Morgan got that smelly cast removed last week.”
I nod, smiling.
“Say, I wanted to ask you,” he says quietly, “did you ever go with Misty to get your gun permit?”
That’s kind of an odd question for my husband to ask me, right now, with my entire family sitting here watching. “Um, no, not yet. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I was thinking, it can’t hurt to have you familiar with how to properly handle a weapon. I understand you’re an expert shot, but a few lessons might come in handy. Let’s face it, your pink pepper spray isn’t going to do much if you’re ever in trouble again.”
“Agreed. I’ll talk to Misty about it later this morning when we’re out on our baby walk. Which reminds me, I need to find Emmy Grace’s fleece blanket to tuck over her coat. It’s chilly out there.”
“I saw it in the mudroom last night,” Steven says.
I follow him in there, out of earshot of the family. “What did your boss say about accepting the Chicago area regional sales position? I know he was hoping you’d take it.”
I realize this is a sore subject with my husband. He loves the West Coast and this was such a bone of contention between us in the past. But he agreed to take it for the good of our family.
“I called him yesterday and accepted,” he says, beaming. “The position doesn’t start for another four weeks. He wanted to give me more time to rest and heal from my surgery and the whole ordeal. Plus, with the new baby, he tacked on some extra time off.”
I’m relieved. Thankfully, now that this subject is settled, I need to find a clever way to find out if Gary’s “other woman” comment has any validity. I still don’t want to believe it to be true.
Back in the kitchen, I look over at the boys and my parents and say, “Hey, guys, you’d better go grab your coats so you can get going to school.” Dad lowers his chin and raises one eyebrow and sends a thumbs-up.
As the boys go to the mudroom to get their bags, I turn to my husband and continue, “Steven, before I forget, I have a call scheduled with Candy Cranston today. She emailed me and asked if I would consider coming back to work, part-time. After she saw my parents at the fundraiser a couple of months ago, she decided to make me an offer to come back. I told her we had to discuss it, but honestly, I don’t think I want to schlep into the city for work anymore. I just love it here in Westin Heights and I was thinking … it might be nice to open a shop here. Maybe a quaint little breakfast spot.”
Steven purses his lips, glances down, and then raises his face, smiling from ear to ear. “I am so glad you’re asking me this. I have wanted to talk to you about this for a week. I really want you to get back into doing what you love, but was hoping you could find a business opportunity around here, maybe with a partner, so you could just work half-time. I know
you would miss the boys and the baby if you were working long hours in a kitchen in the city.” He looks at me. “Am I right?”
“When did you start reading minds? That’s what I was thinking!” I twirl on my heels and purse my lips into a kiss that I throw over my left shoulder as I cross through the kitchen to grab the boys’ backpacks on the hooks by the side door.
Shuffling the boys out the door, kissing their heads, and hugging my parents, I softly push the door closed behind them with a click. I peek out the window, holding my palms on the glass, as I watch them hop into the back seat of their Lexus.
“Steven,” I call as I come back into the kitchen, “I have a quick question for you.”
“Uh-oh, what did I do?” My husband smiles with his eyes as he joins me at the table.
“I want to be serious for a minute. Before I shot Dr. Hildebrandt, he told me something about you.”
“Oh?”
“He told me he saw you in another woman’s arms.” I pause, watching his eyebrows furrow as he shakes his head.
“Oh, my God, Betsy. I would never in a million-years cheat on you. I already told you that kiss with my secretary was a one-time thing. You know I wouldn’t do that to you. What sick kind of stunt…” He takes my hands.
“I know he tried to kill you in the hospital and I think he was delusional enough about his sick crush on me that he was willing to kill you for hurting me. I know that sounds crazy, but I had to ask you. Otherwise, it would bother me forever.”
I can see the genuine love in his eyes, but I let him squirm a little just to be double sure. “I believe that doctor was a sick man, and he said and did some horrible things to you. The way he manhandled you and hurt you… I am still broken up about the fact I was in that hospital bed, unable to help you.”
He pulls his chair closer and slides his legs next to mine, gripping my hands in his, then pulls them up to kiss my knuckles. I search his soul, reading his thoughts. Seeing and feeling nothing but genuine sincerity, I inhale with my nose and exhale as I ask him, “Steven, do you remember anything from when you were in the coma? Anything at all, like visitors, people talking to you, or whatever?”
“No, not really. Why?”
Barney makes a little groaning sound in response to Steven’s comment, as I imagine him saying, Mom, how can he not remember”
“Well, there were times when I came to see you and would talk to you, but obviously, you couldn’t respond. Then one day, I meditated and tried to tap into your subconscious mind. And… I did.”
Barney wags his tail.
A look of surprise flashes across Steven’s face. “What? Really? What did I say?”
“We talked about a lot of things, but you definitely were able to tap into me. It made me feel more at ease, knowing that you knew I was there and that I loved you,” I say. “One day, when I’m not on my way out the door to go walking with Misty and Emmy, I will sit with you and show you how I have mastered it, if that’s what you call it.”
“Hmm…”
“Oh, and by the way, Barney completely understands what I’m saying, all of the time. Remember I told you he did that Lassie thing with Misty when Gary had me captive?”
“Oh yeah. That’s the same thing? I thought you were just saying it was a coincidence or something. Betsy, this is cool! I can’t wait to experience it in action!”
Barney stands up on all fours and looks at Steven, then over at me, hoping to be included in the conversation. “Good boy, Barney. Do you want to join Mom for a walk with Misty and your sister?”
Chuff-bark. I’ll take that as a yes!
I pick up our teacups and squeeze by Steven as I walk over to the sink to rinse out the cups. I glance back at the table where he is still sitting. He’s looking at me with a huge smile on his face.
“Steven, I’m going to run over with Emmy and meet Misty for our walk. Are you off to physical therapy this morning?”
“Yes. But will I’ll see you later for lunch?”
“You’ve got a date.” My face feels warm and tingly as I flirt with my own husband.
Misty always has a way of making me feel important. The week after the baby was born, she came over to help with the kids, making sure they would get breakfast and get off to school with Mom and Dad on time. She even helped my dad install a remote window shade on the patio door so no one can peek in at night. I’ve returned many favors for her lately, too. She’s started to date a new guy (not a stalking doctor) and needs nighttime and weekend sitters while she goes out with him. I love having Samantha and Abby here, and they love seeing the boys and playing with the baby. They call Emmy their new baby cousin. Misty and her girls have become an important part of our family.
“Hey, girl,” I call to Misty, who is standing on the sidewalk in front of her house. She skips a step and jogs over to us, zipping up her fleece jacket. Her matching leggings and pink sneakers are quite the ensemble. I’m wearing baggy yoga pants and a Cubs sweatshirt under my jacket.
“Hello, little Emmy. Are you ready for a winter walk?” Her obvious baby talk gets Barney very excited because he knows that he’s included in that equation. Sensing his attention on her, Misty turns to him and says, “Hello, Mr. Barney. How are you today?”
Not expecting an answer, Misty looks startled when Barney replies, Garoof!
The light frost on the grass and the tied-back perennials are a sure sign that winter is on its way. Soon, neighbors will start hanging holiday lights and greens. We comment on the gorgeous landscapes and architectural details along the way. This is an area that takes pride in the look and feel of their neighborhood; I am proud to live here, and walking with Misty always gives me a great reason to get out and see more of it, winter, spring, summer, or fall.
“Misty, remember how I started to tell you about my idea for a local business, right here in Westin Heights?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, I found a little space that is available, right in town. In fact, we’ll walk by it on our walk today.”
“Tell me more!” Misty cheers.
“It’s perfect! I was wondering if you’d be interested in talking with me about a possible business together. I’ve been working on the business plan all week and have crunched the numbers, and I think I can make it work. I have a friend who worked with me in the city, years ago, who also lives up here, and she’s open to working the days I would take off. You can be a silent partner, or active in the day-to-day run of things, depending on what you decide.”
“Interesting, Betsy.” Misty glances over to me and grins.
“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Now that your bathroom rehab project is complete, I know you’re looking for something else in your life in addition to your new boyfriend, and I think this would be perfect. Our friendship fits like a glove and we’ve learned how to give and take, giving us a strong foundation for working together. What do you say? Will you at least consider it?”
Misty picks up the pace to make sure I keep my heart rate in my target zone. I unzip my jacket to let in some cool air. I grab an extra gulp of air and double step to get back on stride with her. Pushing this stroller is quite the workout.
She turns her head to the left and grins at me again. “Of course! I’m sure we can figure something out! I know you want to open your own little café here in town, and honestly, we could use another tasty food spot for the locals. I think it could be really great!”
Barney woofs in agreement.
“Really?! Really?!” I stop walking. There I stand, in the middle of the sidewalk, jumping up and down while hugging my best friend and new business partner.
Thank you to the wonderful people who assisted and supported my writing throughout this book, including Daisy Simmons and Sarah Dinetz for your first round of edits, which truly launched this project into reality and gave it wings. Katie McCoach, Jennifer Zaczek, Rebecca Mahoney, Jessica Hatch, and Jovana Shirley, your eagle eyes and candid professionalism helped give this book the fin
al touches it needed to soar. Wini Nimrod, thank you for letting me read countless passages, bouncing ideas back and forth, giving me more clarity. Sarah Hansen, your cover design is impeccable, embodying the true essence of the story and genre. Dina Silver, your friendship and guidance pushed me over the finish line into a whole new world of publishing. I will pay my gratitude forward, tenfold. Lisa Beacom, thank you for lending your perfect voice to my audio book. It’s like listening to Betsy Ryan—in real life. I appreciate the love and patience from my entire family and many friends while I spent hours, days, weeks, and months confined to my office—only coming out for food, water, and dog walks. Bonsai, Karma, and my mom’s dog, Bailey, thank you for being the inspiration for Barney, and always giving me a reason to stop and smell the roses. Thank you to my readers, for taking time to read my debut suspense thriller novel. I invite you to visit my website and register for my newsletter so you can keep in touch and stay in the loop on my writing news. My next novel is a heart-warming holiday story about an unlikely chap who becomes an angel to save a grieving mother’s life. Happy Reading! BethAldrich.com
Photo credit: Melissa Song Photography
Beth Aldrich is an award-winning and Amazon bestselling author for the book, Real Moms Love to Eat (Penguin/NAL, 2012), and former publisher and host of the magazine and PBS-TV series, For Her Information (FHI). The series aired in 60 cities, nationwide, as well as in Turkey and Israel. Beth lives in Chicago’s Northshore with her husband, three sons, and two loyal Tibetan Terriers. She believes life is more delightful when filled with laughter.
Reviews for Pink Slips
“Atmospheric and chilling with a feisty and relatable EveryMom heroine, Pink Slips will keep you in suspense until the gripping climax.” ~Eve Adamson, nine-time New York Times bestselling collaborator
“Not since Rosemary’s Baby has a book revealed how vulnerable women are when pregnant… Aldrich has Raymond Chandler’s (The Lady in the Lake), gift for portraying violent scenes, but has a woman’s insight into the especially serious consequences it could have for pregnant women.” ~5-Star, Indie Reader Review