Heart Like Mine A Novel - By Amy Hatvany Page 0,125
and loose. God, she loved them. She needed to get help.
After dropping them at school, she drove home, blinking rapidly to clear her vision. She was shaky and nauseous and wondered if she should go straight to her doctor’s office. What would she say, exactly? That she was heartsick? That every time she thought about Rebecca, her body rebelled and wouldn’t allow her to eat? Seeing Ava about to enter high school had started to bring everything back. She was terrified that her daughter would make the same mistakes she had, but she didn’t know how to talk with Ava about it without telling her the truth about what she’d done. When she did manage to sleep, she dreamed of her lost child. Her thin cries, the gaping, empty wound she’d left in Kelli’s body. She dreamed of the pain, but also of her first daughter’s kicks inside her, of the potential life that God had simply erased.
As she pulled into her driveway, her phone rang. “Hey, Diane,” she said, trying to sound normal.
“Hey! Are we on for eleven?” It was their ritual, coffee and gossip at the kitchen table on the days Kelli didn’t have to work the lunch shift.
“I don’t know . . . I didn’t sleep last night.”
“Again? Honey, get thee to the doctor. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” Kelli said, unable to keep the exhaustion she felt from the words.
Kelli was silent, and her friend sighed. “What’s going on with you? Is it Victor’s engagement?”
Kelli hesitated, wondering how to put all her jumbled feelings into words. “I’m just . . . sad.” Her voice finally broke. “I can’t stop thinking about Rebecca,” she whispered.
“Oh, sweetie,” Diane said. “Have you thought any more about hiring a private investigator?” Her friend had been the one to suggest that Kelli try to find the doctor who delivered her daughter. She said that if Kelli found out the details of exactly what happened that day, she might be able to finally move on.
“I can’t afford it,” Kelli answered with a heaving breath. “And what if it doesn’t make a difference? What if I’m just always going to be . . . broken?”
“You’re not broken, Kelli. You’ve suffered through some seriously painful circumstances in your life. You’ve lost a lot. But you also have two gorgeous children who need you. I know it’s hard, but maybe you can try to stop focusing so much on the past and look at what’s right in front of you.”
Kelli was quiet a moment, sniffling back her tears. “Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll try. But I think for now, the best I can do is sleep for a while. Can I take a rain check on coffee?”
“Yes. I’ll come check on you later. But if you don’t make an appointment with your doctor next week, I’m going to drag you there again. And that’s not just a threat, it’s a promise.”
Kelli laughed, grateful for the support of her friend, one of the very few people she’d told about losing Rebecca. They hung up and Kelli made her way into the house, forgetting to lock the front door behind her. She stumbled her way to the bedroom, past the kitchen, where she glanced at the toast she’d made for Ava, thinking that maybe she should try to eat it herself, but even the thought of taking a bite made her stomach roil, so she continued down the hall.
Once safely ensconced in her bedroom, Kelli stripped down to her bra and underwear, amazed that even with all the weight she’d lost, her chest size hadn’t diminished. She remembered how Jason first touched her there . . . how enamored she’d been with the thought that he might love her. Tears flooded her eyes again as she thought back to the girl she’d been, so naïve, so alone.
Spurred by this memory, Kelli made her way into her closet and dug behind a stack of boxes, pulling out the two things—other than clothes—that she had taken with her when she left her parents’ house: a photo album, which she’d taken from her mother’s dresser, and her freshman yearbook, which her mother had given her even though Kelli had been at New Pathways when it came out.
Now she ran her hands over both of them, thinking it was finally time for Max and Ava to see a little of who she was growing up. Maybe then Kelli could work up