Thief .(82)

Leah remarries and has another baby. Luckily, it’s a boy. When Estella is nine, she comes to live with us. Despite the “stepmother” status, Estella loves Olivia. They share the same sense of humor, and too often, I find myself the target of their jokes. Some nights I come home and they’re sitting side by side on the sofa, legs propped on the coffee table, MacBooks open, stalking boys. Olivia wishes she’d had Facebook when we were young. She says so every day. I’m not sure who’s more confused by their immediate chemistry — me or Leah.

Leah still hates Olivia. Olivia is grateful that Leah gave us Estella. Fortunately, Estella is nothing like her mother, aside from her red hair, of course. It’s a joke in the family that no one has the same hair color. Raven, red and blonde. We’re an odd sight in public.



We are raising a really beautiful little soul. She wants to be a writer and tell our story someday. We are gonna be okay. That’s what happens when two people are meant. You just work it out until you are okay.



We make love every single day — no matter what. She is the only woman I’ve seen that gets more beautiful with age. She is the only woman I see.





And the journey is over. After eight years and loving my characters through their lies, I can finally move on. To mothers, and fathers, and friends and foes. I steal snippets of your words and lives to thread through my stories.

I owe all to my readers. Passionate, dedicated, mildly insane. Just like me! Thank you. I wrote this for you. I will never forget the book signings, the gifts, the scrapbooks, the e-mails and the harassment. Thank you to the blogs for empowering the writer. And to the writers who empower other writers through their intoxicating words. I am ever so grateful for all of it.



Tarryn





I packed, drove, and showered quickly so I could make the morning meeting on time. I wondered if April would be there now that she seemed close to being brought on as a full-time teacher. Hopefully she would be. I’d have to decide whether to sit next to her and breathe in her intoxicating floral scent or if I wanted to sit on the opposite side of the room so I could simply gaze. Or stare. Let’s face it — I would probably stare.

The room was half-full when I arrived with five minutes to spare. A few of the teachers looked up when I came in. Their faces registered surprise, clearly not expecting to see me back so soon. I got a few nods in my direction but no one spoke. Teachers aren’t usually morning people unless they’ve had their cup or two or six of coffee. Their silence made it evident that the liquid brown drug was not yet coursing through their bodies. Or that seeing me was a little awkward, considering the state I was in when they last saw me.

April was seated on the second row, and seemed to be lost in a pile of paper on her lap. She was wearing a long-sleeve white button-up shirt, sleeves folded halfway up her forearm. Her skirt was black, and her hair was back in a ponytail. Her outfit brought to mind just about every teacher fantasy I had ever allowed myself to indulge in while growing up. Because her hair was pulled back, the pearly white skin of her neck was exposed. I was starting to have serious vampire thoughts.

I will kiss that neck, I told myself. More than once.

I had never promised myself that I would kiss the body of a married woman before, but there’s a first time for everything, I guess. There was something about her neck that made me want to claim it for my own. So Maniac Marco could go fuck himself for all I cared. Knowing what I did about him, he probably wished he could fuck himself. Arrogant prick.

I snuck my way into the third row and took a seat behind her, one seat over to her left. When I sat down, I felt like I had immersed myself in a field of lilies, her soft, sweet scent filling my nose and lungs.

Yeah, her neck is mine.

Among other things.

“Good morning,” I said, not wanting to stir her from her paper reading. But very much wanting to also.

She turned around.

“Oh, hey you,” she said with a sense of familiarity that made my nerves tingle. “Good morning back.”

All she had to do was smile and I swear I would have done anything she asked. Including commit serious crimes.

“Is this your first meeting?”

“No, I came to the meeting on Tuesday also.”

“Oh, nice.”

She lowered her head and her voice, “They are so much fun!”

This time I smiled. Sarcasm almost always made me smile.

“Why are you sitting back there?” she asked. “You’re dumb. Sit next to me.”

She patted the chair to her right and I went straight for it, like a dog being called to the side of its owner. There hadn’t even been a second thought, just an immediate response. Surely, anyone paying attention would have thought I was pathetic.