For Now Read online

  FOR NOW

  A NOVEL

  KAT SAVAGE

  Copyright © 2018 by Kat Savage

  Editing: Christina Hart

  Proofreading: Julie Deaton

  Formatting: J.R. Rogue

  Cover design: Kat Savage

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN-13: 978-1983579097

  ISBN-10:1983579092

  For my children.

  All three of you.

  You will do amazing things.

  I love you.

  For those I’ve lost.

  My sister, Angela. My mother.

  I carry you with me every day.

  I’m sorry you weren’t here to see this.

  For my lover.

  Never lose sight of who you are

  or what you can become.

  You believe in me. I believe in you.

  For my sister, Brittany.

  I do not know who I would be without you.

  You have always been and continue to be

  the last bit of home I have.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by KAT SAVAGE

  Chapter One

  Jeff left me on a Tuesday morning. He drank his morning coffee as usual, threw his packed bags over his shoulder, and left a note on the counter for me to find. Looking back, it was a pretty cowardly move on his part. I had slept in for the first time in two weeks and opened my eyes to the sound of the front door shutting behind him. I looked around our bedroom to see his closet door half open; the inside was barren. I sat up in bed and stretched, walked over to it, and opened it all the way. Everything was gone. I walked downstairs and into the kitchen to see the coffee pot still on and a half empty mug next to the sink. I looked around for several moments, then down at the counter beside me. There was a handwritten note, penned in a hurry.

  I can’t do this anymore. I’ve been seeing someone else.

  I’m sorry, Delilah.

  -Jeff

  I found out later she was a secretary in his office. And that was it. Everything I’d known for the last eight years came crumbling down in three short sentences.

  I lay here, blinking my eyes over and over again slowly, the way you do when you’ve replayed the same moments in your mind too many times in the past year. I rolled over to find little red digital numbers on the face of an unfamiliar clock. Ugh, Delilah, it’s only 7:32 a.m. My mind was pleading with me to pull the scratchy beige blanket all the way up and over my head, to cover myself completely. Like if I could keep out the sunlight, this day wouldn’t exist. This was one of those moments. One of those split-second moments when you realize everything that has led up to now, that all the choices you’ve made in life were complete and utter bullshit because they’ve gotten you absolutely nowhere.

  Just two days ago I was waking up for the last time in my own bed, with my own blankets, and my own curtains that did a stellar job of keeping out the sunlight. There was no stupid old clock on the bedside table blinking red because I always just looked at my iPhone. But just two days ago, I spent the day taking down my pretty black curtains, breaking down my comfortable bed, and folding up my smooth gray linens. Two days ago was the last day of my life. But this? I couldn’t tell you what this was because I had no fucking idea.

  I tried to shut my eyes again and still my mind. But my thoughts had gotten the best of me and now sleep evaded. I threw back the stiff sheet and itchy excuse for a cover and swung my feet over the edge of the bed.

  I checked the front of my phone. No new messages. That wasn’t surprising. I grabbed the stark white towels from the little rack above the small sink alcove and shuffled my feet across the cold tile floor. This hotel really wasn’t all that cheerful. The bathroom was all white. Floor to ceiling. If a person stayed in there long enough they might go nuts. I turned the knob for the hot water and let it run over the back of my hand. I flipped the bathroom light off but kept the door open. I had started showering in the dark a few years ago. Well, not in complete darkness. I just wanted to dull everything down a bit. In this case, all the white.

  I peeled out of my oversized shirt and stepped straight into the scalding hot water. Maybe this will wash it away. I squeezed out a few drops of hotel shampoo from the tiny bottle and lathered it into my disheveled brunette excuse for hair. It was basically just one big knot at this point. That’s what I get for keeping it up in the same messy bun for three days. I let the water cascade down me, inhaling as deeply as I could. I have always believed in the healing powers of a hot shower. This was always when my thoughts would run rampant. I need to talk to the mortgage broker and sign the finalized paperwork. I need to talk to my lawyer and see if he accepted the revised papers. I need to send my publisher my first draft. Fuck! Did I just wash my hair twice? This is what happens when you put everything off until the last minute. Everything bottlenecks into a pile of crap you have to sort out all at once.

  I got out and toweled off. I pulled some clothes from my duffle bag, threw on my Converse, and tamed my hair. Despite my lack of motivation, I managed to throw on a little makeup. I had a lot to do today and most of it required me to look like an adult who had their shit together.

  When I arrived here yesterday evening, I did absolutely nothing. I came in, skipped dinner, and hit the pillow at 7:23 p.m. Pathetic. What I really needed to do was find a place to rent so I could get out of this depressing hotel. I decided I’d grab a newspaper at the gas station I saw on my way in. I grabbed my purse, keys, and phone, and walked out to face the day.

  Louisville, Kentucky held a certain kind of little big city charm, I suppose. When I say little big city, what I mean is that it’s a big city for the state of Kentucky, but not nearly a city like Chicago or Manhattan. I hadn’t expected much when I started driving. I might as well have thrown a dart at a map. Luckily, Emma sent me a text. I could always rely on Emma even when she didn’t know it. All it said was “I hope you can visit soon!” I figured where she lived was as good a place as any to start over. Start over. God, those words made it sound like everything until now was somehow wiped clean and nothing remained, but that just wasn’t the case. Not at all. Starting over for me felt more like being able to look back on the previous part of my life that didn’t work out, and realizing I don’t get to bring any part of it with me into this new chapter. Truthfully, anywhere that wasn’t Nashville would be good enough for me. I couldn’t stay there. No way. I imagined Emma would be surprised when she found out I was here to stay,
but I wasn’t quite ready to see her yet. My oldest friend was about to get one hell of a reunion. She was the last one I had from high school. We were going on thirteen years – by far my longest and most successful relationship. I grabbed a newspaper from the stand and paid the cashier for it. I needed coffee next. I was relieved to find a place within walking distance.

  Highland Coffee is a quaint little shop, locally owned as I noticed many places were in this part of town. It was full of hipster college students, all with headphones in and laptops out. I ordered my coffee black, added a little bit of sugar, and for a moment, wondered how long I had been drinking my coffee this way. It must have been since the first time my ex-husband made me coffee, when he just repeated the process he had for his own. He never asked me how I wanted it, and so I spent the last eight years drinking it his way. I made a mental note to order it any other way next time.

  I took a seat at a small table in the corner next to the window, pulled a pen from the side pocket of my purse, and opened up to the classifieds. Wow. Okay. This was going to be easier than I originally thought. There were only four listings for two-bedroom houses in the neighborhood I was looking in. I didn’t want an apartment, of which there were plenty. This city did have a rather large university after all. But I needed my space. I didn’t want to have to worry about hearing all the noisy student neighbors and the other ones with kids. Their kids. I felt a pang in my stomach and covered it with my hand. Push it away, Delilah.

  I called the telephone number for the first place and got no answer. I dialed the second with fingers crossed.

  “Hello?” a dainty voice on the other end greeted me.

  “Hi, yes. I’m calling to inquire about your two-bedroom house on Barnes Road. Is it still available?” I asked, my voice stiff and professional.

  “Oh, yes! It is!” she said. I could tell by her tone she was an older lady, maybe my mother’s age.

  “Great! I was wondering if you might have time to show it to me later today? I’m very interested in seeing it,” I said. After a few other details and exchanges, we planned to meet at 2 p.m. What I would do until then I didn’t know, but I was sure I could figure something out.

  I decided to explore on foot. I left my car parked and started down what appeared to be a little strip of artsy places near the heart of the city but just far enough away to keep a more relaxed vibe. There were tall office buildings surrounded by smaller, more interesting bars, stores, and local shops. There was a good mix of cultures here. It was an interesting area.

  I walked in and out of bookstores, record shops, and even a gallery featuring local art. I always admired the talents of others. For the longest time, I didn’t know about any of my own. Writing had happened later in life for me in comparison to most. I checked the time. 12:30 p.m. My stomach was starting to rumble much to my surprise and I settled on grabbing lunch before I headed over to view the house.

  I walked across the street to a small place, Ann’s Café. As I opened the door, I heard a charming little bell overhead.

  “Good afternoon!” a waitress called from behind the counter and told me to sit wherever I wanted.

  I took a seat in the booth by the window. I liked sitting by windows. I enjoyed looking out onto the street and watching strangers pass by as I made up stories about them in my head. Some of my best characters came from watching them. It was amazing what you could see about a person if you just paid attention. I grabbed a menu from the little rack sitting on the end of the table and opened it up. It was typical diner food. Homemade pies and a lot of bacon. I caught a smudge of red out of the corner of my eye and turned to see a child’s jacket flapping in the breeze. She was running to catch up with a woman I assumed was her mother. She placed her small hand inside the lady’s hand and they skipped down the sidewalk together. I ran my hand over my stomach. I started to close my eyes but luckily, I was interrupted by the cheery waitress from before.

  “Hello! My name’s Ann. I’ll be serving you today. Have you decided what you’d like?” she asked.

  “Ann? As in Ann’s Café Ann?” I asked.

  “Yes, ma’am, that’s me. The one and only. I like to try to give my staff Saturdays off when I can. Plus, I like strapping on the old apron every now and then so I can keep up with the folks around here,” she said. Her hospitality and dialect definitely didn’t fit the city but that’s probably why people enjoyed coming here.

  Ann was a slight woman, maybe fifty. Her hair was starting to lighten up but she didn’t try to hide it. It was long and pinned back on her left side. She had small reading glasses on and just a tiny bit of makeup. I decided she was genuine and the fact that she still said “folks” in that sort of rebellious way was adorable.

  “Speaking of folks around here, I’ve never seen you around.” Her trailing statement sounded more like a question.

  “I’m Delilah. I just arrived in the city last night.” I kept it short. She didn’t need the messy details, but she waited for a moment to make sure I wasn’t going to offer up any more.

  “Well, welcome! I hope to see more of you around!” she said.

  Ann took my order and scurried off. I almost drifted back to my thoughts when the doorbell chimed and the door swung open.

  A man walked in and shrugged his jacket off his shoulders. I could only see his profile as he took a seat at the counter. My natural people watching curiosity took over and I began to analyze him from afar. This guy had wavy brown hair, and perhaps brown eyes. He was dressed business casual with one of those thin neckties and I watched him roll up his sleeves before he reached for a menu exposing what I’m pretty sure was a tattoo.

  “Good afternoon, Samuel!” the waitress greeted him, as if she’d known him a while, and I suspected he was a regular here.

  Just as I was listening for his response, my phone buzzed on the tabletop and I answered it quickly to silence it.

  “Hello, doll! How are you? I was just calling to ask when I should expect the first draft. The publisher is all over me about it,” she said.

  Vera Dunn always talked so quickly I didn’t ever have time to answer anything but whatever question she asked last. It was a small price to pay. She was one hell of an agent.

  “Hello, Vera, yes, I’ll have that to you this evening,” I said.

  We hung up as my food arrived, and like all meals recently, I forced it down as best I could. It seemed I felt hungry all the way up until the moment the food arrived and then, just like that, it was completely gone, and I had to force it down in that eating-only-to-survive way. I picked, mostly. I pushed the food back and forth across my plate in ritual to make it look like I ate some but it was still pretty much all there. I didn’t know who that show was for. It wasn’t as if anyone was checking my plate. The food taunted me, sitting there on the plate in front of me, looking both delicious and disgusting at the same time. I made peace with the fact that food had indeed won this round.

  I stood to leave with my handwritten ticket and threw my purse over my shoulder. I was digging for my wallet and walking at the same time and that was something I should never do. The man I’d seen walk in earlier was swiveling off his stool in the opposite direction with his back toward me and I looked up in just enough time to find my left side colliding with his right. I was not a graceful person at all so when I started to fall, it appeared much more dramatic than it actually was. Everything went in slow motion. My phone was flying. My keys were silently floating around me. My ticket looked like a hang glider. My arms were flailing and I felt nothing and then all at once I felt my ass meet tile floor and I sort of bounced. Here I was, sitting in the middle of the diner and there were at least ten pairs of eyes on me.

  The man whirled around rather quickly. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Here, let me help you up,” he said.

  He offered his hand, but I opted to push up off the floor with both of my hands instead because that was just the kind of asshole I was going to be. Call it a defense mechanism or survival; it
was just what I did these days. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Really. It’s my fault. I wasn’t looking,” I said.

  I kept my eyes focused on the floor, gathered my things, and moved around him as quickly as I could. These days, I kept out of reach of men like they’d set me on fire with a single touch. I was clearly embarrassed and probably looked like an idiot.

  “I’m Sa…” he started.

  “Hi, no it’s okay. I’m so sorry, I’m running terribly late. Don’t worry about it, really.” I didn’t wait for him to give his name, and I didn’t give him mine. There was really no need. I just kept apologizing as I paid and shuffled out of the door as quickly as I could, still averting my face and avoiding eye contact.

  I looked down at my phone once I was out on the sidewalk. 1:37 p.m. I had just enough time to get to the viewing of the house. I hadn’t parked that far away, and provided I didn’t go colliding with any more helpless strangers, I’d make it. I made a mental note to shy away from Ann’s for at least long enough to let my pride heal and rolled my eyes once again at how many mental notes I made. Get it together, Delilah. You’ve got a lot to do.

  Chapter Two

  I stood in the center of my new living room the next day. My furniture hadn’t arrived yet. But I was so desperate to get out of that hotel, I packed up my duffle bag, bought a sleeping bag and pillow, and camped out in the empty house last night. Luckily for me, Bett was old school. She and her husband purchased the house for their daughter quite a while back but she went off and got married and moved out of state for her dream job. They’d been renting it out ever since, though it didn’t seem like they had had anyone here for a while. They kept the utilities on though, just in case. I signed the paperwork with her that same day and paid the deposit and first month’s rent in cash. She happily handed the keys over.