Читать книгу Love Like Hallelujah - Lutishia Lovely - Страница 10

The hustle and bustle of LAX, Los Angeles’s busiest airport, greeted Millicent as she stepped through the Jetway. Hard to believe she was back in Los Angeles. When she left four months ago, whether she’d return at all was anyone’s guess. Even now, she felt vulnerable, not sure if she was ready to step back into the real world. But she couldn’t hide out at her mother’s forever. Her therapist had encouraged her to accept the marketing contract she’d been offered, felt that working would help her life return to normal. Problem was, Millicent wasn’t sure she’d recognize normal when it arrived.

Millicent made her way to baggage claim, keeping her hat pulled low and sunglasses firmly in place. The last thing she wanted was to be recognized. That was the main reason she’d decided to return to California but not live in Los Angeles—she did not want to see or be seen by anyone she knew. Before coming back from her mother’s home in Portland, Oregon, Millicent decided to sell her condo and had enlisted her real estate agent to find another one in La Jolla, about a hundred miles from the City of Angels, near San Diego. Based on her therapist’s diagnosis, she’d gotten disability through her insurance company and was thankful she’d played it safe with her investments. The time off from work hadn’t hit her too hard financially. Plus, at her therapist’s suggestion, to occupy her mind productively, she’d freelanced for a couple of clients in Portland.

Her contract with Innovative Designs, a computer technology firm, began at the end of January, two weeks away. For now, Millicent was anxious to get her luggage and go to the condo that she no longer called home. That would be where the test of her healing really started, when she walked into the place that held so many memories, so many dreams, the dreams that had led to…No. Not those thoughts, not right now. She dealt with thoughts of Cy every day, had even dreamed of him. But she didn’t want to think about him right now.

Standing near the carousel, Millicent looked around and saw a man holding a sign that read “Sims.” It was the town car she’d hired. She waved him over, just as the first of her many suitcases came into view. It wasn’t long before the driver saw what he was dealing with and went to find a porter. Fifteen minutes and several suitcases later, they headed out of the airport and into the LA night.

Millicent smiled slightly as familiar sights and streets passed by. It hadn’t been that long, but things looked different somehow, a stark contrast to the clean, calm city of Portland, that’s for sure. One thing hadn’t changed—traffic. Settling back for a long ride, she pulled out her Blackberry and checked e-mails. There weren’t many new ones, as she’d expected. One from Jenny, her real estate agent, confirming their noon appointment the next day; one from Alison, her good friend and one of the few who knew about “the incident” with whom she’d remained in contact; a couple from inspirational sites; and her monthly music selection from BMG. She replied to both Jenny and Alison, read the inspirational messages, and declined the BMG selection before pushing delete.

When she looked up, the car was crossing Wilshire, a main boulevard through the heart of Los Angeles. Her heart tightened a bit. This was the street she regularly took to her old church, Kingdom Citizens’ Christian Center, or KCCC, as it was sometimes referred. Thinking of the church made her think of Cy. Tall, handsome, Cy Taylor, the man she’d believed with all her heart was her husband. Husband! No, stop it. Don’t play the tape again.

Millicent used the techniques her therapist had taught her and switched her thoughts to something different, positive. That’s it, refocus. She thought about the glowing recommendation she’d received from the company in Portland, the one that helped seal the deal at Innovative Designs: “Ms. Sims’s talents and skills are superb; your gain will be our loss.” She remembered the feel of her mother’s arms around her, the unending encouragement that life would get better: “No matter how long the road, dear, eventually there is a turn in it.” She thought about the profit she’d made from the sale of her condo. Six figures in my savings! Maybe Cy will—No, Cy won’t. There were plenty investors in San Diego County. She took a deep breath, counted to three, let it out. Yes, breathe, focus on the breath, positive thoughts. She thought about her mom, the one person on earth who could make her feel better, no matter what. Just then, her phone rang.

“Mom! I was just going to call you!”

“Millie, dear, you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking of you, that’s all, and wanted you to know that I made it back.” Millicent paused. “I’m on my way to the condo.”

“How are you feeling about that?”

“A little nervous, but I’ll be okay.”

“Oh, Millie dear, I wish you’d let me come with you. I don’t know that going there is something you should be doing all by yourself.”

“Mom, I’m a big girl.”

“I know, but with all the upsets you’ve been through lately…” Mrs. Sims didn’t finish. They both knew all too well what Millicent had been through.

“I love you for caring about me. But I feel like I need to do this alone. Take back control of my life, you know?” Again they were silent, thinking of how Millicent’s life had temporarily spun out of control. “But I will never be able to thank you enough, Mom. You were my rock when I stood on very shaky ground.”

Mrs. Sims laughed. “That’s what mothers are sometimes. You’ll see, when it comes to your children, you’ll do anything.”

Millicent changed the subject. To think about children, she’d have to think about a husband, and that was the last thing she wanted on her mind. “My agent left a message; she has a couple condos in La Jolla for me to check out.”

“Oh, that’s great, Millie. I think your moving out of LA was the best idea.”

“I do, too. La Jolla is a beautiful area, and the people at the computer company seem really nice. Lots of work coming up in these next few weeks and that’s just what I need to stay busy.”

“That’s right. And you need God, too, dear. Don’t forget to start looking for a church home.”

Millicent wasn’t going down that road either. She was sure she’d find one eventually, but she was not in any big hurry to join another church. “We’re almost at the condo, Mom. I’ll call you later. I love you.”

“Love you, too, dear.”

The driver turned the corner and there it was—the condo Millicent had proudly called home for almost five years. She’d leased it out on a month-to-month basis during her time in Portland, but now with it sold, she needed to move what furniture remained to storage and say good-bye to a chapter of her life that was forever closed. The driver was already out, placing her suitcases on the sidewalk. With a sigh of resignation mixed with determination, Millicent got out of the car and walked into the lobby.

“Nice place,” the driver commented cheerfully, putting suitcases near the elevator.

“Yes,” Millicent responded simply.

“Wish I could afford to live in a neighborhood like this. I can’t imagine coming here every night.”

Millicent smiled, busying herself by helping bring in the suitcases. Her heart beat rapidly, but she tried to ignore the building anxiety, tried to calm it with conscious breathing: in, hold three counts, out.

The driver came in with the last two cases and joined Millicent at the elevator. “You must have been gone a while,” he said, pointing to the luggage.

“Yes.” Millicent tried not to be annoyed. The man was just being friendly. Still, she pushed the already lit elevator button again and then reached for her wallet. “Thank you,” she said, handing the driver the fare plus a generous tip.

His eyes widened when he saw three Benjamins. Looking at Millicent with dreamy eyes, the driver responded in what was his attempt at sexy. “No, baby doll, thank you!”

Is he trying to flirt? He had no idea how not the one she was. She was so not the one. One of the last men to do that had ended up being stalked by a crazed woman in a wedding gown! For the first time, Millicent almost smiled at the thought.

The elevator doors opened, and she and the driver began placing the bags inside. “You need help up with these?” he asked, obviously wanting to prolong their encounter.

“No, thank you, I’ve got it from here.” She was saved from further questioning by the elevator door closing in his face.

Millicent slowly moved the bags from the elevator to her front door. She paused, took a deep breath, and placed the key in the lock. As she opened the door and walked inside, she closed her eyes on the tears that threatened, then opened them again. A bit of a sting, but easier than she’d thought it would be. The impersonality of the place helped. Jenny had removed all of the more personal touches, photographs and other identifying belongings, and placed them in storage before renting the condo out. And now the place belonged to someone else. One more step in starting over.

One by one, Millicent brought her suitcases inside. Once they were in, she closed the door and again looked around. She walked into the kitchen, the dining room. She walked to the bathroom and stopped. This had been one of her favorite places, a bit harder to face now. So many dreams she’d created while soaking in the Jacuzzi tub, dreams that had floated away, disappeared down the drain, like the bathwater. Before the tears could gather, she walked briskly back into her bedroom, picked up the briefcase containing her laptop, and walked to the desk. Stay focused, Millicent. Guard your thoughts. Millicent sat and redirected her energy to preparing the condo for its new owner, looking at the potential homes Jenny had selected for her, and drafting a marketing outline for her new boss. The time for dreams was gone. With steely resolve, Millicent focused on her reality.