Imperfectly Yours Read online

  IMPERFECTLY

  YOURS

  by D. Duquette

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright 2018, D. Duquette

  All rights reserved, worldwide.

  No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without prior written permission from the author of this book. This is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any businesses, locales or products mentioned are used in a purely fictitious manner. The author acknowledges trademark owners and trademarked status referenced in this fictitious book, which have been used without permission and is in no way supported by the trademark owners.

  For my grandfather and to all

  those who served or currently serve in our military.

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Caroline

  I woke up to the sound of my alarm. Ugh, I hated that sound. Remind me to change it again until I hate that tune also. I rubbed my eyes and lit a cigarette; a bad habit I acquired from an ex-boyfriend of mine. I really did need to quit these things, but a light and a puff kept my idle hands busy. I stepped out of the woodshop, surveying the area like I did each time I stayed here. I wouldn’t want to get caught trespassing and add that to my list of offenses. There was nobody in sight and never was. I wondered what happened to the woman who used to live in the house on this property.

  ​I walked up the hill on the driveway. It was rather long, but I didn’t stay on it for too much time. I cut through the woods back to my parents’ house. My parents had been long gone; both leaving for work early in the morning. I worked at the local restaurant in the center of town, so we had opposite schedules. I hardly saw them. When I did they just pissed me off, so I would leave anyway. I was the outcast in the family, the black sheep as they called it. My siblings even nicknamed me Baabaa.

  ​I showered and got ready for work. I looked in the mirror thinking about how pretty I could be if I put a little effort into myself. The truth was, I was tired of being hit on by guys, especially the older men. It was the reason I gave up wearing pigtails years ago. One dirty old man tugged on them one day, asking me what I used them for. I’m sick of them leaving their number on their dinner receipt. How cliché.

  ​I didn’t need a distraction anyway. Having a boyfriend always complicated my life. I just spent the last four years focusing on getting my law degree, which I did. Yeah, I had guys that floated into my life, but they left as quickly as they came. Every single one wanted to mold me into somebody I wasn’t. I was a free bird. I liked to come and go as I please. Forget being tied down.

  ​I settled on a ponytail and my infamous plain Jane look. Who was I kidding? I still got hit on. Most people coined my strawberry blonde hair and baby blue eyes as a lucky trait, but a rarity that made me feel like an outcast at a young age is all it was. I’d cringe every time someone asked me what color hair and eyes my parents had. I looked nothing like them. In fact, my siblings convinced me growing up that I was adopted.

  I made it to work a few minutes early and surveyed the parking lot to see whose car was parked outside. I couldn’t stand most of the people I worked with. I stayed because I started working there in high school and just got comfortable. I was good at my job and made really good money from the tips I received. Now that I graduated, I would have to start applying for real world jobs.

  ​Ugh, Cindy is on today. She was the world’s biggest complainer. She could win a million dollars and still say she should have gotten more. Then there was Rachael. According to her, she was the best, besides her three children who were also the best, not to mention her award-winning husband. Then there was my boss, Susan. Susan was up my butt about every little thing. My top button was undone, my name tag was crooked or my shirt needed to be tucked in more. Every shift I would clock in, put my head down and do my job, but that was never good enough for her.

  ​When eight o’clock came, I was as good as gone. It was a Friday night and I made almost three-hundred dollars in tips. I put any twenty I had ever gotten in a tin can that I secretly stashed away at the woodshop. The other money I used to pay for everything else, especially school. I knew my student loan payments were right around the corner.

  ​On my way out, I noticed the new dish boy had dishes piling up. The look he gave the bus boy when he brought another load of dishes was priceless.

  ​“You need help?” I asked him.

  ​“Ah, kind of,” he replied.

  ​“Here, I’ll give you a hand,” I said, putting on some gloves and scrubbing away. About twenty minutes later, we had all the dishes in trays on the belt ready to be washed.

  ​“I’m not paying you to wash dishes,” Susan said, passing through the kitchen, “you took that upon yourself.”

  ​“Wow, that lady is a real bitch,” the kid said. I let out a chuckle. He looked too young to swear.

  ​“Yeah, her poor husband.”

  ​“I’ll throw you a few bucks when I get my next paycheck.”

  ​“Oh please, not necessary. Besides, I’ll be coming to find you next time I need help,” I said, taking off the gloves and grabbing my belongings to leave.

  ​“I’m Brad, by the way.”

  ​“Caroline. I’ll see you around, Brad.”

  ****

  ​I pulled into my driveway, not wanting to go in. I should have eaten at the restaurant, but I was too tired. I just wanted to go home. Now I would have to make food in the kitchen while trying to make small talk with my mother.

  ​“Hi, Caroline.”

  ​“Hi, Mom.”

  ​“How does it feel to be home from school and only one more year left?”

  ​“I graduated, Mom. This was my senior year.”

  ​“Oh, you never told me. What about a graduation?”

  ​“It’s next weekend, but I didn’t want to walk.”

  ​“All your siblings did, you’ll be the only one.”

  ​“I already made up my mind. It’s too late now.”

  ​“Well why didn’t you want to walk with your classmates? It’s supposed to be such a special day.”

  ​“They are all goody two shoes. I didn’t fit in with them.”

  ​“Any of them?”

  ​“No, I hated college. It was just a stepping stone.”

  ​“Everywhere you go, you can never seem to make friends. It’s always them, but perhaps you need to take a hard look at yourself in the mirror and realize maybe it’s you.”

  ​“I’m going to bed,” I said, wandering past my dad who was sitting on the couch watching television like he did every…single…night.

  ​“Did you hear that, Frank? Caroline graduated college.”

  ​“That’s nice,” he said, turning the volume up on the television. I didn’t bother wasting my time on him anymore. It was a shame my mother still did. Maybe if she didn’t, they wouldn’t argue so much.

  ​I tossed and turned to the grumbling of my stomach. I was starving now, but I didn’t dare listen to my mother anymore. She was poison to my ego. I could never do anything right in that woman’s eyes. Sometimes I think she wished I was never born. I was her last one; an oops baby. Maybe that’s why I make so many mistakes, because my mere existence is one.

  ​An hour into laying there thinking about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, the yelling began. It used to rock me to sleep when I was a kid, but now I can�
�t bear to listen to it. Tonight’s argument is about my mother wanting to take money out of her retirement for a lavish vacation. That woman really is something else. She’s probably had a couple glasses of wine and my dad, he’s a functioning alcoholic. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen that man without a beer in his hand. Even when he drives, he calls them road sodas.

  ​It’s only five minutes into their argument and I cannot stomach anymore. I grab my phone and open my window like I have done every summer I’ve been home from college. I climb down the trellises on the side of our patio and make my way across the backyard, using the light on my phone as a flashlight. I know this path like the back of my hand, so although it’s dark, I am not afraid. I know what the woodshop will bring; peace and quiet.

  ​When I walk down the hill, I notice a dumpster placed outside the entrance to the shop. Oh no. I peered in. It was mostly empty. I slowly opened the door and noticed my bed was gone, along with my blankets and pillow. My tin can! It was in the springs of the bed, underneath my mattress. I didn’t even know how much money was in there, but it was all I had. Shoot! Who could have done this? Why now?

  ​I stomped back to my house crying so hard I could barely see where to walk. I climbed back up the trellises and opened my window. I could hear my dad coming up the stairs so I tip-toed over to my bed. Phew, maybe the fight is over.

  ​“Oh, you’re just going to walk away, tough guy? You think you’re so much better than me.”

  ​I took my two pillows and shoved one on each side of my head, holding them tightly as I wept. That money was going to be the only way I got out of here, away from this dysfunctional family. Who the hell had taken it and how would I ever find them?

  ​The next morning, I flung myself out of bed, slipping my feet into my moccasins and throwing on my favorite ballcap. I opened up the window, ready to head to the woodshop. Then it dawned on me that my parents were at work and I could just walk out the back door like a normal person.

  As I neared the shop, I could hear some kind of tool being used, maybe a saw. When I got to the top of the hill, I could see the door wide open. I heard some music and a man whistling. I stood in the doorway, watching a man wearing safety glasses bent down about to cut a piece of wood.

  ​“Hello?” I yelled. He stopped and looked at me. “Who are you?” I asked frustrated by his presence.

  ​He stood up and looked at me with a smirk.

  ​“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

  ​“What did you do with my stuff? My bed?”

  ​“That was yours?” he asked.

  ​“Yeah, you can’t just go throwing someone’s stuff away.”

  ​“I thought it belonged to some homeless person that used to live here.”

  ​“It’s pink and white with flowers, so, obviously not!”

  ​“Because a woman can’t be homeless?” he snickered.

  ​“Not usually, but who cares. I want my stuff back! Where is it?” My arms were crossed. I was fuming. It was then I noticed dog tags hanging from his neck. A military man.

  ​“That’s your bed there, up against the wall, blankets in that black trash bag.”

  ​I went over to the trash bag, grabbing at it in a fury and turned to him again.

  ​“And my tin can, where’s that?” I had all I could do to control my temper now. How dare he throw away these blankets. The afghan was all I had to remind me of my grandmother. I was named after her. She died one month after I was born, but she had knit this blanket for me. My mother found my name on it while cleaning out her house.

  ​“What are you doing with all that money and why hide it here?”

  ​“Let me do the interrogating. I’ve stayed here the last four years and have never seen a single soul and then, here you are. You come out of nowhere and steal my stuff…”

  ​“I didn’t steal anything. It’s right here,” he said handing me the tin can. I opened the top and looked inside. I wouldn’t know if he had taken any money anyway. I never counted it, but I could see my twenties all rolled up inside.

  ​I headed towards the door, heartbroken my safe haven was gone. I turned to face him. He was standing there with his hands on his hips just staring at me.

  ​“What are you doing to this place anyway?”

  ​“Breathing new life into it. It was my father’s. He died when I was two.”

  ​“Corey?”

  ​He gave me a look of confusion.

  ​“It’s me, Caroline!”

  ​“Caroline,” he repeated continuing to stare. Just when I started to think he had forgotten who I was, he said, “You look so different.”

  ​“I do? I didn’t even recognize you. You’re not scrawny anymore and you’re so tall. Holy shit!”

  ​He didn’t seem as happy to see me as I was to see him. The silence between us made me feel awkward.

  ​“I didn’t know your mom still owned this place. She is never home,” I said.

  ​“Yeah, she landed herself some millionaire boyfriend. She’s always traveling on these extravagant vacations. I get a lot of pictures, but I hardly ever talk to her now. What about you? You still live next door?”

  ​“Yeah. I just graduated college.”

  ​“Congratulations.”

  ​“Thanks.” I stared at Corey, still not believing it was him. He had completely loss his boyish look and was a grown man now. The only looks that remained were his chocolate brown hair and honey colored eyes.

  “I thought you went into the military?”

  ​“Army. I just got back after a four-year tour.”

  ​“How does it feel to be back?”

  ​“Weird. I imagine this is what it’s like when a prisoner gets out of jail after four years. I’m not saying the military was jail, it was just a completely different world.”

  ​Right then I realized I was still in my pajamas; booty shorts and a camisole with no bra on. I can imagine what my hair looked like. I nonchalantly covered my breasts with my arms.

  ​“So, you said you sleep here at night?”

  ​“Yeah. Well, just during the summers. My parents fight a lot now. It used to lull me to sleep growing up, but when I went off to college, I didn’t have to fall asleep to arguing anymore. It was hard coming back here in the summer, until one night I decided I was going to pitch a tent in the backyard. Anything to stop from listening to the fighting. Then it dawned on me, this woodshop was still here. I know it looks like an awful mess, but it’s comforting to me now. It’s like my second home.”

  ​“And now I’ve taken it over. You must hate me.”

  ​“No. I have this tin can, it will lead me far away from here. So, what do you plan on doing with this shop anyway?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation away from me.

  ​“Well, it’s got electricity and that toilet over there still works. I think I am going to make it into my very own bachelor pad.”

  ​“You have your mother’s house right down there. It’d be a dream to live in a house like that.”

  ​“Oh, I don’t know. That’s not how I see it. I love to woodwork like my dad. It makes me feel closer to him. I haven’t been able to build anything since I graduated high school. I literally went right into the army.”

  ​“I heard.”

  ​“Anyway, I’ll build everything right here in his beloved woodshop.”

  ​“No more army?”

  ​“I don’t know. I’m kind of on a mental break right now; in between the army and what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

  ​“I guess I am too, in-between that is, since I just graduated. I’m scared shitless. I don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

  ​“What’d you go to college for?”

  ​“To be a lawyer.”

  ​“Wow, how’d you do?”

  ​Ugh, I hate this question.

  ​“Top of my class.”

  ​“Really? Number one? That’s amazing. Your parents must be so
proud.”

  ​Yeah, right! They didn’t even know I was done with school.

  ​“Yeah. I went back to waitressing. It’s good money.”

  ​“Sounds like you’re far too smart to be doing that.”

  ​“I’ll get out soon. I just need to find myself.”

  ​“Don’t we all,” he said.

  “I better go. I guess I’ll see you around.”

  ​“Stop by anytime. I’ve been away for so long, I hardly know anyone in this town. It would be nice to have a friend.”

  ​I just turned and walked away. I was Corey’s friend…for years. I was his best friend. We did everything together, from cops and robbers to riding bikes, to even playing with my Barbies. He would show up at six o’clock in the morning before I even woke up, knocking on my parents’ door asking my mother for me.

  ​The kids at school made fun of me all the time saying I had cooties, but I didn’t care. I was a tomboy anyway. I would rather be building a dirt jump for my Huffy over painting my nails any day.

  ​Anyway, Corey started getting into trouble at school. He mouthed off to his mother too many times. She sent him away to a private school his freshman year of high school. At first, nothing much had changed and then he made a whole new group of friends and I was of the past. I called him a time or two and he promised to hang out with me, but his words were empty, just like our friendship.

  ​All throughout high school and college, I often wondered what life would be like if he had never transferred to a new school. He was right there next door, but I wasn’t enough for him. He was the only reason I was popular. In fact, when we stopped being friends, I lost a lot of my friends who no longer needed to use me to get to him.

  ​I was heartbroken, but what hurt the most was when I found out he stayed in touch with some other kids from our school. Why them and not me?

  I remember the day he promised to marry me, we were in kindergarten. He told me he was going to buy me this giant house and when you walked through the front door, there would be a giant hot tub that we would spend all day in. I can remember it like yesterday. We were on our bicycles going down his long driveway when he stopped abruptly. “We need to kiss,” he said. When I questioned him, he told me if we were going to play house, he needed to know if he could kiss me. Obviously I wanted to marry Corey, so I let him kiss me. After, he got on his bike and continued pedaling like we hadn’t just shared our first kiss.