It was black with white letters. It was just a name, “Kate,” followed by a phone number.
Tucking it into her recipe book on a nearby counter, she finished clearing everything away and went upstairs to relieve the Taylor girls. Her own triplets were already settled in for the night, so she sent the sitters home and got ready for bed. She was just settling in, exhausted, when Blane came in and barked at her.
“That was a disaster,” he told her.
“I thought it went just fine,” she said, truly believing nothing had gone awry. Everyone had seemed pleased enough.
“You thought wrong. You made me look cheap with that whole half portions topped up with instant potatoes fiasco. I had to open my best bottle of scotch to make up for that shit meal.”
Constance said nothing. There was nothing she could say that would change his mind. He had decided it was her fault and it would continue to be from now on. She held her breath for as long as she could, as if that would somehow magically make the forthcoming tirade go away so that she could sleep. She felt like she might come out of her skin as he raved like a lunatic about pot roast and mashed potatoes. When he was finally done, she rolled over and closed her eyes, only to hear one of the triplets crying and then another . . . and then another.
“Shut those brats up. I have to work tomorrow,” Blane growled from his side of the bed.
Constance dragged herself up out of bed and went to the nursery to feed their daughters so she could get them settled back down. It was tricky when all three were awake at the same time, but she got lucky and the smallest one went back to sleep long enough for her to balance the other two and breastfeed them. Just as Constance was getting the other two back to sleep in their beds, she woke up again. She quickly lifted her up from the bed, hoping she had enough milk left to feed her without having to go warm a bottle in the kitchen. There would be another wrath to face if she had to go rattle around in there. Even the slightest noise would wake him and set him off again.
Sometime later, Constance awoke with a start. She quickly realized she had fallen asleep with the baby still cradled against her breast and was horrified that she had been so careless. How long could she stand this utter exhaustion? How long could she endure this marriage? She had been duped, first into marrying someone who was not the man she had thought him to be and then into an unwanted pregnancy. None of this was what she had signed up for, but she loved her girls; despite how they came to be or who their father was, she loved them with all her heart.
Putting her sleeping daughter back into her bed, Constance returned to the bedroom and climbed into bed. Blane was fast asleep, snoring loudly beside her. She sighed and pulled a pillow over her ear to drown him out, finally drifting off herself. If she was lucky, she’d get a few hours’ sleep before his alarm went off and she had to get up to make him breakfast.CHAPTER TWO“Kate?” Constance said nervously to the female that answered her call.
“One moment, please,” the voice replied.
It was the following morning. Another argument over breakfast being too cold, which had been his fault for taking a call at about the time she was putting it on his plate, had resulted in one more broken plate and food all over the floor. His tantrums were escalating. There was no doubt about that. Her misery was quickly turning into full blown depression and there was no end in sight - unless she got out of here.
“This is Kate,” a voice finally replied from the other end.
“Kate? This is Constance Michaels. We met last night at my husband’s dinner for investors,” Constance told her.
“Constance, do me a favor, please. Take the card you were given and rub it between your hands until it’s nice and warm. Then look on the blank side and read me what it says.”
Constance furrowed her brow, not comprehending for a moment, but then realized there must be something heat activated about the card. It seemed odd that the woman she got it from would need additional confirmation than just the fact that she had met her at the party, but she decided to just go along with it. Rubbing the card until her palms felt hot against it, she opened them and turned it over, surprised to find there was a single word on it. She read it aloud.
“Matthew 6:34”
“Thank you,” the voice replied. “Hold on for just a moment.”