The Unbelievable Life of Lynn Carmina

Chapter 16: Happy Home, I Think Not

Because of some awesome urging and  A LOT  of coffee, I just got this chapter ready for you & I think it is like, 4 pages at  least :)

Lynn gets home, but what will happen when she does?

Please read and enjoy.

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Recap chap 15:

“Julien, I’m sorry. I should have told you, but I couldn’t. It was yours… it was your baby.” I finished quietly with tears falling from my eyes.

He was stunned into silence. He just stood there staring and not even blinking. I had no idea what he was thinking and I had no desire to stick around and find out. His arms fell limply at his sides and I took the opportunity to run.

Although tears blurred my vision, I ran, like Forrest Gump, straight out of the room, slamming the door behind me and I just kept running, until I felt like stopping, which took a very long time.

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Chapter 16: Happy Home, I Think Not

I stumbled in the door feeling useless and rather ashamed. I never wanted him to know, yet in anger, I blurted it out. Now he knew my secret… that I had lost our child. What on earth did he think about that? Clearly he was stunned, but he seemed as though he expected it. Why? There was no way he could have known that the child I lost was connected to him until this morning.

After I stopped running this morning, after the tears stopped streaming down my face, I found the strength to call myself a cab and get my car from the bar parking lot. I slowly, almost automatically drove the familiar expressway to my ‘happy home’. What would await me when I got there?

When I opened the door, I was charged by three sets of hungry arms, literally. The force of my children’s hugs nearly sent me tumbling to the ground. I embraced them each and kissed them on the cheek. I looked into their eyes and felt only love. Having these beautiful children was the best thing I had ever done, even if I had done it with the wrong man. They helped to heal my heart somehow, but the pain of losing, no killing my first child never completely healed.

“Hey guys. Miss me?” I asked with a smile. It had been a long time since I had smiled or felt happy and satisfied, but I would not let this ruin my homecoming.

“Yes mama, I did. I made you a picture, isn’t it pretty?” My 6 years old daughter Alura asked.

She had brown hair cut like Dora the explorers and big hazel eyes, just like mine. In fact, all of my kids had my eyes, thank God for small favors. If they looked just like Mark, I think I would resent them. Alura was my baby and we called her Lury cakes or cakes for short. She was a mini-me, as I liked to call her.

“Thanks cakes. I love it. Why don’t you go hang it on the fridge.” I responded with a smile. I really love my baby.

“I made one too mommy. Lury and me spent all morning coloring and playing with playdoh until daddy yelled at us for making a mess. He’s so mean.” Mariah announced in a way over dramatic tone and rolled her eyes.

Mariah, my 8 year old daughter was a mini-me too, with brown hair and my eyes, only she was much bitchier than I was. How is that even possible? I thought I was the biggest bitch there was, but leave it Mariah to be an even bigger one. She was my drama queen, the most dramatic there was.

I often joked that she would be an actress, or a stripper because she really liked to shake her ass while dancing and walked around the house in undies and a half tank top 90% of the time. She had no shame and made no bones about being half naked in front of people she barely knew. So, I guess stripper it is!