Taylor“Turn on some music,” Kennedy prompts.I link my iPhone to the Bluetooth speaker in the living room. I scroll through my playlists: Running, Reading, Driving, School, Lite, Heavy, 80s, and Random. I select the Random playlist. “Stitches” by Shawn Mendes fills the room. I adjust the volume, so it won’t interfere with conversations this evening. Back at the kitchen island, I grab a tumbler and pour two fingers of Jim Beam to calm my nerves. As I finish my drink, I hear Jackson greet guests on the deck. “Showtime,” Kennedy sings as she opens the doors for the guests. Jackson enters, followed by a slender red-head and a tall, tan, blonde man. He motions to the couple. “This is Red and Isaac.” Jackson extends his arm toward me. “And this is Taylor.”The redhead extends her right hand. Her grip is firm and succinct. “I'm Madison. Jackson likes to push my buttons by calling me Red.” Her eyes move from Jackson back to mine. “Nice to finally meet you.”“I thought she’d be taller and...

TaylorOn the Fourth of July, sunlight warms my face, awakening me from my dreams. I roll to my left, noticing a note on my nightstand. Sitting up, I unfold the note. Had to run to the YMCA until noon. Be ready. We are going out for lunch and shopping all afternoon. Love,KennedyI glance at my phone on the charger. It’s already ten. Slipping from bed, I shuffle to the kitchen. I grab a Diet Coke and a protein bar for breakfast. Mentally calculate the time I need to shower and be ready by noon for Kennedy, and I climb back into bed while I eat my bar. I scroll through social media and a few emails. My phone vibrates as a new text alert sounds.Jorge: r u up?Me: am nowJorge: sorry go back 2 sleep Me: JK Jorge: so u were up. Nice. Can I call?I type Y-e-s, then decide to delete it. I scroll through my contacts and FaceTime his phone.Jorge’s face lights up my screen. He is lying on a pillow, his hair a disheveled disaster. “Good morning,” he greets with a raspy voice.“What’s up?”

BOOK TWO: THE DEEDTaylorOn Friday, with the closing of the Mustang trunk, my time in Chicago ends. I cram all that I treasure tightly inside. My new life and new opportunities lie at the end of this road trip. My heart beats excitedly as I turn the key; the engine roars to life. I unlatch two locks then press the button allowing the top to open. Sunlight warms my face as the top folds neatly in back. The old-school sounds of Train's, Play That Song escape the speakers. As the song ends, I fasten my seatbelt before connecting my iPhone to the auxiliary cable. I scroll through my playlists, selecting 'Road Trip'. Aerosmith tickles my ears as I pull from my assigned spot in the lot. Excitement courses through my veins as the over eight hours of highway, traffic, and tunes lie in front of me. I plotted my route yesterday, choosing to stop in The Quad Cities and Des Moines along my way. My goal is two stops for restroom, gas, and food, allowing me to reach my destination by dinner. Jack

TaylorThe memory fading, I laugh out loud at the fact I'm driving and hearing motorcycles, led my mind to the topic of vibrators. It seems my mind always holds a predisposition for sexual thoughts. Jackson and Kennedy tease me about this often. I’m so glad they returned to my life. No one knows me like they do. They know all my secrets, my heartaches, and the hard knocks life bestowed upon me. The three of us witnessed the sucky parts of life over and over before age twenty-two. Together we have cried, we have fought through, and we have emerged on the other side. My relationships with Chris and John are just colossal speed bumps on our road of life.If I had pressed assault charges against Chris, would I have continued to choose the men I did? I vow to avoid men for the next year. No dates, no hook-ups - I need time to regroup. I’ll use my time with Jackson and Kennedy to work through my issues with the wrong type of men. I nod to myself. I mentally place ‘seek a counselor’ on the to

TaylorKennedy opens her notebook, flips a few pages, then begins. She states, “These are the notes I made for our phone call we planned for tonight. Since you’re here and will live with us, some items may need tweaking. My appointment with Dr. Matthews is on Tuesday. At that time, we’ll need to discuss our timeline and Taylor’s appointment with Dr. Matthews. All of this will depend on the method the doctor decides works best to harvest her eggs,” Kennedy informs. Jackson, sensing my question, says, “Dr. Matthews is the fertility specialist they referred us to. I already endured my visit to prove my boys are strong swimmers.” To this I laugh, nearly spewing wine everywhere. Mental note: refrain from sipping wine during our future delicate conversations. Jackson’s cheeks redden with embarrassment. I assume we will have many embarrassing conversations in the months to come.“Our planning and decisions will begin on Tuesday night,” Kennedy continues. She shares the items we will discuss