Read Online Leap of Faith by Jamie Blair - Free Book Online

yet.
    As if to prove my point, when we get to the house, there’s a note on the door with my name on it.
    Leah,
    I’m sorry. I would’ve called, but I didn’t know how to reach you.
    My dad doesn’t want to rent to someone with a baby. You were right. I should’ve asked him first. I feel like a jerk.
    I’m really sorry.
    Chris
    I’m clutching the paper so tight, it shakes in my hand.
    What am I going to do?
    What the hell am I going to do?
    I’m breathing hard, and spots of light are flashing in my eyes. I’m about to pass out.
    I ease down onto the porch step with Addy asleep against my shoulder.
    “I give up,” I whisper. “I give up. I can’t do this anymore.”
    My eyes blur with tears, and I close them. I don’t want to feel them trailing down my cheeks, but I do.
    I can’t go back to the motel. I can’t stay here. Where else can we go?
    I think about home, the feel of the dirty, gummy carpet under my feet, the water that smells like rotten eggs and turns the toilet bowl orange, the smell of smoke that clings to my clothes and hair.
    Mom high.
    Mom drunk.
    I shake my head. I’m not going back there. I’m not taking Addy back there. This is my way out, and it has to work. It’s my only chance.
    “Come on, Addy,” I say, standing up. “Let’s get out of here.”
    I let Chris’s note drift to the ground and watch it blow across the grass.
    With nothing else to do, I drive around for a while thinking, trying to come up with a new plan. We’re going to have to stay at a hotel until I can find us another place to live.
    I stop at a Quality Inn and lug Addy inside. Going from the bright, hot sun in the car and parking lot, to the dim, air-conditioned lobby makes her startle awake. She blinks and yawns. I hold my breath, praying she doesn’t start crying. Luckily, she closes her eyes again and falls back asleep.
    “Can I help you?” There’s a woman in a blue blazer and a crisp white shirt behind the front desk.
    I step up to the desk and clear my throat. “Yes. I’d like to know how much a room would be for the night.”
    “I’m sorry, we don’t have any available rooms for the next two days. There’s a big televangelist convention in Jacksonville with a bunch of those TV ministers.” She waits for me to nod, like I know who she’s talking about. “Most of the hotels in the area are booked.”
    “Oh. Okay. Thanks anyway.”
    I walk back to the car with an instant headache.
    I stop at two more hotels and one seedy-looking motel with a dry, cracked in-ground pool taken over by weeds. Even the skanky motel is booked. The fat, sweaty guy behind the desk there tells me that even all the campsites in the area are full. “Good luck,” he says, chuckling and shaking his head.
    I don’t know what to do, so I get back on the highway. Addy starts to fuss, and a look at the clock tells me it’s time for a bottle. Since there’s nowhere to get off or pull over, I drive with her screaming for another fifteen minutes until I get to a rest stop. It’s lucky that they have a drinking fountain, because I didn’t make any bottles before we checked out of the hotel this morning, figuring we’d be settled in our new place by now. Stupid me.
    Sitting on a bench in the shade, I watch Addy drink her formula. All I wanted to do was give her a nice place to live.
    My shoulders and chin feel like gravity is sucking them downward.
    I’m sad. Sad and defeated.
    But I didn’t steal Addy and make it this far to let some baby hater like Mr. Buckridge get the best of me. Maybe if Chris’s dad met Addy, he’d see that she’s a good baby and let us live there. After all, Aunt Ivy likes Addy. . . .
    It hits me like a box of rocks dropped from the sky. Ivy’s my way in. I can hear her with the phone in her hand saying, “He does what I tell him to. I’m his favorite auntie Ivy.”
    Hope bubbles in my stomach and makes me giddy. I probably shouldn’t do it. I shouldn’t play Ivy like this, but there’s no