Playing with the Hand I Was Dealt

by Nikki Jenkins

Overview

Nikki Jenkins's novel imagines the life of a woman who experiences the best and worst of everyone around her—and tries to redeem every relationship she has, no matter how crazy and convoluted they become.

Natalie Kelley's world is in danger of falling apart, and she is the only one who can keep that from happening. Her husband, Anderson—who has an undeniable history of adultery—is once again preoccupied with something other than work. And that's not all. Natalie has to deal with her own spoiled mother, drug-addicted sister, man-crazy best friend, and her own children who are too young to take care of themselves.

Natalie goes through three days of her life, desperately clinging to the only life she knows and supporting everyone who relies on her, all at once. Her husband's actions verge on the edge of abusive, and it is only a matter of time before Natalie discovers what has been drawing him further away from their love—and the results will shock everyone.

Her struggles are contrasted with flashbacks that help make sense of the present, showing her relationships as they had been, and as they might yet become again. Through it all, Natalie strives to be available for everyone, but is even her indomitable spirit up to the task? Playing With the Hand I Was Dealt is an insightful debut about a woman's attempts to redefine "normal" in a life gone mad.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781593090463
Publisher:	Strebor Books
Publication date:	08/07/2007
Edition description:	Original
Pages:	240
Product dimensions:	6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.70(d)

About the Author

Nikki Jenkins is a graduate of The Ohio State University. She lives with her two children and fiancé in Columbus, Ohio.

Read an Excerpt

Playing with the Hand I Was Dealt

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By Nikki Jenkins

Strebor Books

Copyright © 2007 Nikki Jenkins
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9781593090463

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CHAPTER ONE

Saturday Evening

Natalie had been working all day and by evening the exhaustion hit her hard. She collapsed onto the leather chaise that once belonged to her Gigi and Pappi, her father's deceased parents. The chair overlooked the garden she took such pride in. Natalie had to imagine the view from the window. Darkness had erased the beautiful landscape that was her backyard. It was a scene that she woke to each and every morning, the colorful hydrangeas, the graceful Jacqueline Kennedy roses and despite it being a common flower, Natalie loved the beauty and serenity of the rows and rows of black-eyed Susans. She smiled at the garden below, imagining what had started out as a means to calm her frazzled nerves and eliminate her twitching eye, but had evolved into a hobby and an art.

The master bedroom was dark except for the glow from the nightlight, an amenity courtesy of her son, Kendall. He didn't want his mother and father to sleep in the total darkness that night brings. He assumed that because he was afraid of things that go bump in the night that they were, too. Little did he know that it was the darkness that comforted his mother. She could hide from her reality and never have to admit that there was a problem under the cover of pitchblack.

Natalie hoped and prayed that her son didn't lose that conscientiousness as he grew older. Lord knows most men haven't a clue as to what it means to care about other's feelings, especially the feelings of women. Natalie figured that if she couldn't find that perfect man, in terms of one who would be cognizant of and responsive to her needs, she sure as hell would make certain that her son was as close to perfect as possible. He was a work in progress, her work in progress, and by the time he started dating, he would be ready if it killed her. She swore on her grandparents' graves that her son would not be any other woman's headache, the same type of headache his father was to her.

It had been several hours since she had put her two small children to bed. The feeling was strong to check in on them, but comfort held her down, its grip tight. She had to push herself to rise from her seated position. The chaise eased her aching bones. Sometimes it seemed as if her children were growing up way, way too fast. She thought back to the day she gave birth. Despite the pain that accompanied their delivery, she decided almost instantly that she wanted to have more. But it was Anderson's insistence that they wait until their "lives were more stable" that caused her to have to put her maternal desire on hold. Something nagged at her that there were other reasons for his hesitance, but without concrete evidence she had to hold back her suspicions. Besides, she had two beautiful babies to occupy her time and that they did.

Natalie, moving slowly, rose from the comfort of her chair and made her way into the nursery. There they were-the two children she considered to be her life, her reason for living. And as far as she was concerned, they were her reason for waking in the morning. She could remember vividly having those same feelings for Anderson, and how the feelings for him were replaced the day she gave birth to her blessed twins.

She walked around the room, hanging clothes that had sat in a basket for days. The gentle snores of her children made her smile. She leaned down and kissed each one, brushing back the hair on Kayla's head. They smelled of baby lotion and powder.

She hated that her feelings for Anderson had waned after their birth. However, as far as she was concerned, they naturally needed her much more than he did, and he would simply have to deal with it. She could tell there were times he missed having her undivided attention. He seemed at times to even be jealous of his own children. But attempting to be an adult, he'd try to push past his childlike behavior, most times falling short.

"I miss you, Nat," he would whine while the twins cried for her in their room. She was torn about who needed her more.

Natalie found it difficult to juggle caring for her children and then having to cater to her husband. After they were born, for months she would fall into bed exhausted each night after having to care for two newborns and be attentive to Anderson at the same time. She cooked, cleaned, and washed clothes daily. She would cry at night when he would climb on top of her, have his way with her, and then fall off to sleep. He ignored her desire to rest. He ignored her request for help. And he ignored her pleas for a break. She hated him for it. She felt trapped, but didn't know what to do or how to fix it.

The twins were sleeping peacefully in their cribs. Nat, girl, you are so crazy. Let those children be, she reprimanded herself silently and smiled contently.

The telephone rang and forgetting how sound her children slept, she attempted to hurry through the nursery door. As she hastened through the room, she stumbled over building blocks and banged her knee on the closet door that sat ajar. Biting her lip to muffle the sound of her pain, she closed the door behind her and moved quickly back to her bedroom. Natalie reached for the handset, almost knocking the receiver onto the floor, and out of breath, she blew her greeting into the telephone.

"Hello."

Nothing.

"Hello?"

Still nothing.

"Hello!"

Dial tone.

That was the third time today the phone had rang and no one was on the receiving end. Or at least no one responded. Natalie placed the cordless phone back in its cradle and returned to the chaise, but her thoughts started to wander.

Who could have called the wrong number that many times in one day? Once, twice maybe if they were checking, but three times? What if it was another woman calling for Anderson? He'd say she was crazy, that she had an overactive imagination. Still, he had strayed from her once before. She might have forgiven, but she never forgot. Who could blame her for being a bit paranoid after that incident, after all?

The phone's ring jarred her from her thoughts. She let it ring three times before picking it up. Her concern now wasn't so much about waking the children. Instead, she worried about what she would or wouldn't hear on the other end. If this is another hang up, I'll scream! she thought to herself.

"Hello?" she questioned the person on the receiving end. Ah, a familiar voice. Her knee began to throb and she rubbed it to soothe the pain.

"Oh, what's up, Les?"

"Hey, can't talk long. I'm on my way out. Are you doing anything Monday?"

"Monday? No, I'm not doing anything."

"Meet me at the gym."

"Okay, I'll meet you there, but why?"

"Look, I don't have time to explain. Make sure that you meet me there."

"Leslie, this had better be good. You know how I hate surprises."

"Natalie, just be there."

"Where are you..." Before she could finish her question, Leslie had hung up.

Who knew what plan Leslie was cooking up now. Probably some scam to meet a man, using Natalie, her married best friend, as bait. Oh well, she was free then so why not show up and go along for the ride.

(c) 2007 by Nikki Jenkins

Continues...

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Excerpted from Playing with the Hand I Was Dealt by Nikki Jenkins Copyright © 2007 by Nikki Jenkins. Excerpted by permission.
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