ISBN: 9780778361046
Publication Date: August 25, 2020
Publisher: MIRA Books
YOU meets FATAL ATTRACTION in this up-all-night psychological thriller about a lonely empty-nester's growing obsession with a young mother who shares her name.
It all begins on an ordinary fall morning, when Kelly Medina
gets a call from her son's pediatrician to confirm her upcoming
"well-baby" appointment. It's a cruel mistake; her son left for
college a year ago, and Kelly has never felt so alone. The receptionist quickly
apologizes: there's another mother in town named Kelly Medina, and she must have
gotten their numbers switched.
But Kelly can't stop thinking about the woman who shares her
name. Lives in her same town. Has a son she can still hold, and her whole life
ahead of her. She can't help looking for her: at the grocery store, at the gym,
on social media. When Kelly just happens to bump into the single mother
outside that pediatrician's office, it's simple curiosity getting the better of
her.
Their unlikely friendship brings Kelly a renewed sense of
purpose, taking care of this young woman and her adorable baby boy. But that
friendship quickly turns to obsession, and when one Kelly disappears, well, the
other one may know why.
BUY LINKS:
When I Was You is a fairly quick psychological thriller that kept me engaged throughout. It involves Kelly Medina, who gets a phone call from her old pediatrician that she has an appointment for her infant. The problem? Her son isn't an infant. Realizing that there is another woman in town with her exact same name, empty-nester Kelly seeks out the woman out of curiosity.
I don't want to talk plot too much. There are a couple of surprises and twists. While I did guess a few of them,, I didn't put all of the pieces together. Kelly is a very unreliable character and I spent a lot of the book wondering if she was seeing crazy. The ending was a complete surprise. I do recommend this one.
Here's a sneak peek:
Chapter One
It was a Monday morning in early October when I first heard about
you. I was getting out of the shower when my phone rang. After throwing on a
robe and cinching it, I ran into my bedroom, snatching my cell off the
nightstand.
Unknown number.
Normally, I let those go. But I’d already run all the way in
here, and I thought maybe it was a call from Dr. Hillerman’s office.
“Hello?” I answered, breathless. Goosebumps rose on my pale
flesh, so I pulled the robe tighter around me. My sopping wet hair dripped down
my back.
“Is this Kelly Medina?”
Great. A salesperson. “Yes,” I answered, wishing I
hadn’t picked up.
“Hi, Kelly, this is Nancy from Dr. Cramer’s office. I’m
calling to remind you of your well-baby appointment this Friday at ten
am.”
“Well-baby?” I let out a surprised laugh. “You’re about
nineteen years too late.”
“Excuse me?” Nancy asked, clearly confused.
“My son isn’t a baby,” I explained. “He’s nineteen.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Nancy immediately replied. I could hear
the clicking of a keyboard. “I apologize. I called the wrong Kelly
Medina.”
“There’s another Kelly Medina in Folsom?” My maiden name had
been Smith. There are a million other Kelly Smiths in the world. In California,
even. But since I’d married Rafael, I’d never met another Kelly Medina. Until
now.
Until you.
“Yes. Her child is a new patient.”
It felt like yesterday when my child was a new patient. I
remembered sitting in the waiting room of Dr. Cramer’s office, holding my tiny
newborn, waiting for the nurse to call my name.
“I have no idea how this happened. It’s like your
numbers got switched in the system or something,” Nancy muttered, and I wasn’t
sure if she was talking to me or herself. “Again, I’m so sorry.”
I assured her it was fine, and hung up. My hair was still
wet from the shower, but instead of blow-drying it I headed downstairs to make
some tea first. On my way, I passed Aaron’s room. The door was closed, so I
pressed it open with my palm. The wood was cold against my skin. Shivering, I
took in his neatly made bed, the movie posters tacked to the wall, the darkened
desktop computer in the corner.
Leaning against the doorframe of Aaron’s room, my mind flew
back to the day he left for college. I remembered his broad smile, his
sparkling eyes. He’d been so anxious to leave here. To leave me. I
should’ve been happy for him. He was doing what I’d raised him to do.
Boys were supposed to grow up and leave.
In my head I knew that. But in my heart it was hard to let
him go.
After closing Aaron’s door, I headed down to the
kitchen.
The house was silent. It used to be filled with noise –
Aaron’s little feet stomping down the hallway, his sound effects as he played
with toys, his chattering as he got older. Now it was always quiet. Especially
during the week when Rafael stayed in the Bay Area for work. Aaron had been
gone over a year. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. But, actually, it
seemed to get worse over time. The constant silence.
The phone call had thrown me. For a second it felt like I’d
gone back in time, something I longed for most days. When Aaron was born
everyone told me to savor all the moments because it went by too quickly. It
was hard for me to imagine. I hadn’t had the easiest life growing up, and it
certainly hadn’t flown by. And the nine months I was pregnant with Aaron had
gone on forever, every day longer than the one before.
But they were right.
Aaron’s childhood was fleeting. The moments were elusive
like a butterfly, practically impossible to catch. And now it was gone. He was
a man. And I was alone.
Rafael kept encouraging me to find a job to fill my time,
but I’d already tried that. When Aaron first left, I applied for a bunch of
jobs. Since I’d been out of work for so long, no one wanted to hire me. That’s
when Christine suggested I volunteer somewhere. So I started helping out at a
local food bank, handing out food once a week and occasionally doing a little
administrative stuff. I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t enough. It barely filled any
of my time. Besides, I was one of many volunteers. I wasn’t needed. Not the way
Aaron had needed me when he was a child.
When he left, the Kelly I’d always known ceased to exist.
Vanished into thin air. I was merely a ghost now, haunting my house, the
streets, the town.
As the water boiled, I thought about you. Thought about how
lucky you were to have a baby and your whole life ahead of you. I wondered what
you were doing right now. Not sitting alone in your big, silent house, I bet.
No, you were probably chasing your cute little baby around your sunny living
room, the floor littered with toys, as he crawled on all fours and laughed.
Was your child a boy? The lady on the phone didn’t say, but
that’s what I pictured. A chubby, smiling little boy like my Aaron.
The kettle squealed, and I flinched. I poured the boiling
water in a mug and steam rose from it, circling the air in front of my face.
Tossing in the tea bag, I breathed it in, leaning my back against the cool tile
counter. The picture window in front of me revealed our perfectly manicured
front yard – bright green grass lined with rose bushes. I’d always been
particular about the roses. When Aaron was a kid he always wanted to help with
the pruning, but I never let him. Afraid he’d mess them up, I guess. Seemed
silly now.
Heart pinching, I blew out a breath.
I wondered about your yard. What did it look like? Did
you have roses? I wondered if you’d let your son help you prune them. I
wondered if you’d make the same mistakes I had.
Bringing the mug to my lips, I took a tiny sip of the hot
tea. It was mint, my favorite. I allowed the flavors to sit on my tongue a
minute before swallowing it down. The refrigerator hummed. The ice shifted in
the ice maker. My shoulders tensed slightly. I rolled them out, taking another
sip.
Shoving off the counter, I was headed toward the stairs when
my cell buzzed inside my pocket. My pulse spiked. It couldn’t be Rafael. He was
a professor and his first class had already started.
Aaron?
Nope. It was a text from Christine.
Going to yoga this morning?
I’d already showered. I was about to tackle my latest
organization project. Today was the kitchen pantry. Last week I’d bought a
bunch of new containers and bins. Friday I’d spent the day labeling all of
them. After taking the weekend off since Rafael was home, I was anxious to
continue with it. I’d already organized several closets downstairs, but my plan
was to work my way through all the closets and cabinets in the house.
Usually I loved yoga, but I had way too much to do
today.
No, I typed. Then bit my lip. Backspaced. Stared at
the phone. My own reflection emerged on the slick screen - disheveled hair,
pale face, dark circles under the eyes.
You need to get out more. Exercise. It’s not healthy to
sit in the house all day. Rafael’s voice echoed in my head.
The organizing would still be here tomorrow. Besides, who
was I kidding? I’d probably only spend a couple of hours organizing before
abandoning my project to read online blogs and articles, or dive into the
latest murder mystery I was reading.
I typed, yes, then sent it and hurried to my room to
get ready.
Thirty minutes later, I was parking in front of the gym.
When I stepped out, a cool breeze whisked over my arms. After three scorching
hot summer months, I welcomed it. Fall had always been my favorite season. I
relished the festiveness of it. Pumpkins, apples, rustic colors. But mostly it
was the leaves falling and being raked away. The bareness of the trees. The
shedding of the old to make room for the new. An end, but also a beginning.
Although, we weren’t quite there yet. The leaves were still
green, and by afternoon the air would be warm. But in the mornings and evenings
we got a tiny sip of a fall, enough to make me thirsty for more.
Securing the gym bag on my shoulder, I walked briskly through
the lot. Once inside, it was even colder. The AC blasted as if it was a
hundred-degree day. That’s okay. It gave me more of an incentive to
break a sweat. Smiling at the receptionist, I pulled out my keys for her to
scan my card. Only my card wasn’t hanging from my key ring.
I fished around in my bag, but it wasn’t there either.
Flushing, I offered the bored receptionist an apologetic smile. “I seem to have
misplaced my tag. Can you look me up? Kelly Medina?’
Her eyes widened. “Funny. There was another lady in here
earlier today with the same name.”
My heart pounded. I’d been attending this gym for years and
never had anyone mentioned you before. I wondered how long you’d worked out
here. “Is she still here?” My gaze scoured the lobby as if I might recognize
you.
“No. She was here super early.”
Of course you were. I used to be, too, when Aaron was an
infant.
“Okay. You’re all checked in, Kelly,” the receptionist said,
buzzing me in.
Clutching my gym bag, I made my way up the stairs toward the
yoga room, thoughts of you flooding my mind. A few young women walked next to
me, wearing tight tank tops and pants, gym bags hanging off their shoulders.
They were laughing and chatting loudly, their long ponytails bouncing behind
their heads. I tried to say excuse me, to move past them, but they couldn’t
hear me. Impatient, I bit my lip and walked slowly behind them. Finally, I made
it to the top. They headed toward the cardio machines, and I pressed open the
door to the yoga room.
I spotted Christine already sitting on her mat. Her blond
hair was pulled back into a perfectly coifed ponytail. Her eyes were bright and
her lips were shiny. I smoothed down my unruly brown hair and licked my dry
lips.
She waved me over with a large smile. “You made it.”
“Yep.” I dropped my mat and bag next to hers.
“I wasn’t sure. It’s been awhile.”
Shrugging, I sat down on my mat. “Been busy.”
“Oh, I totally get that.” She waved away my words with a
flick of her slender wrist. “Maddie and Mason have had a bazillion activities
lately. I’ve been running around town like a crazy person. I honestly feel like
I’m going insane.”
“Sounds rough,” I muttered, slipping off my flip-flops. This
was the problem with getting married and having a kid so young. Most of my
friends were still raising families.
“I know, right? I can’t wait until they’re adults and I can
do whatever I want.”
“Yeah, it’s the best,” I said sarcastically.
Her mouth dropped. “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t talking about
you…” Her pale cheeks turned pink. “I know how much you miss Aaron. It’s
just…”
I shook my head and offered her a smile “Relax. I get it.”
Christine and I met years ago in a yoga class. She’s one of
those women with almost no self-awareness. It’s what first drew to me to her. I
loved how raw and real she was. Other people shied away from her, unable to
handle her filter-less statements. But I found her refreshing and, honestly,
pretty entertaining.
“I remember how insane it was when Aaron was younger,”
I said. “One year he signed up for baseball and basketball. They
overlapped for a bit, and I swear I was taking him to a game or practice like
every day.”
“Yes!” Christine said excitedly, relief evident in her
expression. “Sometimes it’s all just too much.”
“Yeah, sometimes it is,” I agreed.
The class was about to start and the room was filling up. It
was mainly women, but there were some men. Most of them were with their wives
or girlfriends. I’d tried getting Rafael to come with me before, but he laughed
as if the idea was preposterous.
“Remember when there were only a few of us in this class?”
Christine asked, her gaze sweeping the room.
I nodded, glancing around. There were so many new people I
didn’t know. Not that I was surprised. Folsom had grown a lot in the ten years
I’d lived here. New people moved here every day.
Staring at all the strangers crowding around us, I shivered,
my thoughts drifting back to you. We hadn’t even met, and yet I felt like I
knew you. We had the same name, the same gym, the same pediatrician for our
child.
It felt like kismet. Fate had brought you here to me. I was
certain of it.
But why?
About the author:
Amber Garza has had a passion for the written word
since she was a child making books out of notebook paper and staples. Her
hobbies include reading and singing. Coffee and wine are her drinks of choice
(not necessarily in that order). She writes while blaring music, and talks
about her characters like they're real people. She lives with her husband and
two kids in Folsom, California, which is—no joke—home to another Amber Garza.
SOCIAL:
Author Website: http://www.ambergarza.com/
TWITTER: @ambermg1
Insta: @ambergarzaauthor
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