by Eva LeNoir
The Wish
EVA LENOIR
Edited by: SARAH GOODMAN at Sassi Editing Service
Diversity Edits by: RENITA MCKINNEY at A Book A Day
Cover Art by: LORI JACKSON Designs
CONTENTS
Also by Eva LeNoir
Preface
Prologue- Jaidyn
Chapter 1- Marlon
Chapter 2- Jaidyn
Chapter 3- Jaidyn
Chapter 4- Jaidyn
Chapter 5- Marlon
Chapter 6- Jaidyn
Chapter 7- Marlon
Chapter 8- Marlon
Chapter 9- Jaidyn
Chapter 10- Marlon
Chapter 11- Jaidyn
Chapter 12- Marlon
Chapter 13- Jaidyn
Chapter 14- Marlon
Chapter 15- Jaidyn
Chapter 16- Marlon
Chapter 17- Jaidyn
Chapter 18- Marlon
Chapter 19- Jaidyn
Chapter 20- Marlon
Chapter 21- Jaidyn
Chapter 22- Marlon
Chapter 23- Jaidyn
Chapter 24- Marlon
Chapter 25- Jaidyn
Chapter 26- Marlon
Chapter 27- Jaidyn
Chapter 28- Marlon
Chapter 29- Jaidyn
Chapter 30- Marlon
Chapter 31- Marlon
Chapter 32- Jaidyn
Chapter 33- Marlon
Chapter 34- Jaidyn
Chapter 35- Marlon
Chapter 36- Jaidyn
Chapter 37- Jaidyn
Chapter 38- Marlon
Chapter 39- Jaidyn
Chapter 40- Jaidyn
Chapter 41- Marlon
Chapter 42- Jaidyn
Chapter 43- Marlon
Chapter 44- Jaidyn
Chapter 45- Marlon
Chapter 46- Marlon
Chapter 47- Jaidyn
Chapter 48- Jaidyn
Chapter 49- Marlon
Chapter 50- Jaidyn
Chapter 51- Marlon
Chapter 52- Jaidyn
Chapter 53- Marlon
Chapter 54- Jaidyn
Chapter 55- Marlon
Chapter 56- Jaidyn
Chapter 57- Marlon
Chapter 58- Jaidyn
Chapter 59- Marlon
Chapter 60- Jaidyn
Chapter 61- Marlon
Chapter 62- Marlon
Chapter 63- Jaidyn
Epilogue- Marlon
Acknowledgements
About the author
Copyright © 2020 by Eva LeNoir
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in the a book review.
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Also by Eva LeNoir
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To Janett Gomez,
Your light will be missed, always.
“Tomorrow came
with the illusion of today
even more fleeting than yesterday
it came
like it always comes
and went
like it’s always gone
like a favorite song
in its final seconds
Tomorrow came and left
leaving nothing
nothing...
but a familiar
lingering
sense of loss behind.”
― Sanober Khan, A touch, a tear, a tempest
Preface
“Everyone, real or imagined, deserves the open destiny of life.”
----Grace Paley
“A conversation with my father”
When I started this book, I already knew how it would end. In fact, the ending was the whole reason for the beginning. I could have chosen any disease or ailment for this story, but I chose Huntington’s because of the violence it inflicts on its victims. The mental and physical chaos it creates not only takes a toll on the person who has symptoms but also on the direct family. This disease basically takes you hostage. Mentally, physically, emotionally.
I learned a lot during my research, I also cried a lot.
You see, the Huntington gene is hereditary, a fifty-fifty chance of passing it on to your children. You’d think that fifty percent would mean at least one child would be spared but that’s not how it works. It’s like tossing a coin, every time.
With that in mind, I felt it was important to give these courageous souls a voice. The caregivers, the family, those suffering. I wanted to say, through my work of fiction, that I see them and I think of them and more than anything, I hope the community of doctors who are working tirelessly on this disease, will find a cure in our lifetime.
Thank you, Erin O’Brien, for sharing your family history and your experience as a caregiver with me so that I may tell this story as best I could.
If you have questions or need help, you can find support with the Huntington’s Disease organizations throughout the world.
US: https://hdsa.org/
UK: https://www.hda.org.uk/
AUS: https://brainfoundation.org.au/disorders/huntingtons-disease/
Before you begin reading, I want you to know that I took creative liberties. There are events and realities that I ignored for the benefit of my plot and the arc of my characters. I am aware of these factual inconsistencies but chose to keep them. Call it artistic license.
Thank you for choosing this story as your next read. As you walk down the path in Marlon and Jaidyn’s shoes, know that the one lesson I learned as I wrote these words was the importance of family. It doesn’t matter if your family is biological or if it’s chosen. It doesn’t matter if that family is chosen for you. What matters is how you show up. How you love them. The most important gift you can give those you love is, yourself.
Be well and enjoy.
Prologue
Jaidyn
Seven years earlier…
“Are you kidding me, right now?” I heard Daddy yelling. He never did that. He always spoke so kindly to Mom and me. Why was he so angry?
I stepped out of
my bedroom, careful not to avoid the noise floorboards and made my way to the landing so I could hear what they were saying.
“Oh, you’re one to talk,” Mom yelled back, sniffling like she was crying.
I slid down the wall so no one could see me, my knees feeling like jelly. I didn’t like this. I hated that they were angry at each other.
Why are they yelling?
My friend Lola told me all about when her parents started living in different houses. She loved it because she got to decorate two rooms instead of one. And her daddy always bought her new clothes and shoes every time she lived with him.
I didn’t want more clothes and I had all the shoes I could ever need. And Mom and Daddy always seemed so happy, watching Casablanca in the theater room or helping me with my homework. Mom was there when I first got my period, explained what it meant, why it was happening. Daddy would take me to ballet class, taking off work because he loved watching me dance.
“You know what?” Dad started, I could hear him pacing downstairs on the tile floors, “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you before.”
Folding my legs closer to my chest, I rested my chin on my knees and hoped all of this would end soon. Parents fought, right? It didn’t mean they didn’t love each other anymore. It didn’t mean they’d instantly get divorced. They would kiss and make-up like with Buttercup and Westley and then everything would be just fine.
“I loved you, Robert. You should have told me before we even got married,” I could hear the pain and sadness in Mom’s voice, but I didn’t dare look to see. I never wanted my parents to yell at me like that. And they would if they knew I was up so late and eavesdropping on them.
“Loved?” Daddy choked on the word, like it physically hurt him to say it.
“Robert,” it was barely a whisper, but I still heard her.
“Would you have stayed with me?”
The silence after Daddy’s question lasted too long. I could feel the weight of it in my chest, making tears fall from the corners of my eyes before I could even understand why.
Why won’t she answer?
Of course, she would have married him, right? They loved each other more than anything. Daddy always said she was the love of his life. You only get one of those, right?
I squeezed my eyes shut so I wouldn’t answer his question in her place.
“I don’t know.”
I gasped, my hands squeezing so hard, I could feel my nails breaking the skin of my palms.
“You don’t know?” he asked, his voice deathly quiet.
“No, Robert. I don’t know. I mean, as it is, I’ve only known for a year.”
“Well, you didn’t waste time, did you?” Now Daddy’s voice was angry again.
“That’s not fair,” she started, her words trembling as she spoke, “you dropped a bomb on me and expected me to what? Just go on like everything was perfect?” with every word, Mom’s voice got louder and louder. “Did you think you could charm your way out this mess?” Then she outright screamed, “It’s not just about you, Robert! And I can’t handle it!”
“So, that’s it? You’re just going to give up on us? On seventeen years? Just like that?” My daddy’s voice was hoarse, like that time he’d been sick with a cough that wouldn’t stop. Except he wasn’t sick, he was sad.
“I don’t know,” she repeated, almost in a whisper.
“What about Jaidyn? Have you thought about her?”
I held my breath waiting for Mom to answer, afraid that with a single breath our family would collapse like a Jenga puzzle.
“Of course, I have. Everything is about Jaidyn, she’s my world.”
I let out a long, single breath. Maybe it would be okay. If Mom still loved me then maybe it would all be fine.
“But not as much as…what’s his fucking name, again?”
My entire world broke into a million pieces, shards falling back onto me and leaving me bleeding in its destruction.
“Robert, don’t. Don’t do that,” I heard the door to the closet open then close.
“Do what, Caroline? Question the last seventeen years of our marriage? Question your devotion to your own daughter? Did you think about that while you were fucking him?”
Putting my hands over my ears, I shook my head in denial. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t happen to us. What about Casablanca? What about happily ever after’s? We were a family, and family was more important than anything else.
“You lied to me, for years. I can’t do this anymore. I tried, but I’m not strong like you, Robert.” I could hear her putting her shoes on. She always put on her right then her left.
Where is she going?
“You’re going to break her heart, Caroline,” he said, this time his voice had an edge I’d never heard before. He wasn’t just sad, he was also furious, “What am I supposed to tell her?”
“The truth. What you should have done years ago.”
What was Mom talking about? What was the truth? Did Daddy lie to me?
“She’s too young to know, Caroline. This isn’t something you say between an entrée and dessert.”
“I’ll give you until tomorrow to say goodbye to her, then we’ll be leaving for London.”
What?
No.
“If you think you can just take her away from me, Caroline, you really don’t know me at all.” I jumped when I heard a crash. Quickly rising to my feet, I looked over the railing to see that Daddy had thrown something at the wall, a glass maybe?
“Tomorrow, Robert. I’ll be here with Landry.”
Who is Landry?
“Caroline, please. Don’t do this,” Daddy cried out, grabbing Mommy by her wrist as she opened the front door of the house.
“Let me go, Robert,” she said softly, her free hand on his cheek like she was about to kiss him, “It’s over.”
The living area was filled with the sound of screaming. A screech so high it pierced my ears. It wasn’t until both Mom and Dad, looks of horror written on their faces, were looking up from where they stood downstairs, that I realized the sound was coming from me.
When I stopped, the silence was deafening. All three of us were captured in the web of our disintegrating family unit. Straightening my spine and pulling my shoulders back, I jutted out my chin and gave them my own verdict.
“I’m not leaving Daddy.”
Running downstairs, my feet bare on the plush carpeting, I headed straight for my dad and hugged him around the waist as tightly as I could.
“It’s okay, Dad, I won’t leave you,” I reassured him, “I promise, I’ll never leave you.”
Daddy hugged me close to him and I could feel him trembling with tears.
“Jaidyn, sweetheart,” Mommy said, coming closer and resting her delicate hand on my head.
Turning my anger on her, I looked her straight in the eyes and repeated, “I’m not leaving Daddy. Ever.”
With one last look at him, Mom took her suitcase and walked out the door.
Chapter 1
Marlon
“Good afternoon, Mr. Brooks,” my receptionist piped up just as I stepped out of the elevator, admiring the sunny view of downtown Los Angeles through the wall to wall windows of our offices. We had some prime real estate in one of the most expensive cities in the world and, at twenty-eight, I was damn proud to call myself the founder and CEO of the Dream List Foundation.
With my foster brothers, Luca and Ethan, we started this non-profit to pay it forward. The three of us came from the forgotten neighborhoods of California where tragedy was just another Tuesday morning. Where being homeless was too common to get anyone choked up. Where a lanky kid had the choice between living with his criminal parents or on the streets sleeping in a cardboard tent.
“Afternoon, Mark. Has Mrs. Summers come by yet for her itinerary?” I asked, walking up to the desk, a file in my hand with Martha Summers’ personal information.
“No, sir. She did call to say she was running a little late.”
>
“Okay, great, let me know when she gets here, please, I’d like to sit in on the meeting,” I requested, tapping the cherry wood twice before taking a step back.
“Yes, sir,” Mark answered, before answering the phone and quickly redirecting the caller.
On the way back to my office, Luca’s open door caught my attention while Ethan was clearly not back from lunch.
“Hey, man, what’s up?” I popped my head in my partner’s office with a quick tap on the opaque window, “Did you run Mrs. Summer’s numbers? I’m worried she might need some additional help once she’s overseas.”
“Yeah, I’m finishing them up right now,” he said not even bothering to lift his head from the spreadsheet on his laptop, “I was able to give her a cushion in her budget, just in case she has medical issues to worry about over there.”
“Good, her grand-daughter has power of attorney,” I reminded him, “make sure she’s on the docs, yeah?”
At this, Luca did raise his head with a look on his face that told me this wasn’t his first rodeo and to kindly shut the fuck up.
Walking back out with my hands up in mock surrender I called out, “Right, right, got it.”
The three of us were lucky. Fate had brought us together when we were all placed in the same foster home with Millie Barnes running the show. The tiny, black haired, shrew-eyed, woman made sure we didn’t fuck up our lives completely. This foundation was our way to thank her. Like any other social service, the rich financed the poor, and every donation was a piece of magic for those whose lives were bound to a ticking clock. We made sure their dreams could come true, their last wishes, realities.
This was our dream, one we worked hard bringing to fruition and it had already come true, now we just wanted to bring that satisfaction to others.
Behind me, the elevator doors pinged, announcing Mrs. Summers’ arrival. Or so I thought. Turning on my heel to greet my favorite client, I was momentarily held hostage by the sight before me.
Long, bare legs for miles beneath the silky wrap of her skirt, a lithe body that screamed both sexual and sensual with every step she took in what looked to be four-inch heels, and golden ringlets cascading over the soft-looking material of her sweater, this woman was trouble incarnate.