Always In: The Shore Series Book 2

by M. R. Joseph

  When the priest begins and asks the godparents to step up next to what looks like a mini dunk tank, I stand beside Harlow and I can smell her. Her scent fills me, not the smell of this old church or the smell of the baby, but her. I look up at the large cross that hangs above the altar and I close my eyes for a brief minute and silently pray.

  Please God, let her choose me.

  Standing this close to her is torture. I can hear her breathe, even over the priest's voice. I look at her from the corner of my eye, watching her look at her sister and the family she has created, and I see the tears come. She swipes at them and at her nose, and because I know her soul like I know my own, I understand why she's crying.

  This sadness comes from what she knows she won't have, but I want to grab her and tell her, yes, we can. I'll take that step with her. I'll give her that family she wants. I'll give her myself and we can stand at this altar and exchange our vows. Then we can stand here again and hold a baby in our arms and accept that a child made in someone else's body can be ours. It would be a piece of us, because we would have given it life genetically, and will then raise it together. We could be a family. Hope is not lost.

  All this rests on her, though.

  When the holy water is sprinkled on Avery's head she doesn't even flinch. She stays asleep.

  After the ceremony, we snap pictures, me beside Harlow and Craw while Greta holds the Avery. I have to fake a smile and I know Harlow does too. Even though this is a happy occasion, neither of us are happy. Before I have a chance to react, Greta turns to me and places a sleeping Avery in my arms. She fits so snuggly, so perfectly. This creature that was made from love has the world at her feet and a future so bright that it makes me believe in things that I never thought were possible. She opens her tiny eyes and looks at me and smiles. It captures my heart, robs it blindly, and takes my breath. I bring her tiny face to mine and take in her soft, delicate scent, and I rub my stubbly cheek against hers. She squirms and let's out a laugh that in turn makes everyone else laugh. I look up and the only one not laughing is Harlow. She's crying and then she walks down the aisle and out of the church. Craw goes to chase after her but I hand the baby back to Greta and tell him, "I'll go." He nods and I take off outside into the cold December air. I don't see her anywhere. I run to the curb and look to my left then to my right. Nothing, nowhere, until I hear a small sob behind me. I turn around and she is standing with her back against a wall of an alcove on the side of the church. I walk back up the steps slowly. Every step I take is one step closer to her and with each touch of my foot on the ground I feel like I should push her away. This patience and distance thing is what I want. I reach her and she swipes at her face. The freckles across her cheeks are damp still and I want to reach out to wipe the rest of the wetness away, but I’m not going to.

  "Just leave me alone, Cruz. I want to be by myself. P-please, leave me alone."

  I lean my back against the wall next to her and she turns her body away from me a bit so I can't see her face.

  "I didn't call you back because I didn't want to talk to you. I am trying to give you your space and talking wouldn't help. I need it, too. I need the space. This thing with us, it's just too damn hard."

  She turns back around in my direction with an angry look in her eyes.

  "You need space? It's too hard for you? You? You aren't the one who had to make decisions."

  I kick away from the wall and take her arm and pull her toward my car. She struggles, but my grasp is too much for her to wiggle out of. I open the passenger door and throw her in and I come around and climb in and lock the door.

  "Get me the hell out of here, Cruz." She jiggles the door handle trying to open it and I ignore her pleas.

  I yell over her yelling, "You're not going anywhere until you calm the fuck down and we talk." She doesn't listen. She's even more determined to get out of the car and in a minute she'll break my fucking door.

  "Harlow, knock it off. I’m a cop. I can have you restrained in ten seconds flat, so chill the fuck out."

  She finally stops and crosses her arms in front of her and I reach over her and pull the seat belt and lock it in. Harlow pouts and looks like a five-year-old sitting there in the front seat of my car. I text Craw.

  I kidnapped your sister. You won't be seeing her for the rest of the day.

  He texts back a few moments later.

  everyone understands. they know she's in good hands :)

  That takes care of that.

  We drive in silence. Where we drive, it's not around the corner either, so the comfort level is a zero. Her huffs and puffs and her sighs don't mean a thing to me. She can steam up the car windows with all the hot air she's expelling and I'd just say fuck it and put on the defrosters.

  She falls asleep half way through our ride. The whole time I think about what I’m going to say to her. How else am I supposed to show her how much I love her? How many more fucking times? How many more tricks can I pull out of my hat?

  Why? Why do this? If she isn’t ready to make a decision, why am I putting myself through this?

  ***

  I pull into Barnacle Lane and under the deck of Porter's parents’ house and I nudge her awake.

  "Rise and shine. We have arrived." She stretches and rubs her eyes with the palms of her hands. Then she sees where we are.

  If I had a camera and could take a picture of her face, I'd win a contest for best “I just shit in my pants” picture.

  "What the hell? Why are we in Sandy Cove? I’m calling my brother to come and get me."

  "Already took care of that. He won't be coming." I shrug which aggravates her even more.

  "Then I'll call Porter or Max or Willow. Yeah, Willow. She hates you and she's dying to make soup out of your balls anyway. This is the perfect excuse."

  I sit here like there's not a care in the world. She could call the president and he wouldn't come get her. I refuse to give up.

  "Too bad Porter is in Boston finishing up his last semester. Max is in New York playing a gig, and if I told Willow where I took you, she'd pat me on the head and tell me I’m a good boy."

  "Bullshit."

  "Bullshit?" I question her back.

  "I want to go home. I don't want to be here with you. You embarrassed me at my place of work. I need to get away from you."

  I laugh. "I embarrassed you? You embarrassed yourself, Harlow. You had every opportunity to tell that guy about me and you chose not to. I had nothing to do with the way he found out about me."

  "It's none of your business when I was going to tell him. Just know I was. I had every intention. I just didn't get the chance."

  I bang on my chest, over where my heart is, letting her know exactly where I hurt day after day.

  "It is my fucking business because this is my life, too. When are you going to stop and realize that this is not only happening to you, Harlow! Fuck! It is more my business now that he knows because you can't make a decision. You tell me you love me and I’m just supposed to be okay with you falling for someone else? It's not okay to tell me you love me, it's not okay to tell this guy the same thing. And don't blame it on your broken brain. You've used up your coma card already, sweetheart."

  For as tiny as Harlow Hannum is, the girl packs a powerful punch. She hits my jaw and I feel the sting as her tiny hand collides with my jaw. My head flies back and hits the headrest of my seat.

  She grabs the keys from the ignition as I’m trying to shake the cobwebs out from her almost TKO. She undoes the unlock button and climbs out of the car and makes her way to Willow's mom's house. I watch her climb the stairs, battling the bitter elements of the December winds. Her dress blows around her and her hair spirals in the air.

  I wait till she retrieves the hidden key to the house and goes inside. I get out of the car and if she wants to be a brat and face this head on, then so be it. Two can play at this game. I go to Porter's parents and retrieve their hidden key. I step inside the very cold house and go to the heat. I turn
it up and wait till it kicks on. I find a blanket and wrap myself up in it and ice the spot on my jaw where she punched me. It's so quiet. What the hell is she doing over there?

  I’ve waited an hour. I looked through about ten magazines and drank one left over beer in the fridge. I have heard nothing from next door and I can't stand it. I go to the window of the kitchen and look out at the dock.

  There she stands wrapped in a thick, plaid blanket. She put it around her head but I can still tell it's her. Of course I can. She's my baby.

  I grab the blanket on the sofa next to me and make my way out to the dock where she is.

  I reach her and stand at her side. She knows I’m here. We stand in silence for a while.

  "Can I ask you a question?" She nods as she looks out onto the chilly waters of the bay.

  "Why were you crying in church today when you saw me holding Avery?"

  "’Cause I know that will never be me. It may be you. You may be in that position, but I'll never be."

  "What do you mean I might be?"

  Harlow turns my way with her tear-soaked face. Dusk’s pink skies reflect in her blue orbs. She is truly beautiful.

  "Today in church while you were holding Avery, I looked at you in a way I never have before. I saw pure joy on your face. I didn't see the guy who used to take a different girl home here every night in the summer. I didn't see the guy who made a mockery of the way I used big words as a way to make myself feel better. I didn't see the tough cop who was so used to getting his own way." She turns back to the water, wrapping the blanket more securely around herself.

  "I saw a man who knows what he wants. I saw it all over your face. You want a family. You want a family like yours. You want what they had. I remember you telling me about your parents. I don't remember meeting them, but I do remember you talking about how wonderful they are."

  There are moments in life when the lies have to end and the truth comes out. Sometimes in an unexpected way. This is one of those times.

  "I lied."

  Harlow looks my way.

  "What do you mean you lied?"

  "I was raised by a crack-head mother. Well, she really didn't raise me. I raised myself. Antonio and me. We raised ourselves. Her name is Rae. I haven't seen or heard from her since Matteo was born. She showed up at the hospital the day he was born. We still don't know how she found out Bella was in labor. She caused a scene and we had her thrown out. This all happened after you left. That's why you never knew about her. Our father left when I was little. I don't remember him. He just up and walked out and never came back. I lived in filth. I wasn't raised in a good neighborhood. I was raised in a place where whores roamed the streets—my mother being one of them. There was a crack house at the end of my block. I didn't have Christmases or birthday parties. Our mother didn't cook meals. We fended for ourselves. We fought off my mom's child molesting boyfriends. When we got older, Bella's parents took care of us. They fed us, made sure we had clean clothes. I went into the Marines the day I turned eighteen. Tony lived with Bella's family."

  Silence comes in many shapes and sizes. Bordering on uncomfortable is not knowing what the other person is thinking.

  "Harlow, say something."

  "Why? Why lie to me?"

  "Because I was scared and embarrassed. You came from this great family full of genuine love and affection, and I came from the complete opposite. My family never came up until I started to have feelings for you. I asked Porter and Max to keep it a secret. I was ashamed and thought if you knew where I came from, you'd think I'd end up just like them, and I couldn't risk that. I couldn't risk you turning away from me after I fell in love with you. I didn’t get the chance to tell you the truth so I lied.”

  She starts to walk up the dock, back to the house, and my answer is given to me. She would have walked away.

  I follow her up the steps and onto the back deck leading to Willow's parents’ house.

  "Har, wait." I follow her into the house even after she tries to slam the door in my face. She throws off the blanket and paces the floor.

  "You lied to me. All this time, you lied. You lied about your parents being away when Bella had the baby. And you, you stand there and just assume I would've left you if I knew the truth. You didn't really know me then, did you, Cruz? You thought you did. I would have fallen in love with you if you came back from Iraq missing all your limbs. I would have loved you if you were blind, deaf, or dumb. It wouldn't have mattered to me how you were brought up. What would have mattered was the kind of person you had become."

  She stops pacing and looks at me. Her eyes are a mixture of anger and disbelief.

  "You give me no credit for the kind of person I am, Cruz. You knew I wasn't the type who cared about money or status. You had my friends lie to me. You could have told me anything. Christ, I told you about the abortion that almost ended my life. I trusted you and you lied. You're a fucking liar. I never lied to you and you didn't have to lie to me."

  I take a step toward her and try and put my hand on her shoulder but she steps back putting a lot of distance between us. She puts her hand up as I try again.

  "Don't. Just...just go. Leave. I'll call someone to come pick me up tomorrow." She spins on her heels and pulls at her hair and cries out, "Fuck! I left my purse in church."

  She goes to the house phone, picks it up and dials.

  "Harlow, wait. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I lied to you."

  She starts to talk to Craw on the phone.

  "Hey, it's me. Yes, I’m fine. He's...yes, he's here. No...Craw can you just listen to me, please? Stop asking questions. Just...come and get me in the morning. I’m in Sandy Cove. Craw, I asked you not to ask me any questions, just please do it." She turns her back away from me and I just want to reach out and hold her, but I know better.

  “No, Craw. Don't tell him. I'll talk to him when I get home. Just be here early. I don't want to be here any longer than I have to." She hangs up and goes to the door and opens it. She steps aside and keeps her focus on the floor below her.

  "Get out."

  I tell her no.

  "I said, get out."

  "No, I have more to say."

  "Well I don't want to hear anything you have to say."

  "Tough shit, Harlow."

  I step toward the door and slam it shut. Her face is close to mine and she keeps stepping away the closer I get.

  "I’m going to answer your question from earlier. Do I want a family? Yeah, sure. Why not? Never wanted one before, but then I met you and the thought of it crossed my mind, especially when you were in that coma. I swore if you woke up I'd carry you off and marry you and never let you out of my fucking sight again. I'd go to China, or Africa, or anywhere in the world to adopt a baby if that's what you wanted. And if all you wanted was us—for the rest of your life—I was fine with that because you were all I needed to survive. We could have been the family. You and I."

  "You never told me any of that." Her voice is meek and mild, not angry like a few moments ago.

  "You never gave me the chance, Harlow. My God, I'd do anything for you. Why don't you believe me?"

  She moves away from me and sits on the sofa, bringing her knees up to her chest, hugging them tight.

  "I would have believed you, but now that I know you’re a liar, I’m not so sure. Besides, no one in their right mind would ever give me a baby with my medical history."

  "You don't know that."

  "As a matter of fact I do. I’ve done the research. They don't give babies away to anyone. Especially ones who have had brain damage. My legs can't move like they used to. Sometimes if I’m driving in my car, I forget where I’m going. In school, I give the wrong grades to the wrong kids because I can't concentrate like I used to. So you see? No one would give me a child. Instant family is my option."

  Now it dawns on me. Instant family. God, why didn't I figure this out before?

  I place myself in her line of sight and crouch down. I gently grasp her chin w
ith my fingers and make her look at me. The realization of why she can't make a decision is so crystal clear that I’m shocked it didn't click sooner.

  "That's the reason you can't decide. You want me, but you want him too because he has the instant family."

  Her eyes go wide. "Wh-what are you talking about?" Her eyes dart away from mine but I place my finger on her chin and force her to look at me.

  "I can't give you what you want, but he can. I know about him. His dead wife, the little kid." She doesn't ask how I know. Even if Willow didn't tell me, she knows I have my ways.

  "He makes you feel special because he has what you want. Isn't that the truth? You wanted to become a mother and you’re falling in love with him because that's what he can give you." I get up when she doesn't answer. Her silence tells me all my answers.

  I walk to the door. She remains on the sofa so small and fragile, but right now it's my heart that's fragile. I would have given her the world.

  "I lied to you, yes, and I’m sorry for that and I can't take it back. I apologize for just assuming you would leave me if you knew the truth about my life. But for once, Harlow, for once accept some responsibility in this mess because you assumed I wouldn't want you if we had a future that wouldn't include kids. I would have done whatever you wanted. I would have been with you no matter what. Kids or no kids. You were all that mattered. I would have lived my life with just you and me.... I would have lived all my days happy and content. So you really are the one who doesn't know me."

  Her voice shaky, she asks, "Would have? You're speaking in the past tense."

  Am I breaking her because she has broken me? She remembers us, our love, and what we had, but she's not fighting for us, and I’m not sure I have any fight left in me. Not enough for both of us anyway. I can’t compete with instant family. I just can’t. I’m done.