Beautiful Dark (Beautiful Rivers Book 3)

by J. L. White

  “We will. I promise.”

  “We can do it this summer.”

  She gives me a strange look, then smiles and says, “Of course.”

  Corrine

  When the MRI is finally over, I’m strangely calm. I walk down the broad hall painted in beiges and pastel pinks, and the waiting area up ahead slowly comes into view. Mason is sitting on a chair, an open magazine on his lap. He’s not looking at it, though. He’s looking through the windows but there’s nothing out there but the parking lot. His right leg is bouncing slightly, and his face has that look of worry people get when they don’t realize they’re sitting there looking worried.

  The sight of him like that stops me short, and I back up a few steps so he won’t see me and lean back against the wall. Images flash through my mind of times I’ve seen people around me with that look, and worse. He’s worried now? This is nothing.

  But it’s bad enough seeing my family go through that. I won’t let him do it, too.

  I take a resolute breath, then continue on down the hall.

  Now that the test is over, I’m hoping for time before I get the results. Last time was so quick. I don’t want that this time. But when we get home, I decide to make the most of this afternoon, just in case it’s the last good afternoon we have.

  I want to ask him to make love to me, but I don’t want to say the word love and scare him. I’ve accepted the fact that I’ve fallen in love with him. I didn’t plan our moments to turn into something this huge, but I’m okay with it. Grateful, even. It’s a miracle I get to experience anything like this, even though that’s the thing that’s making me crazy. I figured out why this one’s been so hard on me. I have so much more to lose now.

  But it’s still okay, because it’s just me. Mason hasn’t said he loves me, so he must not. It’s better that way. It’s so much better for him that way, that I can’t even feel sad that he’s not in love with me the way I am with him. It’ll make things easier for him. That’s all I care about.

  So since I don’t want to ask for it with my words, I ask for it with my touch, and my kiss, and the way I let my body melt against his. He gives me what I need, and afterward we stay in bed for a long time.

  These tests really do make me tired, and we sleep some. But even after we wake up, I’m not in a hurry to leave our little nest, or his arms, which feel safe to me again. I’ve decided to let them, and not think about whether or not that safety is a false promise.

  That’s where I am when I get the call. The results come back quickly, once again. When my doctor tells me everything is clean, I start to shake all over.

  I don’t have a stitch on. I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, holding the phone to my ear, with Mason’s hand gently rubbing my bare back, and I’m just shaking and shaking.

  I don’t know how many times I say thank you before we say goodbye, but by the time I hang up, Mason has pulled himself up and curled his body next to me from behind. I look at him. I’m still trembling all over. His eyes dart to the phone, quivering in the hand resting on my leg, then back to me.

  He looks scared and hopeful and confused. He heard me say thank you, over and over again like it was good news, yet sees me shaking like I’ve just had a conversation with Death himself.

  He’s hopeful, but afraid. He’s afraid without even knowing how bad things can get in the darkest hours. I’m so grateful this is the worst he’s going to have to go through.

  I can only say one word, “Negative,” before breaking down completely.

  He smiles broadly at my news, and as my tears start to flow, he holds me and laughs gently and kisses my cheek again and again. And I just let it all go.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” he says kissing my cheek again, and stroking my hair. “You’re okay.”

  I let him hold me and comfort me. Later, when we’re celebrating over a double order of cauliflower crack, he remarks that he had no idea these tests were so hard on me. They usually aren’t, of course, but I don’t tell him that. It’s better for him that he doesn’t know.

  Chapter 28

  Corrine

  Today is the day I’ve been looking forward to for six years. It’s a gorgeous Central California day, and the quad in front of Old Main has been transformed. There’s a raised stage, draped with purple bunting, where the President of the College, all the Deans, and some honored guests sit in their long robes.

  To one side is a set of portable risers where all the professors are sitting. On the other side, is the orchestra and choir. Hartman boasts a nationally-recognized conservatory, so the music we’ll hear today will be stellar. In front of the stage are row after row of chairs, stretching almost all the way to the end of the quad, with an aisle down the middle. The first several of these are filled with those of us who are graduating, and all of our guests are in rows behind that. Somewhere back there are my parents and stepparents, my grandparents, my cousins, Mason, and, shockingly, Mason’s mother. I could not have asked for a more perfect graduation gift.

  We’re all in alphabetical order, but my friend, Hailey, is in the row in front of me, and two over. As the program advances through remarks, speakers, and musical numbers, we keep grinning at one another. We got together last night with some other friends and partied for the last time. Tomorrow she flies to Iowa, where she’ll be getting her master’s degree in finance. I’ll miss her, but I’ve said goodbye to so many people over the years, I’ve gotten pretty good at it, and this time I’m the one graduating.

  Finally we get to the part we’ve all been waiting for. One of the Deans calls out the names, and Dean Jennings hands us the padded diploma folder as we walk across the stage, one at a time. He shakes each person’s hand, but he’s been known on rare occasions to offer certain students a different sort of farewell. It turns out, I’m one of them, and when he gives me a hug and tells me he’s proud of me, I grin back at him like an idiot.

  “I did it!” I say, lifting my shoulders and raising my eyebrows, and he laughs.

  “Yes, you did. I can’t wait to see what you do next.”

  Everyone’s been asking for months what I’m going to do after graduation. I’ve been so focused on just graduating, whether I was going to need to go back into treatment or not, that it was fine to just sort of put everybody off. But now that graduation is finally over, I feel a little untethered. I keep thinking, Now what?

  But life is sort of going along. I finally have a permanent, full-time job at the resort, working the concierge desk. In spite of being related to the owners, I’m still low man on the totem pole, so I work odd hours. I tend to work evenings, so it interferes with Mason time, but at least I get most weekends off.

  Mason and I spend as much time together as we can. We see my cousins plenty too. On the weekends, we often spend time at the resort taking advantage of all it has to offer. We’ve practically made a routine of Sunday afternoon brunch at the resort’s poolside restaurant, the Sandbar, followed by a few hours floating the lazy river. We freaking loooove that lazy river, man.

  Lizzy has told me more than once I can take my time figuring out where I want to live, but I feel like I need to get out of that old house of hers so she can finally sell it. She’s hung on to that thing for a year-and-a-half now, thanks to various indecisive family members. That’s plenty long enough.

  I don’t really know where to go, though, and I keep putting off looking for an apartment. My cousin’s keep talking like they assume I’m going to buy a place, instead of rent like I’ve been thinking. I guess because they know how much money I inherited and figure I have plenty. But aside from a house, honestly, being a waste of my resources, it would only be another complication later, so when the solution to my housing problem comes in an unexpected manner, I jump on it.

  On the first of July, I get an email from the trust’s lawyer, George Hollister, with an update on the apartments I inherited, which is somewhat routine. However, I notice someone’s put in their thirty-day notice and there’s going to be a vacancy at
the end of the month. I call his office, and set an appointment to see him.

  A few days later I meet with him shortly before my shift. Afterward, since it’s not far, I’ll stop by and see Mason on my way to work. I love stopping in there. Everyone’s really nice, and it’s fun to see what he is working on. He’ll talk my ear off about it, telling me all about stuff I honestly don’t understand, but it’s so fun to see him get excited like that. I may even be there in time to join him for his lunch walk.

  When I sit in the chair across from George’s desk, he greets me warmly as he always does. He’s an old friend of the family, and knew my Uncle Grant back when they were my age. After a bit of chit chat, and him congratulating me on my recent graduation, he says, “What can I help you with today?”

  I meet with him once every few months to go over things related to my inheritance, which is still under the umbrella of the trust since I’m underage, and I’m several weeks early for our regular meeting.

  “I wanted to talk to you about the apartments.”

  “All right.”

  “You said there’s going to be a vacancy there?”

  This isn’t the first time that apartment has had a vacancy since I inherited it. It’s happened once or twice in the last year-and-a-half, but I never really paid attention to them before. “Yes,” he says, “But you don’t need to worry. The management company will find new renters.”

  “Right, I understand. But I was wondering if I might be able to live there.”

  “You want to live there?”

  I nod.

  “Why?”

  “Well, now that I graduated, I need a full-time place here in Swan Pointe. I can’t keep staying at Lizzy’s old house.”

  “Well, that’s true. But wouldn’t you rather have a house? You know, I wouldn’t have any problem approving funds for a reasonable purchase. I think that’d be completely appropriate. I mean, you’re not wanting a yacht like your cousin, are you?” he says with a wink.

  I laugh. “No, I’m staying here. I’m working full-time at the resort now. I get to be a concierge.”

  He nods.

  “And I have a boyfriend.”

  “Very good. Will you stay at the resort while you’re doing your online classes?” He knows about this because the last time we met he asked me what I plan to do after graduation, like everyone else on the planet, so I gave him the same answer I give Mason and everyone else. “Yes, I still need to get signed up.”

  “Well, don’t worry about funds. You have plenty. You haven’t spent hardly anything. You could probably afford a nice single-family home something in the range of—”

  I cut him off. “No. No, thank you. The apartment will be fine.” They’re nice apartments, most of them three bedrooms, and well kept. My Uncle Grant didn’t invest in slums. I’d be perfectly comfortable there.

  George is giving me a searching look. This guy’s sharp as a tack, too, so the last thing I need is for him to go probing. “Why do you want to live in an apartment?”

  I shuffle a bit in my seat, then lift my chin and look right back at him. “Does the trust require that they all be rented out so they’re preserved as an investment? Because if so, I can find an apartment elsewhere. That’s not a problem.”

  “No,” he says, giving me a look that makes me suspect he knows I just avoided answering his question. “It’s yours, and if you want to live there, that’s fine. I’m just not sure I understand your reasoning.”

  I shrug. “I just think that will work better for me. For now.”

  He looks at me for a moment, then raises his hands slightly, as if to say whatever makes you happy. “I can let the property management company know. Is it all right if they get in touch with you directly to arrange a move-in date, and keys, and so forth?”

  “Yes, that’d be great. Thank you.”

  I’m relieved that I finally have a plan in place that will get me out of Lizzy’s hair, but I’m feeling inclined to keep it to myself for now. When I stop by to see Mason, I don’t mention it. He’ll want to know my reasons, and probably won’t let go of it as quickly as George Hollister did. I’m not telling my cousins either, since I know they’ll want to argue with me as well.

  But I know what I’m doing. They can think what they want, but it’s for everyone’s sake that I’m keeping things low risk.

  It has crossed my mind that the doctors could be right this time. It has been two and a half years. But I’ve had the rug pulled out from underneath me before, and I guess I don’t believe it. Not really.

  Chapter 29

  Mason

  It’s late afternoon on the Fourth of July, and we’re making the most of Corrine’s evening off. Since the resort has a big celebration tonight, including a firework show she’s promised will be spectacular, we decided to come early and play. It’s no surprise we ended up in the lazy river.

  “This is almost better than lying on the beach,” she says, languidly, her arms crossed over the edge of the big black inner tube, and her chin resting on her hands. Her body is through the center of the tube, just as my body is through the center of mine, and I can see her legs and the orange bottom of her bikini through the wavy water.

  “Nothing’s better than lying on the beach,” I say, smiling and resting my chin on my arms too. Our fingers are loosely laced together in the small space between us.

  “Nothing,” she says with a mischievous smile. “What about working on cars?”

  “Well, that,” I say, grinning.

  “What about working on me?” she says lowly.

  I laugh and curl my fingers tighter around hers, bringing her inner tube a little closer. We lift our chins together and give each other a kiss.

  “You shouldn’t talk like that with so many youngsters around,” I say, referring to the kids and teens floating around the river with us. There’s the occasional parent in the mix, but the kids pretty much ignore all the adults, and Corrine and I are content to ignore them too. Every now and then someone gets rowdy and gets our attention, but for the most part, we’re the only two people out here.

  “You mean I shouldn’t talk about how I like to go down on your—”

  I kiss her quickly as a means of shutting her up and we both laugh.

  “You’re so naughty,” I say, bopping her nose to get even.

  She scowls good-naturedly and I laugh again.

  I love this girl so much. I can’t imagine anyone else ever taking her place.

  I’ve considered the issue of her living situation over there at Lizzy’s, and mine in my parents’ old house, and realized the solution to both problems is the same. We each need a different place, a new place, but we need to be in that place together. We’ve gone long enough keeping up pretenses. We’re together so much, and sleep with one another damn near every night anyway, we may as well make it official.

  But it’s more than the convenience of logistics. I want to. I know it’s a big step, but it doesn’t feel like that with her. It feels natural. Right. And I’m going to talk to her about it soon.

  Looking at her now, her blue eyes glittering with the reflections on the water, I know that I want her to be in my arms every night and every morning, in a bed that we own together.

  I bring her in for another kiss, overwhelmed with love for her, and encouraged by the love for me I see in her eyes.

  Corrine

  When the sun sets and we start losing our light, we climb out of the water and dry off a bit. I have my big beach bag here with our stuff, and we throw on some clothes. A dry t-shirt for him and a thigh-length cover-up for me, then we sit at the poolside bar so we can continue to dry out and chat as dusk turns to evening.

  Once we’re ready for dinner, we head to Lizzy’s office where she’s let us stash the rest of our stuff. Though we’re keeping things casual tonight, we still had to come prepared if we wanted to be able to hang here all day without having to go back and forth to the house to get ready.

  Lizzy’s heard about our sexual
escapades and made me swear we wouldn’t do it in her office, so all we do is change into clothes suitable for a casual dinner and I fix my hair and put on some gloss. He puts his phone, keys, and wallet in his jeans pocket like normal, but I opt to just take my phone and come back for my bag before we head home.

  After dinner, we still have a bit of time to kill, so as people start to gather on the rear of the grounds, closer to the golf course, we go for a stroll around the building.

  It’s dark, and as we circle around the west wing, the grounds are nearly void of people. The second-floor grand balcony is up ahead, and we seem to remember our first night together at the same time, because we both look at one another with not-so-guilty expressions and laugh.

  We won’t be having a repeat performance tonight, though, since there’s a couple of people over by the tables. Instead we wander past and go toward the edge of the bluff where there’s a low, brick wall to keep people from going too far.

  We stop and look out at the ocean, arm in arm. The moon is out, so it’s all glittery on top of the deep dark of the water.

  “This has been the perfect day,” Mason says.

  I smile up at him as he brings me into his arms. “It has. And it’s not even over yet.” He’s gonna love those fireworks.

  “Hey,” he says, rubbing my jaw lightly with his fingertips. “I have an idea.”

  “Okay,” I say, giving him a gentle squeeze.

  “How about we scratch something else off your bucket list?”

  I grin. “I love scratching things off my bucket list.”

  He laughs softly. “I know you do. You have this weekend off? Right?”

  I nod. “How about we finally do that road trip we’ve been talking about?”

  “Oh my god, yes!” I say, leaning into him and he laughs again.

  “I checked the forecast, and it looks good. We could go up the coast as far as we can, find a place to stay, then drive back the next day.”