Maybe Forever (Maybe... Book 3)

by Kim Golden

  I didn't want to leave another voicemail. Instead, I sent a text message that summed up everything going through me.

  "I'm sorry I didn't pay more attention to what you were going through. I promised you I'd always be there. And I broke my promise. I'm sorry."

  CHAPTER NINE: Laney

  All I Want

  The sun was just rising, casting a silvery glow to the colorless sky. The higher it rose, the clouds in the distance warmed to rosy tints of gold. I stopped, let my toes sink into the wet sand and watched the sky come to life. Rebecca was right—coming to the beach every morning and walking along the shoreline, listening to the waves and letting them splash my feet was the best form of medicine for me.

  Over dinner last night, she'd shared her story with me—how she left behind an abusive husband and a marriage gone wrong to save herself and her daughters. "I didn't even know where I was going," she'd said as the citronella candles flickered on the painted porch railing. "I asked Peyton and Lorelei what they wanted most, and they said they wanted to see the ocean. So we ended up here."

  "Did you know anyone here?" The night had gone chilly and we'd both borrowed shawls from my aunt. Still, we shivered a little, but it was so relaxing to sit here talking like old friends, even though we'd only just met.

  Rebecca shook her head. "Nope, no one. Aside from the staff at the motel where we were staying while we tried to find a place to live, your aunt was the first person I met. I was going around trying to find a job, and she said I looked like the sort of person who could use a good break."

  "That sounds like Cecily through and through," I said. A moth fluttered over my head and I fanned it away. "She rescued me from foster care when my dad refused to assume custody of me. My mom had died, and I didn't have anyone. And my aunt found me."

  "When was that?"

  "I was fifteen when my mother found out her breast cancer was terminal...and then three months later she died." I knew my voice sounded strangely detached as I told Rebecca my story. Sometimes it felt like it had happened to someone else. But the memory of it still lived within me. I never realized how much I needed my mother until she was gone, when suddenly I was a ward of the state and my father would not take me in. "I don't want my girls to ever go through that...the uncertainty, not knowing they are loved..."

  "I think they know," Rebecca assured me. "Peyton said Liv kept talking about her papa...she couldn't understand everything, but...she said Liv sang a song about how she loved her daddy."

  I nodded and laughed. "Yes, that sounds like Liv. She adores her father."

  "But he's not here...?"

  "No...I'm...taking a break."

  "Cecily mentioned it." Rebecca hugged her knees. "She said you needed some time to think things through."

  "That's about the size of it."

  "Are you thinking about getting a divorce?"

  "I don't know...I don't know anything. I don't want my marriage to be over...but I don't want it to be the way that it is now."

  "You should meditate... when you walk on the beach, just repeat some affirmations to yourself, to remind you of what's important...of what you want."

  "It's that easy?"

  She nodded. "I do it whenever I feel confused, or stuck. I run, I run in the evening and I let my mind wander and then I think through what I want or I remind myself of what's working in my life. You should try it."

  So now I was doing it. Walking along the beach, letting my mind swirl with all the worries I kept inside. The air smelled like home—that familiar scent of wet sand, salt and the sea. It reminded me of those walks we took together. It didn't matter what time of year—Mads would wake up, anxious to make love...this I missed so much, how gentle it could all start and then the ache, the desire took over...afterwards we'd linger in bed, have a lazy breakfast and then we'd take the train or drive to the sea. Sometimes we were the only ones on the beach...and he'd walk ahead, always looking back and stretching his hand out to me and calling my name, calling out, "Laney...come...I want to show you something..." His strong hands clasping mine... and in winter, when his beard grew in thick and coppery, how I'd rub my cheeks against his and those red-gold hairs would tickle my skin.

  I want...I want to feel whole again...I want the waves to wash away my doubts. I want to be loved. I want him to love me, I want to love him again... I want to love my children... I do love my children.

  Saying this...whispering it to myself as I walked in the sand...how silly I felt at first. But the longer I walked, the more these words felt like they were true. They were true. And in my mind they transformed. I am whole. I love myself. I love my children...I love my husband. I am whole. I am healed.

  It is true. It will be true.

  I returned to my aunt's house feeling unburdened. My aunt and my daughters were still sleeping, and the house seemed as caught in slumber as they were. I checked on the girls. Liv's small body barely made a hump in her bed, though her uncontrollable curls formed a halo on her pillow. Little Freya sighed and murmured as she turned over. I crossed the hall to my room and closed the door behind me. Rebecca was right. I did feel better. And I'd made a decision—at least about whether I would return to work early. I didn't want to lose these months with Freya and Liv. Even if it meant that I would lose my job—I would think of something. I could even freelance—I'd done it before, I could do it again.

  I retrieved my iPad and began typing in my letter of resignation and pressed send before I could change my mind.

  * * *

  "Ah, good! You're still here!"

  I'd just finished wiping down my yoga mat and was rolling it up when my aunt found me. Freya had waddled over to the window and was watching a group of kids play in Namaste's back garden.

  "Yeah, we're still here," I said and slipped my yoga mat into its pouch. "I was going to take Freya to the park, but we can stick around if you need help."

  "I do," Cecily gestured at the group of children outside. "Do you think you could help me with a kids' yoga session?"

  I wasn't sure how much help I could be. I wasn't very good at yoga. Practicing it made me feel better but I lacked the flexibility of Heaven, who led the Baby & Me yoga classes, and I didn't have my aunt's passion for it. I didn't want to say no, though. Especially since she'd been doing everything she could to help me and the girls. Instead of going out in the evenings for walks with her friends or having dinner with Otis, the man I knew she was dating though she pretended otherwise, Cecily was staying close to home, counseling me, consoling me.

  "I could try." I housed the strap of my yoga bag on my shoulder and then scooped up Freya. "What shall we do with this little bundle in the meantime?"

  "She'll be in the playgroup that Rebecca's taking care of." Cecily looked relieved. "Normally Heaven helps me, but she had a dentist's appointment scheduled."

  "It's fine." I followed my aunt as she led the way to the garden. We stopped briefly to drop off Freya with the playgroup. I'd expected Freya to cling—she sometimes didn't take well to strangers, but she was used to Rebecca and, as soon as she saw the other children, she lost interest in me and squirmed to be let down to join them.

  "Are we doing an outdoor session?"

  "It's better for the group we're working with. Being out in the sun, hearing the birds and feeling the wind on their skin—it seems to calm them more than any soothing music ever could." Before she opened the door to the garden, she paused and added, "Some of these kids have been abandoned or abused, some of them just need a little attention. And they get what they need when they come here."

  Outside, a group of preteen and teenage boys and girls waited. There were around ten of them and the older ones tried to look as though this was the last place they wanted to be. I knew that look so well. That had been me when Cecily first brought me to New York. I remembered being scared out of my mind—the city overwhelmed me, it was so much larger than Philadelphia, so many people, too much noise—but I plastered a bland, almost bored expression on my face and
pretended that none of it touched me in any way. Cecily didn't buy it from me, and she certainly didn't buy it from them either.

  She greeted them all by name. Some of them answered with, "Hey, Miss Cecily..." A few mumbled something similar. One or two remained icily silent.

  "Is that all the enthusiasm I get today?" Cecily laughed and shook her head. "Now come on, get your mats and let's start."

  Two of the girls giggled as they selected mats and chose spots, but the other three hung back. While Cecily unrolled her mat, I approached the trio and asked them if they needed any help.

  "Who are you?" The boldest of the three jutted out her chin at me. She was shorter than me and stocky, while her friends were wisps of girls who tried to look tough.

  "I'm Cecily's niece." I pointed to the basket of mats. "Do you need help setting up?"

  The girl ignored me and called out to my aunt, "Miss Cecily, is this really your niece? She don't look like you."

  My aunt planted her hands on her hips and laughed. "Sharee, are you going to give my niece a hard time, or are you going to get a mat?"

  "We never seen her before though, Miss Cecily," Sharee retorted. "Where's Miss Heaven?"

  "At the dentist's. Now come on, we haven't got all day—and my niece Laney is like a daughter to me, so be nice."

  Sharee shrugged her shoulders and finally did as the others, going over to the basket and retrieving a mat. Her friends followed suit. I also rolled out a mat. I wasn't really sure yet what Cecily needed me to do, but I figured standing around wasn't really the point of it.

  Once everyone was seated on their mats, Cecily instructed them to sit cross-legged and place their hands on their knees. Some of the boys awkwardly folded their long legs into the position and glanced around. My aunt had created a safe place for them. The garden was shaded from the street by tall, flowering shrubs and bamboo plants. She'd erected shade sails to keep the worst of the sun off the garden and provide privacy. As my aunt led them through the first breathing exercises, she reminded them to relax, to clear their minds and only focus on the joy inside them. After a while she lifted a small bell and rang it. She nodded at each teenager and asked them to repeat after her: "May I be safe...may I be happy... may I be well."

  Around me, their voices formed one as they repeated the phrases my aunt intoned. She took them through a cycle of three repetitions then led them through sun salutations. I stood and observed, sometimes helping them adjust how they held their arms or legs, careful to ask if they needed help first. Some of them flinched when I spoke to them, no matter how soft a tone I used. One of the boys edged away from me when I tried to help him adjust his arms during the second round of sun salutations.

  "I can do it," he muttered. He wouldn't look my way. "I don't like to be touched..."

  "Okay, no problem," I assured him and then talked him through the position. His shoulders relaxed, but his breathing still sounded tense. I reminded him to focus on breathing slowly and letting his troubles disappear with each breath. After a while he nodded at me and whispered, "Thank you..."

  Through each pose, my aunt spoke calmly to them, describing how to place their hands and feet, reminding them to find their center and stay focused on the here and now. I knew that once the session was over, she'd have a chat circle with them. As we went through the last cycle of yoga stances and chants, I stood back and watched how my aunt connected with her charges. She spoke to them in a soft, reassuring voice as she instructed them now to lie down on their backs, close their eyes and go to a safe place. I joined them, though I continued standing.

  I let my mind wander to my safe place. When I was younger and my parents were arguing, I always dreamed myself away to a path in the forest. I liked the idea of wandering into this strange, green space. The trees towering over me, protecting me. I'd crawl under my bed with my pillow and hum to myself, until all I saw was the winding path, strewn with twigs and pebbles, the silvery white birch and the shadowy pine trees. I should have been frightened, but it was the forest of my dreams and I knew I was always safe.

  I'd forgotten about my safe place. Shelved it away when I moved in with my aunt, bottled it up inside me and let it lie dormant. Now it spiraled again within me, reminding me that it could help me again...if I needed it. And I wouldn't need to run away to find it.

  "Thanks so much for helping me today." Cecily and I were walking home now. I was pushing a napping Freya in the stroller, still a little stunned at remembering my childhood sanctuary. "Sometimes the kids can be a handful when I'm on my own, which is why Heaven usually helps me."

  "They seemed pretty mellow today."

  "We've had good sessions the last week or so," my aunt said as we stopped at the corner and waited for the traffic light to turn green. "It's taken a while to get to this point. All of them have had such fractured lives. A little like you have."

  "Fractured...yeah, that would pretty much sum up most of my life." When I was with Niklas, I'd always kept that aspect of my life hidden. It unnerved him—despite his background as a therapist. He liked it when things were orderly, smooth and calm. With Mads, it was different. When I first told him about my broken background, he'd been more angry for me than scared of what it meant. He'd muttered a few choice Danish profanities as I told him about being taken into foster care when my dad said he didn't want me in his life. He was the first person aside from Eddy and Aunt Cecily who'd reacted with such anger and frustration at my situation. And it cemented it for me—he was the one who would keep my heart safe.

  As we started walking again, I could sense my aunt was trying to approach this from another angle. She kept making her usual "hmmm" sound as she tapped her left hand on her thigh. She always did that when she was thinking.

  "Maybe you need to come to these sessions too," Cecily mused as we crossed the street. "You've been holding so much inside of you for too long."

  "I don't want to sit in a circle with a bunch of kids," I countered.

  "Laney, you need to meditate."

  "No, not with them..."

  "I should have made you do it when you first moved in with me all those years ago. You've needed it for so long."

  "I don't want to talk about my marriage problems with those kids."

  "You don't have to talk about your problems with them. Just meditate with them. You can talk about your problems with me."

  "I already tell you..."

  "I don't think you tell me everything that is bothering you," Cecily said. "Which makes me wonder how much you told Mads."

  "I told him everything." I retorted.

  "No, I don't think you did." By now we were only a few minutes from her house. My aunt's words rang through my mind. She knew me too well. She knew I wasn't always good at expressing my fears or my needs. If anyone understood this, Cecily did. "But sooner or later you're going to have to open up more, stop hiding things inside you. It doesn't help."

  * * *

  "Howcould you quit without telling us?" Johan’s and Marius's faces filled my iPad screen. "You can't just leave us!"

  "Hello to you too." I balanced my iPad on my knees. I was in the garden with Liv and Freya. Lorelei, Rebecca's youngest daughter, had come over earlier, wondering if the girls wanted to play. She and Liv were trying to catch butterflies while Freya played with her DuPlo blocks. All of the girls were in their bathing suits. I'd promised them they could run through the sprinklers once they were tired of chasing butterflies.

  "Does this mean you aren't coming back to Denmark? Please tell me you haven't abandoned us to these crazy Danes!" Johan's voice went up an octave. It always did when he was nervous. It was one of the things Marius and I used to tease him about. Hearing it now made me miss working with my team.

  "What makes you think I'm not in Denmark...?" Which was a stupid question to even ask. Mads had probably called them the moment he realized I was gone, trying to figure out what they might know—when the only thing I'd ever told them was that being at home with two small children was no walk
in the park.

  "Mads told us!" Johan barked at the screen. "He said you left him, said you took the kids—what the hell is going on? I thought you two were my friends who'd never get a divorce—"

  "We're not getting a divorce..." Just thinking about a divorce made my chest tighten. I didn't think I wanted to go that far... Mads and I had issues...but I had to believe that we could find our way back to one another.

  "You don't sound so certain," Marius quipped. He raked his fingers through his dark hair and gave me a stern look. "Tell me this is just a bump in the road."

  "I don't know what it is...I think it's temporary. I just need to get my life on track—and Jens calling and saying I had to prove I was committed to my job—that my job was more important than my children...I just couldn't take it. I can't do that."

  "I don't blame you, Laney," Marius admitted. "And...look, if you're not here, we're not here. We've been thinking about this for awhile."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "We're starting our own agency—and we want you to join us."

  "But you're coming back?" Marius asked. I heard the caution in his voice.

  "I haven't been gone that long." I reminded him. I'd only been here a couple of weeks, though it felt longer. My maternity leave was another matter. I'd started it three weeks before Freya was born. If I still lived here in the US, I would have already been back in the office again.

  Johan looked as though he was about to panic. "But you left Mads—"

  "It's temporary, Johan. I needed a break. That's all." Lorelei and Liv threw down their butterfly nets and joined Freya on the lawn. I asked the girls if I should turn on the sprinklers now but they were much more interested in the inflatable wading pool my aunt had found. She was outside too now—in one of her fabulous fifties-style bathing suits and flip-flops. She'd already inflated the pool and was now filling it with water.