by S. J. Bishop
Hail Mary
A Second Chance Romance
S.J. Bishop
Contents
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Hail Mary
Taking Possession
Drop Kicked (Blitz Prequel)
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Hail Mary
1
Law
“Do you mind if I sit here, Father?” I asked the priest as I entered Saint Catherine’s Church and stopped beside a pew.
Father Armando looked up, surprised. He hadn’t heard me enter. He checked his watch and confirmed that he wasn’t running late; I was early.
“I do not mind at all,” said Father Armando. “I assume you’d like to sit for a while before everyone gets here.”
“If you don’t mind.”
The priest left. I took my seat in the third row, which is where Eric and I used to sit with our mother, back when we were kids and attended Church regularly. Since my mother passed away, I’d attended only the handful of times one of my uncles couldn’t escort my grandmother.
Easing into the pew, I stared at the gilded statues of the Madonna and Child and tried to take some comfort in their silence. To be honest, I’d felt God on the football field more often than I’d ever been able to feel him here – but I hoped there was an afterlife and that Eric was at peace in it.
My brother had died last week when his car had swerved off the road and flipped. He and his fiancé were killed instantly, leaving behind their worldly possessions and their two-year-old daughter Nikki.
Footsteps sounded in the aisle before a heavy hand gripped my shoulder. “Hey, man. How you holding up?”
I glanced up into the unusually stoic and concerned face of Ryan “Mac” Mcloughlin. Mac wasn’t usually in Miami. Since the season had just started, he spent most of his time in Boston, playing for the New England Patriots. But he and I were friends, we’d played college ball together, and since his fiancé had recently opened up a restaurant in Miami, we’d been having dinner together when I got the news.
“Okay,” I said. The shock of the accident had worn off, and while I was still feeling the dregs of the ‘depression’ stage of grief, I’d ceased being angry. “I’m just bracing myself for what comes next.”
I stood up and stepped out of the pew. With forty minutes until the funeral started, people would start showing up soon. I could see that the man from the funeral home had already pulled up and was unloading two urns from the back of his car: one for my brother and the other for his fiancé, Mia.
“Are you giving the eulogy?”
I shook my head. Not even for my brother was I going to get up in front of people and give a speech. “No. Mia’s sister, Gwen, is giving the eulogy.” Goddamn it. Even after all of these years, saying her name still felt like a knife to the gut. “You remember Gwen?”
Gwen was what I was bracing myself for. It’s one thing to lose your brother, to know he’s never coming back. It’s another thing to lose your soul mate, to know they’re out there in the world somewhere and have to see them again. I’d spoken to her for the first time in six years on the phone after the accident, long enough to express my condolences and tell her that I’d take care of the funeral arrangements. Gwen had thanked me and told me she’d take care of the eulogy. She knew how much I hated public speaking.
“Gwen?” Mac paused over the name, his eyes lighting up in sudden recognition. “Shit, man. Gwen Mathers? Your old girlfriend, Gwen?”
I nodded.
Mac shook his head. “Wow. I remember Gwen. You were really hung up on her.”
I rolled my eyes. Mac remembered Gwen because there had been more than a dozen nights in college where he’d tried to send me home with some tight-assed co-ed, and I’d put him off because I was with Gwen.
“Your brother was engaged to her sister?”
I nodded. Mia and my brother, Eric, had met through Gwen and me, though they hadn’t started dating until well after we’d broken up. To be honest, I had never been the biggest fan of Mia. She wasn’t the nicest to my brother - not that Eric had seemed to notice - and she had never seemed as into him as he was into her.
Or maybe I was just projecting. I’d been head over heels for Gwen. She’d been funny, and sexy as all hell, and just…good. Gwen was good. She was faithful, independent, and never clingy. From day one with Gwen, she’d felt like family. The breakup had felt less like a loss and more like a betrayal. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing her again.
And yet, I was about to. My brother would have wanted to be buried with the mother of his child. Plus, Mia and Eric hadn’t had that much money, and Mia’s family certainly would have struggled to cover a funeral expense. The Mathers’ father had died when the girls were young, their mother was an alcoholic middle-school art teacher, and Gwen was a social worker in Chicago. Not a lot of money there.
“You got here early,” I commented, changing the subject.
Mac gave me a small smile. “I knew you’d be here, Bro. You used to show up hours early for the game – always the first one in the locker room. But I didn’t want you brooding here all by yourself.”
“You’re a good guy,” I said to Mac. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there are people starting to arrive.”
My mother’s brothers had also showed up early, escorting my grandmother, who lived only two blocks away from the church. I gave my grandmother a kiss and shook hands with Uncle Hector, Uncle Anthony, and Uncle Carlo. They smiled at me stoically and went to take their places in the pews.
Mac came up and stood next to me as people began to arrive. I had wanted the service to be small, just close friends and immediate family, but that had been wishful thinking. Not only had half of my Miami Dolphins teammates showed up, but the extended family was in attendance as well. I’d never known my father, but my mother was close with her parents and their families, the Garcias and the Julianos. Both sides were showing up in numbers.
Then, there she was.
A yellow cab pulled up in front of the church, and Gwen Mathers stepped out: tall and slender, with creamy pale skin, thick, dark hair and the face of a Botticelli Angel. Seeing her again was like getting sacked by an entire row of linemen. She wore a high-necked, black dress that followed her figure without hugging it and ended before the knees. Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck, and sunglasses covered her eyes. The somber elegance was so unlike the girl I’d known. The girl I’d known had waited tables and tossed pizza dough in the back of Leoni’s, wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt.
I watched as Gwen’s mother stepped from the car. Where Gwen looked composed and calm, Alice looked like she was barely holding it together: her black shift dress was too large for her and slid off of her shoulder, and her graying hair was coming out of the pins she’d placed it in. She had not chosen to cover her eyes, and they were red and bloodshot.
I’d never liked Alice. Her husband’s death had undone her, and she’d never been able to pull it back together. Not even for her daughters. Mia and Gwen had mostly taken care of themselves.
Once her mother was out of the cab, Gwen reached in and pulled out Nikki. My heart broke at the sight of my tiny niece dressed in black. Nikki had Mia’s pale skin and my brother’s jet-black hair, although Nikki’s hair was curly where Eric’s had been straight. I had always wondered where that kid got such crazy curls. Certainly not from her parents.
Nikki stared up at the church and spotted me. She be
gan to fidget in Gwen’s arms, and when Gwen put her down, she was off like a shot.
Gwen started after her, but then she spotted me and stopped. Nikki threw herself into my arms and clung to my neck. I held her there a moment, rocking the girl back and forth and holding on for all I was worth. I had wanted to take Nikki home with me after the accident, but Alice Mathers had volunteered to stay in her daughter’s apartment for a few nights, and I’d relented. I had a lot to take care of anyway, and it was probably best for Nikki to stay somewhere familiar, even if it was with Alice.
“Gwen, Mrs. Mathers,” I said as Gwen and her mother approached.
Gwen’s eyes were behind the sunglasses, so I couldn’t read her expression. But she gave me a soft, small smile. “Hey, Law.” Fuck if my chest didn’t tighten up at the sound of her voice.
Gwen reached her arms out gently, but Nikki clung tightly to my neck, and I felt a small sense of satisfaction. Gwen lived in Chicago and hadn’t seen much of her niece. Nikki slept over at my house at least once a month.
Without another word, we parted. Mia’s side of the church was sparsely populated with all of Eric’s friends and family that couldn’t fit onto our family’s side. Gwen and her mother looked lonely sitting up at the front. But that wasn’t my problem. I took my seat next to my uncles and my grandmother.
2
Gwen
I stayed calm by inhaling and exhaling. The funeral had been straight forward, but speaking about Mia in the eulogy had been pure torture. My sister and I hadn’t gotten along – I’d never been happy about her relationship with Eric Henry for the same reasons I’d had to break up with Law: the Garcias and the Julianos were members of Miami’s corrupt organized crime syndicates. Dating a Henry was akin to being a Mafia member. It had taken me years to realize what Law’s family was, but when I had, I’d given him an ultimatum. It was me, or it was them. Law had chosen them. So to see Mia willingly choose to connect herself with a Henry… We’d gotten in a huge fight and had only really reconnected once Nikki was born.
But in the end, her death had had nothing to do with the Garcias or the Julianos. In the end, it had been an accident. My baby sister was gone, and I was never going to see her again.
“Can I give you both a lift to Beneventos?”
My stomach dropped into my feet, and I hoped I seemed composed as I turned to face Law. Damn it, but my heart still hurt at the sight of him.
Once again, in my time of need, Law had stepped forward. With his cool, calm competence, he’d taken care of all of the funeral arrangements. He’d put me in touch with Mia’s boss, her bank, and her lawyer. Now, standing before me in his best slim-fitting suit, he looked incredible, and all I wanted to do was melt into his arms.
Law’s mother had been half-Italian and half-Cuban, and his father’s descent was a mystery, although according to everyone who’d known the deadbeat Gio Henry, he’d been dark and had spoken Spanish and French. So maybe he was Haitian or Afro-Cuban. But given Law and Eric’s exotic combination of features, their father could have been any mix of nationalities. Law’s skin was pale brown, and his black hair was trimmed close to his skull. In college, his teammates had called him the Sphinx, and with his incredible cat-like turquoise eyes, chiseled features, and quiet poise, the nickname made sense.
“We’re fine,” I said to him, finding my voice. The last thing I could handle in my fragile emotional state was close proximity to Law Henry.
And yet, part of me wanted him to push the offer. Please, Law, ask me again! Just like part of me had wanted him to chase after me when I’d broken up with him. But this was Law. Law didn’t ask twice, and he didn’t chase. He just nodded and walked off.
“You go,” said my mother, her voice slightly slurry. I had a feeling she may have taken something before we’d left her house. “Imma take Nikki and go home.”
“That’s okay…” I said. If my mother wasn’t sober, it probably wasn’t a good idea to leave her with a two-year-old.
“I’m fine, Gwen, Jesus,” said my mother, sounding irritable. “I took a Xanax, not a tranquilizer. You can trust me not to be irresponsible with my own granddaughter.”
I pressed my lips together, not wanting to remind my mother about the number of times I’d found her unconscious somewhere. I have an artistic temperament, she’d always said. Leave me alone, and go live your own life.
I’d go to the reception, but I wouldn’t stay long.
As my mother got into the cab with Nikki, I realized, belatedly, that I didn’t have a ride.
“I’m sorry about Nikki, Gwen.” The voice was soft and kind, and I spun around to see Arthur Juliano leaning on a cane and giving me a familiar smile. Arthur owned Leonie’s, the pizza place I’d worked at when I was in high school and college.
“Thanks, Arthur,” I said. I had met Law through Arthur while I was waiting tables at Leonie’s. I’d been sixteen; Law had been eighteen and about to start college at the University of Michigan. We’d been friendly for two years before he’d asked me out. In my life, nothing had ever been more magical than that first summer when Law and I had started dating, and nothing had been more devastating than finding out that Law’s family was Mafia.
I’d worked at Leonie’s for four years before I’d realized that Arthur was a member of the Juliano crime family. I’d come to work early and interrupted a meeting. The day I found out was the day I’d tendered my resignation. I hadn’t spoken to Arthur since.
“Can I give you a ride to Benevento’s?” he asked.
I hadn’t accepted Law’s offer, and part of me didn’t want to accept Arthur’s either.
And yet, Arthur had always been kind to me and was trying to do me a favor now. If there was one day when I could forget who these people were, it would be today. Today wasn’t about them. It was about Mia. So I accepted.
On the car ride over, Arthur made small talk. He spoke about Mia and Eric, and he asked me what I had been getting up to in Chicago. I kept my answers vague and sighed in relief when we arrived at Benevento’s.
Benevento’s was owned by Arthur’s cousin and Law’s great uncle, Joseph Juliano. The Juliano family owned a few restaurants in Miami, but Benevento’s was one of their nicer ones. The tables had been cleared out of the main dining room to accommodate guests, and there was a bar, a buffet table with an antipasto spread, and servers walking around with appetizers.
I smiled slightly, imagining what Mia might have said about her own funeral reception: It’s nicer than anything we grew up with. Mia’s predilection for nice things was, I think, part of the reason she had never committed to marrying Eric. Eric had been a middle school history teacher. He hadn’t made any money.
But she’s not here. She’s gone. I could feel myself start to tear up again and tried to stop. I was about to take custody of Mia’s daughter. For Nikki, I needed to be strong.
“I thought you might want something to eat,” the deep voice that sounded over my shoulder sent tremors right through me, weakening my resolve not to cry. As tears welled, I closed my eyes and inhaled through my nose. But that made it worse. Law smelled the same: crisp and clean, like fresh linen and something spicy. His cologne, or his deodorant, or his laundry detergent…whatever it was, it wreaked havoc on my senses.
I turned. At 6’3”, Law was a good seven inches taller than I was, but with my heels on, I could easily look him in the eye – and that was a mistake. Law had the most incredible eyes of anyone I’d ever seen.
I looked away quickly, dabbing at my eyes. He’d made a plate for me, filling it with meat, cheese, and slices of bread.
“Thanks.” But I waved the plate away. “I can’t eat anything.” The thought of food turned my stomach. When I was miserable, I couldn’t eat at all. I’d lost a full fifteen pounds when I had broken up with Law six years ago.
“Want me to get you some ginger ale?” he asked.
“You don’t have to,” I said. “I’ll go over in a little bit.”
“Here,” Law gently
pressed the plate at me until I had to either grab it or let it fall down my front, and then he headed to the bar.
I couldn’t believe how packed Benevento’s was. Eric and Mia’s friends were here, there were several Miami Dolphins players, and the Garcias and Julianos were mixed throughout the crowd.
“This will help if your stomach is off,” said Law, coming back. He took the plate and pressed a glass of ginger ale in my hands. I drank it.
“How have you been, Gwen? You look well,” Law’s voice was impersonal, but in the crowded room, he stood close.
“I’ve been okay,” I lied. I was a social worker for the city of Chicago, and I worked with traumatized children – so I got to see a lot of life’s “ugly.” I’d recently broken up with a guy I’d been seeing for eight months, and then my sister’s accident… I’d been better. “How about you?” He looked the exact same as he had the day we’d broken up. And my year had been tough enough that his nearness and his concern were completely undoing me.
“Besides all this?” He looked around the room and shrugged. “I’ve been better.” He said it softly, and I felt his eyes raking me head to toe. Warmth pooled in the bottom of my stomach, and I shifted uncomfortably. I had a high sex drive, and apparently, six years hadn’t done a thing to diminish Law’s impact on me.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I suppose death is a part of life,” said Law, picking a peace of prosciutto from the plate he’d made for me and eating me. “But to die so young… He had his whole life ahead of him.”
I nodded. I’d always liked Eric and had never really liked the way that Mia treated him.
“But life’s a part of death too, isn’t it?” he said suddenly. “Nikki…that kid is so incredible.”