The Turning Point

by Marie Meyer

  “I see that your adoring fans have found you,” I laughed, watching Griffin walk like a giant, stomping as hard as he could, the twins giggling hysterically and hanging on for dear life.

  “Hey, Jillibean, you lose your helpers?” he asked, unfazed by the ambush.

  “Yeah, right,” I said, walking out front to join him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the familiar scents of leather and wind. A combination that would always be uniquely him. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I sighed, relaxing into his embrace. I felt safe, like nothing could hurt me when I was in his arms.

  Griffin’s arms circled my waist. “That bad, huh?”

  I slackened my grip and stepped back, giving him and the squirming boys at his feet more room. “My sister’s been especially vile today.”

  “When isn’t she?” Griffin replied.

  “Giddy up, Giff-in,” Mitchell wailed, bouncing up and down.

  “You about ready?” Griffin asked me, trying to remain upright while the boys pulled and tugged his legs in opposite directions.

  “Not really. I’ve got one more box to pack and a bunch to load into my car. They’re up in my room.”

  “Hear that, boys? Aunt Jillian needs help loading her boxes. Are you men ready to help?” he asked.

  “Yeah!” they shouted in unison.

  “Hang on tight!” Griffin yelled, and started running the rest of the way up the sidewalk and onto the porch. “All right, guys, this is where the ride ends. Time to get to work.” Griffin shook Michael off his left leg before he started shaking Mitchell off his right. The boys rolled around on the porch and Griffin playfully stepped on their bellies with his ginormous boots. The boys were laughing so hard I wouldn’t have been surprised to see their faces turning blue from oxygen deprivation.

  Following them to the porch, I shook my head and smiled. Griffin held his hand out and I laced my fingers through his, thankful he was here.

  “I’ll get the trailer hitched up to your car, and the stuff you have ready, I’ll put in the backseat. You finish up that last box; we’ve got a long trip ahead of us.” Griffin leaned in close and whispered the last part in my ear. “Plus, it’ll be nice to say adios to Queen Bitch,” he said, referring to my sister.

  “Sounds like a plan.” I winked. “Come on, boys.” I held the door open and waved them inside. “If you’re outside without a grown-up, your mom will kill me.” They both shot up from the porch and ran inside.

  “Giff-in,” Michael said, coming to a stop in the doorway. “Can we still help?”

  Griffin tousled his hair. “You bet, little man. Let’s go find those boxes.” He winked back at me and the three of them ran up the stairs.

  I trailed behind the boys, knowing that I couldn’t put off packing that “last box” any longer. When I got to my room, Griffin held a box in his hands, but it was low enough so that the boys thought they were helping to bear some of its weight. “Hey, slacker,” I said to Griffin, bumping his shoulder with my fist. “You letting a couple of five-year-olds show you up?”

  “These are not normal five-year-olds,” Griffin said in a deep commercial-announcer voice. “These boys are the Amazing Barrett Brothers, able to lift boxes equal to their own body weight with the help of the Amazing Griffin.”

  I rolled my eyes at his ridiculousness and smiled. “You better watch it there, Amazing Griffin, or I’ll have to butter the doorway to get your ego to fit through.”

  Still speaking in a cheesy commercial voice, Griffin continued. “As swift as lightning, we will transport this box to the vehicle waiting downstairs. Do not fear, kind lady, the Amazing Barrett Brothers and the Amazing Griffin are here to help.”

  “Oh, Lord. I’m in trouble,” I mumbled. And as swift as lightning (but really not), Griffin shuffled the boys out of the room and down the stairs.

  I grabbed my last empty box and walked across the room to my dresser. I pulled open a drawer and removed a folded stack of yoga pants, tees, and dozens of clothing projects I’d made over the years. Shuffling on my knees from one drawer to the next, I emptied each of them until I came to the drawer I’d been dreading. The one on the top right-hand side.

  The contents of this drawer had remained buried in darkness for almost five years. I was scared to open it, to shed light on the objects that reminded me of my past. I stared at the unassuming rectangular compartment, knowing what I had to do. I said a silent prayer for courage and pulled open the drawer.

  Inside, the 5 x 7 picture frame still lay upside down on top of several other snapshots. I reached for the stack. The second my fingers touched the dusty frame, I winced, as if expecting it to burst into flames and reduce me to a heap of ashes. Biting my lip, I grabbed the frame and forced myself to look.

  There we were. Mom, Dad, and a miniature version of me. Tears burned my eyes. My lungs clenched in my chest and I forced myself to breathe as I threw the frame into the box with my yoga pants. I pulled out the rest of the photos and tossed them in before they had a chance to stab me through the heart as well.

  Downstairs, I could hear the boys coming back inside and then footsteps on the stairs. Quickly, I folded the flaps of the box and pulled the packing tape off the dresser. With another screech, I sealed away all the bad memories of my childhood.

  “Well, my help dumped me,” Griffin said, coming back into my room alone. “Apparently, I’m not as cool as a toy car.”

  Before he could see my tears, I wiped my wet eyes with the back of my hand, sniffled, and plastered on a brave smile, then turned around. “There. Done,” I proclaimed, standing up and kicking the box over to where the others sat.

  “You okay?” Griffin asked, knowing me all too well.

  “Yeah.” I dusted my hands off on my jean shorts. “Let’s get this show on the road.” I bent down to grab a box, standing back up with a huge smile on my face. “I’m ready to get to college.”

  * * *

  Griffin took the last box from my hand and shoved it into the backseat of my car. “I’ll get my bike on the trailer, and then we’ll be ready to hit the road.” He wiped his upper arm across his sweaty forehead.

  I looked into his dark eyes and smiled. “Thanks,” I sighed.

  “For what?” With a toss of his head, he pushed a few errant curls out of his eyes.

  “For putting up with me.” He could have easily gotten a plane ticket home, but he knew how much I hated airplanes. The thought of him getting on a plane made me physically ill.

  He swung his arm around my neck, squeezing me with his strong arm. “Put up with you? I’d like to see you try to get rid of me.”

  With my head trapped in his viselike grip and my face pressed to his chest, I couldn’t escape his intoxicating scent. Even though it was too hot for his beloved leather riding jacket, the faint smell still clung to him. That, coupled with the heady musk clinging to his sweat-dampened T-shirt, made my head swim with thoughts that were well beyond the realm of friendship.

  I needed to refocus my thoughts, and I couldn’t do that pressed up against him. I shivered and pulled away. Taking a step back, I cleared my throat. “I’m going to tell Jennifer we’re leaving.” I thumbed toward the house.

  He scrutinized my face for a minute, then smirked. “Enjoy that. You’ve earned it.”

  I turned on my heel and let out a deep breath, trying desperately to rein in my inappropriate fantasies.

  Months ago, our easygoing friendship had morphed into an awkward dance of fleeting glances, lingering touches, and an unspeakable amount of tension. I thought he’d felt it, too. The night of my high school graduation party, I went out on a limb and kissed him. When our lips met, every nerve ending in my body fired at once. Embers of lust burned deep inside me. I’d never felt anything like that before. The thought of being intimate with someone made me want to run to the nearest convent. But not with Griffin. When our bodies connected, I felt whole and alive in a way I’d never felt before.

  Th
en he’d done what I’d least expected…he’d pushed me away. I’d searched his face for an explanation. He, more than anyone, knew what it had taken for me to put myself out there, and he’d pushed me away. Touting some bullshit about our timing being all wrong, that a long-distance relationship wouldn’t work, he insisted that I was nothing more than his friend. His rejection hurt worse than any of the cuts I’d inflicted upon myself in past years. But he was my best friend; I needed him far too much to have our relationship end badly and lose him forever. Regardless of his excuses, in retrospect, I was glad I wouldn’t fall victim to his usual love-’em-and-leave-’em pattern. Griffin was never with one girl for more than a couple of months; then he was on to the next. That would have killed me. So I picked up what was left of my pride, buried my feelings, and vowed not to blur the lines of our friendship again.

  Climbing the steps to the porch, I looked back at him before going into the house. Griffin had gone to work wheeling his bike onto the trailer. His biceps strained beneath the plain white tee he wore. I bit my bottom lip and cursed. “Damn it, Jillian. Stop torturing yourself.” Groaning, I reached for the doorknob.

  “Hey, Jennifer, we’re leaving,” I said, grabbing my car keys from the island in the middle of the kitchen. She sat at the kitchen table poring over cookbooks that helped her sneak vegetables into the twins’ meals. Poor boys, they didn’t stand a chance. Jennifer fought dirty…she always had.

  “It’s about time.” She turned the page of her cookbook, not even bothering to lift her eyes from the page.

  “What? No good-bye? This is it, the day you’ve been waiting for since I moved in. I thought you’d be at the door cheering.”

  Usually I was more reserved with my comments, but today I felt brave. Maybe moving to Rhode Island and going to design school gave me the extra backbone I’d lacked for the last twelve years. Or maybe it was just the fact that I didn’t have to face her any longer. By the look on Jennifer’s face, my mouthy comments surprised her as well. She stood up from the table, tucked a piece of her shoulder-length blond hair behind her ear, and took a small step in my direction. Her mannerisms and the way she carried herself sparked a memory of our mother. As Jennifer got older, that happened more often, and a pang of sadness clenched my heart. Where I’d gotten Dad’s lighter hair and pale complexion, Jennifer had Mom’s coloring: dark blond hair, olive skin. But neither of us had got Mom’s gorgeous blue eyes. The twins ended up with those.

  Beyond the couple of features Jennifer shared with Mom, though, their similarities ended. When Mom smiled, it was kind and inviting. Jennifer never smiled. She was rigid, harsh, and distant. Nothing like Mom.

  Jennifer curled her spray-tanned arms around my back. I braced for the impact. Jennifer wasn’t affectionate, especially with me, so I knew something hurtful was in store. I held perfectly still as she drew me close to her chest. The sweet, fruity scent of sweet pea blossoms—Jennifer’s favorite perfume—invaded my senses. For such a light, cheery fragrance, it always managed to weigh heavy, giving me a headache.

  Jennifer pressed her lips to my ear and whispered, “Such a shame Mom and Dad aren’t here to see you off. I’m sure they would have told you good-bye.” She slid her hands to my shoulders and placed a small kiss on my cheek.

  And there it was. The dagger through my heart. Mom and Dad. She knew they were my kryptonite. For the second time in less than an hour, I felt acidic drops of guilt leaking from my heart and circulating through my body. But what burned more than the guilt was the fact that she was right. It was a shame they weren’t here. And I had no one to blame but myself.

  I held my breath while my eyes welled up with tears. Not today, Jillian. You will not cry. I refused to give her the satisfaction. I stood up taller, giving myself a good two inches on her, and swallowed the lump forming in my throat. She was not going to ruin this day. The day I’d worked so hard to achieve.

  “Ready to go?” Griffin said, coming around the corner. “The boys are waiting by the door to say good-bye.”

  Jennifer stepped away from me and gave Griffin a disgusted once-over. “And yet another reason why I’m glad Jillian decided to go away to school,” she said. “At least I get a respite from the white trash walking through my front door.” Piercing me with an icy stare, she continued. “With the endless parade of women he flaunts in front of you, the tattoos, the music”—she scowled—“I’ve never understood the hold he has on you, Jillian.” She stifled a laugh. “Pathetic, if you ask me.”

  Griffin took a step in her direction. “Excuse me?” he growled, his expression darkening. I knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but he was damn good at intimidating her. He wasn’t the little boy who lived next door anymore. He’d grown up. With his deep voice and considerable size, he towered over her, the muscles in his arms flexing.

  She shuffled backward. “Just go.” With a dismissive flick of her wrist, she sat back down at the table.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought, all bark and no bite.” Griffin pulled on my arm. “Come on, Bean. You don’t have to put up with her shit anymore.”

  I glanced at Jennifer; she’d already gone back to her broccoli-laced brownie recipe. Griffin was right; I wouldn’t have to put up with her shit while I was away. But he was wrong about her bite. When he wasn’t around to back her down, she relished the chance to sink her teeth into me. It hurt like hell when she latched on and wouldn’t let go.

  We walked down the hallway. Michael and Mitchell were waiting by the door. “I need a big hugs, boys,” I said, bending down and opening my arms wide. “This hug has to last me until December, so make it a good one.” Both of them stepped into my embrace and I held on to them tightly. “You two be good for your mommy and daddy,” I said.

  “We will,” they replied.

  I let go and they smiled. “I love you both.”

  “Love you, Aunt Jillian,” they said.

  “Now, go find your mom. She’s in the kitchen.” Knowing the boys’ penchant for sneaking out of the house, I wanted to be sure their mother had them corralled before Griffin and I left.

  I stood back up and looked into Griffin’s dark eyes. “I’m ready.” I tossed him the keys.

  “I’m the chauffeur, huh?” Griffin smirked, pulling his eyebrow up. He opened the door for me and I stepped out onto the porch.

  “You get the first nine hours; I’ll take the back side.” This time he gave me a full smile. What would I do without him? On the porch, I froze. It finally hit me. What would I do without him? Sure, I wanted out of Jennifer’s house, but at what expense? Couldn’t I just go to the junior college like Griff and get my own apartment? Why had I made the decision to go to school eleven hundred miles away? How could I leave him—my best friend?

  The lump in my throat came back but I forced the words out anyway. “Griff…” I sounded like a damn croaking frog.

  Griffin wrapped his arms around me. “Yeah?”

  “Why am I doing this?”

  “What do you mean? This is all you’ve talked about since you got the scholarship.”

  “I know.” I sniffled. “But I don’t know if I can do this. We’ll be so far apart.”

  “Uh-uh. Stop that right now. I am not about to let you throw away the opportunity of a lifetime just because we won’t see each other as often. You’re too talented for Glen Carbon, Illinois, and you know it. Now go, get your ass in the car.” With his hand, he popped me on the backside, just to get his point across.

  I jumped, not expecting his hand on my ass. My heart skipped and my cheeks flushed. “Hey!” I swatted his hand away.

  “Get in the car, Jillian.”

  Damn, I already miss him.

  Acknowledgments

  One would think this part would get easier to write with each new book, but that is not the case. Writing hundreds of pages, breathing life into characters, none of that would be possible without the people named here. I am humbled and so very thankful for all their love, guidance, and support.

  My agent, L
ouise Fury: I’ve had so many memorable moments in the last two years, and meeting you at RWA15 was yet another! The energy and devotion you give to your clients is awe-inspiring. Your advice, attention to detail, and enthusiasm make me a better storyteller, and for that I am grateful. I am blessed to have you in my corner. Thank you for guiding me on this journey!

  Lady Lioness: RWA15! It was so wonderful to finally have met you! I’m so thankful to have you and Louise to edit and mold my writing into something presentable. Now, three years after Pitch Wars (Wow! Has it really been that long? Crazy!), I still love opening your edit letters!!

  My editor, Megha Parekh, of Grand Central Publishing: The summer of 2015 contained so much awesome, and meeting you at RWA15 only made it that much more awesome! From having lunch together to the Forever Romance party, the whole experience was surreal and wonderful! Thank you for your patience and insightful edits with The Turning Point. I’d also like to thank Dana Hamilton, whose edits and enthusiasm for my work helped make The Turning Point what it is today (I also loved meeting you at RWA as well)! Working with everyone—Megha, Dana, and the Forever Yours team—this last year has been an amazing journey and a dream come true!

  To the Grand Central Publishing/Forever Yours Production Team: my publicist, Fareeda Bullert, thank you for helping readers encounter The Turning Point (and AtD & CGB)! From blog tours to teasers, thank you for everything! Also, it was so lovely meeting you at RWA15! My cover designer, Brian Lemus, thank you for giving TTP such a beautiful cover! You captured Sophia and Lucas perfectly! And to everyone else at GCP/Forever Yours, thank you for helping transform The Turning Point into a book and getting my words into the hands of readers!

  A special thank you to Rachel Van Dyken, for graciously reading The Turning Point and writing a lovely blurb. Thank you so much, Rachel!

  My Darlings: Guess what? I love you! There are not enough thank-yous to shower upon you, but I do pay in hugs and kisses…and Mini Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups! The two of you are the lights of my life and the reason I work so hard.