Cherish Me

by Farrah Rochon

  But she hadn’t done any of that, had she?

  Why not? It was a question Willow had asked herself countless times since the dinner she and Harrison had attended with some of their old college friends earlier this year. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t had the opportunity. Her husband had encouraged her to continue with her education. Even a few years into their marriage, after landing the job at Bossier, Guidry & Associates, he’d looked into the on-site daycare and secured a spot for Lily so that Willow could go back to school if she wanted to.

  She was the one who’d said no. She was the one who’d decided she could better support her family by taking care of house and home. The truth, when she chose to face it, was an ugly one. The only person Willow had to blame for the regrets she’d felt since that dinner was herself.

  But she couldn’t share any of this with Jade. Willow knew her sister too well. Jade would feel guilty and apologize for her own success, when she had nothing to apologize for. As far as telling her about the dinner? Well, if Willow told her about the first dinner, then she’d have to tell her about the second one—the one that Harrison hadn’t attended. The one none of the others had attended, only herself and Marcus.

  It was only dinner.

  Yes, it was only dinner, but her guilt over keeping it from her husband continued to eat away at her.

  “It’s a combination of things,” Willow finally answered, intentionally keeping her answer vague. Knowing Jade would jump on this next tidbit, Willow added, “Honestly, I think I may be a bit depressed.”

  “Well, I already suggested that,” her sister said. “Not that I would ever try to diagnose you, but the signs are there. You know depression is nothing to sneeze at, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  Willow had done enough research on Situational Depression to know that she had likely fallen into one. Considering the combination of losing her mother-in-law, anxiety over Harrison’s hectic work schedule, Athens’s health issues, Liliana’s pissy teenage mood swings, and her feelings of inadequacy when she compared her life to other people around her, and there was no doubt she was a walking case for a situationally depressed person. She also knew better than to think it was something she could somehow work her way out of on her own.

  “I’ve been thinking about seeing someone,” Willow admitted. “A therapist.”

  Jade set her wineglass on the side table and picked up her phone. She tapped on the screen a few times, then put the phone back down. “I just sent you the number for one of the best in New Orleans. Dr. Abraham Rosen. He and I went to Stanford together.”

  “Thanks,” Willow said. She blew out a tired breath. “I guess my days will be filled with therapists and doctor visits for the foreseeable future.” She looked over at her sister. “Last night Harrison suggested we start seeing a marriage therapist.”

  “I highly support that,” Jade said. “Of course, I’m biased, but it’s a smart decision. Again, nothing to be ashamed of. Often times the people in a relationship have too much of an inward focus. It may take someone from the outside to see what you and Harrison can’t see. ”

  “Yeah, well, seeing a therapist wasn’t the only thing we talked about.” Her sister looked over at her, one brow lifted in inquiry. “He gave me my anniversary present,” Willow said.

  She pushed herself up from the sofa, walked over to the built-in bookshelves, and pulled the printed airline tickets from the Jesmyn Ward novel she’d tucked them in this morning. Then she walked back over to the sofa and handed them to her sister.

  Jade unfolded the papers and nearly choked on her wine. “Rome? You’re going to freaking Rome?”

  Willow hunched her shoulders. “I haven’t decided just yet.”

  “Haven’t decided? What’s there to decide?”

  “I don’t know if this is the right move, Jade. I’m afraid Harrison will expect this to be some kind of cure-all for all that ails our marriage. We can’t fly off for a week in Italy and then expect everything to be normal once we get back home. That’s why I’m not sure if we should even go.”

  “Do you hear yourself right now?” The incredulousness in her sister’s voice was so thick it was practically another occupant in the room.

  “What?” Willow asked. “You’re the psychologist here. You know it’s a possibility that’s what he’s thinking.”

  “I’m not speaking as a psychologist right now. I’m coming to you as a sister. If that fine-ass man offers to spend a week with you in one of the most romantic places on God’s green earth and you even consider not going, you can forget about seeing Abraham. I’m going to have you admitted to the psych ward.”

  Willow rolled her eyes.

  “Wait.” Jade held the tickets up closer to her face. “You leave Saturday?”

  “I told you it’s for our anniversary. We make seventeen years next week.”

  “Why are we just sitting here? You should be packing! Let’s go.”

  “No.” Willow shook her head. “You’re only here for a night. I’m not going to spend it packing.”

  Of course, her sister completely ignored her. She set her wineglass on the side table and hopped up from the couch.

  “You don’t have to pack, but we can at least pick out what you’re going to bring.”

  Willow knew any complaints would continue to be ignored, so she followed Jade to the bedroom. She stood to the side while her sister searched her closet, pulling out dresses and holding them against her front.

  “I wish I lived closer. I would totally borrow some of these. Of course they would look like mini dresses on me, but I’d still look cute.”

  “Is that a short person joke?”

  “You’ll know when I’m making a short person joke.” Jade gestured toward Willow’s pocket. “Grab your phone and see what the weather in Rome will be like next week.”

  As Willow did as directed, her sister continued her closet browsing, picking out several outfits and dresses she deemed suitable for an Italian vacation.

  “Okay, now for the important stuff. Where’s the lingerie?”

  “Really, Jade?” Willow rolled her eyes. “Lingerie isn’t going to help my marriage.”

  “It can’t hurt.” Jade headed for the other side of the walk-in closet.

  “Uh, hello!” Willow raced over to where her sister was rummaging through the built-in drawers.

  “A bunch of granny panties and ratty T-shirts?” Her sister asked, that incredulous tone making a reappearance. “I know you don’t want any more kids, but there are more effective forms of birth control, you know?”

  “Shut up.” Willow jerked her favorite, threadbare T-shirt from Prince’s 2004 Musicology Tour from her sister’s hand. “After nearly twenty years together, sexy underwear isn’t that important.”

  “Says who? And I’ll repeat: it can’t hurt.” Jade stuffed the T-shirts back in the drawer and took Willow by the arm again. “Come on. We have some work to do.”

  “What are you up to?”

  “Just follow me.”

  Jade marched them both out of the house. Twenty minutes later, Willow found herself walking into the Victoria’s Secret Boutique in Lakeside Shopping Center.

  She was a grown woman with two children, yet could still feel her face heating as her baby sister methodically moved from one rack to another, debating everything from aesthetics to ease of removal. When they left the store an hour later, Willow was armed with five new pieces of clothing. All things she never would have considered buying on her own.

  She climbed behind the wheel of her SUV and turned over the engine, but then left it idling as she peered over at her sister.

  “Look, Jade, this was fun and all, but you know a few pieces of sexy lingerie won’t repair my marriage, right?”

  “I never claimed they would. However…”

  “It can’t hurt,” Willow droned, rolling her eyes yet again.

  “Don’t go out there expecting drastic changes. You’re not going to fix your relationship in a single we
ek. The important thing here is spending time together. Go and enjoy your husband. Leave the expectations at home.”

  “But there are expectations,” Willow argued. She thumped a fist against the steering wheel. “I know my husband. Harrison will—”

  “Forget what you think you know. I repeat: Go and enjoy your husband, Willow. Enjoy the hell out of him. Fuck each other’s brains out, then eat some gelato.”

  Willow burst out laughing despite her misgivings.

  “I mean it, honey,” Jade said. She reached over and covered the hand that now clenched the steering wheel. “You and Harrison mean too much to each other not to give yourselves the best possible chance. But if you try to force something to happen, it may backfire. Just enjoy it. And whatever happens, happens.”

  Willow sucked in a slow, cleansing breath. “Okay.” She nodded. “No expectations. I will go to this place I’ve wanted to visit my entire life and have the best time ever with my husband.”

  “There you go. And don’t forget that whole fucking his brains out thing,” Jade said. “That’s important. Do it for all of us who don’t have fine ass husbands with thighs that look as if they’re made of steel.”

  Willow slid her a look. “You’ve been checking out my husband’s thighs?”

  “Hell yes,” her sister said. “His and those fine ass brothers’.”

  Willow chuckled, shaking her head. Maybe Jade was right. Maybe the key to enjoying this time away with Harrison was to let whatever was going to happen just…well…happen. It wasn’t as if she was going with a stranger. She was going with the man she considered her one true soul mate.

  She and Harrison deserved this chance. They deserved every chance when it came to salvaging their marriage.

  It was time she allow them to have it.

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t just take what they’re offering and move on?”

  As he sat across the conference table from Michael Delmonico, Harrison resisted the urge to bat the twenty-something away from him like a pesky gnat. It wasn’t the way one conducted oneself when dealing with a client, no matter how much the client deserved it.

  Of course, Michael wasn’t their official client. It was his father who sat at the helm of Delmonico Machinery. If Harrison had any say in the matter, he would deal directly with Luca Delmonico every single time. Luca was a shark, not afraid of a good bluff. Michael was afraid of his own shadow. The younger man didn’t realize how weak it would make them look if they caved to Phillip MacMahon’s latest demands.

  “No, we should not,” Harrison answered him. “Trust me on this.”

  It was a good thing the company was being sold. If Luca had decided to pass the company he’d built on to his son, Michael would run it into the ground within a couple of years.

  Thankfully, he would never have that chance, because Harrison was going to get the Delmonicos more money than they could have possibly dreamed of for their small, family-run machinery business. This deal was, by far, the most important he’d taken on since being made partner. Possibly the most important of his life. Luca had come to him back when he was still with Bossier, et al. If one wanted to be a dick about it, they could argue that Harrison had stolen the client from his old firm. And if ever there was one who prided himself on being a dick, it was Phillip MacMahon. It was just one of the reasons his former coworker was out for blood.

  Harrison didn’t give a shit.

  Campbell & Holmes’s fee for negotiating this acquisition was small potatoes to the guys at his old firm, but for a two-man outfit like the one he and Jonathan shared, that was life-changing money.

  And young Michael here wanted to just take what was being offered and move on? Get the fuck outta here!

  As enticing as thirty-five percent of an eight-figure payout was, for Harrison, this was about more than just the money. This was about pride. And doing what he thought was best for his client, of course. The Delmonicos would benefit from these hardcore tactics just as much as he would.

  Harrison had started at Bossier, Guidry & Associates not long after finishing law school and had reached legend status his second year at the firm by stepping in when a senior associate came down with food poisoning in the middle of a heated contract negotiation. He was the young, hotshot lawyer all the others in the firm talked about around the water cooler. He was the one his fellow junior associates envied. Harrison had figured it was just a matter of time before the powers that be took notice. If he worked hard enough they would eventually give him his due.

  But that was never going to happen. He knew that now. He had the evidence thrust in his face whenever he sat across the table from Phillip MacMahon. Phillip, who had been brought into the firm three years after Harrison joined. Who didn’t have nearly the track record Harrison did. But who’d made partner, when Harrison had been told “maybe next year” for five years in a row.

  He didn’t need anyone at Bossier, Guidry & Associates to validate him. But he could still relish the look on Phillip’s face when he was forced to tell his client that he would have to pay eighteen million dollars if he wanted to acquire Delmonico Machinery.

  Was it too much to ask to see a few tears? That would be sweet.

  A knock on the door jerked Harrison out of his vengeful daydreams. Their office manager, LaKeisha, poked her head in. “Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Holmes, but your wife just called. There’s an emergency with one of your kids.”

  Harrison’s heart immediately jumped into his throat. In the span of two seconds his overactive brain had conjured a scenario of Athens falling into a diabetic coma, despite the positive feedback they’d received from Dr. Fudge yesterday. Or what if he was hit in the chest with a baseball during Phys. Ed? Hadn’t he just read about a kid dying during a Little League game from that very thing?

  “I can come back later,” Michael said.

  Harrison had forgotten the other man was in the office. “Yes. I’ll be in touch.” He called Willow before Michael Delmonico even left the room. She picked up on the first ring.

  “I’m getting my stuff. I should be at St. Aug in another ten minutes.”

  “No, come to St. Katherine’s.”

  Harrison stopped short. “St. Katherine’s? This is about Liliana?”

  “Yes,” Willow said, weariness saturating her voice. He heard another voice in the background. “One minute, Harrison.” Muffled voices continued on for a few moments before Willow returned to the line. “How quickly can you get here?”

  “I’m leaving now. I can be there in ten minutes tops,” he said. “What happened? Is she okay?”

  “She’s okay. Just get here.”

  Harrison made it to the all-girls private school that cost more per semester than what he’d paid for his undergraduate degree twenty years ago in eight minutes flat. Moments later, he walked into the main office.

  “Hello Mr. Holmes,” the school secretary greeted before he had a chance to speak. “They’re in Dr. Saul’s office. You can go right in.”

  “What’s this about?” Harrison asked, but the secretary simply motioned toward the frosted glass door with Dr. Evelyn Saul, Ed.D. etched in block letters. He entered the office and could have sworn there was a difference in the air’s molecular makeup. A weightiness existed within these walls that he hadn’t felt on the other side of the door.

  Willow sat across from the principal’s sleek, steel and glass desk. Liliana sat in one of three chairs against the wall.

  “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” Harrison said as he took the seat next to Willow’s. He looked over at her. “What’s going on?”

  Willow turned to Lily. “I’ll let your daughter tell you.”

  All eyes turned to Lily, who slunk lower in her seat. “I got in a fight,” she mumbled.

  Harrison’s eyes bucked. “A fight?”

  Dr. Saul cleared her throat. “Do you want to correct that misstatement, or should I?”

  “I provoked a fight,” Lily said.

  “Wait. You started a fight? Y
ou? About what?”

  “Does the reason really matter?” Willow asked. “The school has a zero-tolerance policy. Liliana knows this.”

  Dread oozed down Harrison’s spine. Zero tolerance? Did that mean they were throwing her out? After all the money they’d spent sending her to this school? Couldn’t be. There had to be a couple of steps between a fight and getting tossed out of school.

  “Our policy calls for expulsion,” Dr. Saul said, as if she’d read his mind and wanted to confirm his fears before any inkling of hope could set in. “We will still have the disciplinary hearing, of course, but in the ten years I’ve been principal of this school there has only been one exception to that rule. And because Liliana has already admitted to being the instigator, and because the drama teacher, Mrs. Calder, witnessed it…”

  The principal hunched her shoulders in a what else is there to say? gesture.

  Harrison ran a hand down his face. Talk about a damn nightmare.

  “So, is that it?” he asked. “She’s out? Just like that?”

  “That’s the way zero tolerance works, Mr. Holmes. The rules are clearly stated—”

  “Whatever happened to detention? Hell, even a couple of weeks’ suspension? There has to be something less drastic than kicking her out of school. These are kids. They’re allowed to make mistakes.”

  “Harrison,” Willow said in a cautionary voice.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. He released a frustrated breath.

  The principal, whom he’d always liked, folded her hands and placed them on the desk. Her eyes held more understanding than he deserved.

  “Policy states that the student is first suspended until a disciplinary hearing is held. That will likely take place on Friday, but may be delayed because of testing, which Liliana will be allowed to go through with. However, she will be tested separately from the student body.

  “Pending the outcome of the hearing, a decision will be made within the next week. But understand that the likelihood of that decision being anything other than expulsion is minimal.