Keep Her

by Faith Andrews

  Keep Her by Faith Andrews

  Copyright © 2014 by Faith Andrews

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Except the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles and lyrics contained in the book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  To my mother for being my rock, my voice of reason, my teacher, my role model, and my friend. You’ve always loved me unconditionally and without judgment, supporting all my dreams and even my mistakes. Thank you for accepting me for who I am and for helping me in ways I never imagined you could.

  I’ll love you forever,

  I’ll like you for always,

  As long as I’m living

  my Mommy you’ll be.

  ~Robert Munsch, Love You Forever

  Dear God, let today be the day. Please take her with you. Bring her home to be with my Nanny. Let her be at peace.

  The tears streamed down my face—I couldn’t believe I had any left at this point, but praying for death… I guess that brings on tears no matter how depleted you are.

  “Ry,” Mom said, holding out her hand. “Where’s Marcus?”

  That was a good question. I looked around the room, as if he might be hidden in some corner, but from the sounds of the over-excited announcer and the loud roar coming from the television, it was obvious he was in the living room, watching the Yankees game with Dad and his best friend, Beck. Avoidance was his coping mechanism. He couldn’t keep vigil by her side anymore. It was too painful for him. He didn’t know how to handle his emotions—he was going to be lost without her. She was his best friend in the whole world, even if he was too macho of a teenage boy to admit it. Keeping busy kept him sane.

  I stood, adjusting her favorite patchwork quilt so it covered my mother’s bony arms. “He’s watching the Yankees, why? Want me to get him?”

  “No,” she said on a whisper, her frail voice becoming less and less distinguishable as the lively one I’d grown up with. “I want to talk to you alone. There are things I need to say.”

  The tears that had finally subsided welled up again, this time lodging themselves in my throat and flooding my vision as well. I knew from experience that when people on their death beds started talking about things they needed to say or confessions they had to get off their chest, the end was near. As much as I needed to see her out of pain, I also wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye. But I held back from begging her to hold on and nodded, gripping her fragile hand.

  She squeezed mine back with the tiniest bit of strength. As weak as it was, it comforted me. I hoped her words would too. She spoke slowly, as if reciting a speech, something important she’d rehearsed. For all I knew, she probably had. “I know you think I’m going to miss so much—graduations, boyfriends, your wedding, your babies, but—” she paused, swallowing back her own tears and pushing forward with a loving smile. “I will be here, Riley Jo. I will be here to guide you and celebrate with you on every one of those journeys. Right now it might be hard to believe that’s true but I’ll fight with the man upstairs Himself just to make sure I’m by your and your brother’s sides whenever I’m supposed to be.”

  “Mom—” I tried to interrupt, but she brought her hand up to my cheek and the touch of her cool, soft skin silenced me.

  “Let me finish, sweetie.”

  I nodded, placing my hand over hers and encouraging her to continue.

  “You’ve made me so proud, Ry. You’re bound for greatness, I just know it. Everything you touch just seems to be improved because of you. You’ll have that same impact on your father and brother and I don’t want them to be a burden, even though I know it’s your nature to step up to the plate and take over—that’s just you, but… you need to remember to live this life for you too. Daddy will be okay in time and Marcus… he’ll grow up—one of these days.” She smiled the widest I’d seen in days, letting out the slightest chuckle.

  As much as she adored her son, he was a handful lately. Rebelling because of his anger over our mother’s health; taking advantage of his newfound stud status with the ladies. Now that they were finally taking interest in him, he was suddenly a cocky little son of a bitch. And they actually liked that about him.

  I laughed alongside her, thinking about how much my mother and I could get a rise out of my little brother. I’d miss that—God, I’d miss so many things once she was gone.

  Before I could tell her this, she swallowed back another gulp of tears to continue where she left off. “What I’m trying to say is—sweetie, be happy. You’re smart, beautiful, and the most loving person I know, but you’re also stubborn and sometimes too selfless. Do things just because they make you smile. Never settle, honey, but you need to kiss a lot of frogs and then marry your prince. Learn to let things go, even if you don’t want to.”

  My mother and I had had a lot of heart to hearts over the years, but she was always guarded with me because she thought I was sensitive. So, the vulnerability in her words of wisdom came as a surprise. “So,” I said, wiping away a tear, “you wait ‘til now to unleash it all, huh?”

  I guided her up by her elbow, adjusting her pillows as she continued with a chuckle, “I know it seems that way, but I’ve told you these things—in other ways—your whole life. You’re too serious, Riley. I know you feel you need to be, but it’s okay not to be perfect all the time.”

  I wanted to believe that with all my heart. I wanted to be able to live this through, especially since these were the words my mother decided to leave me with. But even though I wanted to make that promise, it would be damn near impossible to simply “let my hair down” once she was gone. She was leaving us with big shoes to fill and if my father and brother—hell, all three of us—were going to survive her death, I would have to be more serious than I’d ever been.

  Not wanting to disappoint her or give her any inkling that I wouldn’t follow through on her wish, I leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. “You are one wise woman, Mom. What the hell are we going to do without you?”

  She raised her cold hand to my face, tucking a hair behind my ear and then resting her palm against my cheek. “Live. You’re going to live.”

  That night,
after giving my brother a similar speech of his own, whispering her secret recipe for meatballs in Beck’s ear, and kissing my Dad with her last bit of strength, my mother passed.

  The moment was absolutely surreal. In all the time I had prepared myself, I imagined crying and screaming and sobbing like there was no tomorrow. But after years of chemo and operations and months of painful suffering, the most amazing sense of relief washed over me as I watched my mother close her eyes and take her last peaceful breath.

  The world was losing a remarkable woman, and heaven—God, I was so damn envious of heaven in that moment—was gaining an incredible angel. Our lives would never be the same without her. The healing process would take a lifetime, if I ever actually healed at all. But I had to do what my mother wanted most for me. After I mourned and grieved until I thought I’d break in two. After I got things in order and took care of my crumpled family so we felt whole again. After I screamed and cursed for hating the world and then learned to love it again for all its miracles, I had to keep her memory alive and just… live.

  “Fallon, put down the damn tabloid and check my phone to see who just texted me. I’m waiting for a decision from Mrs. Ashworth about the wallpaper swatches we sent over earlier today.”

  My assistant/bestie ran his hand though his recently coiffed bro-hawk, gaping at John Travolta’s alien baby. I snatched the rag mag out of his hands, threw it across the room, and reached for my phone.

  “What?” Fallon rolled his pretty green eyes. “I know it’s bullshit, but at least it’s entertaining. You’re as boring as watching paint dry, Miss Interior Designer Extraordinaire… all work, no play.”

  Oh, what did he know anyway? His idea of fun was prowling happy hour at Lucky Cheng’s with the rest of his gorgeous-but-gay friends. Okay, even I had to admit that the last few times I tagged along I had a blast, but hanging out with Fallon and his “buds” on a regular basis wasn’t going to help me end my dry spell.

  I retrieved the incoming text and couldn’t believe the irony. Fallon and Lucky Cheng’s might keep things dry, but an invitation to that new bar on Fifth with Marcus, Beck, and Tessa—that sounded promising. Even if it did mean being kind of a third wheel. As much as they denied it, something was going on with Marcus and Tessa lately, and Beck… he was unavailable and dating that ice queen. I’d have to drag Tessa away from her infatuation with my little brother and make her my wing woman.

  I texted the group back, letting them know I was in for tonight and a smile spread across my face—a hopeful one. I could use a night out, even if it didn’t end up with a hook-up. In fact, I vowed to myself that tonight I would not entertain that random, sloppy, I’m-never-gonna-see-you-again kiss. I was in the mood to dance and have fun and forget this week of annoying clients and underqualified assistants. “Ha! I’m going out dancing tonight.” I stuck my tongue out at Fallon and skipped across the office to pick the tabloid up off the floor. Returning the magazine to Fallon, who was staring at me unimpressed, I gloated, “You can resume your, uh, intellectual reading now while I decide on something to wear. God, do I need this night out.”

  “You’re telling me,” he whispered, snickering.

  Planting my hand on my hip, I tilted my head. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Riley, you’re skipping around the office like a happy moron over going to a bar. I mean, I would be skipping just to be in the same room as that hot piece of man candy that is your little brother, but… most single people our age do this a few nights a week. Not once every four months.”

  Every four months? I had a date only a few weeks ago, albeit a lame one. But still, that counted as going out. Instead of sulking and whining about my lack of a social life, I chose to come back with my go-to excuse. Work. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Party Animal, but I actually have a career… a flourishing one at that. I don’t have time to go out and get trashed and canoodle with drag queens four nights a week.”

  “Hey, leave the queens out of this, missy. Listen,” Fallon said, cocking an eyebrow as he stood and walked toward me. He placed a perfectly manicured hand at my shoulder and squeezed me against his small but muscular frame. “I’ve worked with you side-by-side, day in and day out, for the last two years. You are one bad-ass career woman who knows her color wheel and accent pillows, but… I also know you’re lonely.”

  “I am not lonely,” I insisted, pushing away from him. Okay, that was a lie, but I didn’t need Fallon—the guy who had a random meaningless roll in the hay at least twice a week—as my life coach. “Tessa’s back, and I have Dad and Marcus and…”

  “And me. You have me too, love, but you don’t have anyone to call your own and I know you want that. We’re not enough and—newsflash, lady—that’s okay! You deserve your knight in shining armor and everything that comes after it. I’ve heard you all goo goo, ga ga over Tessa’s son. You want that—you want what all the good girls want, Ry. Marriage, kids, the picket fence. It’s okay to admit it.”

  I did want all that. Everyone who knew me for more than five minutes knew that, but right now it just wasn’t in my cards. I’d gone on blind dates set up by mutual friends, tried the internet thing, even gave a few exes a second shot—none of them measured up to my expectations. Well, I shouldn’t say expectations. It was more of this need to feel like my mom would’ve liked the guy. None of them seemed mom-approved. Yet.

  “I don’t want to talk about my shitty love life, Fallon.” It was easier to brush him off than to have this conversation again. “Why don’t you come with tonight? You can drool over my brother. Maybe distract him from Tessa for a bit. I need to ravage the dance floor with my old partner in crime.”

  “As much as I’d like to ravish the dance floor and your brother, I have plans tonight,” he said with wild, unruly, dancing brows.

  “Cheng’s again?”

  “We don’t only hang at Cheng’s, you close-minded freak. Every once in a while I do have a subdued romantic evening with one of my gentleman callers.”

  “Well, your loss then. You would’ve fit in perfectly with me and Tess. You’ll have to come along next time.” I sat back down at my desk, pulling up my emails. It was only one o’clock in the afternoon and dancing the night away seemed like a lifetime in the future. “Now, seriously, Fal… go do some work before I have to fire yo’ ass.”

  “Marissa, let me go. My texts are buzzing non-stop. There’s nothing to talk about anyway. You already made your decision.”

  She’d made her decision two days ago and shocked the shit out of me. I understood how important passing the bar was to her, but I also thought after two years together, I was important too. This dead-end phone conversation had me replaying that one over again in my head.

  “Baby, I’ve been thinking,” I finally blurted out. I’d wanted this for a long time, but was too chicken shit to admit it. Marissa had me thinking things men my age shouldn’t think about… like getting hitched, having babies, growing old together. I was in deep with this girl and wasn’t too afraid to admit it.

  “And what exactly is it you’ve been thinking about, Beck? Does it include you, me and a weekend away?—because Lord knows we could use that after all the studying I’ve been doing for this god-awful exam. Just a bit longer and we’ll be back to normal.”

  Without hesitation, I manned-up and spit it out. “Move in with me.” There, I said it. There was no turning back now. She was looking forward to a weekend away, but what I was offering was even better—waking up together every single morning. She was sure to say yes.

  “Um…”

  So not what I was expecting. That two-letter word nearly had me dropping the phone. Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have done this over the phone. What an eager asshole. I should have done this on a romantic date. What the hell was I thinking? “Baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that. I should’ve planned this better. Let me take you out tonight so we can talk about it over lobster—your favorite.”

  “No, Beck, it’s not that,
it’s just…”

  The hesitation in her voice had me on edge for the second time since I laid my heart on the line. Why the fuck was I sensing a problem? “Ris, did you not hear me? I’m asking you to move in with me. I think we should take this to the next step. Doesn’t that make you happy?”

  The silence on the other end didn’t make me happy. When she finally said something, it wasn’t exactly what I was anticipating. “Beck, baby. I’ve been a nervous wreck studying for this exam. Things are just so… I don’t know… haphazard right now. Don’t get me wrong, I love you, baby. I love you so much, but—”

  “But the fuck what? You know what forget it, Ris. Forget I said anything. You’re obviously too involved in your own shit to worry about what happens next with the two of us.” My pride was burned. Maybe it was my own insecurities biting me in the ass, but here I was giving her my whole heart, and she was consumed by her career, yet again. I know I sounded like a whiny brat, and I literally had to check inside my pants to make sure I still had a dick, but I felt wounded by her rejection. Still, it was no excuse to lash out at her for working hard at her dreams.

  Forcing myself to calm down and see things from her side, I took a different approach. “Babe, it’s my bad. I know you’re stressed and I shouldn’t have mentioned it right now. I just thought that since we’ve hardly seen each other, this would solve our problem. You could study, and even if you were locked away with your books all day, knowing we’d be sharing the same bed together every night—”

  “Beck, we need a break.”

  Two nights ago, those words shattered my dreams and now here she was trying, yet again, to make me see that it was bar over Beck.

  “You’re not being fair. You won’t give me a chance to explain. You don’t understand the pressure I’m under right now. You get mad when I can’t come over because I’m studying. I feel strangled at all ends right now. I don’t think you get how much is riding on this one test, Beck. I love you, I really do, but this is my career we’re talking about. My life.”