“Not yet, we wanted you to surprise him.”
“What are we waiting for? Someone unzip me.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Owen
I’ve been waiting for today for over a year, it just took me a little while to realize what I needed and how to get here.
As I adjust my tie in front of the mirror, Noah placing Yuri’s soother in her mouth captures my attention. She instantly stops fussing, and Noah leans forward to kiss her forehead. I’m taken back to the first time I comforted my sister in her crib.
“All set, mate?”
I twist to see Lachlan, my best man, standing in the doorway of his aunt and uncle’s guestroom.
“Almost, bro. How’s Sloane doing?”
Lachlan bends to straighten Noah’s tie and grins. “Sloane says she’s more nervous this time than the last. Something about it being more private is intimidating.”
“Women,” Noah groans, and I can’t hold in my laughter.
“And what, my sir, do you know about women?” I question my six-year-old nephew as I cross my arms.
He shrugs in response. “Nothing really. I just heard that once.”
“I don’t know much either, son. No man really does. Now, do you remember your cue?”
“When the music starts, I push Yuri down the aisle which is just the space between the chairs in the backyard. I push her all the way to the altar by the tree where Uncle Owen will be waiting for Aunt Sloane.”
“Yeah, bud, meet me at the altar, just like last time.”
Noah lowers his head. “I don’t remember last time. Maybe I was too young or something.”
Besides the confession about Drew, Noah hasn’t spoken of that day. Even when we looked through the pictures the photographer brought, he kept very silent. Perhaps he really was too young to remember. I’d rather not think of him being too traumatized to remember.
“Well, I guess we’ll have to make new memories today.”
His head lifts up, and he grins. “Okay.”
Lachlan takes his hand, and they leave the room. I trail behind, pushing Yuri in her stroller decorated with flowers and ribbons.
We were thankful when Lachlan’s aunt and uncle insisted we wed in their backyard. Sloane had mixed emotions at first, and so did I, but forgiveness is an ugly thing to hold onto. It’s meant to be given—it’s the middle of the word.
Once again, Sloane decorated the entire place, inside and out. With Immy’s help, of course.
Since Sloane gave birth to our daughter, she has cut her hours at Revamped, promoting Immy to Assistant Manager. The two girls work together really well. Their styles complement each other, and the pieces they create together are truly one of a kind.
After kissing Yuri’s cheek and patting Noah’s back, I step outside to join the minister. My heart picks up speed when I spot him at the makeshift altar by the large oak tree with hanging lanterns in the center of the yard. A few white folding chairs line either side, with small mason jars full of flowers and lights sit scattered throughout the yard.
Off to the side, a long table has been set for our reception dinner. Dozens of candles in big jars, more flowers, and napkins have been arranged perfectly. Everything has Sloane’s touch; perfection.
When Chloe, Adam and his wife, Claire and Stanton, Immy’s date Jaxson, and Sloane’s parents are seated, the music begins.
Noah comes into view, pushing Yuri gently toward me. The sight of those two together is enough to bring a man to his knees. I already know they’re going to be as thick as thieves growing up, just like Sawyer and I. When they reach me, I bend over and pick Yuri up, beaming at her. Holding my daughter, I glance up, and Sloane walks toward me.
I could marry this girl every hour for the rest of my life and it would still knock the breath out of me. She gets more beautiful every fucking day. I know our daughter will grow to look just like her mother.
When Sloane arrives next to me, she mouths a hello then kisses her girl gently on the top of her head, smoothing down her hair.
We turn to the minister and repeat the same vows we did a year ago. Only this time, I truly know the significance of them.
To have and to hold from this day forward.
For better, for worse.
For richer, for poorer.
In sickness and health.
Until death do us part.
And not even then.
We say I do, and, with our baby girl between us, I press my lips to Sloane’s.
Then I cast my gaze upward to silently thank my sister, my guardian angel, for bringing me back to this place. For talking me off the edge of gone.
TWELVE YEARS LATER…
Noah
The sun warms my face, seeping into my pores as I close my eyes, relishing the heat. I’m going to miss days like this. Cali weather is nearly eternally perfect. Aside from a few rainy days mixed in to break the temperature, you always know what to expect here. The only times I’ve been out of state were to visit long lost relatives in Australia, and, to be honest, the weather was even more perfect there.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving for college tomorrow, Noah. I’m gonna miss these drives.”
Draping my arm over my eyes as a shield from the UV rays, I peek over to my preteen cousin lying beside me on the hood of my car. The wind twists ginger hairs that have escaped her ponytail. Since the day I got my driver’s license, Yuri and I have been taking my dad’s car on random spur-of-the-moment road trips. She masters the radio, usually gushing over how cool it is that I let her listen to her pop music as loudly as she wants without telling her to turn it down. It’s our piece of freedom away from the norm.
“Yeah, I’ll miss ’em, too, Yurs. If I could take you with me, I would, but I think your parents would hunt me down and drag your butt back home.”
“Yeah, Dad’s a little overprotective with me. It’s the curse of the only girl.”
“Trust me, even if you had three little sisters instead of brothers, your dad would still be the way he is. Probably worse. He was the same with me when I was little. Still kinda is sometimes. He must have inspected every inch of this car a thousand times to make sure it’s safe for the drive tomorrow.” Uncle Owen has always been a human shield for the family. He takes all the blows when he can and will do anything for anyone of us to make sure we’re safe and happy.
Yuri sits up and slides off the hood of the car, slurping the rest of the Frappuccino we picked up from Chloe’s before hitting the back roads for a cruise. “We should probably get back. Mom will be mad if we’re not there in time for family dinner. Considering it’s the last one where the entire family will be present...”
“Enough of the guilt trip. Dad and Megan already tried to talk me into finding a school closer to home so I could still live with them and do our traditional family dinners every Friday night. To be honest, I didn’t want to move this far away from all of you. I’ve never been away from Dad for more than one night since I was five, but this school offers the best pre-med program in the country. When I applied, I didn’t even think I’d get accepted.”
“I know, Noah. I’m just teasing ’cause I’m really gonna miss having you around all the time. You go to your far-away school, become a great doctor, and come home, so you can work at the shelter with Uncle L and Aunt Megs. It will all be worth it in the end. You just better take me for drives when you come home for the holidays.”
I hug my cousin, resting my chin on the top of her head. She’s really been more of a little sister to me, and I’m going to miss her the most. “I promise.”
She shuffles a few feet to the trash can, tossing in her empty cup. We slide back into my ‘67 Buick Skylark, a graduation present from my dad. He and Great Uncle Stanton rebuilt it years ago. My grandfather had the same kind of car when he was around my age. I never got to meet him, though. Dad tells me stories and character traits about him and my grandmother once in a while when I ask questions. He never gives more details than necessary. Not like wh
en I ask questions about my mom. He doesn’t seem to stop talking when she’s the subject.
My mom’s pictures used to be everywhere in our house—the living room, the refrigerator, the walls. A few years after dad married Megan, I moved the photos to my bedroom. Megan didn’t mind having the pictures out. I know she didn’t, she’s awesome like that. The wedding photo of her and Dad sits next to a photo of my mom on Aunt Sloane and Uncle Owen’s wedding day.
Megan has never asked me to call her mom, and I never would, even though she’s my stepmother and has taken on motherly roles. It would be strange to go from Principal Ashers to Mom. I’ve always called her Megs, and she’s okay with that, just as she was cool with all the photos.
It didn’t sit well with me, though. I didn’t want to share my mom with her or anyone else anymore if that makes sense. I wanted her to myself.
I only have one vivid memory of her. Mom had wild long blonde hair that always smelled like coconut shampoo. Her scent always stuck with me. Once in a while, I’ll be walking through a store or passing a teacher in school and they’ll be wearing the perfume she used to spritz on herself. I’d freeze instantly. It’s strange what type information the brain retains. In my memory, we are at the beach. Aunt Sloane once told me my mom tried to bring me there whenever she could. One day, the air felt different, charged. I don’t think we were there long before it started raining. Mom collected our things as fast as she could, but the umbrella kept flying out of her hands before she could close it. By the time we reached shelter inside of the car, we were dripping wet. She turned to me and started giggling, swatting wet sand off of my sticky skin. Her laughter grew and echoed in the quiet space around us. If I close my eyes real tight, I can still hear her.
It’s not much of a memory, but it’s all I have, so I hold on to it tightly and pray it never fades like all of the others. I’m glad I can’t remember our last day together, though. I never could. From what I’ve heard, it wasn’t one I would want to recall anyway, so I don’t even try.
“Noah?”
I turn the volume on the radio down to hear Yuri. “What’s up?”
“Are you scared?”
“You know, I never told you this before, but last year, Mr. White assigned a project to the class. We were supposed to dig deep and uncover what scared us the most. Then write an essay about trying to conquer that fear.” It’s not only Yuri that I haven’t told this to, I haven’t spoken of this to anyone. I clear my throat to continue. “That faceless man who took my mother from me was the only terror that stood out. Without my dad’s knowledge, I contacted the state penitentiary. I wasn’t sure I could have ever brought myself to actually visit him. But, I never got to make the decision, anyway. He wasn’t an inmate any longer. He was killed. Ironic, I suppose.”
“I didn’t know any of that.”
“No one does. I didn’t inquire why or when. I just hung up the phone and realized I wasn’t afraid of anything any longer. The A+ I received on the project was a bonus.”
“You’re the strongest person I know, Noah.”
“Back at you, Yurs. Hey, do you think we have time for one quick stop before dinner?”
Yuri removes her sunglasses from her face, folding them in her hands. She gazes out of her window as my car comes to a stop. “We definitely have time.”
Along with our short road trips, another thing we’ve done often since I got my license is visit my mother’s grave. I came here often as a child. It was easier to think of her when I was here for whatever reason. I’d ask my dad to take me all the time. I can’t imagine coming here was easy for him, and I’m not sure if he came on his own even though I know he still misses her to this day. Cemeteries aren’t for everyone. It was a relief when I was able to visit her on my own. When Yuri found out I’d been coming here, she asked to tag along. She’d never met her namesake, her father’s only sibling, but I know she loved her.
Yuri sits on a bench a few feet away to give me some private time with my mom.
I wander to her spot and lower to the cool grass in front of her plaque. “I’m not going to be able to visit for a little while, Mom. I leave tomorrow for college. I wish you were here to see all the good Dad and Megs have done with the shelter. I only hope we can make it better once I’m able to be the full-time onsite physician. Weekly visits from Dr. Donovan are a great start, but we can do so much more for the girls. Everyone’s doing great. We all miss you like crazy. I felt you walk across the stage with me to receive my diploma last week. I could smell your perfume. I would never have made that walk if you didn’t sacrifice everything for me. Thank yous just aren’t strong enough for you, Mom.” I run my fingertips over her name. “I’d give anything for one more hug or to hear you laugh again.”
I rise from the grass, dusting off my pants. “I’ll have to settle for making you the proudest mom to ever watch over her child.”
Leaving a part of my heart with her, I turn and walk away with more determination than ever before to do extraordinary things with the gift she gave me.
My life.
Acknowledgements
The first thank you goes to you, the reader. Without you, this book wouldn’t exist. Well, that’s not true. It would exist, but, it wouldn’t be real. You, my reader, make the characters come alive by reading their stories and giving them purpose. Thank you for taking a chance and reading this story. If you liked it, or even if you didn’t (I hope you did!) please, please, please leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads. Reviews are tremendously important to Indie Authors.
To the supportive members of Write on Windsor, for allowing me to bring my ideas to the table, and providing enormously helpful critiques. Sorry for all my swearing!
To all of my author friends, whether you’ve help guide me through the how to’s, gave my pointers, listened while I bounced scenes off you, or provided reviews. The endless support I receive within the writing community continues to amaze me.
To my beta readers and my review group. The about of feedback you all provided turned this story from good, to great (in my humble opinion anyway). When I originally thought about having beta readers and a review group, I didn’t think anyone would want to do it. You all surprise me, you all moved me, you all taught me that there are good people in the world that simply want to help. I listened to every word, and I appreciate each one of you. Can’t wait to continue with the amazing friendships and partnerships that have developed.
To my editor Laura at Wizards in Publishing, you’ve been with me since the start of The Gone journey. You’ve polished my baby until it glistened. I look forward to doing it again with the next.
To Ashley, the best cover designer. You were super patient with my thoughts on what I wanted to cover to look like. And those thoughts were all over the place. The end resulted in perfection. You really brought Sawyer to life with the cover. Nailed it.
To my family and friends who continually share, and like, all of my social media posts, push my books on everyone they know, believe in me as an author, and believe my writing is good enough for public consumption. I love each one of you to pieces.
To Tim, my other half. You torment me out of love and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve stood by me since the beginning and always reassure me when I’m hardest on myself. Love your face.
To my littles, for trying to keep it quiet when mommies working, for thinking it’s cool that mommy writes books (yes, I’m still cool to them! I know it will change soon *insert sad face*). I’m an author, and I still cannot express how deeply I love you both.
Musical inspiration
One of my favorite things about being an author is ripping emotions right from the reader’s soul. Music does that for me when I hear a great song with an addicting beat or deep lyrics.
Here are a few songs that inspired me throughout telling Sloane and Owen’s story:
Way Down We Go by Kaleo
Angels Losing Sleep by Our Lady Peace
Lover Come Back by City and Colour
Good Grief by Bastille
We Don’t Know by The Strumbellas
2 AM by Bear Hands
River by Bishop Briggs
Trouble by Cage the Elephant
Electric Love by Borns
You Don’t Get Me High Anymore by Phantogram
Welcome to Your Life by Grouplove
Heart in Two by Rueben and The Dark
Take it All Back by Judah & the Lion
I wanna Be Your Man by Yukon Blonde
Hypnotic by Zella
Tearing Me Up by Bob Moses
Books by Jessica Gouin
Standalones
Losing Scars
All The White Lies – coming 2017
The Gone Series
Six Years Gone, book #1
Edges of Gone, book #2
Losing Scars
Chapter 1
My life was perfect until it crumbled beneath me.
I lost her.
I must have blinked, just once. Then, just like a magic trick, she vanished. Now you see her, now you don’t.
My mom’s gone.
How can she just be gone? How is it acceptable that she’s not here anymore?
When I was a little girl, I would often stare at her as she got herself ready for her nursing shifts at Evermore Bay General Hospital. My favorite uniforms she wore were always vibrant and cheerful scrubs with pictures of ducks wearing surgical masks or dramatic-shaped hearts. Her soft exterior went perfectly with her loving and warm interior.
Sometimes all I can do is reminisce of those days. If I focus hard I can smell the hairspray fragrance that lingered in the bathroom after she styled her dark-brown hair, which my sister, Skylar, and I have inherited. I can feel the way she gingerly poked the tip of my nose and giggled every time I watched her. I can hear her humming along with the country songs hummed on the kitchen radio. While I still may be able to smell, feel and hear how she used to be, I can no longer see it.
Edges of Gone (The Gone Series Book 2) Page 21