Stand (Southern Heartbeats Vol. 1)

by Jennifer Rebecca

  Copyright © by Jennifer Rebecca 2016 First edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying,recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Editing by Vicki Luftig Pierce

  Cover Design and Formatting by Alyssa Garcia at Uplifting Designs

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  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

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Also by Jennifer Rebecca

  Acknowledgements

  Whiskey Lullabye

  For Sean,

  Thank you for believing in me even when I don’t.

  And also, for making all of my dreams come true

  Cody

  This is it. This is that moment that changes your life. The lynch pin for the life you know you are supposed to live. This moment, this one right here, is mine.

  It’s the fourth quarter of the biggest game of the year. The biggest game of my life. This is the Super Bowl. My team and I have busted our asses for the last year to be here and we are here. We are mother fucking New York, baby.

  My parents and my girl are in the team box watching. My parents, they’re proud. I busted my ass as a kid in a small town in Texas to get to the NFL. I’m going to give my ring to my dad, the best guy I know. My girl on the other hand, she’s not proud. She gets off on being my fiancée. She’s after a different ring and I’m going to give it to her in the off season.

  So here I am running to the end zone, fourth quarter of the biggest game of my life. Timmy, our quarterback and a crazy mother fucker all around waits until the very last moment to pass the ball across the field to me.

  I leap up into the air like a mother fucking gazelle. No, they’re weak. Like a mother fucking mountain lion on the hunt for my prey. I arch back to grab the ball from the air and see all the flashes. This image. This picture of me is going to be on the front page of every paper in the morning.

  My fingers just touch the ball when I’m hit from behind by a Mack truck, or at least that’s what it feels like. When my body hits the ground, the ball is in my arms underneath me and the human truck hits me again. I will never forget the sickening crack we all heard before everything went black…

  Lights. Lights are bright. And blurry. Where the fuck am I? I blink again, trying to clear my eyes, when I see an angel. From the light up above me comes the most gorgeous girl with bright blue eyes and big, light blonde curls bundled up like my Granny’s yarn on top of her head. She smiles a toothpaste commercial smile at me.

  “Welcome back.” But that’s all I hear. Because when I try to ask my angel if I’m dead, everything goes black again. And the last thought I have is what a dumb fucking question to ask an angel. Of course I’m fucking dead. And now, now, I’m also a moron.

  When I wake up again, there’s a constant beeping that is driving me slowly insane. It’s like Beep...Beep…Beep… I open my eyes again and this time everything works. I see Kimmy and her perfectly styled red hair. Her gorgeous face marred by an ugly frown. She looks up and realizes I’m awake. I realize that I am in a hospital and that God awful beeping is my heart beating, so that’s good, right?

  “Oh, good. You’re awake,” Kimmy says coolly and I can’t help but think her first words to me should have been something along the lines of Yay!!! You’re still alive!!! But who am I to judge. “Look, your parents went to get a cup of coffee, so I’ll make this quick.”

  “Okay,” I say but it comes out garbled. Kimmy obviously needs no approval because she just keeps on keepin’ on and with the words that come out of her mouth, I think I’d rather get hit by that guy from San Diego that’s the size of an elephant again.

  “Look, it’s not you, it’s me.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “This just isn’t working out for me anymore,” she starts. “I signed on to be a football wife, not the caretaker to an invalid in Nowheresville, Texas,” I hear a gasp from the door and see my mom and dad standing there with my angel, who is apparently a nurse. A really hot fucking nurse. But I can’t care about that because this crazy person is ripping my heart out. And right in front of my mom, no less.

  “I should probably go. I’m going off shift and Jackie will be your nurse if you need anything this evening.” And with that my angel leaves me high and dry. I don’t even know her name.

  “You should probably go,” I tell Kimmy. “And you should leave your engagement ring with my mom over there,” Kimmy gasps.

  “But I love this ring! You know how much I love it,” she pleads.

  “Funny, I thought you loved me,” and with one last pleading look of her big brown eyes, she takes off my ring and stands. Kimmy walks over to my poor, sweet mom and places the ring in her up turned palm. Those eyes, they used to get me. I’d do anything to make her smile. And her puppy dog eyes got me every time. But never again. Brown, green, blue or hazel, I will never fall for another pair of lying eyes from any woman ever again.

  Angellica

  Six Months Later- NYC

  “Call it,” the ER doctor in the bay with us says, defeated. “Time of death 2307.”

  “No!” I scream. Furiously pumping my tired arms over a tiny little body in an effort to keep her heart pumping.

  “It’s over, Angie,” Dr. Smith says to me. But I just shake my head. My arms still working overtime. I know, if I just keep going, I can save this kid. I can’t lose this kid. “Clear the room,” he says to the rest of the trauma team.

  But I can’t stop. It’s like if I lose this one kid, I have lost them all. I see horrors of all kinds as a Pediatric Trauma nurse in one of the largest hospitals in New York. But this one, was different. This child was thrown from a vehicle his parents crashed after having one too many glasses of wine at dinner. This child could have been saved if they would have just taken the train. Or a cab. God knows there are tons of them here. I choke back a sob and a tear burns down my face.

  “Angie, let go,” Dr. Smith says from behind me, his hands on my shoulders.

  Dr. Smith is such a nice guy. A little older than me, wife and kids. How he balances all the bad with the good I will never know. But he is right, I need to let go. So I nod my head and let go. I decide to try his brand of balance and look for my boyfriend, Dr. Joseph Alexander, to soothe my frayed edges. Technically, he’s my boss here, but he keeps me going. He doesn’t let me falter. Doesn’t let me give up. And keeps me really fucking busy.

  I tear off my gloves and mask, tossing them in the appropriate receptacle and with one last look at Dr. Smith, I walk out of the ER bay and down the hall. I stop at the nurse’s station to see if I can find him.

  “Have you seen, Dr. Alexander?” I ask Marie, our seasoned head nurse and mom to all. She looks me hard in the eyes before seeming to come to a decision of some kind. She nods once.

  “I saw him go into the on call roo
m,” she tells me. I smile my thanks to her but she doesn’t return it for one reason or another. Weird.

  I make my way down the hall. This is right. I just need a hug from my partner in life, some reassurance, and everything will be ok. I round the corner and come up to the on call room where doctors and nurses can catch a break while on long shifts. I open the door and stop in my tracks.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I say. And fucking is definitely an appropriate choice of words because my boyfriend, Dr. Joseph Alexander, is plowing Nurse Erin from behind in a way that would make a Midwestern farm boy proud.

  “Do you mind?” She whines. Neither of them are looking to see who is watching their liaison.

  “Uhh, yeah, I fucking mind!” I shout, slamming the door open against the wall so it makes a sharp crack. Now, that, Joe notices.

  “Oh, Angie, it’s not what you think,” he says to me. I tip my head to the side trying to understand the words that are coming from his mouth as he humps the slutty nurse.

  “You want to try that again, when your dick isn’t deep in the hospital slut,” I snap. Erin growls. And that asshole is still moving his body in and out of hers. Granted it’s slower than before, but he doesn’t even have the nerve to stop after he’s been caught.

  “Actually, I’d kind of like to finish up here,” he snaps back. Erin snickers. “And I’ve been meaning to catch up with you, but I think we should open our relationship up to other people. Would you like to join us?” Umm, say what?

  How has my life gotten this crazy? How is it that I am at a juncture in my life where my exclusive boyfriend is asking me if I want to hop into a threesome with him and the bitch I just caught him cheating on me with? Yeah, buddy, I’ll get right on that. Uhhh, no. Not just no, but hell no. And also, now looking in from the outside, I can see, Joe really does have kind of a small dick. And he is probably the worst boyfriend in the history of the world. So, I do what any self-respecting woman would do. I take my phone out of my pocket and slide the little camera icon up and snap a bunch of amazingly unattractive pictures of Erin and Joe and Joe’s very tiny penis.

  “Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to be available,” I say calmly. “And I quit.”

  “Now, just a minute, you can’t quit,” Joe tells me. “This hospital needs you. I need you. Are you going to quit me too?”

  “Oh, you betcha, effective immediately,” I smile. “You should have thought about that when you started this. You know, I had come to find you because I had a really tough case and I needed to talk with my boyfriend, but more importantly, my boss, and both were unavailable.” I wave vaguely at their disgusting display. I distractedly start typing on the keyboard on my phone as I turn around and head to the nurses station. My shift is about over so I don’t feel bad about cutting out early, they’ll be fine.

  “Oh, and Joe, you might want to get that lesion on your dick looked at. It’s not looking so good,” I toss over my shoulder as I reach the door. Erin let’s out a little shriek and tries to pull away and they both fall off the cot onto the hard floor. I can’t help but laugh.

  I make my way over to the nurse’s station and sit down at one of the computers. I start with a new document and attach a picture and a handy little caption about the world’s largest dick having the smallest actual dick and to watch your backs because he’s one whoopsies away from a sexual harassment lawsuit or Venereal Disease. Whichever comes first. And then I hit print times one hundred copies.

  “You ok, hon?” Marie asks me.

  “Oh, I’m just peachy,” I say in a way she knows that I am not as I carry on with my super important, bridge burning task.

  I pick up the stapler and make sure it’s full, almost like checking the magazine on a gun. I am locked and loaded, baby. And maybe just a bit unhinged. I grab my stack of handy flyers and start stapling them up randomly all over the ER, the nurse’s station, the halls, the elevator. I even taped a bunch to the on call room. The whole time, Marie is watching me with a smirk on her face.

  “You should know, Marie, Joe and I are no longer together,” I inform her.

  “You don’t say, doll?” She says in a way I know she sees all.

  “Oh, and you should also know that I no longer work here. Effective immediately,” I tell her honestly.

  “I figured that out the minute you started typing up those pictures of your man’s teeny weenie. And by man, I also mean your boss. I’m sure I should tell you as your supervisor to take those down, but seeing as how you no longer work here, I am no longer your supervisor and am no longer inclined to offer up such advice,” she shrugs. “But as your friend, I will tell you that you were always better than him and deserve so much more. So, go down the street, get yourself a pie to go for you and Mable and enjoy your evening with your aunt. Tell her I said hello and that we can all rejoice that you’re no longer seeing that Shit for Brains. Pardon my French.” With that she give me a big hug, hands me my purse out of the bottom drawer of my desk, snatches my security badge off my hip and shoves me out into the world.

  “Oh shit,” I say when I stumble out into the cool spring air. “I have no job. Shit.” So, I do what any self-respecting woman would do. I do as I was told and I go buy Mable and I a mile high chocolate satin pie and head home to the brownstone I share with my aunt.

  It takes me two trains and a bus, plus the walk from the bus station to home. And by the time I make it to the door, the weight of the day is heavy on my shoulders. I pull my keys out of my bag, but before I can ever reach the lock, the door is thrown open and my Aunt Mable is standing there in all of her glory. And she is glorious. At only fifty years young she is short and curvy, but not in a heavy way, in a Bette Grable pinup girl way. Her blonde curls, like mine, are artfully pinned up on top of her head and her gorgeous face has just enough makeup on it to be tasteful. Wearing her signature retired style, she is in jeans and a white poplin blouse. She is beautiful, but her face is scowling.

  “Well, should we chop his dick off and cram it down his throat or rip his heart out and eat it?” She growls.

  “I take it Marie called you?” I ask blandly.

  “You know she did.” Mable says unrepentantly.

  “One of the casualties of working in the hospital your favorite aunt used to rule with an iron fist.” I smile, lean in, and kiss her cheek. “I brought pie.” I hold up the bag.

  “Yippee! Pie!” She claps. “And I’m your only aunt.” She laughs.

  “Well, you can still be my favorite.” I wink at her. And already, I’m starting to feel better. Aunt Mable has always been there for me, since the day I was born to a mother who could care less for me, and then again when my mother married a string of rich husbands, and then divorced them. And then again when she died in a plane crash last year with her last husband on some romantic trip I didn’t even know they were taking.

  “Well, I’ll just go get that bottle of scotch that idiot at the Winkler Studio sent me for the showing last month. I hear it pairs well with pie and betrayal.” Did I mention my aunt is awesome? And as part of being awesome, she’s also kind of a famous painter. I say kind of because she won’t admit to it. She says she likes what she likes, and she’ll keep doing it as long as she damn well pleases, and if people want to pay good money for it, which they do, who is she to argue with them.

  Two hours later, Aunt Mable is draped over a chase lounge like Cleopatra, but the bottle of scotch dangling from her fingertips kind of ruins the image. About two seconds after Mable offered me a highball of scotch I burst into tears and told her the whole sordid tale. At that time, she sat me down and handed me a bottle of vodka. Then Mable cut the big pie in quarters, dumped one in a bowl and handed it to me.

  Now, the pie is gone, so is most of the vodka and scotch, a third of a tube of chocolate cookie dough, and the widow maker pizza we ordered from Giuseppe’s down the block. Also, now, I feel like I’m going to puke.

  “I feel like as nurses, we should have known better and eaten a vege
table.” I tell Mable.

  “What are you talking about? The pie was dairy, the pizza had sauce and meat, and vodka is made from potatoes. You can’t ever go wrong with potatoes.” I just shrug because yeah, potatoes are delicious in all their forms. And I didn’t really want vegetables anyways.

  “So, what do I do now?” I ask. Hoping my sweet, yet crazy aunt holds the secrets to life.

  “Tall Pines.” She whispers.

  “Huh?” I ask. I am way too full and too drunk to be deciphering her own secret code of crazy.

  “Tall Pines.” She says louder.

  “As in Texas?” I ask. We went back to my mom and aunt’s hometown to deliver my mom’s ashes last year. Otherwise, it’s not a place we would just go to hang out.

  “Yes. Exactly. I was just talking to Gertie at the Cut ‘N Curl and she said Nurse Sarah died, so the school nurse job is open. You should take it.”

  “I feel like we should be more concerned about the fact that someone died.” I tell her. I feel the shock on my face and can’t even begin to try and hide it.

  “Oh, pish posh. She was one hundred and twenty if she was a day. She lived a full and loooong life. Now, let’s move to Texas.”

  “I can’t just move to Texas.” I tell her.

  “And why the hell not?” She whips back.

  “Umm…” I start.

  “You have no car,” She counts on one finger and I can’t help but agree there.

  “Umm…” But still, I have to try.

  “No house, this one is mine.” Shit. She’s got me there too. She lifts another finger.

  “Umm...” I start again.

  “No job.” She ticked off on her next finger.

  “But…” I rally.

  “And definitely no man.” Well, that was just harsh. True, but harsh. She ticks off another fucking finger.

  “Ugh. Don’t remind me.” I tell her.

  “You fell on your face, baby girl. It’s time to brush yourself off and stand back up.” She says wisely. I just groan. “So, let’s do it!” She cheers.