by Monica James
“Goodnight, Saxon,” I say once I realize I’m absentmindedly staring at him.
I have no doubt he knows every second thought of mine is comparing him to Samuel, but he doesn’t say a word. “Night, Lucy. Thanks again for letting me stay.”
He doesn’t realize I’m the one who should be thanking him.
When he pulls back the corner of the covers, I take that as my cue to leave. I shut the door, smiling when I hear him talking to Thunder.
The scalding shower is utter heaven, and when I turn off the faucets, I’m so ready for bed. Once I brush my teeth and run a comb through my wet hair, I pad into my bedroom, but abruptly pause in the doorway. Feelings of nostalgia hit me and I frown, saddened that once again I won’t be sleeping beside Samuel.
The fact Saxon is sleeping two doors down makes me feel a touch better, and I close the door behind me, reassured. I slip under the covers, my eyes heavy with sleep as I turn to rest on my side. As I reach out to switch off the light, my leather-bound journals, which sit in a box near my bedside dresser, catch my eye.
I started keeping journals the moment I could read and write, and I’ve retained every single one since. Writing everything down was my form of therapy, my way of dealing with who I was. Some journal entries are too painful to read, detailing the horrific start I had in life, but most detail every happy moment I’ve shared with the people I love. Most entries are about Samuel, which is why they’re sitting in my room.
I’m so afraid that as time goes on without any improvement, I’ll forget my memories as they’ll be plagued down with a horrible, pain riddled reality. I’m afraid I’ll forget Samuel’s uplifting smile, contagious laugh, and his generous heart. But most importantly, I’m afraid I’ll forget how he made me feel time and time again. I’m afraid I’ll forget what it felt like to be connected to another person in a way that shadows any memories I’ve ever made.
Tears stain the pillow as I reach down and rummage through my box of memories—the only things I have left of Samuel. I run my fingertips over the leather journal I seek before opening it up to a page I’ve read many times before.
* * * * *
December24th/25th 2011
Dear diary,
As I write this, the biggest smile is plastered on my face and I doubt it’ll fade any time soon.
Christmas time has always been a special time for me. It was the time I became a Tucker, and as fate would have it, it’ll now be the time I was asked to become a Stone.
Magic is truly in the air—I can almost touch it. My Christmas angel is sleeping soundly beside me, exhausted after a day that can only be described as magical.
It began with breakfast in bed, my favorite of buttermilk pancakes and strawberries. Once I was done stuffing my face, Sam and I went into town to finish off our Christmas shopping. Much to Sam’s dismay, I got Saxon a small gift. Even though Sam hasn’t spoken to him in months, I still want to show him that we care. Christmas is about giving and family. I don’t think he’ll be at our Christmas family meal tomorrow, but regardless, I’ll send it if I have to.
Once we were done shopping, Samuel insisted I get a massage as he had a few things to take care of. Thinking back, I should have known he was up to something, but at the time, I was too excited at the chance of being pampered for an hour.
I floated out of the day spa, my body feeling so relaxed and my mind at peace. Once we arrived home, I told Sam I was going to take a nap. It was Christmas Eve and we didn’t have any plans—well, none that I knew of. He kissed me on the forehead and said he’d wake me when dinner was ready. I fell into a deep slumber, only waking when the delicious smell of lemon chicken drifted up the stairs.
It was dark out, the full moon shimmering off the white blanket of snow which coated our entire yard. I stood in front of our bay windows for minutes, reflecting on my good fortune. Not a minute goes by where I don’t appreciate what I’ve got, and who I’ve got. I’m surrounded by so many good people, people I love. And the one I love the most was spoiling me rotten when I smelled spring rolls.
I bounced into the kitchen to see Samuel pouring us two glasses of white wine. A feast was laid out on our marbled kitchen counter. My stomach rumbled in delight.
After we were done eating enough food to feed a small starving nation, we decided to sit in front of the fire and watch a DVD. Samuel let me choose the movie, which again, I should have guessed he was up to something. But I didn’t.
My eyes grew heavy halfway through “Pretty In Pink,” and before I knew it, I had passed out, using Sam as my cushion. I woke to soft butterfly kisses all over my face, then one big lick. No guessing who the lick was from.
Reaching down, I patted Thunder, burying my fingers into his soft mane. As I stroked his fluff, my fingers passed over his collar, feeling something dangling from it. I didn’t recall seeing anything different, so I pried open my eyes, the orange hue from the fire warming me instantly. When Thunder saw I was awake, he jumped on me, giving my face another lick, and it was then that I saw what was hanging from his collar.
A ring.
The flames echoed off the flawless contours, shooting sparkles across the room. Samuel gently unfastened the string from Thunder’s collar while I watched, eyes wide. He offered me his hand and I accepted, slipping my trembling fingers into his. I sat, speechless, waiting for what came next.
He gulped, and I could tell he was so nervous, but he squeezed my fingers and smiled. “I had this long speech planned out about how you make me feel, but nothing was good enough. No words strung together could ever convey how you make me feel.”
When he got up and then sunk to one knee, I allowed the floodgates to open and I cried happy tears.
“I love you, Lucy Tucker, so very much. Will you marry me?”
My heart soared and my body sang, it was by far the best moment of my life. “Yes,” I sobbed. “I’ll marry you, Sam.”
If I’ve ever seen Sam happier, then I can’t remember when. He slipped the ring on my finger, tears pricking his eyes. He scooped me up into his arms, kissing me passionately, taking my breath away.
I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his nape, never wanting to let go.
We made love in front of the fire, our bodies frantic, our love frenzied. When we lay naked, sated and content, I placed my hand out in front of me, admiring my ring and all that it represents. I couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Samuel Stone.
Sam nuzzled my hair, kissing me softly on the neck. “Merry Christmas.” Our grandfather clock chimed on the hour, revealing that it was indeed Christmas.
Turning to look at my fiancé (yes, fiancé!), I smiled. “Best Christmas present. Ever.”
Samuel’s expression turned bold as he rolled on top of me, slipping a hand between us, coming to rest at the junction between my legs. “Babe, I haven’t even begun.” He emphasized his point by running his finger up and down my needy opening.
When he slid down my body, using his tongue as his guide, I closed my eyes, appreciating that I must have been a very good girl this year as Santa brought me everything I wished for...and more.
Six
The next day, Saxon and I are sitting by Samuel’s bed, arguing over who would win in a fight between Batman and Superman. I’m rooting for Batman, but Saxon is detailing all the reasons why I’m wrong. The conversation is beyond ridiculous, but it’s a nice change from sitting around and waiting, wondering if today is the day Sam might open his eyes.
“I cannot believe you’re rooting for Batman,” Saxon scoffs, leaning back in the plastic seat as he links his hands behind his head. His bulging biceps rival his hero. “Superman would win, hands down. The laser beams he shoots from his eyes would fry Batman in seconds.”
I stifle a laugh behind my hand. I can’t believe how passionate Saxon is about this. “Fine, Superman’s inhuman powers are impressive. But…” I emphasize, hushing his rebuke as I raise my finger. “Batman is far more intelligent and cunning than Superman. He would invent some kind of
kryptonite gadget and then it’s bye-bye, Superman.”
Saxon folds his arms over his broad chest, the bright lights emphasizing his ink. “We seem to be caught in a deadlock. The only way to remedy this is to watch every Batman and Superman movie ever made, read their comics, and then have this discussion once again.”
I nod eagerly, as this means Saxon will have to spend more time defending Superman’s title.
Last night was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in days. I know it was a false sense of security, but it felt nice having Saxon there. I woke, afraid my house was empty, but the smell of coffee alerted me that Saxon was still there.
We rode in together in my Jeep, as I wanted to ensure Saxon left his bike at home so he couldn’t sneak off undetected. I know I’m being selfish, but I can’t help it. I meant it when I said he makes everything better.
“Sam’s idiocy must be rubbing off on you,” Saxon says, snapping my thoughts to the present. When I cock an eyebrow, he smirks. “Sam would always side with Batman. It’s a fight that’s still ongoing.”
His comment has me wondering what went wrong between them. Sam never divulged why they never got along, and I didn’t press. I could see how much it hurt him, so I let it be. Even when we were kids, Saxon made himself scarce. Whenever I came in the front door, I could put money on the fact that Saxon was leaving via the backdoor. I always thought he hated me because he was jealous that Sam was spending so much time with me. But now, I’m not so sure.
After yesterday, could it be Saxon felt Samuel was the favored child? Kellie didn’t hide her favoritism and made it more than obvious she was happy to see Saxon only because he was here to help Sam.
My curiosity gets the better of me. “Did you hate me?”
Saxon chokes on his Coke, mid-sip. He thumps on his chest, coughing.
I probably should have led in with something a little more subtle, but time is precious. Samuel lying in that hospital bed is proof of that.
“Did I hate you?” he repeats when he can breathe again. I nod. “What kind of question is that?”
“An honest one?” I offer with a shrug.
He seems to weigh up his response before replying, “No, Lucy, I didn’t hate you.”
“Then why did you practically run towards an exit whenever I entered the room?”
His smirk lights up his face. “I hardly ran.”
“Okay, walked briskly then,” I amend, smiling.
He runs a hand through his hair, leaving behind a mussed, but stylish mess. “I guess I didn’t want to be the third wheel. Sam made it clear you were his girl and that he didn’t want his older brother cramping his style.”
“You’re older by two minutes,” I state, rolling my eyes playfully. I don’t buy his excuse, however. “Did Sam tell you that? That he wanted you gone whenever I was around?” I don’t keep the surprise from my voice, as Sam always hinted Saxon kept away by his own will, not because Samuel asked him to.
Saxon pins me with those sea green eyes and I suddenly feel hot. “No, he didn’t, but I knew.” When he lowers his gaze, I know he’s not telling me something. He reveals what a second later. “One of the joys of being a twin is that most of the time, you know what the other is feeling, thinking, wanting, without speaking a word. I’m linked to someone who shares my DNA; I’m bound to share his thoughts, whether I like it or not.”
His comment has me leaning forward, sitting on the edge of my seat. “Did you know something happened to Sam before I called you?”
He exhales deeply, tonguing over the jagged scar on his lip. “I think so.”
I was right. If anyone can drag Sam from this coma, it’s Saxon. Excitement bubbles in my belly. “Can you feel him now?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound bat shit crazy.
That excitement gets shot to hell however when he frowns. “It doesn’t work that way, Lucy.”
He’s stalling and I know why. “Don’t bullshit me, Saxon. Just tell me the truth. I can handle it.”
I really wish I’d kept my mouth shut. He senses my resolve and sighs. “No, I can’t feel anything. It’s…quiet. It’s the strangest, most disconcerting feeling. I’ve never felt this before. No matter how many miles apart we were, I could always feel him. But now, I feel nothing.”
I’m trying my hardest to hold back my tears, but one betrays me and sneaks past my walls. I quickly wipe it away.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m probably wrong, anyway. It’s not like I can read his mind.”
“You haven’t upset me,” I correct. “You’re the only person who has given me an answer I understand. The doctors keep treading lightly around me, telling me these things take time, but I can see it in their eyes. I know they believe his chances aren’t good. And deep down, so do I.” Looking down at my engagement ring, I can’t help but feel cheated.
“Hey, don’t talk like that.” The seat creaks as he rises and walks over to me. He crouches down in front of me when I lower my eyes. “I believe that Samuel will wake up. He’s too stubborn not to. You’ve just got to have faith.”
When he kindly strokes over my thigh, I glance up, taken aback that Saxon is so…nice. I never doubted that he was nice; I just never realized he was so…intuitive. “You’re a good guy, Saxon.”
He grins, a dimple hugging his left cheek. “Depends on who you talk to.”
No guessing who.
His hand is still on my leg, stroking me, and it feels nice. Comforting.
“Saxon?” a stunned voice sounds from the doorway. It appears he has that reaction on everyone.
Piper doesn’t hide her shock to see him crouched by my feet, stroking my leg. She’s met the Saxon we thought we knew, and that Saxon wouldn’t be consoling me, telling me to have faith.
He quickly removes his hand and turns his head towards the door. It takes him a second, but he remembers my best friend. “Hey…Piper.” He stands, his towering height dwarfing mine.
“Hey yourself,” she replies, making no secret she’s checking him out. Piper had a major crush on Saxon when we were growing up, but he either didn’t notice, or he simply didn’t care.
I too rise, rolling my eyes at my friend’s lack of shame. “Did you bring me something good to eat?” I ask, peering at the brown paper bag she holds.
Her gaze is still entwined with Saxon’s as she replies, “Ah, yeah. I got you some bear claws, donuts, and other unhealthy, sugar-filled goodies.” She tosses the bag my way, not caring if I catch it or not.
As strange as this sounds, Piper making puppy dog eyes at Saxon makes me feel a touch better. I’ve been surrounded by tears and gloom all week; it’s nice to have some normality. If what Saxon says is true, I’ll be here for the long haul. To avoid being admitted into the bed beside Samuel, I’ve got to stay connected to the real world and not lose my grip on reality. And at the moment, my reality is my best friend brazenly flirting.
When we were younger, she said it was her dream to marry Saxon because a) he was gorgeous and b) it would make us sister-in-laws. Looks like she’s still dreaming.
“How long are you staying?” Piper asks, subtly pulling out her messy pigtails.
Saxon looks over at me briefly while I hold my breath. “I’m not too sure. I’ll probably head back in a couple of days.”
Couple of days? I hide my disappointment by sticking my head in the bag and retrieving the biggest bear claw in there.
“Where are you staying?”
“Um, with Lucy,” he uncomfortably replies.
I tear into the sweet pastry, wondering why staying with me would make him feel uneasy.
“Oh, cool. Maybe I’ll swing by one night.”
Piper better make it one night soon, seeing as Saxon has no intention of staying. I can’t believe he’s actually leaving. After my confession yesterday, I thought he’d at least stay a week, maybe two. But it appears I was wrong about him. He doesn’t care.
As I shovel half the claw into my mouth, I almost
gag on it when Kellie and Gregory stroll through the door. Neither hide their surprise at seeing Saxon.
Kellie brushes past Saxon and Piper and gives me a big hug. My cheeks are puffed out as I try and swallow down my mouthful of food. “How is he?” she asks, rubbing my back.
I don’t know why but once again, Kellie is grating on my nerves. Her soft, sorrow-filled tone reminds me where I am, and that Sam’s progress is still nada. Of course I’ll never forget, but being reminded 24/7 makes everything so much harder to digest.
“No change, Kellie,” I reply into her shoulder once I’ve finished chewing. She lets out a strangled sob.
I subtly pull out of her grip, my gaze fixing on Sam. His strong jaw line is coated with a dark, five o’clock shadow, which is quite unusual for him, seeing as he’s almost always clean shaven. I know it’s only been a few days, but his face looks thinner, and his skin has a waxen, lifeless appearance. I don’t want to admit it, but before long, I know he’ll begin deteriorating before my eyes. My strong Sam will be a shell of who he once was.
These thoughts are giving me emotional whiplash, and I don’t know how much longer I can deal.
“Would it hurt you to shave, Saxon? And get a haircut,” Kellie says, tsking while attempting to comb a hand through his hair. He dodges her attempts to groom him. “I won’t even touch on the subject of your clothes. Or tattoos.”
Looking at his ripped blue jeans, motorcycle boots, and dark gray t-shirt, I think he looks fine. Sam was a little more conservative, nothing ripped and mostly button down shirts rather than t-shirts, but Kellie can’t expect Saxon to be his doppelganger.
“How long will you be staying, son?” Greg asks, walking over to Sam’s bed.
The dreaded question has me wishing for another bear claw.
“I’m not sure. I’ll probably split tomorrow.”