Riders on the Storm (Waiting for the Sun #2)

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Riders on the Storm (Waiting for the Sun #2) Page 29

by Robin Hill


  “Oh damn, I almost forgot.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out my father’s watch. “Thank you for this,” he says, brushing his thumb over the inscription. “It means more to me than you’ll ever know. I’ll carry it with me. Always…”

  Until heaven stops the rain

  And the sun no longer shines

  I’m gonna love you,

  Your Francesca

  “…at least until I pass it on to our firstborn son.”

  That’s going to be sooner than you think.

  Sliding my hand around the back of his neck, I bring his mouth to mine and kiss him. I kiss him like it’s our first and last kiss rolled into one. I kiss him until our lips are swollen and we’re gasping for air. I kiss my friend, my future husband, and the father of my unborn child. And only when my need to tell him overpowers this all-encompassing, heart-on-my-sleeve, to-the-ends-of-the-earth kiss, do I stop.

  Our firstborn son.

  “Yeah, about that…”

  A Feast of Friends

  Ten Years Later

  Frankie

  Our firstborn son turned out to be a little girl, and today she turns ten. I couldn’t be prouder of her. Her father spoils her, but you’d never know it. She’s bright and selfless and good.

  Which is why it shouldn’t have surprised me that when asked what she wanted to do today, she chose to come with her father to visit her sister’s grave.

  “She actually asked to come here?” Evelyn whispers beside me on the bench.

  “Her exact words were ‘am I old enough to visit my sister yet?’”

  Evelyn’s hand flies to her chest. “Oh my heart. It never even occurred to me she’d want to come.”

  “Us either. It totally caught Darian off guard,” I say, mindlessly turning my ring on my finger. “I think it’s all such a mystery to her, you know? And she’s such a daddy’s girl. God, she’s probably been waiting for this for years.”

  “She sure is something, isn’t she?” Evelyn says. “And our boy…just look at him.”

  I squeeze her hand and smile. “He’s come a long way.”

  Darian began counseling as soon as we returned to Miami, and I don’t know how he would’ve handled World Music’s aggressive marketing campaign without it. The billboards advertising Back Together: For Julia seemed to spring up overnight and were a chore to avoid. We steered clear of TV and radio—even magazines were off limits—until the season ended and the hype began to fizzle. Despite the show’s success, Darian’s former band simply couldn’t exist without him, and due to lack of ticket sales, their network-sponsored tour ended before it even began.

  “I’m really proud of you, Morrison,” I hear Darian say as he kneels in front of her.

  “Why, Dad?”

  “Because you’re growing up to be quite the young lady, and wanting to come here—on your birthday, no less—that’s just not something kids your age do.”

  “I’m ten, Dad. I’m not a baby anymore.”

  Darian smiles. “You’re only ten, and you’ll always be my baby,” he says, twirling a long blond ringlet around his finger. “Spring break’s coming up. I was thinking maybe we could go see your mermaids.

  “Yessss!” She beams at Darian and then bites her lip—the telltale sign she’s about to ask for something. “Do you think we can come here too?”

  He drops down on his heels. “You want to come back so soon?”

  “Don’t you?”

  Darian clears his throat, and both Evelyn and I spring to our feet, knowing he’s seconds away from losing it.

  “Okay, birthday girl,” Evelyn says, gathering Morrison’s thick golden blond curls in her hand. “Let’s get you buckled in so Daddy can say goodbye.”

  Darian presses a kiss to our daughter’s forehead. “Anytime,” he whispers. “I’ll bring you anytime you want.”

  I married my husband when Morrison was five years old. We didn’t intend to wait so long; it just happened that way. We were already a family, so a ceremony seemed unnecessary.

  But our friends disagreed, and on one beautiful day in June, they threw us a surprise wedding. Drew and Jane acted as best man and maid of honor. Evelyn, in addition to turning our backyard into a botanical garden, gave me away. Gloria prepared a variety of dishes that were right up my weird food fetish alley, and Amanda—yes that Amanda—made the cake. It wasn’t the beach wedding I’d envisioned, but it was perfect.

  Our nuptials weren’t the only thing that didn’t go as planned.

  We never bought the little pink house Darian mentioned that day in the storm cellar. After much consideration, we decided the best place to raise our daughter would be right here at home. There are no giant oaks in the backyard to hang a tire swing from, but Darian installed a slide on the pool and went overboard on an outdoor playset that takes up a good chunk of the yard. We were traveling so much, we never got a dog, and we decidedly have no cats.

  Evelyn was ecstatic with our decision to stay in Florida. Jane…not so much, but once Morrison was born, she visited so frequently, she fell in love with the Sunshine State and now spends her summers here—with her childhood crush, Cade Corban, of Cross to Bear fame.

  Several years ago (ten, to be exact) a personal tragedy nearly cost Cade his career, but he came back strong, both with his band and as a solo artist. Now when he isn’t touring, he’s playing house—or houses, rather—with my best friend. But that, as they say, is a story for another day.

  The patio door swings open and Morrison bolts through the kitchen with Jacob hot on her heels.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, get your butts back here,” Jane says, spinning around on her barstool. “What’s the big emergency?”

  “She has my phone!” Jacob says. “Dammit, Morrison, give it!”

  Jane’s eyes bug out of her head. “I know you didn’t just say that.”

  “Sorry, Mom.”

  “Jacob has a girlfriend,” Morrison singsongs.

  “I do not!”

  I press my lips together, trying to quell a laugh. “Morrison…”

  “Yes ma’aaammm.”

  “And take it outside, you two, before I give up on this cake and send your dad to Publix.”

  “I’ll go,” Darian says, sneaking up behind me and snaking his arms around my waist.

  “Thanks, but my baby girl wants a mermaid cake, and she’s getting a mermaid cake.”

  Even if it kills me…

  “At least take a break and have a beer with me.”

  “Um…” I tilt my head back and kiss him over my shoulder. “That sounds wonderful, but someone didn’t let me make fondant scales last night. So now I have to use frosting and”—I wave my hand in front of me—“as you can see, it’s not going so well.”

  “You know I love you, but cakes aren’t really your forte. Maybe you should wait for Amanda. The yard looks fantastic, though,” he adds quickly. “Love what you did with the decorations.”

  Amanda discovered there was more to Austin than the Texas stereotypes she’d devised in her head, namely the live music scene Mike was so fond of when they first arrived. She now lives there permanently, and in her spare time, she bakes.

  “I would wait for Amanda, but their flight just landed. And FYI, Amanda only works with fondant.”

  Darian’s lips find my ear. “Sorry, babe,” he whispers. “Morrison was at Grandma’s, and you know I can’t resist you when you’re covered in flour.”

  “Eww,” Jane says from across the island. “I can hear you.”

  I sigh. “It’s not your fault. I’m a big girl. I could’ve rejected your advances.”

  “Please, woman. You’ve never been able to reject my advances.” He grabs the half-naked Barbie off the counter and shakes her in front of me as if she’s speaking. “Fondant’s gross, by the way,” he says in falsetto.

  “Hey! Hands off my mermaid.”

  His knuckles brush my hip as he returns the doll. “You’re the
best mom in the world, you know that?”

  “The best mom in the world would have sent you to Evelyn’s last night and stayed home to make scales like she was supposed to,” I tell him.

  “Point taken,” he says, bending to kiss my cheek before turning toward the patio. “Burgers are ready. Can I get you lovely ladies anything before I feed the kids?”

  “I’ll take a lemonade.”

  “Lemonade?” Jane scoffs. “Are we not drinking because of Amanda?”

  “You can.” I gesture to the cake. “This is hard enough sober.”

  “Never mind,” she says, sulking. “I have to drive to the condo tonight anyway.”

  Darian nods. “Two lemonades coming up.”

  The door closes behind him and Jane hops down from her barstool.

  “Cade isn’t coming.” A frown pulls at her mouth as she rounds the island. “He missed his flight.”

  “Jane, that sucks. Is he still in Vegas?”

  She passes me the blue icing. “Yeah, but it’s fine. At least I have you.”

  “At least.” I give her a smirk, but my heart aches for my best friend. “You have me whether you want me or not.”

  “Oh, Frankie,” she says with a sigh as she rests her chin on my shoulder. “Shouldn’t the doll have gone in first?”

  “Shit.”

  “If y’all don’t hurry up and feed me, I’m coming for the cake,” Amanda calls from the patio.

  A laugh bursts from my throat. “I will never get used to that.”

  “I know, right?” Jane grins. “Amanda says y’all now. We don’t even say y’all.”

  “You guys coming?” Drew asks, poking his head inside the kitchen. “Pregnant Amanda is way scarier than normal Amanda.” He juts his chin at Jane. “I saved you a spot between us.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Drew and Jane hit it off when they met on my twenty-second birthday and, after a little meddling on my part, had a brief (but mildly disastrous) romance. Long term was never Drew’s thing, and long distance was never Jane’s—a problem if you happen to fall for a rock star.

  Darian plates the food while the rest of us gather around the table, taking silent bets on how long it’ll be before Amanda goes after the rolls.

  “Y’all leave my girl alone,” Mike says, exaggerating the word as he drapes his arm across the back of her chair. “She’s eating for three.”

  “Oh my God, congrats!” The news causes my belly to flutter. “Twins? Really?”

  Amanda beams. “Can you believe it?” she says, then shoots Darian a glare. “And I would be eating for three if someone would hurry up.”

  Gloria holds out her hand as Drew pulls a twenty from his wallet and gives it to her. “Gemelos,” she says with a giggle. “Twins. I told you, mijo. Miss Gloria knows these things.”

  Jane nudges my arm. “Did you know we could make side bets?”

  “Okay, guys, listen up,” Darian says as he sets down a platter of steaks. “Dinner is served. Does everyone have what they need?”

  Evelyn, who’s been unusually quiet, stands beside him and taps her glass with her fork. “Wait. Before we begin, I’d like to say something—a toast of sorts.”

  Darian sits and the noise settles as we give her our attention.

  “It’s no secret I’m not a religious woman,” she says candidly. “I didn’t even believe in a higher power until I lost my family, and that was only because I needed someone to blame.” She glances around the table, her gaze settling on each of us. “Well, now I need someone to thank, and I think maybe, so do you.”

  She raises her glass. “Regardless of who or what you believe in, be it God, the universe…Jediism”—she grins—“be grateful. We are a family of friends, and this,” she says with a wink for me, “is a feast of friends. To us. Because we are all so lucky.”

  Glasses clink, and Darian clears his throat. “That was beautiful, Mom.”

  Evelyn kisses the top of his head. “Give an old lady tequila and she’ll get sappy. Everyone dig in.”

  “I swear Morrison likes Jane more than me,” I say as we load the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. “It’s always ‘Aunt Jane this’ and ‘Aunt Jane that.’” I wave my hand in the air at the music filling the kitchen. “She even hates The Doors because Aunt Jane does.”

  Darian smiles. “I love that they’re so close. Neither of us had that growing up.”

  “I know, and I’m kidding…but we were supposed to roast marshmallows!” I feign a pout. “You realize I’ll be a mess when she goes off to college.”

  “We could sabotage her grades,” he says, waggling his brows.

  “That’s the sexiest thing you’ve said to me all night.”

  “Really? I thought it was ‘I’ll wash, you dry.’” He wipes down the counter and hangs the dishcloth over the faucet. “Just because Morrison isn’t here doesn’t mean we can’t roast marshmallows.”

  I laugh. “I’m onto you, buddy. You didn’t just give Morrison permission to go with Jane, you orchestrated it, didn’t you?”

  He cages me against the sink. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Once the kitchen’s clean, I change into a tank and the much newer pair of monkey print pajama pants Darian bought me when I let him burn the originals. Then I meet him in the courtyard with a bag of marshmallows and two wire hangers. He’s stoking the fire that’s holding its own against the breeze which always seems to find its way inside the four walls of our outdoor room.

  “What’d you think of Mom’s toast?” he asks, giving the fire one last prod before returning the poker to its holder.

  “I loved it. Especially the part where you got choked up at the mention of Jediism.”

  He laughs and takes a seat on the sofa. “Jediism is powerful stuff.”

  “Speaking of powerful stuff,” I say, raising my brows, “I heard you tell Morrison we’d take her to the mermaid park during spring break.” I set the marshmallows and hangers on the coffee table and turn a smirk toward him. “What was it you said last week? ‘I’m not spending two hundred dollars to watch a bunch of synchronized swimmers—’”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

  I wiggle my pinky at him. “Wrapped around her little finger.”

  “What can I say?” he asks, reaching for me. “She’s got her mother’s irresistible charm.”

  I straddle his lap and wreath my arms around his neck. “I think it’s great. It reminds me of the relationship I had with my dad.” A smile warms my face. “He hosted a lot of tea parties in his day.”

  “See? Irresistible.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’d like to go for the week, maybe swing by Disney World,” he says, grinning. “What’s your schedule look like? Obviously, I’m free.”

  Darian still has the label and I still have my party planning business, though neither of us is very hands-on anymore. Having Morrison changed our priorities.

  Shortly after she was born, I sold the Party in a Box brand to one of my retailers. Now my sole focus is my niche online consulting company, and I work as much or as little as I want.

  It’s the same for Darian. Having two offices with two COOs freed him up to pursue the part of the business he loves the most—the music. His main role in the company now is scouting for new talent, and to everyone’s surprise, he even performs occasionally. Nothing big, just small venues around town. I say nothing big, but to Evelyn and me, it’s everything.

  “‘Swing by Disney World’?” I laugh. “She is sooo spoiled. I’m free through Easter,” I say. “But what about counseling? Don’t you have your appointment with Dr. Craig that week?”

  “It’s on Monday. Figured we could head out on Tuesday.” His arms close around my waist. “Will you go with me?”

  “To your appointment? I haven’t been to one in years. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s great. I don’t go as often as I used to, and with the twentieth anniversary co
ming up, I want us to be prepared. That’s all.”

  Leaning back on his lap, I study the face of the man I’ll spend the rest of my life loving. Every earned wrinkle, every laugh line, makes him even more beautiful to me than he was the day we met. His olive eyes shine brighter now, and his smile never wanes, nor does the dimple that was once so rare.

  My heart melts. He really has come so far. Despite everything life’s thrown at him, he’s finally happy. He’s happy again.

  “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he asks, his brows pulling together in question.

  “Nothing, I’m just…I’m proud of you.”

  “I’m proud of us both.” He grins, causing his dimple to wink. “Now if only Morrison made us proud.”

  “Oh, I know. Terrible, terrible child. Mermaids, really? Where did that even come from?”

  “And always with the perfect manners and straight As. So predictable,” Darian says and rolls his eyes.

  “What are you gonna do?”

  “Some parents try again. You know, when their first child is such a disappointment.”

  I smile. “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, I mean…we aren’t traveling as much as we used to, and I don’t know, I was kind of thinking…”

  “Darian Fox, are Amanda’s twins giving you baby fever?”

  “Maybe a little.” He shrugs. “Maybe it’s time I knock you up again.” His hands glide up and down my arms. “It’s been just the three of us forever, and I’ve loved every second of it. But I once promised you nothing short of a soccer team. I’m not saying I want a soccer team, but maybe…”

  “I think it was a reality show.”

  He scrunches up his face. “Yeah, but all the cameras…”

  “I love you,” I say.

  “I love you too.”

  “Evelyn’s right; we are so lucky.” I lean forward and brush my nose against his. “And I’d like nothing more than to get naked and let you impregnate me right here under the stars, but you’re too late.”

  Darian’s brows rocket to his graying hairline. “Too late? What do you mean too late?” You’re barely in your thirties. Amanda’s in her forties! I know I’m no spring chicken, but—”

 

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