Make Me Stay: A Second Chance Romance

by Amarie Avant

  She pressed at his chest. “Ha, I’ll just take ‘I love you, Avery.’ ‘Thank you very much.’ ”

  An untouchable aura surrounded them as they walked out of the restroom. At their table, the rest of their food had been placed in to-go boxes with the final tab, implying they needed to pay and go. Avery continued to smile as Donavan pulled out enough cash and grabbed the bag. Her arm linked through his as they headed toward the exit.

  “Avery. Avery?” A feminine voice called after them. Donavan turned around first to see a black woman with dreadlocks in a business suit. When Avery turned around, her body stiffened against his.

  “Who are you?” Donavan subconsciously took a few steps in front of Avery.

  “You’re the infamous Donnie Hardy?” Dr. Blaine, Avery’s old obstetrician, guessed.

  “Mary,” Avery gulped. She placed her hand on Donavan’s large bicep to ease the tension. “Um, Doctor Blaine . . .”

  “Mary is fine, Avery, always fine.” The older woman offered a smile.

  Avery glanced back and forth between the two. “Donavan, this is the doctor, who helped me through labor. Mary even came to visit me a few times . . . after.”

  “Oh, excuse me for . . .” Donavan gestured to how he overreacted. Doctor Blaine smiled as they shook hands. “I owe you a great deal. Thank you for being there for her.”

  The doctor sighed deeply. “Avery just about broke my heart.”

  Avery offered somewhat of a grimaced smile. “I’m sorry for pushing you away.”

  “No, no, Avery. I can’t fathom what you went through. And your time at Sunnymead, it was a tough time for you.”

  “Sunnymead?” Donavan arched an eyebrow. The color drained from Avery’s face as he posed the question to her. “What’s Sunnymead?”

  Of all the shame she’d endured, the one caveat about ending up in the crazy house was that it was behind her. She had no intention of ever telling Donavan.

  Divulging the truth to Salvador and Antonio had been different. Somehow, being so transparent with those two in the past hadn’t scared her as bad. And with her brother, Antonio was only disappointed that she’d endured so much alone.

  But Donnie was her heart.

  “I’ll let the two of you talk,” Doctor Blaine said, she addressed Avery. An apology was written all over her face. “Please call me sometime soon. Again, seeing you happy, it just brightened up my day.”

  Avery gave her a stiff hug. It was all she could do to suggest that she wasn’t angry for Dr. Blaine’s spilling the beans. She watched the doctor head back into the restaurant while feeling Donavan’s gaze on her.

  Knowing he’d badger her forever about it, and due to him telling her all the crap he went through in the army, Avery quickly stated, “Sunnymead is a psychiatric facility, Donnie. And it’s a place we won’t be talking about.”

  She was on the move, but Donavan cut her off while stepping in her path.

  “You went to Sunnymead, that’s okay.” The sun highlighted his wavy hair as he glanced down at her. “But I’ll tell you what’s not okay, you, shrugging me off.”

  Avery placed her hands over her face. Her voice was muffled. “I won’t talk about it.”

  He pressed his hand against her chest. She moved her own hands, blocking her vision to swat at him. This time, Donavan quickly signed and spoke. “I caused this pain. And it is a conversation we have to have some time, AC. I love you enough to tell you the bullshit I caused while you were away. I caused this pain.” Again, he placed his hand against her heart. “I can’t rectify what I’m not aware of.”

  She pulled out her phone. He grabbed it.

  “Avery, we’re having a conversation.”

  “My two-fifteen is impatient, Donnie. I have to go.”

  ~~~

  Later that evening, Avery ended up at her childhood home. She sat in the lofty living room, rubbing her hand over the ivory keys of her grand piano. The lesson she gave about an hour ago went well. The young girl Avery tutored was conveniently the same age Avery was when meeting Donavan for the first time. And the kid had an unmatched talent. With the prized Wurlitzer Baby Grand Piano adorning the family’s entertainment room, it was to be expected that she was flawless. But the girl was simply—flawless.

  Now, with Avery angry as hell at Donavan for wanting to talk about Sunnymead like it was okay, she wasn’t in a hurry to head home. The place was the Four Seasons for schizos for goodness sake, and she didn’t feel like digging deep and chatting him up about it.

  “My baby dies, and I end up in a straitjacket,” she scoffed, disappointed in herself.

  Avery began to stroke the keys of her piano, imagining her son at seven years old. Imagining the happy family that she and Donavan were meant to be. Her eyes closed, prompting her to feel the music.

  A gentle breeze from the sliding glass doors behind her caused a chill to her cheeks. Avery realized she’d been crying streams of tears when she opened her eyes. Antonio was leaning on his elbow across from her. He broke out in applause.

  “Alicia, girl,” he said, “Alicia Keys, lemme have your autograph.”

  Her gaze blurred with more tears, and Avery laughed while wiping them away with the back of her hand. She never realized before how perfect of a little brother she had. Avery assumed his easy demeanor came from all those times she and Donavan chose to include and not ditch his ass when they were wild, young teens.

  “Oh, stop playing, Antonio. And how long have you been standing here?”

  “No, seriously.” He jiggled his cell phone in his hands. “But I recorded about two minutes.”

  She reached over, but he held the phone just outside of her grasp.

  “Don’t even insult me, AC. I’m too fast for you. Now, we have to pick up the tempo a little bit. We wanna gun for Adele, but let’s try to switch it up some, let’s do a G.”

  Avery shook her head. Her brother wasn’t well versed on notes. She corrected him. “That’s a C Major, good.”

  “Hey, I’m not studying music theory.”

  Antonio sat down next to her. She strummed the notes while explaining the pitch when Antonio took over. He had so much confidence with “March the Nutcracker,” which was a relatively easy score. Avery transitioned to the melody she’d created with Antonio struggling to follow. They played for a few minutes with Avery asking him how he learned.

  “I’m a hustler, big sis. In this game, you have to learn from watching.”

  She bumped elbows with him. “You are adorable, Antonio, you know that. Now, I need a pen and a pad. ASAP.”

  He arose from the bench. “Okay, but me playing butler is gonna cost you. If this tune sells, I want a cut.”

  “This is just for me, Antonio,” she called after him. He flicked his hand as he continued to walk away.

  For the next hour or so, Avery and Antonio sat at the piano as she created a composition, erasing what Antonio said wasn’t in style and changing a few chords. At first, she was avoiding returning home to Donavan, but with the fun they were having, she no longer cried while composing a song for the two loves of her lives, Donavan and Donnie Junior.

  The maid caught her eye and invited her to dinner during their progression. She’d quickly messaged Donavan to join them, and they went back to work.

  CHAPTER 34

  Donavan

  He felt like a chump googling Sunnymead Resort while packing his boxes at the house he rented. Donavan and Avery had agreed that moving into the guesthouse would further cut expenses and allot more money to the Baudelaire mansion. He hadn’t thought about how to squeeze in the money that Palmer planned to give him after his assignment tomorrow. And now, as he was packing up stuff, tossing things around, his mind was consumed with the fact that Avery’s life had sucked as much as his had while he was away.

  Gripping the nickel handle of his top dresser drawer, he pulled the entire thing out and dumped the contents into a cardboard box.

  Don’t get angry. It was a promise that Donavan made to Avery
, one that he intended to keep. But as he finished dumping his stuff in the box, Donavan tossed the dresser drawer across the room. The damn thing was no more than a cheap wooden crate as it broke into its standard A-B-C pieces. He glared at the broken stucco on the wall.

  “So much for the fucking deposit!” He shouted, imagining Avery as stubborn as she was at the psychiatric facility, angry at the world. Though she’d mentioned her depression after the baby died, he hadn’t expected her to have gone it alone. She and Verdrena had always been so close. He was fifteen when Verdie pulled him aside and offered him condoms. And I made promises! He growled to himself for letting Avery go.

  He had every reason under the sky to stay. Avery had been his life source from the first day he broke her heart. In anger, Donavan’s boot slammed into the side of the cardboard box. “All I ever did was break her heart!”

  He sunk down to the floor, sitting with his legs wide. Tugging at the thick curls on top of his head, Donavan determined he was no less than a dick.

  He pulled out his cell phone and started to write a text message. It was dumb, and a habit he had over the years. Writing text messages to Avery’s old iPhone 4. He’d never send them through, just clear them all out. It started with poetry when they were even younger. He’d text the mushiest thing that popped into his mind after getting suspended from school or kicked out of class, and Avery would calm him down.

  But after unknowingly ditching Avery while she was pregnant, he couldn’t stop himself from writing a message, even if it was useless. His contacts always forwarded to a new phone when he’d purchased a new phone over the years, so Donavan clicked onto Avery’s old contact info and started a message.

  DONAVAN: I don’t have a way with words, AC. But the one thing that I know, out of all the shit the world dishes out, you are my heart.

  DONAVAN: Though I haven’t done much to deserve you over the past…

  DONAVAN: probably nowhere near as much as the dude you just screwed things up with…

  He paused as a fragment of a smile broke through the disappointment and rage he felt for himself. Damn, he couldn’t imagine winning her back from someone who’d met her father’s standards. If any man in the world was capable of securing Alexander’s agreement, it sure as shit wouldn’t be Donavan Hardy.

  “But I promise, AC, for the rest of your life, the only tears you know will be happy.” He mumbled. “Yeah, I can do that.” He started to clear out the text message when a call came through. It was Palmer.

  “Donnie, I need you in action first thing tomorrow.”

  “What?” Donavan stood up.

  Paranoid about recorded calls, Palmer was cryptic in his response, “The plans have changed. Come see me now, or I have to take back your engagement gift.”

  “But I need it,” Donavan gritted out.

  “Then I guess you’ll come see me now.”

  “Yup.” Donavan’s eyes closed after he clicked the off button. He clicked on the message for AC and typed a quick text.

  DONAVAN: Stay at your parents tonight.

  DONAVAN: NOT Baudelaire home.

  DONAVAN: I’ll be home by tomorrow night. Love you.

  ~~~

  It was dark by the time Donavan made it to the Palmer compound. He slammed the door to his Silverado and started for the farmhouse when Palmer came outside in khaki shorts in and a polo. Palmer handed over a duffle bag while saying, “Governor Sneed always sees his bitch for the entire week. But his wife is sick. Moses says his first-class ticket has been changed to 5 a.m.”

  Palmer was angry with Sneed for mentioning illegal gambling and racketeering in his upcoming campaign for Governor. Sneed was a reelect, and with two solid terms under his belt, Palmer couldn’t have him in the position to do more than make promises to the people and threats to himself.

  “All the serials have been erased, so do the job,” Palmer said, wiping his hands.

  Donavan nodded. It was a simple enough assignment for Donavan. He’d excelled with a sniper rifle in training, although he hadn’t been placed in the position to use one in Afghanistan. He placed the bag on the floor in the passenger seat. His cell phone was in the cup holder, next to convenience store coffee. Donavan got into the driver’s side with the mission on his mind. Unlike when he was on tour, he could keep Avery at the forefront of his mind. When shooting the politician for Palmer, his mind would be on Avery, making her great-grandmother Franny’s dream come true by handing over the capital needed to bring those desires to actual fruition.

  CHAPTER 35

  Avery

  Avery was a little concerned when her mom came home. She and Antonio were still at the piano, arguing about the tempo of the song when Verdrena came in and went straight upstairs with a facial peel on her face. Those masks always made her lips pucker and her eyebrows appear dramatically arched because it would tighten her skin, but her mom hadn’t even stopped to give a hug or a quick wave.

  Now, the family of four sat at the dinner table, in the same spots that they did when Avery used to live at home. There was an extra plate for Donavan, though he’d missed the first course. His frisée salad sat untouched. She placed her hand in her pocket to grab her cell phone to shoot him a second text but realized she’d left it on the piano. Avery rarely went without her cell phone in her pocket. It came in handy for those times she needed someone, like falling through holes at the Baudelaire mansion.

  Verdrena placed her hand on Avery’s to get her attention. “Sweetheart, I heard the harmony you and Antonio were working on when I came home from the spa earlier. Because of the facial peel on my face, I didn’t want to cry. The two of you are my pride and joy.”

  Avery nodded, stopping her disappointed glance from falling on Donavan’s plate again.

  Her brother was speaking, and after the good time they’d just had, it took everything in Avery’s being to become energetic enough to lift her eyelids to tune into his words.

  Avery felt her mother’s aura stiffen beside her. Just as Verdrena’s lips dropped, she glanced at Avery, then back at Antonio.

  She caught Antonio’s reply, “It’s true.”

  Avery pressed her fork against her glass. “Okay, I need to join the conversation. What’s true?”

  Alexander caught Avery’s attention. His gaze filled with a sincerity she hadn’t seen since falling off her bike for the first time. “You’re writing a song for your child?”

  She nodded. “Donavan’s and my baby.”

  Verdrena was short with her daughter while trying to get her attention in the opposite direction. She and Alexander were both seated at the heads of the table. “Sweetheart, you told Antonio about the baby? When?” Verdrena’s lips moved rapidly as she spoke. Then she offered a quick sign: “When!”

  Avery’s eyes widened. She was still stuck on the fact that Donavan wasn’t here yet. He was never on time to anything, but at least by now, he should’ve gotten her invitation and arrived.

  Antonio asserted himself. “She told me a few weeks ago, Mom. Sip your wine. Besides, I needed to know,”

  Her father waved at her again. “Beautiful, are you alright?”

  Shifting around in her seat, Avery couldn’t help that an overwhelming feeling had begun to creep over her.

  “I told Antonio. I had the right,” Her reply was irritable as her mother’s. She cast her gaze down toward her salad and speared a tomato to signify the end of the discussion.

  Avery perceived emotions radiating from them from each family member. From her father, it was guilt, or maybe if she gave him the benefit of the doubt, it was worry. Sympathy came from Antonio, and damn it, if her mother started crying, Avery was hitting the road. She forced herself to eat the food until a fraction of it was eaten, and the only person left at the table, other than herself, was her dad as Antonio stood up. When had her mom left?

  Damn, I should’ve paid more attention. She told herself. “Antonio, can you grab my cell phone.”

  He nodded.

  “Dinner was a lit
tle too healthy for me too,” Alexander patted his belly. Her dad smiled. “Pecan pie and Blue Bell ice cream might make you feel better.”

  She shook her head. The concern in Alexander’s eyes made her relent.

  “And tea?”

  “Where I’m from, baby girl, they’d stop partying to go get ice cream for the pie.” He chuckled, hinting to his deep south roots. “That great-grandma of yours has you all messed up.”

  Her anxious thoughts stopped moving at the speed of light, and Avery stopped to laugh. “Franny did love herself some tea and pie; it was the bourgie-Creole in her.”

  Alexander set aside his linen napkin. “I’ll tell the maid. Let’s sit outside. It was a hot day, but I’ve been in the office, and now, it’s cooling down.”

  “Alright, Dad.”

  As her father headed for the kitchen, Avery went into the living room where Antonio was seated at the piano. With unsteady hands, he played the tune they’d worked on at a fraction of the scale—ruining the song. And he’d been the one to want to pick up the tempo.

  “Too slow. And you said my version was too jaded.” She plucked up her phone.

  “Damn, I forgot. Sis, we’re gonna be rich once I get this to Kendrick.”

  “Talking about that Ken guy again.” She backed away with a chuckle. But this time it was just a joke. On their ride home from Florida, Avery had damn near fallen in love with Kendrick Lamar’s verses.

  “Where you going?”

  “Pie and tea with Dad.”

  His eyes bugged. “Let me go pray for supplications and intercession over this reunion. The Castle family is back, baby!”

  She turned around and flipped him the bird while strutting out of the room. On her way down a wall-sconce studded hallway, Avery scrolled through her recent text messages from Donavan.

  The smile on her face faded, and she stopped moving.

  DONAVAN: I haven’t done much to deserve you over the past…

  DONAVAN: probably nowhere near as much as the dude you just screwed things up with…