He took time in answering me, swallowing hard as if he had second thoughts. “I bought you a new home in Chicago for a wedding present.”
“You mean you bought us a home?”
“Well, yes, us. I know you don’t like living over the bar.”
“You’re a good man, Harrison Brooks. I don’t deserve you.”
“I could say the same. You make me a better man.” He tried to pull me toward the bedroom.
I noticed there was one more gift on the counter. “You forgot one.” I teased.
“Why yes, I did, but that one is for me.”
“You wrapped your own gift?” I grabbed the gift sack off the counter. In between pieces of tissue was the red necktie I’d brought home from San Francisco a few weeks earlier.
The immediate memory of our sexual experience that night flashed through me with lightening force. My nipples peaked and my sex clenched on the verge of climax. My eyes met his. The look he gave me was hot enough to scorch the bottom of the sea under us.
“Come with me.” He extended his hand.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The sound of the helicopter accompanied by vibrations woke me from my completely sated nap. I sat up in bed, startled. A quick moment had passed while I tried to focus on where I was, unsure if I was dreaming. Suddenly, my throat tightened, fear constricting my voice.
“Mom. Something’s wrong with Mom.” I shook Harrison who was still stretched out in deep slumber. “Wake up, a helicopter just landed. I’m going to check on my mom,” I uttered while scrambling out of bed.
“Relax, sweetheart. The chopper is for us,” he purred with outstretched arms. “Come back to bed. I’m not done with you.”
I thought I detected a bit of a sexy drawl in his voice. Yum.
“Aw, God, your surprises are killing me. Where are we flying off too?”
“Italy, Spain, and Greece.”
I fell back hard and uncontrolled on the pillow in a semi-conscious sense of shock. Seriously. The man knows no boundaries when it comes to getting what he wants.
We hadn’t discussed how long we’d be away. He’d said a few days. Luke had control of the bar and dog-sitting Max while we were away. Harrison had gone to great lengths to link the security cameras to the internet before we left Chicago, so he could check on the bar and watch live footage of Max online. He used the iPad to check in consistently.
But what about my job?
It was hard to focus on the issues when my husband was frisky in the morning. Make that frisky morning, noon, and night. He was insatiable, and I loved every minute of being loved by him. The thoughts of the evening before and the red tie put a smile on my face. I bit my lip and shook my head with energized warmth spreading through my veins.
“What’s the smile for?” he asked while running his finger across my lower lip seductively.
“Oh, just remembering last night or should I say early this morning.”
“Well, it’s afternoon now, so how about a nooner?”
“What? Afternoon? What time is it?”
“Almost one-thirty?” He laughed. “Relax, everyone is taken care of with Sea-Doos and scuba, and your mom is actually taking cooking lesson right now. It’s our honeymoon.”
“Yes, and honeymoons aren’t meant for family.”
“Exactly. That’s why we’re leaving them. They’ll all take the jet home tomorrow. I’ve got it all under control, so come here and bite that lip again for me.”
***
I spent the afternoon in the kitchen, watching my mom flirt with the chef. I couldn’t remember seeing her so happy. I secretly took pictures of her escapades to use as blackmail later. I knew she’d never admit to flirting and was glad to have it in hard copy!
We waved good-bye to family and friends as the helicopter lifted us off into worlds unknown to me, truly living the fairytale life with my prince by my side. He held my hand and kissed away the single tear that had escaped my eye.
The helicopter dropped us off at a villa Harrison had rented for us in Italy. We spent the weekend touring vineyards and the olive orchards we had found online, which belonged to his ancestors. We actually met some of his distant relatives and obliged their invitation to join them for a special celebration meal. I noticed Harrison’s eyes light up during conversation about his maternal great-grandparents.
Our time there was short, but truly lovely.
Our honeymoon continued with a few luxurious days touring Spain. We made fun of each other trying to speak their Castilian language, and I was fairly certain I prevailed, but I discovered my husband could be a sore loser, so I pretended to suck up in defeat.
The architecture and ancient ruins of Greece had to be the most exhilarating of all. We were enjoying lunch in Santorini when Harrison received a call that left a disturbing look on his face, cold enough to freeze the volcano Mauna Loa.
My blood ran cold. Instantly, I sensed something was terribly wrong.
He quickly stood, pulled back my chair for me, and left money on the table. “We need to get back.”
“What happened?”
“We need to get packed and head to the airport. My assistant is chartering a plane for us.”
“Stop. Tell me why.”
“I don’t want to do this here. Come to our room.” He took me by the hand, and we raced to our room.
I’d never witnessed him in so much angst.
“It’s your mom, sweetheart. She… Her heart gave out.”
I sunk to my knees beside the bed; the joy of life sucked out of me.
Harrison lifted me onto his lap and held me while I cried. How could she fight her kidney cancer so hard and lose her life to a heart attack? I didn’t understand it. She seemed so much better on the ship. If only I’d spent more time with her. I hated myself for being so selfish.
“The car’s here. Let’s go home.”
***
The flight home seemed so long. I studied the images of my mom on my phone for hours and cried. I watched the videos I’d taken in the kitchen with her flirting, over and over, grateful I had them. Her laughter so sweet and so strong. Happy.
Harrison was there for me. He intimately knew the loss of a mother, losing his mom to breast cancer as a young man. Years later, he lost his dad to a heart attack. He knew my pain first hand. There were no words to make things better. She’d suffered with the cancer, spent many days in bed from extreme pain, yet she never complained. I knew I couldn’t be selfish to keep her alive and in constant pain, but I wasn’t ready to let go.
I tried to find comfort in knowing she’d passed with peace in her heart for me. She knew how happy Harrison made me. She loved him. He loved her in his own way.
Somewhere over the sea, I managed to fall asleep and slept the rest of the trip. When the plane landed, we were in Dallas. I didn’t even recall that we had stopped in New York for fuel. Alexandra met us at the airport. She didn’t have to say anything; she too knew what it was like to lose a mother. She held me close as I cried.
***
The next few days were more like an out of body experience. At least, I wanted to be out of my body. I wanted to be anywhere, but where I was and what I had to go through. The service was private and small. I went through the motions but emotions… that was a different story. I had none. I was numb.
“Sweetheart, you have to eat,” Harrison patiently urged, wrapping his arm around my waist.
“I’m not hungry. I’ll eat when I am.”
“I promised her I’d never let you have food…”
I turned to look at him. I wanted to see him confess to gossiping with my mother. How dare she?
“She told you, didn’t she?”
“Yes.” He straightened his back and took a defensive posture. “At the wedding, she saw how thin you’d become. She said she was worried about you and thought I should know. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I suffered from anorexia in college. No big deal, lots of girls have eating issues in college.”
“It wasn’t just college, Monica, was it? Be honest.”
“Fine. You’re right. You’re always right. Leave me alone,” I yelled as I jerked my arm away from him.
I ran out of Alexandra’s house and took a long walk through the Preston Hollow neighborhood, where Alexandra and Grayson lived. Such a beautiful, park-like neighborhood. Large trees, beautiful homes, and even a secured area that held the home of a former President of the United States. The leaves had turned and many of the brightly covered ones covered the pavement and sidewalk. Everything I saw said “family” to me, yet I had none.
Nothing mattered to me. I had no direction, like a feather floating in the wind without a particular place to land. Grateful that my phone was in my pocket, I called Cooper to come get me.
“Where do you want to go, baby girl?” he asked through the open window of his car.
“Anywhere but here.”
We drove around for a few minutes before he pulled through a drive thru. “I’m freakin’ starving. You want something?”
“Why does everybody keep trying to shove food down my throat?” I bit out.
“Hey, hey, hey. Simmer down. I was just being a gentleman, not force-feeding you. Stop being bitchy.” He grabbed my shoulder hard as he spoke.
It was a wake-up call.
“I’m so sorry.” I buried my head in my hands and wept.
Cooper parked the car and ate his burger and fries quietly while I stared out of the windshield. He remained quiet; I was certain he was waiting for me to make the next move. My phone vibrated about every ten seconds with a text or call from Harrison. I kept sending him to voicemail.
“I should’ve spent more time with her. Why didn’t I? Oh, I know. I’m selfish. Always chasing my dreams of a career. I left her alone.”
“Your mom loved you. She was proud of you and your accomplishments. She encouraged you, didn’t she?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts, Monica. Enjoy the great memories and cherish having a loving mother.”
“You don’t know what it’s like to lose your only parent.”
“No, and you don’t know what it’s like to have parents living who want nothing to do with you and can’t love you for who you are. Un-acceptance just might be as bad as death.”
“I’m sorry, Cooper. I had no right.”
“Don’t be sorry, celebrate her as best as you can, but don’t beat yourself up with should haves.” He gripped my hand.
I saw the hollowness in his eyes and felt the sadness rip at my heart as he quietly watched me. I realized he’d experienced his own loss.
Buzz, buzz, buzz… Harrison was blowing my phone up with texts.
Harrison: I’m so sorry
Harrison: Please come back
Harrison: I LOVE you
Harrison: Please forgive me
Me: With Cooper
Harrison: I know. U okay?
Me: On our way back.
Me: I love you 2
“You told him you were coming to get me?” I uttered, but my question was more rhetorical.
“Didn’t have to. He knew the minute I walked out. There’s been a black Mercedes following us ever since I picked you up. He’s behind us in Grayson’s car.” Cooper laughed.
I turned around, and sure enough, there was my husband. “You can tell them apart?”
“Just a good guess. Besides, Harrison’s wearing a tie. Grayson had on a turtleneck sweater.”
“Right. You always notice the clothes. Pull over at the next corner.”
Cooper pulled into a convenience store lot. Sure enough, the black Mercedes followed. As I slowly approached the driver’s side window, I kept the driver’s eyes in my stare. He rolled the window down.
“How much for every night for the rest of your life?” he asked with an apologetic smile.
“On the house,” I said before kissing him.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dallas was home, but at the same time, it wasn’t any longer and would never be again. Harrison returned to Chicago, and I stayed behind to take care of Mom’s estate.
It was hard leaving him at the airport, but we both agreed the next steps were part of the healing process and something I needed to come to terms with on my own. He didn’t want to leave; I insisted he give me the space and stop hovering. He gave up too easily, which made me wonder what he had up his sleeve.
When I approached the porch of my mom’s small Tudor style home, I realized it had been weeks since I’d been there. It didn’t feel like home, more like I was a visitor, seeing everything for the first time.
I opened the Express package Luke had sent me, which contained my keys and found a sweet note:
Monica,
There are no words to covey grief, but there are many that convey love. We just want you to know how much we love you and even though we never met your mom, she raised an incredible daughter and that could only have been because she was an amazing woman. Whatever you need, we’re here for you.
With much love,
Kaci and Luke
I sat down in the rocker on the porch with the note and keys in my hands, trembling with the fear of facing so many realities. I noticed the landscaping had been refreshed, and there were pansies planted all along the front of the house and sidewalk. The sight of them calmed me, the thoughts of how they got there warmed me. Harrison.
I walked through the house and took inventory. I saw all of her things perfectly arranged. She was always extremely neat and organized, but I also realized how simple her tastes were. I smelled the aroma of Harvest Apple, her favorite fall fragrance in the scent warmers still plugged in the outlet. Her jewelry and favorite perfume, Light Blue, decorated her antique dresser that was my grandmother’s family heirloom.
The room was so quiet, I heard the creaking of the hardwood floors underneath my steps, yet I felt her presence all around me, like she had been escorting me.
I spent most of the day just looking and appreciating her world. The video of her on my phone made me laugh…and sometimes cry. I watched it over and over until her joyful laughter filled my veins with new oxygen. It was in one of my times of laughter that a small journal lying on the ottoman caught my eye.
My mom had a journal? I never knew.
I read the entries from the beginning. She started the journal just after her cancer diagnosis. Her entries were mostly remembering funny stories of our life. As I read them, I laughed and enjoyed the wonderful memories. My mother, quite the comedic writer, provided enough banter for a stand-up comedy.
She reminded me of the time I was hosting a bridal shower. I’d found those chocolate bowls filled with berries online and was determined to make them. The recipe called for inflating small balloons and dipping them in chocolate and letting them harden on a cookie sheet. After a few minutes, the balloon could be popped, revealing a nice chocolate cup for berries and cream, chocolate mousse, etc. Simple enough for even the lowest grade craft person, right? Not so much.
My first balloon popped the minute I put it in the chocolate, sending chocolate splatter all over the walls, the ceiling, and me. She sat at the bar and almost died laughing. I wasn’t about to be defeated, so I cleaned up the mess, reread the instructions on the internet, and tried again. Same thing. Not once, not twice, but three times I failed and all three times she doubled over in laughter as I redecorated her kitchen with chocolate. It would’ve been nice if the recipe indicated that when using actual chocolate, and not candy melts, that the chocolate required tempering! The chocolate cups may have defeated me, but the experience with my mom…priceless.
The stories continued to fill me with laughter and fond memories until I came to the ones where she started to leave guided inspirations. Many of them filled with quotes and daily aspirations. The final entry was right before she left for our wedding.
My sweet girl,
If you’re reading this, it probably means I’ve gone on to my next life. I want you to know my life was
full and I lived it joyfully with you and through you, sometimes vicariously. I know at times, I was over-protective and you felt I was smothering you. I won’t apologize. Being your mother was never a burden, only a blessing.
You’ve met a wonderful man and I have no doubt he will love you for who you are and will make a wonderful partner for every breath you take. You are a strong, vivacious woman with much courage. We’ve been through a lot, you and me, but we’ve faced everything together. Now, he will be your partner, serving you as the best husband and father he can ever be. There’s nothing that will come your way in life that you two cannot handle together. Always remember that. You will never be alone.
I have no doubt you will be an amazing wife and mother. I hope I am there to experience many more things with you, but I’ve not been feeling well and don’t know how much more time I have, so I want to make sure I say these things to you. Do not spend precious time being sad for me after I’m gone. Fix your makeup, fluff your hair (as you always do), straighten your skirt and put on your boots lying by door. Go enjoy every moment in life. Walk through the park and listen to the trees. Hear the sounds of nature communicating. The wind is my lullaby to you and always remember I love you all over the world and back again.
Love,
Mom
I looked down at my black skirt and giggled. She knew me too well, but I almost fell over laughing when I glanced at the door and saw my black boots in disarray on the floor.
Just as Mom requested, okay, more like ordered, I fixed my skirt, touched up my makeup and pulled on my black boots with a smile, no tears. I tucked her journal into my purse and went to retrieve the mail before locking up.
Alexandra pulled up to the curb. Seeing her at that very moment was more than refreshing, it was perfect.
“Tried calling, but your phone must be off. The girls and I thought you might want some dinner?” she said while hugging me.
“Not if you’re cooking,” I teased.
“Shut up. I’ve improved. I’m domesticated,” she uttered through laughter.
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