Holding Onto Forever (The Beaumont Series: Next Generation Book 1)

by Heidi McLaughlin

  In hindsight, I could’ve told my mother what I was doing so she could’ve called Katelyn and let her know I was coming, but I didn’t want to have to explain to my mom what I was doing here, especially when I don’t even know myself.

  Somehow I think seeing Peyton will make everything better, that she’ll tell me I’m making the right decision and she’ll promise to always be there for me. As delusional as it all sounds, I need her to understand where I’m coming from. It’s not like I could’ve accused Dessie of cheating on me without any proof or claim the baby she’s carrying isn’t mine. Leaving Peyton in the hospital that day was the hardest thing I’ve done to date, but I have a feeling facing her today is going to be even harder.

  As luck would have it, a car pulls up along the sidewalk and Ben gets out. Surely, he’ll have a code to get in.

  “Noah, what’re you doing here?”

  I point toward the house. “I’ve come to visit the Powell-James family, with gifts,” I say, holding up the bag of presents I swiped from behind our Christmas tree. I don’t know how long it’ll take before my mom realizes they’re gone, but I’m hoping to be back in Beaumont before she does. I have no idea if she planned to fly out here herself or if Katelyn and Harrison are planning a trip to Beaumont. I needed a viable excuse and this was it.

  “Anything in there for me?” Ben asks, pulling the edge of the bag a bit.

  “Somehow I think they’re for the twins and Quinn.”

  “Figures. Come on, they’re expecting me and you’ll be a nice surprise.” Ben punches in a code and the door opens. I follow him through and into the house, which is empty, but as usual, the back wall of windows is wide open and the people I’ve known as my second family is outside. Their laughter is loud and inviting.

  Ben steps out first and goes right to Peyton, while I watch from the entryway. He gives her a hug and she motions for someone to come over to them. I freeze at the sight of Kyle Zimmerman shaking hands with Ben, who happens to turn and look at me, followed by Peyton. She doesn’t look happy to see me at all, which is going to make my plea even harder.

  I slip my shoes off and step out onto the sand. It’s a bit cold compared to what it usually is in the summer, but comfortable nonetheless. Elle comes over and gives me a hug, followed by Katelyn. “Quinn is out in the water,” Katelyn says, pointing over her shoulder. I don’t correct her. It’s probably safer for her to assume I’m here to see Quinn and not her daughter.

  Except, Peyton is exactly who I want to see. I hand Katelyn the bag and trudge my way over to Peyton. I lean down and kiss her on the cheek, letting my lips linger there for a minute. “Can we talk in private?”

  She shakes her head and shies away from me. I stay there a beat longer, hiding my rejection. As soon as I right myself, Zimmerman sticks his hand toward me. “Westbury, it’s good to see you again.”

  “You too. What brings you to California?”

  He shows me his leg as if it’s supposed to mean something to me. I shake my head, not understanding.

  “He’s doing PT at Xander’s club,” Peyton says.

  “And what about you? Are you working with Xander?”

  Peyton sticks her leg out, which is clearly in a cast, but her arm seems to be in a brace. “Does it look like I can do anything? Do you see me sitting in this chair?”

  The hostility rolls off her in droves. I’m tempted to pick her up and carry her back into the house so we can have a conversation, but I have a feeling she’ll kick me in the head with her leg if I even try to touch her.

  Instead, I crouch down, so we’re eye level. I look into her baby blues, which she’s trying desperately to hide from me. “Hey, I really want to talk to you, Peyton, without everyone lurking.”

  “Fine,” she says. Peyton stretches her arms up, indicating I need to pick her up. I carry her into the house and down the hall to her bedroom where I set her down on her bed. As much as I want to sit next to her, I don’t, but I do get on my knees and slide between her legs. She had unshed tears in her eyes, breaking my heart.

  My hand rests on her waist, loving the way she feels. “Peyton, I’m so sorry about what I did in the hospital. Dessie’s pregnant and I--”

  “Chose her.”

  “I chose the baby.”

  “That might not even be yours,” she says. I rock back and look at her. Peyton’s face is cold and defiant.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because for as long as you’ve been with her, Noah, she’s been doing everything she can to keep you away from me.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Why are you here?” she asks, evading the question.

  “I don’t know, honestly. I knew I had to come and see you. She’s pressuring me to into getting married and I needed to talk to you.”

  “And you want me to what? Tell you not to marry her? Tell you to enjoy your life with her?” she sneers.

  “I want my best friend back,” I snap at her.

  “I don’t care what you want, Noah. You showed me exactly what you wanted when you left me right after professing your love for me. That’s not love, Noah. I may not have ever been in love, outside of loving you that is, but I know you don’t do something like that to people you claim to be in love with. You give them an opportunity to support you and be by your side. You don’t leave.”

  “I’m sorry, Peyton.”

  “So am I, Noah. Now if you’d take me back outside, Kyle is waiting for me.”

  As much as it pains me, I do as she asks. Once she’s settled in her chair, I quietly leave, not saying goodbye to anyone.

  27

  Peyton

  “Today’s the day. Are you excited?” Dr. Colby asks as she comes into the room. I’m sitting on the exam room bed with the help of my dad, with my broken leg propped up on a pillow, waiting for the tech to come in with the handy dandy saw to remove the contraption from my leg. According to the doc, I’m ahead of schedule by weeks.

  Excited would be the understatement. I’m nervous, anxious and afraid of how my body is going to respond later when I’m at PT. I want to walk. Crawl. Jump up and down. I want to feel human again. Showering by myself will be a blessing in disguise. I know not only for me but my mom as well. It’s awkward as hell having to get undressed in front of her, to have her wash my body parts. I can’t imagine how she feels, but she does it without question.

  “You have no idea.” Dad, Mom and the doc all laugh. If it weren’t for my parents being diligent with my care, I’d probably still be in the hospital. Once I made it through the first night, my parents were shocked to find out I wasn’t properly cared for. I get it to some extent. The surgeon probably thought having bulky casts in the way would prevent people from being able to touch me, but on the other hand, he had zero faith in me and he should’ve. He’s the doctor. It’s his job.

  “How’s therapy going?”

  “It’s good.” I lift my arms and show her my tiny bit of muscle. Since I’ve started working out, I enjoy it. The draw to keep going is there, and I’ve asked Xander to find me a trainer in Chicago. Much to his and everyone else’s dismay, I plan to return to school for summer classes. Missing a full semester, plus finals, is going to set me back a year, and I don’t want that.

  “Your uncle tells me you plan on trying to walk today?”

  I nod happily. “I do. I’m tired of the chair. Being waited on is nice, but I’m an independent person and not having my freedom is really a blow to my ego.”

  “Okay,” she says. “I’ve spoken to him about stabilization. You have a few options. We can transition from the chair to a cane until Xander clears you or we can go with the Rollator, which is the walker with the seat.”

  I blanch. My dad coughs. And I swear my mother snickers in the corner. I give them the side-eye, letting them know I’m not very happy with their non-verbal comments. “I think I’ll stick with the chair until my uncle says I’m good.” There is no way in hell will I be caught pushing a walker down the street
. Imagine the looks I’d get. The tabloids would have a field day. They’re already insisting Kyle and I are dating, even though we’re clearly friend-zoning each other. And if it’s not about Kyle and I, I’m either a druggie, a dropout or pregnant. Each time a new headline comes out, I cringe at what it might be. Let me say, it’s been fun in my house lately.

  I never bothered to tell my parents I invited Kyle over for Christmas so when he buzzed the gate, my dad was none too impressed to find it was the man who put me in the situation I’m in. They know he didn’t cause the accident, but he was there, which in my parents’ eyes means Kyle is guilty by association.

  Christmas was awkward, at best. But as the day went, things got better. My mom was still hesitant around him, but I understood where she was coming from. Kyle and I both survived a very similar accident that took my father away from us – even for me, it’s hard to grasp. However, Kyle has been over more frequently to visit and has even gone surfing with my dad.

  And as uncomfortable as it was when Noah showed up, Kyle was a trooper. He hasn’t fully come out to ask me about Noah. He’s hinted with random statements, which I’ve ignored. I’m not in a place where I can fully say what Noah is or was to me because life is too short to play the what-if game. What if… Noah chose me over Dessie? What if… I was never in the accident?

  What if… what if… what if…

  The list can go on forever, and you’ll never find the answer. I refuse to play the victim or be the one Noah seeks out because he’s gotten himself into a situation. I can’t be that person for him anymore, and I hate it. I hate that our friendship is over because of… well, everything. More so, I have so much animosity for his future wife, I refuse to go to their wedding. Of course, my entire family is making the trip, which means I will too, but I’m not leaving my house.

  The tech comes in with his handy dandy saw, which I begged Kyle to find online so I could at least crack my cast open in order to scratch my leg. From our first luncheon, he told me he’d saw it off, but the jerk quickly changed his mind and gave me some spiel about healing and potential damage. I stuck my tongue out at him because being childish is the way to act when you don’t get your way.

  “I want to caution you, Peyton. This will be different from when we took the cast off your arm.”

  “I know. My leg is going to stink. There will be a lot of dead skin. And I have to be careful with how much itching I do.”

  Dr. Colby smiles. “The nurse will come in and give you a scrub down before you leave, which will help alleviate the issues.”

  “Perfect.”

  I wiggle my freshly painted toes, thanks to my sister, as the tech nears my leg. The saw switches on, and suddenly my mom is by my side. She grips my hand as the blade touches down on the cast. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers into my ear. I lean my head against her and watch with apt attention as the tech slowly cuts open my cast. I already know what my leg will look like. There’s a nice scar running down the front of my shinbone, which matches the one on my chest and upper thigh. I joked, saying I was going to go as Frankenstein this year for Halloween, but the only one who found it funny was Quinn. He’s really the only one not treating me with kid gloves but has been an overly amazing brother.

  As soon as the cast is pulled open, I quickly pull my shirt over my nose. My eyes water and I’m tempted to tell the tech to put it back. “God, I stink.”

  “It’s to be expected,” Dr. Colby says.

  My foot is lifted out and placed on the pillow. I stifle my laughter when a pool of sand falls out of the heel of my cast.

  “Peyton, what is that?” Mom asks.

  “Dunno.” I shrug.

  “Unbelievable. Who let you play in the sand?”

  Let’s see, Mom. Quinn. Dad. Kyle. “I think it’s probably from the wind.” There isn’t any reason to tell her Kyle gave me piggyback rides while I tried to fly a kite. Or Quinn and I built a sand castle one day and I had to beg him to set me on the edge of the tub so I could remove all the sand from my shorts. And there’s my dad who covered my arm and leg and took me out on his surfboard so I could feel human again.

  “Definitely the wind. I mean we do live on the beach,” I point out. She seems to agree. I chance a look at my dad who is in the corner. He winks; reminding me our secret is safe. Truthfully, my dad would never do anything to upset my mom. I can’t recall a time when they’ve ever fought, and if they have it was never in front of us. But, that doesn’t mean he won’t do what we ask, even if it means upsetting her if she were to find out. Taking me out on the surfboard was one of those times.

  It’s five in the morning and I can’t sleep. Elle and Quinn are back at school, leaving me to fend for myself which equates to having mom bug me every two minutes to see if I’m okay. I don’t know if I ever will be, but I’m surviving. Behind me, the sliding door, or more fittingly named “the wall of windows,” opens and my dad steps out. I can tell by his breathing and his cologne it’s him.

  “It’s early, sweet pea.”

  “Couldn’t sleep.”

  He pulls a patio chair close to me and sits down. Like me, he’s staring out into the surf. Out there, it’s where he loves to be. Every day, unless he’s on tour, you’ll find my dad in the water and normally my mom sitting in the sand watching him. I want a love like theirs. The all-consuming-never-wavering type of love.

  “You okay, baby girl?”

  I nod and lean toward him so I can rest my head on his shoulder. He’s never been one to prod, always waiting for us to come to him with an issue or problem. It’s like he stands back in the shadows, knowing eventually we’ll confide in him. He knows mostly everything about me, except for when it comes to Noah. I don’t think there will ever be a time when I can look my dad in the face and tell him I’m in love with Noah. Never mind the age difference, which isn’t an issue the older I get, but it’s the fact that it’s Noah, his best friend’s son.

  “Want to go surfing?”

  “I wish.”

  “I can make it happen.” I look at my dad, who’s smiling widely. “You know I would never do anything to jeopardize your recovery.”

  “I know,” I tell him as my head starts to nod. “I never thought I’d miss it until I was told I couldn’t.”

  My dad kisses me on the forehead and disappears to the side of our condo where the shed is. He comes back with his wetsuit on and sets his surfboard in the sand. “Be right back,” he says as he goes into the house. My heart is beating rapidly with anticipation, wondering how this is going to work.

  When he returns, he pulls off the blanket I was using to stay warm. As if he’s in a hurry, he takes my leg and slips it into a heavy-duty trash bag and starts taping it up, like I’m about to take a shower. He turns and crouches down in front of me. “Get on.” I climb onto his back and start laughing. “Ssh, your mother will kill me… but it’ll be worth it to see you smile.”

  A lone tear escapes when he says that. I imagine the accident and subsequent recovery has been hard on everyone. When we get down to the surf, he slides me down to the sand. “Okay. I’m going to set you on the board and we’ll paddle out together. If you fall in, I’ll save you.”

  I nod and reach my arms out to him. He cradles me for a minute before he sets me on the board. I expect him to get on behind me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pushes us out, treading water the deeper we get. The waves are minor but still exhilarating. Being out here and letting the sun hit my face as it wakes up, will be worth the wrath I receive from my mother.

  By the time we’re done, I’m soaked, and I love it. My clothes are waterlogged. My hair is drenched. But it was all worth it. When we get back to the house, thankfully Mom isn’t awake yet. Dad does his best to get me fresh clothes and when Mom wakes up, he winks and presses his finger to his lips. Mom was none the wiser.

  The nurse is gentle as she scrubs the dead skin off my leg. I’m smiling at the memory of my dad and I surfing, knowing that soon I’ll be able to get back out there and
ride next to him.

  Even though my cast is off, I’m still in the chair. Everyone in the office claps for me as my dad pushes me out. Dr. Colby was hesitant to see if I could stand and wanted Xander to be the one to test out my leg, fearful it’s too weak to withhold my weight. Bless her heart she never brought up the fact I may not be able to walk right away.

  28

  Noah

  I’m the definition of a chicken shit. For weeks I have avoided the inevitable. Dessie planned a wedding, invited people and somehow I haven’t grown a set to tell her no or that we’re making a mistake. Not only that, but she’s delusional enough to think this is what I want. Maybe it is. Maybe I’m too blinded by my infatuation to see what’s in front of me. Dessie is pregnant with my child, and at some point, I must’ve thought marriage was in the cards for us since I asked her to move in with me.

  Needless to say, I have frozen feet solidly encased in cement being anchored to the ground. I don’t know if I’m making the right decision or any decision at all for that matter.

  Dessie’s loving the attention she’s getting from the local paper. Of course, it’s big news when your former high school standout returns home to get married, which was never my intention, yet as my tuxedo pants are being yanked, pulled and I’m asked which side do I hang, I haven’t found the words to tell her we can’t do this.

  “Everyone is so thrilled you chose Beaumont,” Mrs. Kline says. Her and her husband have owned the only wedding store in town for years. I was fitted here for each tuxedo I wore to prom. “Are you doing the flowers?” Mrs. Kline asks my mom, who is sitting in the corner, watching me as I get poked with needles.

  “I’m not. I passed the job onto another florist in Allenville. I don’t want to fret over the finer details while Noah is getting married.”

  My stomach rumbles just as Mr. Kline tells me I’m done. Ever so gingerly, I walk off the platform and into the dressing room where I carefully step out of my pants. I dress quickly and meet my mom by the door.