Always Us

by C C Monroe

  “I guess you were pretty blessed or maybe some angel up there loves you a little.” I smile absentmindedly, thinking of Pops.

  “My dad is up there, whispering in your ear to stay and let me keep you.” I feel those words hit me so far down deep in my soul, paralyzing me from the inside out.

  “He doesn’t tell me to stay, he tells me how to love you better. I love you more every day. Staying is not his doing, that is all my free will. I wouldn’t leave you—ever,” I whisper. Mirth dances across his soft features.

  “Come here, baby.” Pulling me into him so we’re chest to chest and skin on skin, I willingly wrap my small arms around him, enjoying the contact.

  “I want to take you out tonight. I’m going to draw you a bath and then I want you to get ready to watch the sunset on the beach. Yeah?”

  Kissing his bare shoulder, I smile against the warm skin. He smells so damn good it’s hard to think about leaving.

  “Sounds like a dream.” I can’t wait to do all the cheesy things that couples in love do and on that list of things is watching the sun set over the beach.

  Trey

  LEAVING SHAYLA IN THE TUB, I grab my phone and head out onto the balcony. Opening the sliding doors to the deck, I sit under the canopy. Scrolling through my contacts, I find the number I have been nervously waiting to call. My knee starts bouncing, my nervous tic kicking in. Biting my thumb in anticipation, I listen to each ring and swear they get slower with each one.

  “Hey, baby.” Kathy’s voice filters through the line and I smile. No matter what happens with Gwen, she’ll never take Kathy’s place. She’s been a loving mother to me and never once forced me to love her back, it came willingly. Kathy never let me down. Even standing beside me when I was a fucking hellion. I didn’t like her marrying my dad at first, I had no problem with letting her know right away. But she stayed patient and constant with me, because she was the light I needed and a blessing my father deserved after Gwen left. A thousand thank-yous could never suffice.

  “Hi, Mom.” I hear her sigh, like it’s the first time I’ve ever called her mom—she does it every time. She could never have kids of her own so I’m the closest thing she’s ever had to one. I feel like she has been in my life since my first memories, that’s how involved and attentive she was to me, making sure I was taken care of, loved, looked after.

  “How’s the trip going? Oh, was she surprised? Oh, honey, does she love it?” I laugh at her enthusiasm; she helped me get all this together in such a short time. Kathy found the rental house while I booked the flight and rental car. We’re a great team, damn it. I could have used my dad’s beach house, but this is a baby step, I’m not there yet, I still can’t even go home to Portland.

  “She was, and she does. Thanks for helping me out with all this. We needed it.”

  “Anytime, my boy. So, why aren’t you showing her off around town? What’s up?” Kathy knows me too well, reading me like a damn book. Her voice lost its earlier peppy tone and now she’s talking with curious reservation.

  “Well, I just want to let you know that tonight’s the night.” I pause briefly, taking one more deep breath. “I’m asking Shayla to marry me, Mom.” I hear her delighted sob followed by her scream. I yank the phone away from my ear, thrusting it in front of me. Shit that hurt.

  “Oh my God! Trey! I’m so excited!” I can see her now, just jumping around and pacing the house.

  “Thanks, I’m excited, nervous, but so damn ready, Mom.”

  “Oh, Trey. Your father and I are—” She stops, and I hear the faint sound of a sniffle and just like she felt that sting, so did I. Pops isn’t here, and I can’t share this moment in person with him. Only by spirit. “Your father would be so proud, I’m so proud.” I know Kathy still struggles to the replace all the ‘your father is’ with ‘your father would or was.’ I struggle with this every day, that familiar pain happening to me each time.

  “I know, I’m doing this with him in my mind, I know he’d be proud.” We don’t speak for a few moments as if the silence is a prayer sent to tell Pops we are thinking of him. She finally speaks first, changing the subject.

  “How’d your mom take the news?”

  Her question stuns me; we have barely talked about Gwen. Shit, I never even told Gwen about my plans to propose, don’t really know if I should or not. I’ve been trying to keep her and Shayla apart, keeping them as two different things in my life. I think it would be best if I keep this to myself, at least until Gwen and I are more stable in whatever this relationship is.

  I have had this ring since before my father passed, not knowing when I would find the right time to do it. But here in paradise, where we are us and connected as one, it feels right. What happened over the past few months is now completely behind us, and all it took was one day. If we can fix month’s worth of hurt in one day, what kind of hurt could we fix in a lifetime together?

  “I didn’t tell her, you’re the first person I wanted to tell.” I don’t want people to think that just because I’m attempting to make things right with Gwen, that we’re all of a sudden super close and I’m forgiving all the shit she put me and my dad through. I still have my reservations, and I wish everyone would trust me and support what choices I’m making.

  “I’m the first to know?” She’s so quiet, I almost ask her to repeat herself. She knew about the ring, just not when I was going to take the leap.

  “Yeah, you’re my mom, my best friend. Besides, I need your advice, I need this to go off without a hitch.”

  “You’re my best friend too, Trey.” I can hear the smile in her voice. She is the sweetest woman alive, besides Shayla. Kathy is my mother, and I know she worries I’ll take my mom back and forget her. Though she has never said it, I can tell when her and I talk about Gwen. There is a standing fear that never lingered before. But she stays silent, because she doesn’t want to hold me back from anything that my heart may or may not want. Kathy lets me be me and never stops loving me for those choices, good or bad.

  “Okay, so I was thinking…” I continue telling her about all of my plans and when I get her approval, I make sure she’s doing okay, checking if she needs me. When she promises me she’s getting there, I end the call.

  I stare at the phone in my hands like it’s the last call I am ever going to make. I hit dial for the second time and wait anxiously.

  “Hello?” His voice booms through the line, it’s deep and husky and ever more reason to have me on fucking edge.

  “Hey, Tom, it’s Trey.”

  “Oh, hey! How are you doing?”

  I’ll be perfect if this phone call works in my fucking favor.

  “Well, I’m in California with our favorite girl.” I laugh nervously, looking around the patio and checking the doors to the house, making sure she hasn’t stepped out of the bath. I know her pretty well, her baths can take hours if she really wanted them to.

  “Dang, lucky, what brought you two there?” Here it goes, I debate whether I should rush it out in one breath or ease it into casual conversation. However, neither seems like a good game plan, so I decide to approach with caution.

  “I wanted to bring Shayla here and get away from all the crap back home.”

  “You know, I underestimated you. My little girl is pretty lucky to have you to take care of her.”

  I feel my chest puff up, swelling in pride. I love taking care of Shay. It’s one of my favorite hobbies.

  “She deserves a break.”

  “She does, she came here last weekend and spent two days with me. She looked exhausted, you know—worn down.” I frown, my eyebrows furrowing when I don’t recall her telling me this. I know we weren’t talking every day, but I still wish she would have told me that she was this stressed, instead of hiding everything from me.

  I change the subject, not wanting to tell him that Shayla and I were on the edge of breaking up, especially before I ask him for permission to marry her. “I wish we had more than three days, but hey, listen, there’s
something else I wanted to ask you.” Hearing a familiar voice sound off in the background, I ask, “Is Kings there?”

  “Hell yeah, I am, fucker! You miss me?” He chimes in like the fucking glory hog he is.

  “Damn it, Kings, watch your mouth!” You would think his dad would just give up at this point. Kingston has been cussing since we met at age eleven and God knows how long before that.

  “You’re not calling to tell me she kicked you out?” Kingston asks, brushing off Tom, with his mouth full of some kind of food, chomping loudly.

  “Actually no, it’s going pretty awesome here. So that’s why I wanted to talk to you, Tom. I planned to call you after Kingston, but I guess we’ll kill two birds with one stone.” My stomach is in knots; taking a deep breath, I close my eyes. Here we go, cowboy.

  “I’m calling because I want to ask Shayla to marry me. She’s the love of my life and my relationship with her will always be my best accomplishment. I would like to have your blessing to marry your daughter.”

  The shattering of glass vibrates and echoes in the background.

  “Tom? Kings? Is everything okay?” I ask, worried.

  “You want to marry my little girl?” Tom’s voice is barely above a whisper.

  “Yeah, you want to marry our baby?” Kingston follows. Other than loving him because he’s my best friend, my favorite thing about him is how much he loves Shayla. It’s his best quality to date.

  “I do, and don’t worry, Kings, I’ll still let you see her—occasionally,” I banter, attempting to lighten the mood.

  “I was so proud when she told me she was dating you.” Tom steers the conversation.

  Damn, thanks, Tom, the vote of confidence is strong with this one, making me feel a little less nervous.

  “Then I saw the way you always had some form of physical contact with her. Checking the room and her pathway at all times for any danger that could come for her.” His choice of words has my chest tightening, his shaky voice adding to the effect.

  “Then, when she said those things about you and Pops at the funeral, I looked over at you. Your eyes were fucking glued to my baby.” I smirk, her words stayed in my soul that day, for forever. “I knew in that instant that I found the man who would take her away from me and be the new keeper of her heart. I may be her dad, but you’re her lifeline.”

  I wipe away the tear that falls from my eye. I swear, before I met Shayla, I never fucking cried. This woman made me a man, one with feelings.

  “No, she’s mine,” I admit. Shayla has been my lifeline this whole time. Every downfall and every hardship, she has been the steady pulse pumping through my system and keeping me alive.

  “We would love to have you in our family, legally. You know you’ve been like a son to me anyway,” Tom confesses, and I let out a shaky laugh. That’s so damn true.

  “You little fucker, I love you like a brother, but you mess this up and I’ll hate you like my fucking enemies. Got it?” Kingston gives me his best threat.

  “I won’t.”

  “No, Trey, I fucking mean it, that’s my sister. Shit, she’s my best fucking friend, and I really don’t think you understand what taking her hand means. It means you can’t hurt her or let her down. You fucking better treat her like gold.” His voice cracks on the last part. I know that he’s serious, and I know if I ever let her down—which I never fucking will—he would end me. Little does he know that I’ll never let Shayla go, once she says yes, she’s mine forever, and I will treat her like royalty, like gold, like a goddess.

  “I won’t,” I promise him again. “It might take me a couple of times to get it right, but I will.”

  “I swear, Trey, don’t let me down, but most importantly, don’t let my baby down.” Kingston finishes, sniffling then coughing, erasing all evidence of feelings. Damn.

  “I wouldn’t let you marry my princess if I thought you were stupid enough to ruin it,” Tom pipes in.

  I guess I need to have some fucking bro time when I get back, you know, talk with Kingston and make sure he’s really okay with this.

  “Anyway, tell us what you’re going to do,” Tom asks, and I inform them, like I did Kathy, with what my plan is.

  “Dude, you are such a fucking pussy, did you Pinterest that shit?” Kingston brings attention to himself, his humor back in full swing.

  “Okay, you boys talk, I need to go finish working on the yard. Hurry out, Kings, I need your help. Trey, do me proud. Good luck, son.”

  “Thanks, I will, I promise.” With that he leaves.

  “No, but really, that’s cheesy.” He repeats.

  “Fuck you, you’re just jealous because I’m a romantic and you, Neanderthal, don’t even know how to fucking spell it.”

  “Yeah, I can, watch. I-a-m-a-s-e-x-y-m-o-t-h-e-r-f-u-c-k-e-r. Boom!” I roll my eyes, so far back they could do a full three sixty.

  “You are such a fucking moron.” He scoffs and I laugh, looking back to the door one more time. I see Shayla wrapped in a towel, going through her suitcase, she looks beautiful fresh from the bath. I wink at her and she smiles.

  “On a real note, fucking Lana all the time isn’t considered romantic, shit head.”

  “Suck a dick, we do more than fuck. Last night I took her out to a nice dinner and I even bought her flowers, like a fucking modern day Romeo.”

  “Aw good for you, buddy, look at you go.” I mock him, standing up and looking out at the water.

  “Look at me go, those fucking flowers got me the best sex I’ve ever had. See, romance is my middle name.” I cringe. Lana’s like my sister, I don’t need to picture my big meathead best friend fucking her. I know just the remedy.

  “Oh, well I still have you beat because when Shayla saw the beach house, holy fuck she let me eat—”

  “Fuck off! No! God, I fucking hate you.” Kingston’s angry voice echoes through the phone, and I laugh, throwing my head back and holding my stomach. Fuck that was good.

  “Serves you right,” I remark, letting my laugh die down.

  “Whatever,” Kingston spits in the phone. I know he is playing mad, but he knows I fucking got him. I wait a second and check over my shoulder, I can’t see Shayla but I hear the faint distinct sound of a blow dryer.

  “Hey, Kingston, all joking aside. You’re okay with this, right? I mean, your approval means the most to me.” I pause and wait for him to answer, but it doesn’t come right away.

  Taking a deep breath through the phone, he finally responds. “Honestly, I never wanted my little bug to get married. She’s Shayla, man.” He stops and I nod silently. “But I know that’s unrealistic, I can’t keep her to myself and never let her get married. I’m just wicked fucking possessive over her. She’s my little sister, my everything. You know me and my fucking ways.”

  I raise a brow and nod my head in agreement. “Yes. I do. Shit, hopefully you only have boys when you have kids. A little girl wouldn’t be able to survive you.”

  “Fuck you. Anyway, I can’t hold her back and expect her to be forever single, but I can make sure she finds someone decent enough.”

  “Damn, thanks, buddy,” I reply sarcastically. I’m glad to know I’m decent, shit—he doesn’t even try to spare my feelings. I guess best friend rights are revoked when it comes to Shayla. Honestly though, I’m okay with that—because I would do the same.

  “You know what I mean, I just worry about her. But you’re my best friend, and I need to trust you. I do trust you.” He pauses and I stay silent.

  “Listen, just take care of her,” he finishes, and I wait just a moment longer. When he doesn’t speak again, I take the floor.

  “I’ll take care of her, I promise. She’s the one in control here. Okay?”

  “She better be.”

  “Thanks for being protective over her, Kingston.” The way he’s worrying about her confirms how fucking blessed I am to have her as mine.

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “YOU LOOK LIKE A DREAM in that dress, ba
by.” I admire Shayla, in her long white dress; it’s loose around her body, except her chest where it fits like a dream. The straps hang to the side of her arms, her thin neck, shoulders, and collarbone exposed. Her skin is glowing in the soft setting sun, feeling warm under my touch, evidence from our day in the sun. I’m standing here, rubbing her shoulders, while she stands in front of me at the bar top. It reminds me of a large tiki hut. It’s a U-shaped bar that’s surrounded by tin stools and held up by metal beams, straw covering the top. It’s right on the sand of the beach, just a short distance to the water line.

  “You look sexy in your swim trunks and hat. I really like seeing you relaxed like this.” Her head tilts back, landing against the space between my pecs.

  “I could do this all day. Drink margaritas, love on my girl, and watch the sun set.” Shayla spins, wrapping her arms slowly around my waist, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yep.” The noise of loud laughter and music catches our attention. Looking over to the makeshift dance floor, we notice some people dancing to the DJ’s music. The upbeat dance song playing is near the end and when the next number starts up, it’s one I know Shayla loves. She blares it any time it comes on in the car, singing carelessly in her sweet off-key voice.

  “Eek! Babe, I love this song! Do you love me enough to dance?” She prods anxiously, leaping from her seat; she starts bouncing on the balls of her feet. I would do anything she asked me to, especially when she looks so carefree.

  “Lead the way, beautiful.” She turns, grabbing my hand, our bare feet picking up speed toward the dance floor. When the first line of Brett Eldridge’s song, “Drunk on Your Love,” comes through the speakers, her already wide smile grows even bigger. The pink lipstick she’s wearing makes her white smile shine brighter.

  Shayla starts spinning around to the words, completely losing herself in her own element, while I stand back and admire her flawless body, swaying beautifully in front of me.