Different as Night and Day
Copyright @2019 Leigh Lennon
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This book is a work of fiction and is the product of the author’s imagination.
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Cover design by Najla Qamber
Photographer: Eric David Battershell
Cover Model: Chris Spearman
Alpha Reader: Emma Albright
Beta Readers: Nancy George, Kymberly Dingman and Kelly Green
Different as Night and Day
I laid my husband to rest...
Scott was my world and my future. His love for me transcended the dimensions of time and space—having made provisions for me in the event of his death. He was after all in a war zone and the odds were high he may not come home. But now I can’t help but think about the new man in my life – my husband’s father.
Maguire creates a desire deep inside of me I never knew existed. This is more than lust. I keep on asking myself the same question. Have I fallen in love with him because he's so much like my late husband or because he's his own man? Only time will tell.
After all, you can't choose love, it chooses you.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Playlist
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
A Note from the Author
It Takes a Village!
About the Author
Other Books by Leigh Lennon
Please Stalk Leigh Lennon on Social Media
Dedication
To Kelly:
You’ve come into my life and made it more orderly and bright! You are needed and respected and I appreciate you more than I can put into words.
And as always—to my mom:
You may have skipped over the steamy scenes because who wants to read a sex scene written by their daughter, but I know you would have loved this story. And you would have been my number one fan. I miss you every day.
Different As Night and Day Playlist
Maguire’s Playlist:
Airbourne, “Runnin’ Wild”
Bon Jovi, “It’s my Life”
Def Leppard, “Pour Some Sugar on Me”
Journey, “Don’t Stop Believin’”
Kansas, “Carry On Wayward Son”
Poison, “Nothin’ But a Good Time”
The Police, “Every Breath You Take”
Holland’s Playlist:
Fall Out Boy, “Uma Thurman”
Halsey, “Strange Love”
Imagine Dragons, “Bleeding Out”
Marshmello ft. Bastille, “Happier”
My Chemical Romance, “Welcome to the Black Parade”
Panic! At the Disco, “I Write Sins Not Tragedies”
The World is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die, “I’ll Make Everything”
The Author’s Playlist:
Billie Eilish, “When the Party’s Over”
Hozier, “Take Me to Church”
Hunter Hayes, “Secret Love”
Kid Rock, “Warrior”
Norah Jones, “Come Away With Me”
Radiohead, “Sail to the Moon”
Shinedown, “Diamond Eyes”
The All-American Rejects, “Dirty Little Secret”
Chapter 1
My eyes remain locked on the window, the flames overtaking the top of the garage, the place I first called home with my daughter. Her screams bring me back to reality—scouring her face and body for burns and cuts. I unwrap her from the makeshift carrier her grandpa bound her in.
My mind is on her grandpa, taking part of the sheet to wipe the black from her face. “Mama’s got you, little darlin’.” Maguire’s pet name for Scotland falls from my lips before I realize it. With my eyes on my daughter and my thoughts on Maguire, life wouldn’t be this cruel to take away another man I love? Would it?
Scotland is still crying when hands on my shoulders, startle me. “Holland?”
I look up into the familiar eyes of Felicia, the woman who delivered my baby. “Felicia!” I’m screaming, mirroring the screams of Scotland. “My father-in-law, he fell through the floor—I think. You gotta help him.”
Grabbing her walkie talkie, she leans down to the cold ground my daughter is draped on. “Truck, I’m with the caller. We have the baby. An adult male is toward the back of the garage. Fell through the floorboards, she thinks.” Felicia grabs my hands. “Holland, let the firemen do their job.” Her tone calms me as it did when she delivered Scottie. “For now, let me check out your little girl.” Her calm tone doesn’t do much to lessen my panic when her partner rounds the corner, running.
“Another ambulance is on the way!” she yells over Scotland’s cries. “They’re holding our ambulance for the dad.”
Do they think Maguire is mine? Oh, twenty minutes ago, he almost was. Now, I wonder if he’s still breathing. “We need to get her to the hospital, and we will as soon as the second ambulance arrives, for now, she’s responding, and we’ll get her started on oxygen.”
They don’t move Scottie, she remains on the ground, where I had started unwrapping her from the sheets. I don’t want to leave her but I need to be in the front of the garage, waiting on news about Maguire.
“Why are we waiting here?” They look at one another, and I’m aware of the answer in a second. With my daughter in their care, easily breathing, I take off to the front of the garage, my legs carrying me faster than I’ve ever run. The spray from the water mists all over me but this isn’t a distraction, not now. One of the firemen is waiting for me as I round the corner. “Miss, you may want to go back and wait with your daughter.”
Over the walkie talkie, a loud voice roars through the air. “Chief, we found him! Get the medics! We need them now!”
Leo
na runs around the corner, Felicia on her heels with Scottie wrapped in the same sheet. She hands her off to me. My baby is still screaming and I’m crying with her. In a split second, two firefighters appear, both men holding one leg each of my father-in-law’s. Hell, this is the man I love. He’s so much more than just my father-in-law. Emerging through the smoke, two more men are flanked on either side of him near his head. He’s covered in black soot, but I can spot patches of burned flesh on him—like a sore thumb. I take off with Scottie in my arms toward him, only for the chief to stop me.
“Ma’am, let the medics take care of him. For now, let me check out your daughter one more time.” He has me cornered; I can’t get to Maguire. “What’s your little one’s name?” His tone changes. He’s distracting me, pulling up her sleeves, checking her for burns as I had earlier. My cries continue as Scotland’s do. They have Maguire in the ambulance, the doors are shut. I can’t see him. I don’t know what’s going on. With the lights flashing, leaving the carcass of what is left of my home and the garage, part of my heart is transported away from me. For the second time in a year, someone as vital to me as my next breath may be taken from my world.
We’re rushed into the pediatric ward. Not a moment too soon, Elise runs through the double doors without regard for protocol. “That’s my girl in there!” she screams and though I’ve known Elise for less than a year, she truly is the best mother I could have ever asked for. Popping my head out of the triage room, she sees me and doesn’t stop until her arms are around my body.
Scotland isn’t crying, not when she hears the soothing voice of Elise. It doesn’t matter to the motherly figure next to us if the doctor is examining my baby, Elise picks her up, cradling her as if she’s done this her whole life. “It’s okay, sweet pea, I got you now.” She’s speaking to Scotland in a soft, soothing tone.
“Ma’am, can I finish my exam of your granddaughter?” The term stops us both in our tracks and Elise smiles at her new title.
“As soon as I hold her a second longer.”
The doctor accepts this answer. I’ve still not asked what’s plaguing me—but I’ll work up the courage, eventually.
“Maguire? Do you know anything?” I’m biting my lip, holding my breath.
She’s not looking at me, only at my baby. Handing her over to the doctor, she kisses Scottie one last time. “We’ll be out in the hallway if you need us.” Elise places my girl back down on the table as she whimpers, for what I assume is Elise. She tugs at my arm, pulling me away for a moment—to deliver the news I’m not sure I can take.
“Please, don’t tell me?” I ask and I know in my heart she’s going to break the news of his passing, and it’s a loss I couldn’t survive.
“No, sweetie. He’s not out of the woods, but he’s breathing.” She pulls me tight to her, not letting go. “I could have lost you all tonight. Thank the Lord above I didn’t.” She still has me near her, squeezing me every second she has me in the mama bear hug.
“Elise, you’re suffocating me,” I tease, attempting to find something that doesn’t bring back memories of Maguire falling through the floorboards. She loosens her death grip. Pulling back, tears are in her eyes.
“Holls, honey, you’re such a fixture in our life now, don’t you go doing that to me again.”
I nod. “I have no intention of being caught in a fire, anytime soon.”
“What in the world happened?”
I look down. The shame pouring through me. Once again, if I had been where I should have—and not in the arms of Maguire, I would have been already in the apartment and possibly escaped before the fire trapped both Scottie and him. I could have lost my daughter, due to my selfishness, of finally allowing his hands to caress my skin; his tongue to duel with my own and his fingers to enter me. It’s what we’ve both wanted for so long.
I look her in the eyes. “Maguire and I were talking on the steps. Then all of a sudden, the fire alarm startled us, he ran upstairs and hoisted Scottie out the window in a makeshift harness of sheets. When he was about to jump, the floor must have caved in.” My hands are in my hair when I understand why this is happening. “Oh, shit, Elise, it’s my fault. I allowed her to be upstairs without me.”
“Holls.” She squares her body with mine. “You were right outside; it would be the same if you were on the deck at Maguire’s house and she was in her bassinet in his living room. You did nothing wrong.”
Letting Maguire cup my breasts and unhook my bra, crashing my lips to his, grabbing his ass, feeling his erection against my own wetness and let’s not forget the orgasm of the century—I’m not sure this is faultless in my book.
Before I can say a word, the doctor peeks his head out of the exam room. “Mrs. Parrish.” He has Scottie in his arms and she reaches for me. It’s right then the stupidity of my decision really strikes me. “Thanks to your husband, we think this little one will be just fine, but we’re keeping her overnight for observation and calling in a specialist. I understand you’ll want to be with him, so Grandma here can stay in the room once we’ve admitted her.”
Oh, where to begin. Should I correct the doctor? Should I tell him? Maguire is not my husband but I love him like I did his son? Or Elise is more a surrogate mother than anything? No, it doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, I’m still alone in this world, my husband is gone and I’m not able to be with the man here on earth who loves me like Scott had.
Elise doesn’t wait for permission, no, she picks up Scotland from my own embrace, holding onto her for dear life. It’s funny how perspective is something that hits you like a bad perm when any sort of horrific event occurs in your life.
Scottie’s head is cradled in the crook of Elise’s neck. “Go, Holls, I got her. Go find Ned. You need to be with Maguire—he needs you.” Her tone and the pitch of her voice lowers as if forbidden is written all over my face to tell my story. I know she knows something happened between us. She’s never come out to call me on it. No, it’s not her way. Her eyes glimmer with hope or even a little tidbit of what I’m keeping from her. I take one look at Scottie and almost stop myself. My child is my world—the only thing I have left of my husband. But she’s safe and protected. My own guilt erodes my mind. If I had turned Maguire away—if I had been in the house—we’d never have been in this cluster of chaos.
“Go, sweetie. You need to see him. And if he’s conscious, he needs to see you.” Her sweet smile is motherly and loving. All the comforts of a home I’m making in Coral Creek.
I force myself down the corridor and toward the elevators leading me to Maguire. All I know: my selfish desire almost cost me my daughter. I’ll never allow this to happen again.
There’s no need to ask for directions. Ned is pacing in the hallway. His hands are raking his thick gray hair and his focus is somewhere on the floor in which he’s wearing a hole. Hospital staff rush in and out of the nearest room where he’s hovering.
“Ned,” I call. His head lifts to me, and I’m met with tears. His legs seem to have a mind of their own as he makes his way to me, wrapping me in his warm and comforting embrace. “Holland, sweetheart. How is Scottie?” He’s still holding tight to me as though I’ll incinerate from his grasp.
“She’s okay, but due to her age, they’re keeping her overnight—to further assess her. Elise won’t let her go.”
He draws back from me, his eyes closed like he can’t look my way. Do I ask? Do I want to know?
“Ned—be straight with me,” I plead.
He lets his chin fall to his chest, the longer part of his hair dropping into his face. “Right now, they’re more worried about his smoke inhalation. He’s intubated. But the burns, they’re not good either. First and second-degree, on his legs, back, and neck.”
“His hands.” I don’t have to explain why I ask this because Ned knows. If Maguire is stripped of his passion, the one thing he loves to do, I’ll never forgive myself.
“One hand, his left is burned, mostly secon
d- and third-degree, or so I’ve been told.”
My body stills. A sour taste explodes in my mouth and I run toward the nearest trash bin. He’s left-handed and with third-degree being some of the worst burns, how will he build again? After I dispel my guts, I find the nearest wall to steady myself when a fog overtakes my body and I fall, but I don’t think I catch myself in time.
A bad dream should make me catapult from my bed, but I can’t. Pain that can’t be categorized as simply just pain bleeds through my entire body and I’m motionless. This hallucination is so real, the burnt smell, the screams of my little girl. The fear and horror from Holland while I found a way to keep our girl safe.
It’s replaying in my mind as though it’s a horror film. But the smoke odor is gone, well, almost anyway. I can still smell a light scent but a deep clean smell soaks through my thoughts, and I know I’m not at Holland’s place. Oh, this is good, even in my dreams I can joke but I can’t move my body. No, I’m stuck.
My eyes are barely open. Oddly, they’re immobile, as is my whole body. Opening my lips to speak, my throat feels as if it’s literally on fire. Nothing comes out at all. But as they open little by little, I stare at a sterile white wall, and I know right away, I’m not in my house.
The ceiling has those fake squares and long fluorescent lights. It’s bright in the room, and not just from those fucking lights but because of the view from outdoors. I never have my blinds open. I love for my room to be dark all the time.
“He’s waking.” I hear faintly, a familiar voice like music to my ears. I focus on the longer than normal gray beard greeting me as my eyes concentrate on him.
“Hey, buddy,” my best friend says to me, his eyes threatening to spill over with tears. “Shit, M, you gave us all a scare.”
Me? How had I done this, landing myself in some foreign room? I attempt to speak, but I can’t. Nothing comes out and as I try, my throat goes from ten on the burnt factor to one hundred.
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