Different as Night and Day

by Lennon, Leigh

  “Holland, we’ve not been good parents. We know this.” My mother says and it’s the most obvious statement she leads with.

  “No shit, Mom!” I shout.

  She lets a tear fall from her eye. I don’t care if she’s heartfelt, I don’t care one second.

  “Holland, I’m not sure I can explain to you why we were the way we were. I guess, we knew early on we’d never be good parents but you came into our lives anyway.”

  “And you what? Want me to feel sorry for you? And how in the fuck do you want me to react to the fact that I was basically a mistake?” I’d always suspected this, but to hear it actually said out loud is still a sucker punch to the gut. They’re digging themselves a shallow grave and I hope they suffocate in it. “I recently lost a woman who was in my life for just over a year. She was more of a mom to me than you ever could be.”

  She lowers her head in shame but I don’t feel remorse for the words I’ve said.

  “People make mistakes and you never went without. It was the only way I knew to show you I cared.” My mom’s rebuke is as ludicrous as her apology.

  “Yeah, Mom, it kept me content as I saw other parents waiting for their kids outside the locker room the night we lost in the state finals. I was the only kid who didn’t have a parent to hold me while I cried. And I was the only child on the bus after the loss because every other parent was there to take their daughter home.”

  “Now, wait, sweetheart…” My dad tries to speak up for my mom but I stop him.

  “And you, how could you do all of this to me? You tried to love me but you were tapped out after one hug or a peck on the cheek. Even Christine in all her crazy glory was affectionate with Scott. You guys acted as if you’d be happy if I had disappeared but now I know why. You never wanted me and you would’ve been just as joyful as an elf at Christmas if I had never existed.”

  My mother backs up into the embrace of my dad. They’ve always been so loving with one another. Why not me?

  “Holland, honey,” my mom begins. “I do love you. I swear I do. I just didn’t know how to show it.”

  I try to block her out when I close my eyes as I mentally sift through their load of crap. “Excuses are all I hear. It’s all you have. If you don’t know how to do something, you try again until you get it right. Oh, that’s some great advice my own parents should have taught me. But you never did. I taught myself to sew. My sixth grade P.E. teacher taught me to play basketball. Scott showed me how to play pool. Maguire has taught me to strip the paint from a truck. And Elise, the woman I’ll always think of as my mother, taught me to cook but also showed me how to love my own child! Y’all are just the biological people who gave me life. And now, I can tell you without a doubt in my mind, I don’t need you. It’s the one thing you taught me, how to live without you!”

  I attempt to walk away from them but it seems too easy, so I spell it out. “Don’t ever come near my daughter or me again. But, I have to thank you, this was the closure I needed.” I take one step after the next, never looking back.

  I hurry around to the steps that are on the other side of the building as to not let them see me when I fall backward. The break down is overdue. They are the words I’ve always wanted to say but never had the courage.

  A whoosh of wind hits me with my head in my hands. When I look up, someone is in my space. I turn to the warm eyes of Maguire.

  “You coming to yell at me for moving, I’m not in the mood for it, asshole.” Yeah, in need of self-preservation, I resort to name-calling because I can’t suffer through one of his lectures.

  “No, darlin’, no lectures from me today. Just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you.”

  “What? For basically telling my parents to go fuck themselves?” I ask.

  “Yeah, that’s exactly why I’m proud of you. You needed closure.”

  He puts his arm around me and I lean into his touch because as much as I’m convinced we’re bad together, I need him more than I care to admit.

  Chapter 26

  She’s at my front door, and I’ve not seen her since her breakdown after telling her parents off. Through Ned, I learned Jase has been in town helping her pack up. I want to beat on her door like a caveman, grabbing all her shit, as I move her to my place. But, forcing Holland’s hand has never worked.

  But now, she’s here, looking as lost as I feel. I wanted to believe she’d not leave without saying goodbye. She’s by herself, a heavy jacket shielding her from the cold.

  Sliding the door open, she walks in, her hands in her pockets, her face turned down.

  “I didn’t want to leave it like we had the other day. You mean too much to me. I want to make sure our relationship—merely platonic—is still intact.”

  I throw myself back into my chair, my arms over my head. “Platonic—you forget I know what you feel like as I thrust deep inside of you. I think the platonic ship sailed a long fucking time ago.”

  “But…” she stutters. “You’re still Scottie’s grandpa—surely you still want to see her.”

  “And you’re taking her away from me like Chris did with Scott so long ago.” Yeah, I repeat it, like I had a couple days ago.

  A loud audible gasp leaves her mouth. “I can’t believe you fucking said this to me again!”

  I know she doesn’t deserve to be compared to Christine and in my book, there are no comparisons, but I said it to hurt her as she’s doing to me.

  “Then stay. Stay and let’s work this out. We can go slow. Hell, you’re running away from the love you won’t find anywhere else. It’s here.”

  She stands closer to me. “It’s a reminder I’m disrespecting Scott’s memory. It can’t happen. And I need distance so I can get on with my life.”

  I bolt from the chair, closing the space between us, pushing her up against the wall, pulling at her arms, tossing them above her head.

  “And this, what we share, will never go away. I’m your beacon. Your home. You can never escape me.”

  I don’t make a move but allow Holland to when her mouth crashes to mine. She comes up for air, her lips ready to say something I’m sure I won’t like.

  “I don’t want to escape you, Maguire, don’t you see this? But if I stay, what we share won’t only destroy us, it will threaten to destroy Scotland.”

  Her words are breathy and hurried. I can almost smell her arousal. I don’t let her speak, my lips finding a route to her neck. I suckle every inch of her skin, when she moans, causing my cock to strain against my jeans. I remove one hand from hers above her head, and work my way up her shirt, her nipples beading from my small little pinches, her body writhing against mine. It’s like it needs to be closer to me, skin on skin as I require right now. I move my hands, only to remove her shirt over her head. Her eyes stay trained on mine.

  “Hands over your head, now,” I demand.

  She obeys as I drop to my knees, pulling down her yoga pants. She steps out of them but I don’t try with the underwear. I rip them off. I’m a man on a mission—making her stay, showing her how great we are together.

  My hand rests right below her mound. The other meanders to her ass. I’m massaging her firm little butt cheek. This initiates a low guttural noise to seep from her lips. My head tips up and her head falls, our eyes connecting. The chemistry she insists on ignoring ripples through the two of us when her own fingers work around her ass, giving me access to her entire rear. A devious smile sneaks onto her face and I’ve been given access to the fucking cookie jar.

  Plunging one finger in her ass, her loud scream is music to my ears, the pleasure that seeps from her lips as the edge of them turn into a full on smile.

  “You’re my naughty girl.” She giggles. “Admit it, you love this, me working both parts of you?”

  Three fingers locate her g-spot and it’s time for more—though her writhing around causes logistical difficulties but I adapt, pushing her farther against the wall with the force of my body.


  My tongue makes contact with her, working my hand to gain access to her clit. Opening her lips, with one swirl against her, her moans intensify. “Tell me you don’t want this, tell me you don’t want me to make you orgasm again and again. Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you.”

  Her hands are in my hair, kneading my scalp with so much fervor, her tone matches mine. “Fuck me, and when you’re done fuck me some more.”

  It’s all I need to stand; picking her up as she wraps her legs around me.

  “Your wish is my every command.”

  What has come over me? I came over to keep things civil between us. Then he’s on his knees suckling my clit and I’m encouraging it with my moans. My legs are now wrapped around his waist as he crosses the threshold to his bedroom and tosses me on the bed.

  “Like it rough, darlin’? Because it’s what you’re getting from me.”

  He’s on his knees again, pulling me to the edge of the mattress.

  “I need you, please, Sarge. Don’t tease me.”

  His finger enters me, but his mouth and head stay put. As I try to close my eyes, his command is clear.

  “Open those pretty eyes, you’re going to watch how we can be—if you only admit it to yourself. Watch me—we’re pretty fucking awesome together.”

  His thumb is on my clit, his fingers reaching the heaven inside of me. “If it takes you watching me slide effortlessly inside of you like your cunt was made for my cock alone, then you’ll do it.” His commands only increase the wetness but he’s not done. “If it takes you standing while I feast on your pussy, your body about to crumble due to the pure gratification I orchestrate inside of you, then I’ll tie you to the wall.”

  Oh, hell. Tie me up? Sign me up!

  “Hell, darlin’, if I have to record us, and send it to you as inspiration for you as you fuck yourself with your vibrator, then I’ll do that, too.” He raises his head to mine. “What the hell do I have to do to make you accept this? We’re better together, than apart.”

  My reply is plain and simple. “Don’t stop, Sarge, don’t stop.” My body writhes as he kisses the inside of my thighs.

  “If you leave, you’ll miss this,” he breathlessly utters, bringing his head up, kissing my neck. “And this.” His breathy whisper finds my earlobe lathering a kiss there. “And this,” he replies, his tongue capturing one of my nipples and then the other one.

  His fingers have never left my pussy, the back and forth motion lulling an orgasm from my already tired body. I begin to shake, my legs begin to quake as an orgasm begins to build and I explode. But he doesn’t let me ride it out. He positions himself at my entrance and thrusts in, but not gently. The more he pushes, the more it hurts, and the more pleasure I gain from the momentum.

  “You’re mine, Holland. You may run, you may try to hide, but at the end of the day, no matter the distance between us, you’ll always belong to me.”

  He pushes harder, my orgasm ending as a new one builds.

  “This is something and yet, this is nothing. We’ve not even begun. If you stay, there’s so much more we can be together. My best friend, my lover, the mother to my children and my wife. You’re it. I don’t care if it’s taboo or forbidden. Love like ours—we’ll never experience it again.”

  His movements are erratic. At times slowing down and sometimes thrusting so deep inside of me, without him, I feel empty. With each new thrust, his hands work another part of my body. Sometimes he finds that sweet spot as he had before with my ass, his tongue working my nipples as they pebble with the need for his licks, suckles, and sometimes the pain of his bite. His other fingers caress my cheek tenderly both fucking me and making love to me at the same time.

  “I love you, Holland Parrish. And I’m not giving you up without a fight.”

  One more thrust inside of me and we both hit the highest of highs at the same time. He falls next to my naked body, pulling me into the bed with him.

  Kissing my forehead, he tips my head to his. “Please promise me—you’re not leaving.”

  I caress his cheek. “For now, just hold me. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

  It’s three a.m. when I crawl out of bed and remember both Scott and Maguire’s name for this time of the day. It’s certainly the devil’s hour as I leave him to wake on his own, not because of the time, but because of me taking the easy way out.

  Grabbing a piece of paper, I write one sentence. It’s all I can stomach.

  Sarge,

  I do love you but love isn’t enough, not for us.

  I quickly slip through the door, making my way back to the remnants of my apartment in the hopes we can skate out of town tomorrow morning without any further dramatics from my father-in-law.

  Chapter 27

  When I reach for Holland’s tiny body, I’m not surprised to find a void on her side. Her slipping out in the middle of the night shouldn’t shock me. After all, her avoidance of answering me when I tried to make her promise not to leave, was an answer in and of itself.

  But I don’t catapult myself out of bed. I stay, planted firmly, attempting to piece together a plan, some large gesture to win her back. But nothing comes. I’m sure there’s some sort of note out there detailing why we can’t be together.

  The bottom line is I want to fight for her, but nothing will ever change her idea the universe is punishing us because of our disrespect of Scott. As his father, I ache for the sound of my son’s voice every day. I don’t know what his thoughts would be. When he asked me in the letter I keep in my nightstand to care for his wife, I’m sure it was without the interference of my cock. I chuckle at my thoughts, knowing I have to find humor in this situation that leaves me utterly breathless and broken.

  Staying holed up in my room all day, not facing her note is something I want to do, but somehow, I need to get my shit together to say goodbye to Scotland. Losing her, the ability to see her daily, makes the loneliness in my heart grow.

  I told Holland I wouldn’t let her go, but I don’t have the fight in me, not anymore, to try to hold onto something that was never truly mine. Pulling on my jeans and brushing my teeth, I face the music, the Dear John letter Holland has left.

  Picking up the note, I’m surprised by the finality and length or lack of length. My mind is on her words. Nothing I can say after last night, forging our two worlds together can convince her. I sit, staring at her loopy cursive handwriting when a knock on the door brings my attention to my best friend, holding my favorite baby in his arms.

  Letting him in out of the cold, Scottie almost jumps for me. At almost eleven months, she’s getting so big and I hold her a little tighter at the thought of missing so much.

  “I was just getting ready to come to see you, little darlin’.”

  She blows me kisses and begins laughing.

  “How’d you get saddled with this?” I ask, looking at Ned.

  “Ah, I can never get saddled with Scottie. I’m gonna miss her sweet face, too.”

  I bring Scottie to the couch as she pulls to get down. The girl loves to scoot on her butt, getting into everything.

  “So…” he begins but he lingers on as though this two letter word is a question.

  I shrug. “I begged her to stay and she left in the middle of the night. I want to fight for her, but I can’t if she’s not willing.”

  He flattens his lips, an almost agonizing wince crossing his face.

  “What, Ned, just say it,” I begin.

  He squares his body with mine. “You fight for something when the odds are against you. You fight for something even if the odds aren’t in your favor. Hell, if Elise hadn’t fought the first time she was diagnosed with cancer, when the odds were against us, I would have lost her so much earlier. But I had almost three more years with her.”

  I agree with everything he says. We’ve had this same conversation before.

  “But she’s convinced we’re disrespecting the memory of Scott. And for this reason,
we’re being punished.”

  “She’s scared. So, sure, she’s leaving for San Francisco today. Maybe she leaves and you follow. You do what it takes to keep her. It may mean you moving to San Francisco. You two need each other. And it may not happen today, but don’t give up, because those extra years with Elise, I’d never trade for anything.”

  We sit, chatting about work details and new lines until Scottie scoots over to me and the second I bring her close to my body, she falls asleep. I take in every little smell of my granddaughter and burn it to memory.

  Maybe Ned’s right, maybe there’s hope for us. I’ll let the distance build for a couple weeks and then surprise her. By then, she’ll have perspective.

  When Ned receives a text from Holland telling him the moving truck is nearly packed, I bring Scottie in for one last hug and watch the taillights of Ned’s truck as he leaves with my girl.

  I’m teetering on many different ideas, driving to Holland’s apartment and demanding her to stay is one of them but I opt to check my mail. Since Christine’s little break-in, I get a notification of all vehicles entering the road to my house. It’s a sensor I bought and installed.

  Seeing the mail truck’s Saturday delivery, I hop in my truck to grab it which I’m positive will be full of mostly junk and bills. I pull on my aviators, the sun is bright, but it’s still awfully chilly. I try to think of anything other than Holland and Scottie on the five hour trip to San Francisco. And I certainly try to forget about them being by themselves in the huge city. Though the silver lining is they’re in the same building as Jase. Who would have thought a year ago I would refer to Jase is a silver lining?

  The mail carrier is pulling away and gives me a little wave when I approach the box and its ram shackled with a bunch of junk. When is the last time I cleared this out?

  It’s such a mess, I bring it back to my truck, sorting through it when an address hits me. It’s not the same number as Scott and Holland’s old house in North Carolina, but it’s the same street. Looking at the return address name, I smile at Mark’s writing. He sends me pictures from time to time of his little girl, Maddie. Opening the envelope, a little note is attached to another envelope and I become motionless, recognizing the chicken scratch Scott called penmanship.