Always (Bold as Love) Page 9

  “Thank you for being here. There is no one else that I rather have by my side.” He squeezes my hand. “I hope you're ready for our future because the days are just going to get better and more thrilling. It's going to be like this forever. You and me, holding hands, side by side. Always.”

  My breathing is rattled as he leans away just a bit so I can look at him. He lazily brings my hand up to his lips, his green eyes never leaving mine, and he presents my skin with a gentle kiss. The moment is demolished as someone begins to speak. Instinctively, our eyes turn to the man standing at the podium, the whirlwind of voices from others in here cease as he talks.

  That feeling of simply existing and not feeling has returned. It's more from an overwhelmed frenzy while we wait for Jake's name to be called. A thousand words graze my mind while we endure those being spoken. A thousand words that could express my joy and love for this man sitting beside me. Sitting here, knowing what is to come, none seem adequate enough. Not a single one can express this feeling.

  “Jake Benson.”

  My ears come alert. I don't know what was said before or after his name. I only heard his precious name. Clapping erupts and Jake stands, tugging me with him. He kisses and hugs me hard, but quick. Elation spreads across his face and it's contagious as he turns to Drake, who is short of freaking out as he high-fives Jake.

  “This is why we came?” he asks.

  Jake nods before leaving us behind to make his way on stage. It's then that my eyes catch sight of that red NHL jersey. My love is going to play for the Chicago Blackhawks. A lone tear streaks my cheek.

  He did it.

  He made it.

  Another tear falls as he puts on his jersey, his smile brightening the entire room when he poses for a picture with the gentlemen around him. It's as if I'm in another world, seeing him on that stage wearing an NHL jersey with his name on it. As I watch the happiness radiate from him, nothing could make me prouder of him than I am right now and when he looks at me, I want to burst. Explode with pleasure and delight.

  Then the moment fades as another team calls another player. The day passes by before I get the chance to absorb every second. There was so much going on that I mostly felt lost. It didn't matter though. I watched Jake throughout as he spoke with others and such. His day to shine has come, and I'm sure more opportunities will arise.

  Drake, on the other hand, was very much involved. He yacked the day away, but I completely understood. Today was just as big for him as it was for Jake. Even afterwards, as we grabbed our bags and checked out from the hotel to head to the airport, time seemed to fly.

  Currently, I'm driving us home. Jake seems to be in his own little world as phone calls from his friends start to pour in with congratulations. Drake is crashed out from the long day in the back seat. We have still have thirty minutes to go before we are home. Silently, I eye my love as he turns off his phone and leans into his seat.

  “Best. Day. Ever.”

  Giggling, I agree. “It's almost over, though,” I comment since the clock glows 11:58 pm.

  Jake sighs, closing his eyes. Within minutes, he's asleep and I'm practically alone on these deserted roads. Of course, I begin to mull on the ramifications of today. Life as we know it has changed. Jake's going to be home for the next week before heading to Chicago. He's got paperwork to do. He has to search for an apartment and go to another camp. If he plays well, he'll be shipped to yet another camp. If I understood correctly, once the team offers a contract, which I'm sure they will, he'll accept it. Then he will play for the NHL.

  When that happens, my love will officially relocate. It's too close to the beginning of the semester to transfer to a university and I've already registered for classes here. I'll be in Charlotte without him. Unless I transfer to a school up there, I won't live with him for another three years at the least. Three years where the majority of our time will be apart. The lump in my throat is telling me to panic. Ms. Negativity in my head is screaming that we'll never last. As I drive into town, the street lamps cause my ring to glint. Jake wouldn't have proposed if he didn't think this was for always. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't believe it either. We're going to make it and when we do, it'll be heaven.

  “Love, we're here,” I say, pulling into the empty driveway.

  Easily, he awakes and wipes his eyes. Once I park the car, he turns around to wake Drake. I go ahead and get out to bring in our bags. Jake sends a half asleep Drake to go unlock the door and head inside to change while he helps me with the luggage. An idea forms as he drops the bags inside his room and leaves to tuck in Drake.

  I hurriedly find his jersey in his suitcase and slip into the adjoining bathroom, locking the door behind me. Before removing all my items of clothing, I brush my teeth for the night and then put on his jersey. The thing is huge. I could wear it as a dress if I wanted.

  “Sweets, you in there?” he still chuckles at calling me Sweets.

  Instead of answering, I open the door and lean against the door frame. He's facing away from me, shirtless and in the process of removing his pants.

  “How do I look?” I ask softly, suddenly shy.

  Jake pivots to look at me, a grin taking over. “Mmm, Sweetness,” a grumble erupts. He ambles over to me, clutching my waist and pulling me to him, his eyes traveling over my body. Looking up at him, his gaze rests.

  “You're going to have to have lots of these things,” I say in a hushed tone.

  His eyes spark with intensity as his voice migrates from deep within his throat. “Why is that?”

  “'Cause you know I'm going to steal some for myself.”

  His smile is one of leisure. Bending down, Jake kisses me delicately. “I can have that arranged. Now, c'mere.” He pulls me to him and then lays me down on his bed, towering above me. “While I love that you are wearing my jersey. This,” he says, tugging the red fabric, “has to go.” Within seconds, I'm naked and Jake is assaulting me with love.

  24

  Jake

  Tonight is a night for us to relax and enjoy the fireworks show. Sweetness is dressed in a pair of short cut-offs and a red tank top. It is one hot July fourth. That's all I have to say as I look at Emily from her head to her toes, which are painted red, white, and blue alternatively. She gives me a quick kiss and says hello.

  Her eyes don't look directly at me and immediately, I know that something isn't right. I take her hand and decide to wait it out. See if the issue resolves itself. Emily is pretty quiet on the ride there and as she stands in front of me as we wait for the fireworks, she leans into me. Wrapping my arms around her, I lean down to whisper into her ear.

  “What's the matter, Sweetness?”

  “Just not feeling well today, love.”

  I kiss the top of her head, sending good vibes her way. I hate it when she doesn't feel well. The sensation of her back against my chest sends heat rippling throughout. It never ceases to amaze me how perfectly she fits me, like puzzles pieces. It's just another thing I love about her and us. Emily swivels in my arms and wraps her own around my neck.

  “Do you love me?”

  “Of course I do. I love you. Always.”

  A small smile captures her lips and she stands on her tip toes to give me a sweet and simple kiss.

  “Y'all are sick, you know that?”

  We look at Drake and laugh.

  “One day Drake, you'll be in the same position and you'll look back and think, 'Damn. They weren't sick after all,'” I tell him.

  “Yeah, right. I'm still convinced all girls, but Emily and Mom, are gross.”

  “Yeah. Mom wasn't gross at all, Drake.”

  It's like a sucker punch to my gut, hearing Drake say that. He hasn't talked about Mom in a long time. Emily squeezes me before turning around as the fireworks explode, leaning into me once more. This fourth feels special and final. As if this is the last fourth I'll spend with Sweetness and Drake here. As if this is the last year of normalcy, which it kind of is. That makes me want to enjoy it even
more.

  To savor the feel of Emily against me, Drake beside me, and the fireworks whistling as they launch into the sky as we celebrate this holiday. I lean to speak into Emily's ear and ask if she wants to spend the night with me.

  “I guess so.”

  Tilting my head, she finally looks at me without really looking at me. “Why do you sound so defeated?”

  “We'll talk about it later. I don't want to tell you now when we can't really hash it out.”

  “But everything is okay, right?” I ask.

  “Yes, everything is just fine.”

  I'm anxious about being home because I want to know what is going on with Sweetness. She's my world and something isn't right, causing my world to be off kilter. Whatever it is, I want to fix it. I want to make her feel better. Make whatever it is go away so I can see her smile again.

  We watched a movie in Drake's room until he fell asleep. Dad's out at who knows where as he has been since Jersey and Emily and I are making our way back to my room. Lying in bed, I have my arms wrapped securely around her as if she might attempt to get out of talking to me. When she doesn't say anything after about five minutes, I do.

  “Sweetness, tell me what's going on.”

  She rolls over, hides in the crook of my neck and whispers, “What are we going to do? If you get the contract, I mean? I've already signed up for classes next semester in Charlotte. You have too.”

  Oh. Okay. That I can handle, and I let out a breath of relief.

  “I would love more than anything for you to come with me. Let's just wait out on the details until we know for sure.”

  “Okay. I promised Dad that I would spend the day with him tomorrow. Can I come over afterwards?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Thanks, love.”

  With that, we drift asleep.

  Drake is waiting anxiously to play a game, and I can't say no. As usual, it is a racing game. We leisurely lay on the floor and race one another. It's a relaxing evening with no worries about anything other than winning or losing to Drake. Emily comes home around 10 and by the sleepy eyes, sluggish movements, and drooping shoulders, I can tell that my Sweetness is exhausted.

  “Time to hit the hay, Drake,” I say. He doesn't huff, sigh, or complain. He does just as I ask and gets ready for bed. The night feels off as everything seems to be falling too perfectly in place. Entering my room, Sweetness is already in bed with her eyes closed. She's laying in the fetal position with her hands together, resting under her cheeks. Closing the door behind me, I lift my shirt up and over my head, tossing it on the floor carelessly. Next, I unbutton my shorts and let them fall to the floor. Stepping out of them, I crawl into bed beside Emily. I feel content, even though my dad is out there somewhere instead of being home. Within seconds, she snuggles up to me and begins subtly to cry.

  “What's wrong, Sweetness?”

  “Nothing,” she sniffles. “I just felt like crying a bit. Love you,” she finishes in a whisper as she finds her favorite spot.

  “I love you too. Always, Sweetness.” My hands move up and down her back. The motion is so soothing that it sways me to sleep.

  “Jake! Wake up! There's an officer at the door asking for you.” Bolting upright at the sound of Drake's voice, I'm out of bed in one swift motion. Hurriedly, I put on some shorts and then take two steps at a time as I go downstairs. Sure enough, an elderly cop is at my door.

  “Can I help you?” I ask.

  “This is the Benson residence, correct?” I nod. “Where's your mother?” he asks, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “She died a couple of years ago.”

  “Are you the oldest one here then?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Mind if I come in?”

  “Um, sure,” I say as I lead the officer to the living room. He pulls at his pants legs before taking a seat on the couch with a sigh. Drake is standing beside the recliner that I'm currently sitting in.

  “I need to speak with you alone,” the cop says as he looks pointedly at Drake.

  “Sure. Drake, go upstairs and wake Emily up. I'll call you down when our guest leaves and when breakfast is ready.”

  Drake obediently does so.

  “Son,” the officer begins grimly, my stomach immediately tying into knots, “I have some bad news for you. We received a call this morning that reported a car crash on East Center. It was your father. We transported him to the hospital, but he was already gone. I'm sorry for your loss.”

  My mind revs into overdrive as the officer explains that alcohol could be to blame and that the Department of Social Services would be by later today to discuss options for Drake. How am I going to explain to Drake that not only is Mom dead, but Dad is too? What am I going to do now? Every plan that I have for my future rushes in my head, and I'm overwhelmed.

  In autopilot mode, I see the officer out and when I turn around, Emily is standing in front of me. By the sad look in her eyes, I can tell that she heard everything. My arms wrap around her and this time, it is me who buries my face in her neck, tears dripping from my eyes slowly. At this point, I don't even feel like thinking. It's too much to take in at once.

  “Everything will be okay. We'll figure this out together. I'm so sorry.”

  But I don't want her pity, her sorrow, or her condolences. My sadness and feeling of being overwhelmed end abruptly by turning to rage. I can't believe my father would do this. The end of a liquor bottle was more important than his family. Family is something I cherish so much and apparently, that didn't mean shit to him. He can say that he drank because of me, but really it was because he couldn't handle his own feelings. Now, I'm stuck being in charge once again to provide for my family.

  I don't want to let go of Emily nor direct my anger at her, so I hold her close and punch the wall behind her. The action is swift and causes Emily to jump.

  “I'm sorry,” I whisper into her hair.

  “What's going on? Why did you hit the wall?” Drake's voice, full of that sickening, scared little kid's voice, breaks my heart. I walk over to him, take his hand, and walk him to the couch where we take a seat.

  “Drake, I have some bad news. Dad was in a car accident.”

  “Is he okay? Is that why you are sad? He'll be okay, right, Jake? Dad has to be okay. He has to be okay. He's okay, right?”

  Tears brim edge of his eyes, just waiting for me to push them over the cliff. “He's not okay. Buddy, he didn't make it.”

  Drake gets up and runs upstairs. Seconds later, we hear a door slam shut. Emily comes up behind me and wraps her arms around my neck.

  “I'll go talk to him,” she whispers as if the air around us is so fragile that any louder, she would break everything to pieces. I want to tell her no. I want her to stay here with me, but my brother needs her too. Sweetness kisses my cheek and soon, the heat of her arms escapes me.

  Collapse.

  There is no other word that describes my actions than collapse. My wall of inner strength tumbles to the ground, leaving my wounds open for the world to worsen. Every time I turn around, something new has occurred to stab me, trying its damnest to puncture my happiness. I'm barely hanging on. Life keeps throwing stones and there's only so much damage that my body can take. There's no doubt that Emily and I have dodged a few pretty big bullets, but this is a thick bullet that pierces my heart, taking chunks of it as it passes through.

  What am I going to do now?

  25

  Emily

  Drake is lying face down on his bed, crying his poor little eyes out. He sits up and hugs me as soon as I sit on the edge of the bed.

  “I don't want Dad to be dead,” he whines into my shirt.

  “Me either, buddy, but everything will be okay.”

  “No, it won't.”

  I just hold this scared kid in my arms. It's Drake's next words that catch me completely off guard.

  “This is all my fault.”

  “What? Drake, it is not your fault.”

  “Yes, it is! My stoma
ch told me to tell Dad not to leave because something bad would happen and I ignored it. It's all my fault.”

  Whether I should say this or not, I'm unsure, but I'll be damned if this youngin' is going to blame himself for his father's mistakes. “Drake, if anyone should be blamed, it's your father. He was driving drunk and that's why he wrecked. It's his own fault, not yours.”

  He doesn't reply, but instead he simply sniffles. Wrapping my arms around him, I once again assure him everything will work out, it's not his fault, and Jake and I love him.

  “I know you do. I mean, I'm awesome and all,” he smiles slightly, but his words are dead from humor.

  “Yes, you are. I'm going to go check on your brother. Holler if you need either of us.”

  “Okay.”

  Downstairs, I find my love with his head hanging in his hands, sitting in the exact same spot in which I left him. Sitting down beside him, I gather his hands in mine to make him look at me. His eyes are so sad that I can hardly stand it.

  “I love you,” I whisper as I kiss his knuckles. It's the only thing I can think of doing. Jake takes his hands from mine and wraps me in a hug.

  “I love you too,” he says with a strained, raspy voice. Those strong, sturdy arms of his squeeze me tightly. So tightly that it starts to hurt.

  “Jake, you're hurting me. Let up just a little.”

  “Sorry,” he says, releasing me completely.

  “You didn't have to let go,” I say softly, nudging his shoulder before he gets the chance to return to his previous position. How can I help him? I rub his back, my fingers gliding over his muscles and back bone, hoping that soothes him as much as it relaxes me when he does it to me.

  “What am I going to do, Sweetness?” Jake's deep voice rasps out in an almost choking manner.

  “Hey,” I draw softly, “I'm right here with you too. You know that. Let's call my dad and see what he says.”

  “No,” Jake stops my hand with his from reaching for the house phone.