Forever My Girl (The Beaumont Series) Read online

  The weather is colder than I remember. I hope my maid packed me the appropriate clothes. Sam is having a new suit sent to my hotel. She wanted to come with me for moral support, but I declined. I don’t need her. I don’t want her here. Just in and out I told her. Except I left a few days earlier than scheduled because I need time to see her.

  Even if it’s just to look at her from across the street, I need the extra time to remind myself why I gave up college and her dreams to spend countless days in a cramped studio and sleepless nights traveling in a bus across the country. I need the vision of her to drive the point home that I made the right decision for me, regardless of how much I hurt her.

  I need to know if she’s moved on, I hope that she has. How many kids does she have and what does her husband do for a living? I only hope he treats her better than I ever did because she deserves it and so much more.

  Pulling into the Holiday Inn just outside of Beaumont, I shut off my bike before the manager comes out to tell me I’m disturbing the peace. With the kickstand down and my helmet off, I slip on a pair of fake eyeglasses and pull a baseball cap down low. I know word will spread once I step foot into Beaumont, but for a few days I’d like to be anonymous. I slide my arms into my weather proof guitar case and unhook my bag from the back of my bike.

  The walk to the lobby is painstakingly long. This hotel isn’t far off the highway and the noise is very present. This is most unassuming hotel and one people wouldn’t think to look for me. I remember when I told Sam to book my room here I thought I killed her with just the words of a three star Notel Motel. Yet here I am walking into a commoner lobby with the TV blaring and stale coffee sitting in the pot next to this morning’s donuts.

  “How can I help you?” The clerk is speaking even before I’m in the door. Her voice is high-pitched and annoying; a sharp and painful reminder of nails across the blackboard. Her hair is pulled back so tight that her face has no option but to smile. Her lips are painted Hollywood red. I want to hand her a Kleenex and tell her that guys in Hollywood really don’t go for the whole lipstick thing because it’s evidence.

  But I don’t. I don’t say hi or even smile at her. I just want to get to my room and maybe sleep a little. “I need to check in,” I tell her. I hand her my driver’s license and wait. My fingers start tapping on the counter as she types my name into the computer. Each time she looks up at me and smiles, I want to step back. Someone ought to tell her that she wears too much make-up and if she pulls her hair any tighter she’ll be bald.

  “Is Mr. Westbury your dad? He’s the professor for my poli-sci class,” she asks with a hopeful gleam in her eye. I shake my head no even though the answer is probably yes. I wouldn’t know since he hasn’t spoken to me since I dropped out of college.

  “Oh, well that’s too bad. He’s a really great professor.”

  “Lucky you,” I say. Her face deadpans at my lack of enthusiasm.

  “If there's anything I can do for you just let me know,” she says back in her high-pitched annoying and very childish voice. She sets the keycards down on the counter and asks me to fill out the car registration slip. I write down only the pertinent information, avoiding the make and model of my bike. They don’t need to know.

  I pick up the key cards and head to the elevator. When I step in, I look at the card and sigh. I’m on the sixth floor, the highest one they have, but not high enough for me. This will have to do and it’s only short term. I’m just here to say goodbye to Mason and stare at her for a bit before returning to my life.

  The hallway reeks. That is the first thing I notice when I step out of the elevator. That and the ugly ass carpet lining the halls. I despise the smell of stale smoke. I push into my room, dropping my bag onto one of the double beds. I walk over to the sliding glass door, throw open the thick dark curtains and stare out at the lights of Beaumont. I flick the latch and open the door, stepping out into the chilled air.

  The sound of breaking glass causes me to look left. Immediately, I wish I hadn’t because just off in the distance is the water tower Mason and I, along with a few others, used to climb after our games. We’d take a case of beer up there, leave the girls down at the bottom and see who could hit the bed of my truck with their empty bottles.

  “Looks like someone is carrying on our tradition,” I say to no one.

  “Mase, come down here. I’m lonely,” Katelyn yells up at him.

  The laughter between us and the girls is just enough to keep a constant flow of noise in the air.

  “I love you baby,” Mason yells through cupped hands.

  “I’m going to marry that girl and make beautiful babies with her.” We start laughing, but I know it’s true. Katelyn walks on water where Mason is concerned. I know the feeling. I look down and see the silhouette of my girl standing by my truck, my letterman jacket making me jealous because it’s wrapped around her. But this is tradition.

  “I know man,” I say, patting him on the back.

  “Double wedding,” he shouts as I spew my beer out into the open air.

  “Dude, you’re a dude. You aren’t supposed to talking about weddin’s and shit.” Jerad says before chugging his beer.

  Mason shrugs. “When you love someone, you just know.”

  Nothing is the same and everything could’ve been just like it was planned out. Mason’s not supposed to be gone. If anything, it should be me. I screwed up the plan.

  I step back into the room, closing the door and pulling the curtains closed. When I look at the bed, it’s mocking me, telling me I’m uninvited. It doesn’t want me as much as I don’t want it.

  I can’t stay here. This room is going to suffocate me. I get rid of my disguise and grab my jacket and helmet. Maybe riding will clear my head, but then again, maybe not. The last time I went on an unplanned road trip I made a life-altering decision.

  The red exit sign above the staircase is more inviting than the elevator. I slam my shoulder into the door and rush down the stairs, sliding down the railing just like I did when I was younger, something I haven’t done in a long time.

  My helmet is on before I reach the lobby. The last thing I want is the receptionist tart getting any ideas about who I am. My luck, she’d let herself into my room, lie on the bug infested bedspread and wait for me to claim her.

  I’ll pass.

  “Do you need a wake-up call?” she asks as I rush through the lobby. Is she serious? I pull out my phone and look at the time, it’s after midnight.

  I shake my head. “I’m good,” I say as I throw open the door and head for my bike.

  There is nothing like the roar of an engine. The vibration alone comforts me. I spin the throttle before kicking my bike into gear and tear out of the parking lot. I can feel her watching me, I’d bet anything she’s licking her lips with excitement.

  With no destination in mind I stick to the back roads. The less traffic the better. Just me and the road and the looming sun threatening to rears its ugly head for yet another day of bullshit.

  I’m shocked when I hit the Beaumont line. Well, not really. I’ve been thinking about this town non-stop since I learned about Mason. The town is quiet, wrought iron lights lighting the path through the streets.

  Nothing has changed.

  I slow down as I make my way through town. Turn left, turn right and end up on the street I grew up on. When I stop in front of my childhood home, one light on outside and one on inside, I know my dad’s awake.

  Nothing has changed.

  The two-story white house with the red door is the same. No cars in the driveway, lawn manicured to perfection. My room is dark and I wonder what they did with it. Are my pictures still lining the hallway or did those come down when I betrayed them in the worse way? What will they say when their defiant son knocks on the door and wants to stay for dinner?

  I drive two blocks down and one over and stop in front of the Preston house. I’m not a fool to think she still lives here, but I know she wouldn’t miss this unless she and Kate
lyn are no longer friends.

  The porch light flips on and the door opens. Mr. Preston, the man who was to be my father-in-law, steps out onto the porch. I know he can’t see me through my darkened helmet, but maybe he’s wondering.

  He stands there and stares at me and I at him. He’s aged, just like I’m assuming my father has. He steps down onto the grass and that’s my cue to go. I hit the throttle and take off down the street, leaving Mr. Preston in his yard wondering.

  CHAPTER 4

  JOSIE

  I pull into the driveway of Katelyn and Mason’s modest ranch home, matching pink tricycles sitting in the yard. I can’t bring myself to get out of the car. It’s like accepting the inevitable. I know nothing will bring back Mason or change what has happened, but maybe I can prolong it just a little bit longer.

  “Aunt Joey what are you doing?” I jump at the little voice that snuck up on me. Peyton is staring at me, standing by the passenger side of the car. Her dark curly hair is in pigtails tied with ribbons and her toothless grin lights my day.

  “Nothing, sweetie, just thinking,” I say as I get out of the car and walk around to where she’s standing. She’s in her Sunday football jersey and sweatpants and has a football tucked under her arm. She’s every bit Mason.

  “Where’s Noah?”

  “He’s at school.”

  Her face falls as she looks down at the ground. Her little sneaker-clad foot starts swinging back and forth. “Mama says we don’t have to go to school until after.” Her voice trails off.

  I fight back the tears as my heart breaks for her and her sister. They only got five years with their dad and will only remember one if they’re lucky. I bend down in front of her and wipe a stray tear off her cheek. “Noah can come over after school before he goes to practice, okay?”

  She nods and I bring her into my arms, carrying her into her once-happy home.

  This is my first time in the Powell home since the night we got the call. I came over here to stay with the girls while Katelyn was in the hospital waiting for a sign that Mason was going to make it. I paced the floor, the same floor they paced when the girls had colds or the flu and kept them up at night.

  The same floor that Mason dumped a plate full of chicken when he tripped over the bag of footballs he forgot to put away after practice. Katelyn and I laughed so hard. When he stood up Mason had chicken grease all over his face. One look from him and Katelyn knew he was coming after her.

  I set Peyton down and kiss her on the forehead. I don’t even know how to comfort her and her sister, let alone her mom.

  “Where’s your sister?” I ask.

  Peyton shrugs. “With mama, I guess.”

  “Aunt Joey who is going to watch football with me now?” her voice breaks as she asks the simplest question of all.

  Usually I have an answer for everything, but when I look into her eyes I don’t know what to say to her because there isn’t an answer. It could be me one week or Mr. Powell, but it will never be Mason. He was her football buddy and she his.

  “I’m sure Nick would love to and even Noah. Maybe your Grandpa can come over on Sundays.”

  “It’s not the same,” she whispers before leaving me in the middle of the room surrounded by nothing but memories, once in a lifetime moments captured by a real life lens and frozen in the past. And sometimes that's not enough. Any memories made now won't have Mason.

  “Hey.” I turn to find Katelyn behind me. Her hair is pulled back in a sloppy bun and she’s wearing one of Mason’s shirts. I can’t hold back the tears and choke on a sob as I rush to hold her. She cries into my chest, her sobs shattering my reserve.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say softly to her. Her hands are clutching at my shirt as she fights to control herself. She was there for me when my world fell apart and I’m going to be there for her, even if it kills me.

  When she pulls back I wipe her tears just like I did for Peyton. “You seemed okay yesterday,” I say trying to remind her that she is having a few good moments.

  “Yesterday I didn’t have to make any decisions except what color flowers I wanted. Today I have to pick a casket and bring…” she takes a deep breath, covering her face with her hands. Her diamond engagement ring is sparkling as it catches the sunlight. “I have to pick out his last outfit and I don’t know what he’d want to wear.”

  This is something I can’t even imagine. I wouldn’t know what to do. When things changed for me I wanted to die, but Katelyn and Mason held me together. They were my glue. The love of my life didn’t die, he just decided I was no longer what he needed in life and went away. I didn’t have to bury him or clean out his office. He took my heart with him when he shut the door.

  “I think maybe you should ask the girls what they want him to wear. Let them help you because you are going to need them to get through all of this. I know Peyton is worried about who will watch football with her on Sunday.”

  “I know,” she sighs heavily. “Elle wants to know who is going to tuck her in at night because no one does it like daddy.”

  I pull her back into my arms and hold my friend. There are no words that I can say that will solve this dilemma for her, only time will. But time hurts.

  Katelyn takes my advice and asks the twins to help pick out their dads final outfit. When they come out, the three of them are holding a mismatch of clothes. Katelyn shows me a pair of dark slacks. Peyton holds up his coaching shirt and Elle shows me the shoes he’ll be buried in, one cleat and one tennis shoe. I crack a smile which causes them all to laugh.

  It’s perfect and so very Mason.

  The drive to the funeral home is quiet. Katelyn plays with her rings, much like she did when she got engaged. I look down at my bare hand, and wonder when Nick will slip a ring on my finger. There doesn’t need to be an announcement; people expect it. Nick and I have been together for six years. It was time to make a decision. A man like Nick isn’t going to wait around forever. Everyone says he’s a catch because he’s the one of us who really made something out of his education and they’re right. I’d be stupid not to marry the town’s pediatrician.

  Picking out a casket is a lot harder than it seems. You can pick the type of wood, inlay and the color. All things that Katelyn had to decide while sitting in an office that smells like dead people.

  Katelyn has to pick music, programs and list the pall bearers. I watch as she writes down the names, leaving the sixth spot blank.

  “You forgot one,” I point out.

  She shakes her head. “Just in case,” she says. She doesn’t have to explain what she means, I know who she’s referring to, but I don’t want to think about… him.

  After I drop her off, I head home. Noah should be back from school and I just want to hug him until I’m reasonably certain he’s never going to leave me.

  “Noah?” I call as I enter the house. The TV is on and I find him lying on the couch. He’s watching an old game film of Mason and Nick from high school. I hear that familiar name and look down at Noah, running my fingers through his hair. “What’s going on, buddy?”

  “Just watching,” he says, curling into my hand.

  I sit down and cuddle him into my lap. I love that he is still my little boy when I need him to be.

  “You look so funny, mom.” He starts laughing. I pull his hair and pinch his ear just so I can continue to hear his giggles.

  “Just wait until you’re my age and we watch your videos.”

  “Anyone home?”

  “In here,” I yell as Nick comes into the house. He takes one look at what we’re watching and scoots in behind me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

  “Why are we watching this?” he whispers into my ear. I shrug and motion toward Noah. Nick knows I’d never put this in, watching these highlights does nothing but open old memories.

  Noah continues to laugh at me and Nick about how funny we looked in high school. Each time I remind him that I have naked baby pictures of him and I’ll be showing them to all his girl
friends.

  Beaumont wins the game and that’s my cue to turn it off. I search for the remote, panic setting in. I don’t want to see what’s at the end.

  “Mom, who are you kissing?”

  I look at the screen and see the boy that haunts my dreams and reality. He turns and faces the camera, his arm slung around me. When I see his blue eyes I bite my lip. I’ve been thinking about him more and more since Mason died, and I wonder if he’s happy. I get up and turn off the TV so I don’t have to look at him anymore.

  “He’s no one, baby.” I say as I leave the room.

  CHAPTER 5

  LIAM

  Driving through town last night was a mistake. Stopping in front of the Preston house was an utter lapse in judgment. I was surprised to find that Mr. Preston was awake, let alone willing to come outside and stare down a stranger on a motorcycle, especially one dressed in all black.

  The walls of this hotel room are closing in and fast. I should’ve stayed farther out of town where I could at least have a suite with space to move. I need to pace and think. Think about what I’m going to do when I see her. I just want to look. I need to know that she’s okay and happy. That she’s moved on with her life and I’m nothing but a blip on her radar.

  Maybe she buys my music because she can say she once knew me, a long time ago. I’ve pictured her many times standing in the line at the grocery store holding People or Rolling Stone when I’m on the cover. I want to think that she’s read the articles and seen me talk about her without actually saying her name. That she’s created a playlist on her iPod of all the songs that are about her, that she knows I’ve never stopped loving her.

  I pound my fists into my head. “You’re so stupid, Liam. She doesn’t fucking care about you. You left her and changed your number so you wouldn’t have to listen to her crying on your voicemail.”

  I have to get out of this hotel because staying here just reminds me of her and the night we lost our virginity to each other and it’s driving me insane.