Her Soldier (That Girl #3) (17 page)

I know everyone is staring at me and waiting for an answer, but I don’t know what answer they are expecting. The lady is wearing a large diamond on her ring finger, and I study it as her hand rests on the top of the sheet. She’s ready to pull it down and only waiting on my nod. I give her a nod, but I’m sure it was more of a tremble. The blue sheet glides down the body of the person, and I follow its movement, skipping over the face. The sheet rests at the forearms of the body, and instantly I recognize Danielle’s favorite paisley apron covering her front, and then her charm bracelet I gave her last year on Mother’s day. Howls come from somewhere in the room. The voice is yelling, “No, no, no, no,” and sounds very sad and desperate.

My heart aches for the person in such despair, but my eyes continue to roam up to Danielle’s lifeless face. She looks like she is sleeping, and the voice filling the room quiet downs a bit. I release the hands holding mine and rush to Danielle’s side. My hands comb through her hair because it was my favorite thing to do growing up. I kiss her cheek, and that’s when I realize it’s my voice screaming.

Her skin is cold. I grab for her hands, and they, too, are a bit swollen and cold, but I grab on to her and vow to never let go. Running my fingers through her hair over and over, I talk to her just like I would any other time. I want to be with her. I want her to talk back to me.

The lady and officer ask for an official yes, and I hear Levi speak up, but I don’t let go and I don’t stop talking to her.

Hands pry me from her and my screams grow louder. Leaving her in the room and on that table is like saying goodbye forever. I can’t do it. I just can’t do it. Jazzy has a water bottle up to my lips and is pushing pills into my mouth. Levi scoops me up into his arms, and I continue to scream and fight to get loose. Finally I give up and just sob into his chest. Loud, ugly tears flow from me as he makes his way back down the hallway. Conversations drift from the office doors as Levi passes, and I die a little on the inside with each of his steps.

Chapter 16

The grass is green and the sun is shining brightly in the clear sky. Cheerful birdsongs fill the air, and I sit here empty, staring out my bedroom window. On the day of a funeral, there’s always supposed to be a storm brewing with dark, heavy rainclouds lurking around, mirroring what each griever feels inside. Not today.

Today I bury my aunt next to her mother, Ladore. To my shock, she had her whole burial planned out and her will down to a fine science. She left everything to me, from the bakery, the coffee shop, her house, her car, and even time-shares. I don’t want any of it. I couldn’t care less about the business and her money, because I only want her back in my life. Jazzy has reassured me this is a normal feeling, and it too shall pass, and one day I’ll deal with her belongings in a way I see fit.

Jazzy has been by my side through everything. One thing I appreciate is she doesn’t sugarcoat shit and reassures me it will never get easier to live without a loved one, and you never get used to it, but rather go through the actions of day-to-day life with an empty space inside you. She said she still has her empty space inside from the loss of her baby and father, and the only thing that’s helped her function and keep going in life is the love from Levi.

***

I never realized how many friends Aunt Danielle had until the church fills up. Several faces I recognize, and others I don’t, and I’m only to assume they are customers of hers. Vibrant flowers fill the front of the church next to her casket. I read the first few cards, but the task of keeping track became overwhelming.

“I’ll be right back.” I rise in the family and loved ones’ waiting area and quickly escape, staring down at my patent leather heels the whole way.

Walking out into the sunshine, I sit on the top step and wonder how I will ever get through my speech. The pastor offered to read her obituary and any write-up the family offered and play the slideshow. My heart told me she deserved so much more, and I wanted to share those memories. It was the least I could for all the countless nights she held my hand and got me through life. I let the sun soak into my skin and try to relax. Moments pass with my eyes closed. The sound of passing traffic, a lawnmower, and some far off birds fill my senses.

“It’s time, Jenni.”

Turning back, I see Lynlee standing with the large mahogany door held open. Her hand looks freakishly small compared to the overbearing cast iron handle. I’ve found myself focusing on everything and anything besides the reality I should really be facing. My new hobby is mindlessly staring at odd objects such as the elegant cast iron Lynlee’s hand is on. I think it’s a coping technique, and I know I need to stop, but can’t seem to make myself.

“They’re just waiting on you, Jenni.”

I know Lynlee is being polite, and God bless her patience with me, so I throw my right hand up and wait for her to take it. We make our way back through the church and into the family room. I never let go of her and it’s not an accident.

“Walk with me,” I whisper into her ear.

I’m not sure if I can make these next steps on my own and know I’ll need my sisters with me. Lincoln and Levi are pallbearers along with some of Aunt Danielle’s childhood friends. As we exit the room I see them standing next to her casket in the opposite foyer. Each man has a hand on the brass railing, ready to carry her in.

Hand in hand, the three of us walk side by side down the aisle to the front pew. We remain standing as the music begins and the men carry the casket sprayed in fresh flowers. If I thought I was numb before, I take my place to a faraway land where no emotions can win any battle. Jazzy has been constantly by my side with pills to help me physically get through this. If only they made one to heal a broken heart.

The girls don’t let go of my hand as we sit, and soon I notice both men taking a seat by their wives. I listen to the pastor give the prayer and begin to speak about being Christian and Christ, but yet again I find my eyes are fixated on the ivory candle atop the piano. I hear the noise, but don’t process any of the words until I hear him speak my name.

“Jenni, Danielle’s niece, and very favorite person in this world would like to take the time to speak in her aunt’s remembrance today.” The older pastor adjusts his tie as he continues. “I’ve gotten to know Jenni more from the last few days, but I felt like I already knew her from all the stories her aunt told about her. I’m sure several of you heard them as well. She always started out with ‘that darn girl of mine.’”

The pastor continues to talk as my throat tightens with sheer panic.

“I can’t do this.”

Jazzy and Lynlee squeeze my hands tighter and then pull me to a standing position. The pastor is finished speaking and has stepped aside, leaving the podium wide open for me. The silver microphone catches my attention and is my new fixation. The girls guide me to the bottom stair and then nudge me on.

“You can do this.” Jazzy places a kiss on my forehead and gestures the way with her hand.

“She’d be so proud, Jenni.”

Lynlee kisses the other cheek as her tears stream freely down her face.

Focusing in on the black trim around the head of the microphone, I make my up to the stand. Looking back, I notice Jazzy and Lynlee are firmly planted at the bottom of the stairs, focused on me. Reaching for the microphone, I adjust it and take a breath. I keep my eyes focused on the sliver stand.

It takes me several moments to be able to speak.

“Than…”

I try a couple more times before the hollow lump in my throat is gone. It’s not a confident voice, but all I worry about is that sound is coming out.

“Thank you for coming today. My Aunt Danielle was a very kind and loving person. As Pastor Jones said, she loved to tell stories, and I can assure you she told me plenty about all of you.” My eyes analyze the line running up the silver part of the microphone stand. I’m not yet brave enough to look up into the audience, so clutching my paper, I begin to read.

“My aunt took me in as her own. However, she loved me from a very young age and was always my role model, telling me I could do anything I set my sights to. She is the one person on the face of the Earth who truly made me feel special. To me, she was my hero. She instilled in me confidence and a desire to be better in life. The kid who no one wanted. The kid who drove adults nuts with her hyperactivity. The kid who couldn’t sit still. The kid who never shut up. She loved that kid and made me feel loved.”

The eulogy on my page ends, and I suddenly feel embarrassed by the little that I wrote. When writing the words, I meant each one of them whole-heartedly. A loud cough in the back of the church draws my attention and a sea of people come into view. Their grieving faces do something to me and I just begin to talk while looking directly at them.

“One thing that would really piss my aunt off was using her steak knives to open packages. I knew this, but call me a kid at heart, I was always so excited to open a package that I’d grab the closest utensil. If she ever caught me she’d chase me around with a wooden spoon. Hell, even just a month ago she was chasing me around the kitchen.” 

A bout of laughter fills the church and I continue telling stories.

“I’m sure my aunt isn’t shocked that I’m standing up here talking. She always did tell me I have the gift of gab. I guess I just want to leave you with how truly patient Danielle was. I tested her patience from childhood until now. From painting on walls that weren’t supposed to be painted with fingernail polish, to never deciding on a career. She’d always just shake her head at me and say, ‘One day you’ll bloom, my li’l tulip.’ Never once was she ever disappointed in me, and let me just say I’ve done a lot of foolish stuff in my life.”

My voice begins to crack with my next words. Pausing a second, I inhale and try to relax, but every single muscle in my throat constricts. The more I try to relax, the tougher it is to breathe.

“How do…”

I’m gasping for air and am forced to stop speaking. Jazzy and Lynlee are at my side, holding on to me. Their faces reassure me, and I try again to calm down. I force through the tears and my tightening throat.

“How do you let go of someone who loved you with no boundaries? How do you live without the love of the one person who saw you for you? I want to know how I’m ever supposed to live again without her love.”

My chest gives out a wracking sob with my last word, and this pause takes longer than the first. I let go of all my anger and hurt surrounding my heart and talk freely for the first time in my life.

“I always thought my Aunt Danielle loved me because she felt bad for me. I thought she filled my head with silly dreams because no one else was there, but as I stand here today I finally understand the gift she gave me. All these years she was trying to teach me to love myself. I’ll walk on in life with that. Her gift of love. Thank you.”

I sag with relief as I leave the podium. I lean on Jazzy and Lynlee because there’s no possible way I could walk on my own. Every word I spoke was nothing but the truth. We sit back down and I lean my head on Jazzy’s shoulder as the slideshow begins to play. Pictures of Aunt Danielle from her youth pass by, some by herself and some with my father. Their happy faces from their childhood fill the screen, and I notice there are not many of my aunt in her teen years or early adulthood.

It skips straight to my baby pictures and her either in the background or holding me. It shows every stage of my life with my sweet aunt by my side. I smile at some of the memories, and others make me cry harder.

“She really loved you,” Jazzy says.

My freshman year picture flashes up, standing in front of the bakery with Danielle and my first set of wheels.

“That dress, though,” Levi says.

All of us on the front bench begin to chuckle at his words, and clearly my choice in apparel, because it was hideous, but I remember begging her for that outfit. I had to stuff over three dozen cream filled doughnuts for it. The slideshow ends on a picture of Danielle in her bakery, smiling proudly with me sitting on the counter in way too short shorts.

“I want to go home.”

Chapter 17

The days have passed slowly. My heart still hurts and Danielle is still dead. I’ve slept in her bed for the last couple weeks just so I can surround myself with her scent. I made the executive decision to keep the bakery closed, along with the coffee shop excusing all employees. Quality work was the heart of Danielle’s business, and I know I couldn’t live up to it in this state. I’ve managed to make it to the grocery store and over to Lynlee’s one night for dinner.

Returning home was the worst experience ever and the most severe panic attack I’ve ever had. I took some pills and had a glass of wine, and they worked like magic. Night after night, I’ve been able to cope with just a couple glasses of wine. It seems like a miracle when my feelings want to start talking.

I find my way to my Danielle’s closet and sit on the floor. It’s my favorite place in the morning, and it’s where her scent is the strongest. I always have my favorite mug, which she used to drink hot coffee from every morning. Staring at her clothes, I know it’s time for the next step. I just don’t know what the next step is. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get rid of her clothes or any of her belongings, but I know it’s time to move on.

I need to decide what I want for the future, and I think it’s time I try to run the bakery and the coffee shop. I don’t have the training or knowledge needed, but I will fight to keep it open. Time is all I have on my hands, so I might as well put it to good use.

The closet is dark with no ray of sun peeking in the open door, so I know it’s still very early. Sleep is another thing that seems to escape me. I haven’t replaced my cellphone, which drives my friends nuts, but it hasn’t been on my priority list.

Walking out into the bedroom, I see the six forty-five on the alarm clock and decide on a hot shower, really hoping the steam will give me the willpower to push through today and finally make my way to the bakery. I want it.

The water is refreshing as it beats down on my skin, and I find myself turning the water so hot it’s almost painful. Fully awake, I begin to wash away my worry and try to convince myself everything will be okay today.

When I turn off the water, I hear the telephone ring and don’t rush to get it. It rings once and then twice before it stops, and I giggle because I know it’s Jazzy. She calls every morning, only letting it ring twice before hanging up. She says it’s her way of letting me know I’m always on her mind and that her door is open to me.

I act like it’s a silly little thing, but deep down it means everything to me. In fact, I’ve lain in bed several mornings waiting for those two rings before even daring to get up. The unique tone of the ringing has become my reassurance that another day will come and go, and I will still be here.

Keys, another mug of coffee, and I’m off to my first adventure as a business owner. Fuck, I still need to sign those papers. Aunt Danielle’s lawyer keeps calling and leaving messages for me to come to the office and sign the final papers. I avoid it.

The kitchen is quiet and peaceful. I never spend much time in here because it was always Danielle’s favorite place to be, even in her own home. So, I scurry over to the rack holding several keys and try to remember which set was the backup to the bakery. I’m sure her old ones are still at the bakery. When Lynlee dropped off her belongings, I don’t remember seeing a pair of keys.

The neon green keychain jars my memory, so I grab them and another cup of coffee and make my way to the garage. Rushing out the door with one free hand, my jacket snags on the doorframe, pulling me back and causing my elbow to slam into the white molding and my coffee to spill on the bare skin of my leg. The pain from my elbow is sharp and steady, but it’s the sting of the burn causing the most hurt.

I push the garage door opener on the inside of the car and nothing happens. Pushing it again, nothing. This time I slam it with my free hand as hard as possible, and nothing.

“Are you freakin’-ass, mother-truckin’ serious right now?”

My loud voice frightens me. Marching straight through the house and out the front door, I go for the keypad located outside the garage. I’ve got this shit show, and I’m about to make it my bitch. I’ve entered this garage more than once using the key code because my keys were nowhere to be found.

Quickly and very pissed off, I punch in the numbers four, six, six, seven and then slam enter. The gyrating vibration of the door rising surrounds me as my leg kicks upward toward the stubborn fucking door. I’m late on my kick and my knee slams into the bottom of the rising garage door.

“Ow. Ow. Owie. Oh, good gravy, that freakin’-ass hurt.” Bouncing around on one steady leg, the remaining hot coffee tumbles onto my shirt, scalding my chest. It’s the final straw and I blow. I send the mug sailing to the cement pad, screaming. A delicate terracotta pot sitting to my left on the windowsill is in my hands before I know it, and I hurl it to the ground as well.

“Why? Why?” I scream.

My arm sweeps across the remaining pots on the windowsill, sending them into the air. My arm cocks back, ready to punch out the window as the sting from the coffee subsides on my skin.

Before I have the chance to put my fist through the window, two strong arms wrap around me. I fight them and scream louder, asking the heavens why and begging and pleading for my life back. The grip grows tighter as my fight increases.

“Let go of me, Levi.” He doesn’t respond, making me even more violent.

I fight like hell to break loose from his hold. He’s had to stop me in the past, but not today. Not on the day I decided to make an effort. Not on the day when everything fell to shit. He doesn’t get to save me this time.

“Let me fucking go, now.”

He doesn’t say a word and only pulls me in tighter as I thrash against his hold. My elbows desperately struggle to land a blow to his ribcage, but can’t seem to find any traction. I even kick back into his shin, and nothing. No contact. I surrender and fall into a weeping mess in his arms.

I had one goal today and totally blew it. Sobbing and screaming, I fully give in to his hold. Everything I thought I could be today vanishes in an instant. I try to speak again to let him know he can leave and I’ll be okay, but a jumbled mess of speech pours out. Slowing down my breathing, I try again, but again nothing. My knees buckle and every ounce of fight I built up for this day vanishes in moments.

“Look at me.”

Great! Now my mind is playing tricks on me too. That voice is so familiar, but so not Levi’s. I’m spun around in a flash and facing him. My heart stops and my blood runs cold. I take several steps back, shaking my head and trying to make sense of the whole picture.

“Jenni.”

Something catches the back of my legs and I begin to tumble to the ground. His hands catch me in time, and again I’m face to face with him. I’m not sure if it’s from the overwhelming morning or the fact he’s standing before me, but I begin to lose my shit again.

“Leave. Leave now.” My hands crash into his chest. They are insignificant compared to it, but it doesn’t stop me from raining hell on him. “Get the fuck out of here.”

His statue of a frame doesn’t budge an inch as he stands in front of me, taking every single blow. My words and name-calling match my fists as they land on him.

“I fucking hate you. Do you hear me? I hate you.” My palm finds his cheek, slapping him with all my force. “You left me like everyone else. I. Hate. You.”

Raising my hand again, I steady myself to slap him. He doesn’t flinch or duck, and I let him have it until my palm stings and can’t bear any more pain. He never attempts to grab my hand or stop me from hitting him. My energy wears out and I sink to the ground. Before I make contact with the cement I’m in his arms again.

“Jenni.”

I don’t respond to him or even make eye contact. The damage of being in his arms one more time is more than I can handle.

“Jenni, I love you.” His words hurt. I’ve imagined him for weeks now standing before me and speaking those simple words. “I’m Beau, but to you I’m Jeremiah, I’m your whole story, the beginning, middle, and the end.”

“Please leave.”

I’m lifted from my feet and carried into the house. Beau lays me down on the couch, using a soft, pale pink throw blanket to cover me up. I watch him as he looks around the house, and it’s as if I can read his mind from the expression on his face.

“Just leave me alone.”

He turns around and makes his way to the door.

“You hurt me worse than Maxton ever thought of doing, Beau.”

His fists clench at his sides and his neck muscles contract. I can only imagine the look on his face right now. I wait for him to stomp out the front door and send it slamming in his wake.

“I’m not leaving, Jenni. I came back for you.”

“Maybe you never should have pushed me away.”

Sitting up on the couch and tearing the blanket from me, I make sure he understands every word. “You chose to leave me, so stay gone, you asshole.”

This time he walks away. His fists are unclenched and he never slams the door. Where did I go wrong today? I rush to the kitchen counter and swallow as many pills as are left in the translucent orange bottle, because clearly I just had the worst nightmare of my life. My eyelids are heavy by the time I make it back to the couch, and when my body is fully on the soft cushions, my mind drifts far away from reality, the bakery, and everyday things, and straight into a sense of relief where no worries threaten anyone. 

The ringing of the phone pulls me from a haze, but it’s not enough to fully awaken me. It continues to ring-ring-ring and I just let it go. I want to wake to answer it, but can’t force myself. Soon it stops and I drift back to sleep.

“I tried waking her.” A voice enters my thoughts again. “She’s breathing. I’ve made sure of that.”

“How long has she been out?” It’s Jazzy’s voice, and I look around to find her but I only see a sea of strange people staring at me. Some are even pointing.

“Two hours. I called you after the first hour.” The deep voice Jazzy is talking to is sexy and oh-so-familiar. It’s like I want to take a hot shower with him, but I remember I hate him.

“Jenni.” Jazzy’s voice is clearer this time and harsh. My eyes pry open and I see Jazzy in my face with Beau standing behind her.

“I told you to leave.” My words are barely audible.

Jazzy completely ignores me. “How many pills did you take? What did you do?”

The panic in her voice hurts my heart and I feel bad for worrying her. Honestly, I don’t remember how many I took. I finished off the bottle to feel nothing. It’s what I love.

“I don’t know, but I’m fine.” Sitting up, my head spins as my high from the pills is still in full effect. The room twirls and my stomach takes a dip as I try to stand. My body goes straight up into a standing position, but keeps moving and I can’t stop my momentum. Jazzy lunges for me but isn’t strong enough to stop me.

Beau pushes her aside and holds me. I fall into his arms easily and don’t have the will or the equilibrium to fight it.

“Jump, baby girl.” His arms wrap under my arms and I follow his directions and jump as high as I can into his arms. He secures me against him, and I relax as he begins to walk up the stairs. I hear Jazzy’s voice in the back questioning him, berating him with all kinds of questions.

“I’ll take care of her. I’m not here to hurt her or fight.” Beau stops and slightly turns to face Jazzy. “I’m here forever.”

His words seep through my foggy haze and I recognize his determined voice. The voice that gets what it wants because he won’t accept no for an answer. The word no bounces around in my heard, and after a few minutes I’ve convinced myself that I made it up. Beau would never use the word forever.

Jazzy’s voice fades into the background as Beau climbs the steps.

“Right or left, I can’t remember.”

I gesture to the right with my head. Beau enters my room and goes straight to the bathroom. He doesn’t let go of me as he turns on the shower. The bathroom quickly steams up with the hot water. The scent of the steam and being held by Beau undoes me. It tears apart everything I’ve so desperately tried to patch back together the last few days. He rips me down without even knowing it.

“I’m going to put you down, Jenni.”

Staring into the eyes of the man I love, I can’t say a word. I let him take each piece of my clothing off and memorize the paths his knuckles take down my skin. Naked, I begin to shiver. It’s intense and controlling my body right now.

I am lifted from the ground again as we step into the shower together. I’m in his arms, and he is fully clothed. The steady stream of hot water pouring down on me settles the shivers.

My hand finds his cleanly shaven cheek, and for the first time in weeks I feel at home with someone. Beau leans down, dipping his hair in the stream of hot water. He stops before his lips touch my forehead.

“I want to kiss you,” he murmurs.

I raise my head to meet his lips, giving him my answer to his question. When he pulls up from me, there’s a hunger lingering in his eyes. I could so easily give myself over to him and let him wash away all the pain.