Authors: S.R. Grey
Today's Promises (25 page)
And we’re back to that—the other piece of info I promised you a while back. Mandy partnered with Bill a couple years ago, and when he opened the shop up here he gave it to her to run.
Funny how life turns out sometimes, right?
Mandy was the one who first connected us with Bill, and here she is running his store.
Full circle and all that.
I guess I should share with you what happened to Mrs. Lowry and Allison, though I’d just as well not. But those two people who caused so much pain, you must be wondering what became of them.
Well, I’m pleased to report that Mrs. Lowry is still behind bars, and will be for a long time.
And Allison, well she’s gone. Yeah, you read that right. The girl is dead. She was stabbed during a prison fight four years ago. Sorry, but I have to confess that no tears were shed for that one.
Okay, enough about those two. Let’s return to the here and now and all the positive shit that’s been happening in our lives.
Like, did I mention Jaynie and I got married this past weekend?
What? No?
Well, we did.
Jaynie and I exchanged our vows of devotion under the stars, on the cliff that remains our special place.
A reverend who’s a friend of Bill’s officiated the late evening ceremony. Josh was my best man, and Mandy was Jaynie’s matron of honor. Callie was our flower girl, and Cody, the ring bearer. Bill and Detective Silver came to the wedding, and Crick, sitting front and center, stood and spoke a few words, adding his own special flair.
All in all, our tiny wedding was perfect. And afterward we partied at the sandwich shop.
Man, I love married life. Though sometimes I can’t believe Jaynie is really my wife.
How did I ever get so lucky?
My cell beeps, interrupting my rambling thoughts.
Hey, it’s Jaynie, texting me, telling me she has something important to tell me…
Jaynie
F
lynn meets me back at our apartment, but this is not where I want to give him my good news.
I grab his hand and say, “Come on. Let’s take a ride.”
“Where to?” he asks.
“That’s a surprise, along with my news.” I tug on his arm. “Hurry, Flynn, hurry.”
“You’re killing me, Jaynie,” he jokes.
But he follows me, just as I always follow him. That hasn’t changed.
When we hit the interstate, I head south out of Morgantown. Flynn tries again to elicit some info from me, but to no avail.
“Can you at least give me a clue as to where we’re going?” he asks.
“Nope,” I maintain. “I told you it’s a surprise, just like my news.”
God, Flynn is going to be shocked by what I have to tell him
.
He gives up, mumbling a defeated, “Okay, okay.”
When we finally come to a stop, we’re in Lawrence, down by the river, not far from the sandwich shop.
“Are we going to the park?” Flynn correctly guesses.
“Yes, we are.”
It’s a drizzly spring afternoon, not unlike the day I first met Flynn. And like the day I met him, he still takes my breath away. At twenty-four, he is all man now, and more stunning than ever.
Hand in hand, we stroll down to the river’s edge. When we stop on the muddy banks, I turn to him and say, “This is the exact spot where I dragged my ass out of the water all those years ago. You know,” I add softly, “the night I jumped from the cliff.”
Flynn moves to stand behind me so we’re both facing the water with the same vantage point. With his chin resting on my shoulder, he says, “Right here exactly, huh?”
I nod once. “Yes. And I’ve viewed this riverbank, since that day, as the place of my re-birth. That’s why I wanted to be
here
when I give you my news.”
“Jaynie…”
An edge of worry has crept into Flynn’s voice, but there’s no need for concern.
I hasten to get that across to him when I say, “What I’m about to tell you is something good. It’s the happy kind of news—the
very
happy kind.”
“Jaynie, please, just tell me,” he begs.
I lower his hands to my abdomen. I can’t keep him in suspense a minute more.
“Flynn,” I begin, “this is where I was given a chance at a new life. And this is where you should learn about another new life, a life you helped create.”
He sucks in a breath. “What are you saying, Jaynie?” His voice is uneven, but filled with so much hope.
“What do you think I’m saying?” I whisper.
He turns me so I’m facing him and places his hands on my tummy from this new angle. He then asks, “Are you… Are you…?” He lowers his eyes. “I’m afraid to say the words. I’m afraid this might all be a dream. I’m afraid I’ll wake up and none of this will be real.”
“It’s all real,” I whisper.
He looks up at me, and God, the hope and yearning in his soft gray eyes tugs at my heart. “It’s really what I’m thinking?”
“Yes.” I nod like crazy.
Flynn deserves this so much. And I’m elated that I can give him what I never thought possible. I was told long ago that I may never have kids. I thought at the time it was true, so much so that Flynn and I gave up birth control years ago. For a while, not all that long ago, we even tried.
But nothing ever happened.
Until now.
Beaming, I say the words I never thought would pass my lips. “I’m pregnant, Flynn. I’m really pregnant. I didn’t want to say anything for a few weeks. You know…just in case. But I’m twelve weeks along now, and I had another doctor’s appointment just the other da—”
“I’m going with you to
all
of those from now on,” he interjects.
“Yes, yes, of course. I was just afraid, at first. I didn’t want to get your hopes up. But after what they told me last visit, I want you there with me every step of the way from here on out.”
“What’d they say at your last visit?” Flynn wants to know, looking suddenly worried.
“Nothing bad,” I assure him. “Everything looks good, in fact. Our baby is developing on schedule and appears to be perfectly healthy.”
“Jaynie…” Flynn swipes away a tear, and then another. “Don’t worry, these are happy tears,” he assures me.
“I already knew that,” I tell him.
These moments I’ve experienced by the river bank, they define my life. When my rebirth occurred, half a dozen years ago, I was given a fresh start, a new life. And now today, as we speak of an anxiously awaited birth, I get the sense this is going down in the annals of history as the happiest day of that new life.
I turn out to be wrong, though.
The happiest day of my life is the day I give birth to a seven-pound, four-ounce little boy, whom Flynn and I name Galen, in honor of the little brother Flynn lost.
That day is the best, by far, for the both of us.
It’s also the day we learn that sometimes even the saddest of stories have the happiest of endings.
S.R. Grey is an Amazon Top 100 and a #1 Barnes & Noble Best Selling Author. She is the author of the highly popular Judge Me Not series, the new Promises series, the Inevitability duology, A Harbour Falls Mystery trilogy, and the Laid Bare series of novellas. Ms. Grey’s works have appeared on several Amazon Bestseller lists, including the Top 100 multiple times, as well as #1 on Barnes & Noble Bestselling Nook Books.
Ms. Grey has a hilarious new Sports Romance/Romantic Comedy coming out this winter. Follow and visit the following sites to stay up-to-date on a Blurb Reveal, a Cover Reveal (featuring an über-hot model), and publication specifics.
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I Stand Before You
, the first novel in S.R. Grey’s best-selling Judge Me Not series.
I Stand Before You
Chase
I
lean my head back against the headrest, crank the passenger window down the rest of the way. The June night air rustles through my hair, reminding me I desperately need a trim. I run my fingers through the strands, chasing the path of the breeze.
My grandmother likes to lecture that I shouldn’t have hair sticking out at odd angles, strands curling at the nape of my neck.
“You’re such a handsome young man, Chase,” Grandma Gartner said just this morning,
tsk
ing when I sat down for breakfast. “You look so much like your father did when he was your age. But, you know,
he
always kept
his
hair short and tidy.” And then there was a pause, a long, dramatic sigh. She set down a plate of eggs—over easy—in front of me. “My poor Jack. God rest his soul.” My grandmother crossed herself.
Her poor Jack, my father with the short and tidy hair—dead and gone.
I thought:
I am not my dad
,
Gram.
He failed us, he gave up on us.
But the words never passed my lips. And they never will. Hearing them would only hurt my grandmother’s feelings and she’s too good to hear the angry thoughts poisoning my polluted mind. So I keep all that shit locked deep inside.
This morning was no different. I kept things light, said something like, “The girls like my hair like this, Gram. Got to keep the ladies happy, ya know.”
Then I ducked and waited for the inevitable swat with the dish towel. But it never came. Instead, the lines in my grandmother’s face deepened.
“You don’t need to be concerning yourself with keeping ladies happy, young man. You’re only twenty. Messing with women at your age will only lead to trouble.”
I knew what she meant this morning, and I know it now too. She’s worried I’ll end up getting some girl pregnant. Then I’ll be fucked, well and good. But I’m always careful, take the necessary precautions. Besides, it isn’t my womanizing ways that’s becoming a problem. If only. No, unfortunately, it’s my ever-growing dependency on drugs—something my grandmother would never suspect—that has me worried these days.
