Undisputed (34 page)

I wasn’t able to stand looking at pictures of Connor, but the day we closed on our house six months after his death, I walked into the kitchen to find that picture front and center on our fridge. Breccan said that the house wasn’t truly a home without Connor in it.

Abby flew in the next day to help us move in, and by the time she’d left, the fridge was covered in memories.

“Baby, the tickets?” Breccan asks, shaking me out of my trip down memory lane.

I reach inside my purse and find the six tickets safely tucked inside. “Got ’em,” I tell him.

After grabbing my sweater off the back of the chair, he hands it to me.

I shake my head.

He growls, “Just put it on, Sid.”

Rolling my eyes, I snatch it from his hands. “Breccan, it’s October in Georgia. It’s eighty degrees today. Not to mention I’m a walking heating blanket right now.” I gesture at my belly.

“Well, Olivia might get cold,” he argues.

I decide not to fight the issue and slip my arms into the soft fabric.

When we found out we were having a girl, Breccan insisted we name her Connor. While my heart melted at the idea, I knew there was no way in hell I was naming my daughter a boy’s name. We argued for weeks, finally compromising and deciding that her middle name would honor the boy we lost.

The doorbell rings, and I turn, not bothering to walk to the door. A few moments later, Rebecca waltzes in, followed closely by Tripp. She’s carrying a bottle of wine in one hand and sparkling grape juice in the other.

Smiling, she holds them both up. “A little pregame toast!” she shouts before rushing over and throwing her arms around my shoulders, nearly knocking me out with the bottles. “I’ve missed you!” she squeals. “Look how big you are!”

“Oh, hell,” Breccan mutters behind me.

Her eyes widen, and she mouths, “Sorry,” before hurrying toward the kitchen in search of cups.

I let her comment slide. She’s right; I’m a beached whale.

Tripp nods at me and follows her in. Then he digs through the fridge for a beer before coming up empty-handed, “Dude, where are your beers? Is this coconut water? What the fuck?” he mumbles.

Breccan rolls his eyes and jerks a thumb in my direction. “Ask my wife.”

Laughing, I tell him, “If I can’t drink, he can’t drink. Come back in two months. I’m sure the fridge will be stocked.”

Breccan and I got married a year ago in a small ceremony on the beach in Costa Rica. It was intimate, with only the Tolers, my brother, and my sister in attendance. Breccan’s parents had been invited, but it was no surprise when they declined our invitation. I worried that Breccan would be bitter, but he shrugged it off and never mentioned it again. His father still calls occasionally to try to convince Breccan to join him in the family business, but the answer is always the same: Fuck. No.

My wedding was everything I had always dreamed it would be—set on the beach with the jungle behind us. It was gorgeous and perfect, and I felt Connor’s presence beside me as I said, “I do.”

The doorbell rings again, and I motion for Breccan to answer it. He pulls it open, and my sister walks in, followed closely by Pierre.

Shocking the shit out of everyone, Abby did the one thing no one ever expected of her.

She quit her job and got married to a French artist she’d met while on assignment.

After rushing over to me, she pulls me into a warm embrace and whispers, “Look at you. You’re glowing.”

I look deep into her eyes, expecting to see sadness. Instead, they sparkle with happiness.

“So are you,” I whisper, squeezing her hand.

It has been six months since I saw her last. Despite having settled down, she doesn’t come home often, saying that the memories were too painful.

I wave to Pierre, who is already busy chatting with Breccan.

Gazing around the room at the people gathered, I smile. Connor would have loved this. I know that, wherever he is watching us from, he is positively giddy.

Clapping his hands together, Breccan shouts, “Are we ready?”

A round of cheers goes up, and he strides over to me, asking, “You got the notebook?”

Nodding, I pat my purse. “Right here.”

We arrive at Turner Field half an hour later and settle into our seats in the skybox just in time to see the first pitch being thrown out.

“All right, ladies and gentlemen. Here we go.” The announcer’s voice rumbles over the loudspeaker. “We’re tied at three-three going in to game seven of the World Series. It all comes down to this.”

Unable to contain my excitement, I pull Connor’s notebook out. Breccan hands me a pen before squeezing my hand.

Taking a deep breath, I cross off the final item on Connor’s bucket list.

Bucket List:

Skydiving

Atlanta Falcons football game

Meet swimsuit model Haley Nicole

Have a white Christmas

Shoot a zombie

Draw a place to visit out of a hat and go that day

Ball room dancing lessons

Deep sea fishing

Base Jump

White water rafting

Learn jiu-jitsu

Learn to play guitar

Meet Levee Williams

Write a comic book

Solve a Rubik’s cube

Harry Potter Movie Marathon

Pet a Kangaroo in Australia

Drive a race car

Learn to surf

Swim with dolphins

Chase a tornado

Attend all 7 games of the world series

“We did it,” I whisper. “We did it.”

Breccan releases my hand and wraps his arm around my shoulders. After kissing my temple, he murmurs, “Of course we did. Together.”

Undisputed

The End

I remember when (shameless plug) Aly Martinez wrote her first book and I saw my name in the acknowledgements. My little heart swelled, and tears filled my eyes. I always wondered, “If I write a book, what would I say?” Now, I actually get to do it. And, sitting here, I’m at a loss for words. There are so many people who have helped along the way. It takes a village to raise a child. It also takes a village to write a book. So, to my village: thank you all. I’m sure I’ll leave someone out. It’s not my intention to slight anyone—except that guy that one time who said I couldn’t do it. He sucks.

First and foremost, my husband, Dan:

Thank you for your encouragement, your faith in me, and your ability to overlook the state of our house and lack of meals. You’ve always been my number-one supporter, no matter what it is I’ve dreamed up. Thank you for always listening when I talked about books I’d read. Thank you for listening to my crazy plots. Thank you for being my sexy hero reference. You are my favorite person ever. I luba you.

My kids, Kaitlyn and Madeline: Thank you for letting me neglect you while writing this book. I love you both more than words can say. You two are my greatest blessings in life. Nothing I will ever do will compare to being your mommy.

Nell: For always telling me that you’re proud of me. You don’t know what it means to me to hear it. For always listening to me bitch. For proofreading my book and finding all the erors (even that one ;) For pretty much being the best friend a person could ever have. I can’t imagine my life without you. I love you. Now, get to writing.

Bianca S: Thank you! For your support, for your feedback, for your encouragement, for your daily messages, for your everything. I can’t wait to see your face again!

Amie: Thank you for your feedback. And for making me change things even though I wanted to cry. You helped make it better. I cannot wait to read yours

Mo: Thank you for always encouraging me to write, even way back when. Thank you for sharing my stuff. Thank you for being you. Can’t wait to see you and Danny again!

Ashley B: Thank you for changing my cover approximately 458942 times. I can’t imagine what a pain in the ass I was. I love it!

To the bloggers and readers: Thank you for reading, for reviewing, for promoting, for making my dream a reality.

To all of the indie authors: Thank you for always supporting new authors. Thank you for your guidance along the way. This writing journey has seriously been the craziest rollercoaster I’ve ever been on. Without the indie community, this wouldn’t be possible. So a million times, thank you!

A.S. Teague enjoys the warmth of South Carolina with her husband and two daughters. The stereotypes about peach cobbler and sweet tea are not overstated. After years in the medical field, she is now enjoying every minute of being a stay-at-home mom. She loves wine, the beach, wine on the beach, and crying at Disney movies. When she doesn’t have a book in her hand, she can be found pestering her husband with pictures of animals she wants to rescue, as well as debating whether to exercise or take a nap.