Keeping Seven

by T. A Richards Neville

  “What about your mom?” she asked, illustrating the fact she cared too damn much about everyone else. “People are expecting a wedding.”

  Yeah, whenever that might have been. Back end of never from the excruciating pace we were moving.

  “I didn’t ask my mom to marry me, so what her or anyone else is expecting isn’t mine or your problem.”

  “It’s just…” Angel looked away, turning her face into the wind with a shadow of doubt in her eyes. Her nose was red now, her cheeks rosy as snow freckles landed and melted on her eyelashes. “Sudden, I guess.”

  “Is it? I asked you to be my wife in June. It’s February now. What’s sudden about it? You say I’m your family, so make it legal. Because you’re mine, Angel. And I want everyone and their fucking uncle to know it. I plan on marrying you, and if that still scares you, then I’m fucking sorry.”

  Angel’s gaze slid cautiously back to me, her fingernail wedged between her teeth, caramel eyes wide in uncertainty. Like I had the right answer and I was keeping it from her. “When?”

  “I’ve got meetings for new endorsements in Miami and a big fucking commercial I can’t get out of, so before we leave Boston. If I’m boarding a different flight to you and Taj, I’m gonna need extra insurance on my investment. A sweet token to keep me going while you’re in Los Angeles.”

  “How on earth are you so sure you want to marry me when I can’t even give up a job for you? Most of my life I’ve been rejected, abandoned—made to feel like less. I let those people do that. My mom, my dad, Jordan. They walked all over me and I barely made a sound. And I’m pushing you away like it’s an Olympic event and I’m gunning for the gold. I’m so scared of being hurt again, Julian, like, really hurt. I’ve made so many mistakes with you. I’ve spent nights awake worrying we’re falling apart before we’ve even had a chance to build something real.”

  “What’s scaring you more right now, Angel? The rumors surrounding me turning out to be true, me dumping you and proving everyone right, or the fact I’m here and I’m always going to be here?”

  “Both,” she said, a note of hopelessness there. “You scare me. How much I love you scares me. Plummeting from that great height and not making it out alive scares me.”

  “Well suck it up, because that’s what being in love feels like. It’s scary, Angel. We’ve put each other through enough to know that it hurts like fuck, too. But I’m not interested in trying this with anyone else. You need to be in LA and in your job to hold onto yourself for a bit longer, fine. Keep your independence, I support that. I support you. But can you do it with my last name?”

  She couldn’t look less convinced if I’d tattooed my whole body with her face.

  “And I’m it for you? Forever? You don’t need more time?”

  That made me laugh, which in turn brought back Angel’s frown. “It’s been challenging accepting you’ve ever been anyone else’s. Forever’s a drop in the ocean for how much time I’d actually like to have with you. I can’t promise not to make you cry, or make every day a scenic walk in the botanical gardens, but I can promise to love you and do whatever it takes to make you happy and keep you that way. Do you regret saying yes? Is that what this is?” The question kept coming back to me, always niggling.

  “What? No.” She sounded repulsed by the idea, but what else was I supposed to think?

  “Then show me. Grow a pair and do what you said you would.”

  She scoffed. “Fine. I will.”

  I smiled, Angel standing sulking under a packed, white sky, shivering in the snow. The wind hadn’t let up any, either.

  “I was going to stay with you tonight, but now I want to find out what you’re made of, so unless you don’t think you can be alone, I’m going to take you to your dad’s and I’m going to sleep at my mom’s. If you haven’t changed your mind by morning, I’ll meet you at City Hall and we’ll apply for the license.”

  “You can’t harass someone into marrying you. When the priest asks for any objections, the last person you want speaking out is the woman you’re exchanging rings with.”

  “It wasn’t harassment,” I said to my mom. “More like a gentle shove. She had cold feet, I warmed them up for her.”

  We were sitting on the couch in her living room. Twelve-foot ceilings, two huge, old fireplaces, white wainscoting and gold finishing, this townhouse was a million miles away from the crumbling brick house in Dorchester. I still felt like I’d hijacked a different body whenever I visited, and as fucked-up as it sounded, I missed our old spot. But time moved forward, and this was where we’d ended up. Bigger and better pad for my mom and Taj, a Super Bowl ring and more than two-thousand miles stubbornly between me and the woman I was progressively going crazy over. If I acted any more possessive, the next step would be to get Angel’s skin seared with my initials. Like branding livestock.

  “Have you spoken to your ex-husband?” I lowered my voice to ask. Gary was in the kitchen, butchering innocent vegetables by the sound of it. Interaction with Julian. Sr after the Super Bowl game hadn’t lasted long, and my mom had kept plenty of distance in front of me, and much to his chagrin. What happened after was anyone’s guess.

  “I have. I suggested marriage counselling if him and Susan are going through a rough patch. That was one remedy we never tried. I hope it can work for him, I really do. He has four children now. His focus should be on being the best dad he can be. And Susan’s a good woman.”

  I wasn’t his kid anymore, but that was beside the point. And Susan was a good woman. Glad we were all in agreement. “You sound like you mean it.”

  A wave of silence rolled in, pulsing with tension. My mom’s eyebrows dipped as she studied her lap, then she said, “I do. I know you don’t want to hear it, and you think I’m weak when it comes to him, but I can’t turn off my feelings. I’m just not going to act on them or give them another thought. We divorced for a reason. I’ll love your dad until the day I die, but he’s someone else’s now, and I have to respect that and let him go. If he wants to talk to Taj, or see him, he’s got his cell number. There’s no reason for me to ever be in a conversation with him.”

  “You mean that?”

  “Your dad knew he had all the power when it came to me. I had no control over the situation, but I do now.”

  Music to my ears.

  “Where does this leave Gary?” I ran my gaze over her sitting across from me, trying to pick out the slightest weakness or traces of dishonesty, and found nothing.

  “With me. I won’t sabotage my own relationship for a man who dodges responsibility like bullets. Gary knows what I did, and he’s forgiven me. Bad relapse on my part.”

  Seemed my mom had Gary wrapped all the way around her finger. I was relieved to hear he wasn’t leaving her, though. Anything to push her closer to my dad would likely send me over the edge to insanity, and I had a lot more football I planned on playing.

  Speaking of Gary, his balding head appeared around the white wooden-framed entry into the kitchen, just off the dining room. “Julian, are you staying for lunch? I’m just about finished in here.”

  “No, thanks.” I stood up from the cream, suede armchair. “I’m meeting Angel now.”

  “Fair enough. How’s that brother and stepmother of hers today? The hit and run’s been on the news every day this week, largely because of your connection. Keep a low profile while you’re out there.”

  “I will. And they’re on the mend, no big changes, but no setbacks, either. I’ll tell Angel you’re asking after them.”

  Gary nodded. “You do that.” And then he headed back into the kitchen.

  My mom stood, flattening out the front of her peach blouse. “What if she doesn’t show up? You have a strange way of picking your moments, Julian.”

  “You think she won’t show?”

  My mom punctuated her point with a dimly amused look and an arched eyebrow. “I think your timing is horrible.”

  It was, but I knew that. “I’m not asking her to walk dow
n the aisle this morning. Just get the first step out of the way. I’ll take her straight to the hospital once we’ve applied for the license. No harm, no foul.”

  “Taj!” Mom slipped me a closed-mouth smile, shaking her head as her arms folded over her chest. “Come say bye to your brother. He’s leaving now!”

  Mom walked me downstairs to the front door, Taj coming down from the third floor to meet us.

  “You going to the hospital? I’ll go with you.” Kid had it bad, but like hell would any of us dare bring it up with him again. The denial was strong in this one, and it was less hassle to leave him be so he could ride it out like every other horny, lovesick teenager. We’d all fucking been there. Their connection ran deep from day dot, though, and no one—not even me—understood Taj on the level Angel did.

  “Nah, not right away,” I said. “But I’ll pick you up when we do go.”

  “What’re you doing now?” Taj wanted to be wherever Angel was, and I wasn’t getting out of this house without giving him a good reason for why he wouldn’t be coming with me.

  “Hopefully getting a marriage license at City Hall.”

  The frown came crashing over his eyes, like I’d stolen what was his. Or I was reading too far below the surface. “You’re getting married today?”

  “Not today, but soon if we get this license. I asked Angel to meet me if she wants to do it. If she isn’t there, then no license, no marriage.”

  Taj tucked his phone into the pocket in his Adidas track pants. “She’ll be there. I know she will.”

  I copped a grin at my little brother. “How do you know that?”

  Without hesitation, he said, “She wouldn’t keep you waiting. But I like it in LA. And I love playing for the Junior Kings. So don’t rush her out to Miami just yet, you know? Because I’m not ready to leave, either. So, yeah... that’s it.” His timid smile put heat in his tan cheeks. Taj turned pink for any and no reason, but I heard him loud and clear.

  And I thought about what he’d said the entire drive to City Hall. Man, if anyone could make me feel like a bag of dicks, it was my own brother. He’d settled in Los Angeles, worrying I would uproot him and rip the cushy carpet up from under his feet. So, as well as Angel, I had Taj to contend with, and it felt like neither of them wanted to be anywhere near me. They were happy together, on the West Coast. They had their own shit going on, and they weren’t done yet.

  Jesus, when did life get so fucking complex? It would be nice if I could be as fulfilled as my fiancée in just my job. People threw themselves and stuff at me daily, but the gap Angel had left could never be filled by anyone other than her. I wasn’t sure if having everything and nothing was an actual thing, but that described my life right now perfectly.

  During the night, the snow had died off, watery brown sludge left along the side of the road and footpaths. It had picked up again now, cold, white flakes fluttering down over the bustling city, the racket of downtown Boston overwhelming compared to the peace of the slow-paced neighborhood I lived in Miami. I liked it, though, the noise. There was comfort in it.

  I parked at a nearby garage and walked to City Hall, turning heads as I passed and gathering unsure looks, the Nike face mask pulled over my nose throwing most people off. A scattering of people milled about the plaza; tourists snapping selfies with the famous architectural structure in the background. I probed through the unfamiliar faces, searching the plaza for one I actually wanted to see.

  Honestly, Angel not meeting me here might be what I deserved. I’d pushed her to be here, to set the wheels in motion and give me exactly what I wanted. I may as well have given her the ring, told her she can wear it, but it comes with strict conditions to do what I say or it will be confiscated.

  Five minutes of searching proved Angel wasn’t one of the early risers coasting through the plaza, on their way to work or wherever they were headed. I tried to picture it as I stood with my back against the railing, still hopeful one of these strangers would morph into the person I was waiting for.

  I ducked my head, a rude as hell passerby whipping out their cell and taking a boat load of pictures. When others started to catch on, picking up on the disturbance, I pulled up the hood on my Under Armour Windbreaker, covering my cap, looking ready to holdup the nearest liquor store. I couldn’t go anywhere without a fucking hat now, but in the grand scheme of how my life had turned out, a permanent hat seemed like a dick thing to complain about. Still, my moment of sinking into the gutter immortalized on someone else’s cell phone didn’t fill me with joy, either.

  Sighing, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check for any messages concerning Bear or Elena. There were none, thank fuck. But if they were still doing okay, and there’d been no change, then Angel wasn’t here because she chose not to be. Angel wasn’t here because she wasn’t ready, and who could fucking blame her? I’d been a selfish prick over and over. I was territorial when it came to Angel, blinded by how badly I wanted her by my side in Miami and out of LA.

  I shoved my phone into my pocket, tucked my hands in there and ducked my head against the thickening snow. Striding back through the open plaza, eyes on the ground, my mind went to some dark places. Why wasn’t Angel here? Did her absence mean no license and quick marriage or no marriage period?

  Two hours I’d waited. She wasn’t coming, no way. Shit wasn’t going to change, and this long-distance wasn’t just getting boring, it was fucking intolerable. This much time and distance apart hadn’t once been my idea. I was opposed to it from day one, but I’d compromised because it was better than having nothing at all.

  The ground underneath my feet quickly turned white, the brown sludge recovered with fresh snow as the morning drew on and the streets and roads became busier. Rounding the red brick wall out of the plaza, barely bothering to look where I was walking , blinded by the storm cloud brewing inside, the approaching footsteps muted by the snow blanket weren’t picked up as oncoming traffic until the other person was crushed under my weight.

  “Whoa!” My hands sprung from my pockets on reflex to grab the upper body of my victim, squeezing her biceps while simultaneously walking her backward to keep us both upright from the bruising impact.

  “Julian?”

  I looked up from under my hat, tugging the stretchy face mask under my mouth. “Angel?”

  With the little freedom she had, she stretched her right arm across her chest to rub her left arm. “You need to watch where you’re going. You almost leveled me.”

  “I didn’t think you were coming. I’ve been here two hours.” I still had her pinned in front of me, even though there was no reason she couldn’t now stand on her own.

  “I’ve been doing my own thinking.” She pushed against my iron grip with both arms, and I eased off her. She licked snow from her bottom lip, drawing my eyes to her mouth. Her face was bare of makeup, the pink cardigan from the other night hanging open over her leggings and tank top set, exposing her naturally tan midriff and chest. Wisps of curling hair framed her face, coated in contrasting speckles of snow, the rest of her dark hair bunched on top of her head. “I’ve got nothing to hide, Julian. Screw getting the license and the shotgun wedding. I’m proud you asked me to be your wife. Let’s just bite the bullet and get married. In front of our families and our friends, and everyone we know. You have given me everything I’ve asked for and more. I’m done asking for stuff. I’ll finish out this year with the Junior Kings and then I’m all yours.”

  “You want the big wedding?”

  She smiled, laughter slipping out. “I do, yeah. With you, I’ve realized want it all, because I’m only doing this once and I want to do it right. I’ve been telling myself not to rely on you or smother you in any way, but there’s nothing wrong with loving you. It’s okay to freefall and not always be caught, you know? Tears rimmed her lower lashes. “I’m sorry I made you wait. I’m sorry I took so long to get here, and not just today.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” I cupped her chin in my hand, lowered my head and feath
ered my lips over hers, cold and wet from the snow. “This love thing’s nothing like when I was fifteen.”

  Angel’s icy hands slipped under my jacket, her shivering body inching closer to mine. “What’s different now?”

  “I mean it now. You’re afraid no one’s gonna be there to catch you, but I swear on my life, Angel, I’ll be there every time.”

  T he sun was starting to set over North Beach, Miami as I slipped away from the reception. I gathered my flowing, Alençon lace skirt in my hands as I picked out carefully chosen steps across the Monastery’s pretty lawns. Family, close friends, and Julian’s teammates danced and helped themselves to the open bar in the courtyard, warm white lights strung through the towering Spanish Oaks and potted lamps throwing mood lighting over the stout trunks of ancient Cycads, bathing the waxy evergreen leaves in ripe shades of grape and sangria.

  With three unofficial wedding planners in the form of Rebecca, Hayden, and Marilyn, and the monastery’s own coordinator, I couldn’t have asked for anything more than what I’d been given today. St. Bernard de Clairvaux was idyllic in setting and steeped in History. Intimate and extravagant without being over-the-top fancy. Julian and I had said our ‘I do’s’ in front of one-hundred and sixty of our nearest and dearest in the flourishing gardens under the mid-May sun.

  I was officially Mrs. Lawson.

  Taking the opportunity to watch the molten peach sunset and catch my breath, I left the dancing and laughter behind me, following the high-pitched laughter of my three-year-old brother as he submerged his hand, and quite a bit of his cotton shirt sleeve, into the stone fountain under the canopy of trees swaying in the late breeze. Snatching him up at the waist from behind, Bear squealed as Julian lifted him off the ground and pretended to throw him into the cascading, shallow water.

  Carrying Bear like a football under one arm, Julian turned around, the playful glint in his eyes intensifying when he saw me standing there. The smile lines around his mouth deepened, his dimple showing as his smile progressed to its full, panty-melting potential. Six years together, and the effect Julian had on me and my body had only grown stronger. I was more in love with the man than ever. So deliriously content and fulfilled, I hadn’t thought it possible to be this happy.