by Taylor Hart
After that, his dad had retired from the military so he could be home more. DJ grunted, remembering all the times he’d gone to the bar to pick his dad up off the floor at two a.m. The old man should have just left him and Travis by themselves—it would have been better.
As he drove on, he cast a critical eye on all the changes to the town. Someone had added a new coat of paint to the Fish Fry. Dang, his mouth was watering. All the homes around this area had been built in the past five years. He noted all the new construction signs and model homes across the street.
He didn’t like it. When he was growing up this place had been authentic, not new and showy.
He turned down the short road to his father’s house. The place still looked like a dump, complete with a foreclosure sign on it. Another sign said it was under contract.
His heart sped up. What? His dad’s house was in foreclosure? Annoyance pricked at him as he parked. He got out and shut the car door, staring at the offending sign. He cursed, and then pulled back on his emotions. What did he care? His father probably couldn’t come back here anyway.
DJ’s annoyance increased when he saw the old garage to the side of the house was open, and it looked like it had been cleaned out. He walked over and called out, “Hey, who’s there?”
Nobody was there. He shut the garage door, even more annoyed that someone had been going through his dad’s stuff.
The wind picked up, and he felt a chill. The temperature was in the mid-fifties here, which was amazing in December, but the wind coming off the ocean made it feel at least another ten degrees cooler. He spotted the dock that led out to the water, and he walked toward it, noting it was in even worse shape than the house. How often had he and Travis literally run down the dock before jumping into the ocean?
When one of them wanted something and the other knew they had to fight to get it, they raced to the ocean. That was the tiebreaker.
Wind rippled the water and the sun sparkled off of the waves. It was almost dinnertime, but the sun was still bright, and the sky shone a brilliant blue. The air tasted of humidity and salt, a far cry from the air in Texas. He grinned to himself. You couldn’t taste the air in Texas; it was too dry.
No one would really get that joke. Except Travis. And Aspen.
Another shot of pain struck his chest. The last time he’d come back was for Travis’s funeral. All of the blackness that he’d stowed away in the deepest recess of his heart threatened to burst forth, but he carefully, patiently waited for it to go back down.
DJ stared at the rundown boat next to the dock. On impulse, he hopped in and turned the key. It didn’t work.
His father loved this boat. Any good memory with his father included this boat. He sucked in a long breath and told himself to stay in check. There were only seven days until he had to report back to Texas and prepare for the game against the Miami Surf. He had to keep his head straight and his crap together.
He thought about his no-regrets pact with his Rebel teammates. Yes, he could do this. With a huff, he headed back down the dock. Seeing the foreclosure sign again, he pulled out his phone, wondering if he could get a room at the Southport Inn.
It would be good to remember this wasn’t his home anymore. He was here to clear the air with his father before resuming his normal life away from Southport.
Chapter 2
Aspen Roads had a room full of beauty queen trophies. Most of them she’d won before she was twelve. Her mother had been way too into the beauty pageant circuit. Often, Aspen had wondered why her mother cared so much about those stupid trophies; now, she knew her mother simply loved the drama of it all.
“Now you listen to me, Aspen,” her mother said, standing next to Aspen’s station at the Southport Care Center. She’d dressed up in boutique clothing and a sparkly Christmas tree necklace. “You need to take more time off for the holiday. And bring my grandson over more.”
Aspen typed away on her computer, putting in her most recent report. It was hard to keep up with all the computer work and still be a good nurse to people. “I told you, Mom, we’re short-staffed, and everything’s in transition with the new hospital being built.” She kept her voice even. It wouldn’t do any good to give her mom a reason to think she was being sassy. “Plus, you have your trip with Dad.”
Even though Aspen was twenty-eight, her mother thought she still had a say in her life. Like a yippy puppy, she would drive Aspen crazy until Aspen relented.
“Hmm.” Her mother’s long red fingernail tapped the top of her computer. “Well, okay. As you mentioned, Daddy and I will be out of town the next couple of days, but you’ll be alright, right?”
Her mother had told her they were leaving roughly five hundred times. Why did she think Aspen couldn’t do it? With a bored glance, Aspen nodded. “Yes, Mom. I’m a capable woman. In fact, I need to get back to my very responsible job and quit chatting with my mother.”
Her mother sighed. “You know I’m not questioning your capability, I just…Have you had any more knocking in the middle of the night?”
“No,” Aspen said curtly. “It was just those three nights last week.” She regretted calling Bill, the sheriff in town and a family friend. After the incidents, he’d informed her parents, and they’d bugged her about it. “As you know from Bill tattling on me, I reported all of the incidents.”
Her mother still tapped her fingernail on the screen. “Bill told me someone is taking packages off of doors. You should move. Daddy and I think you should move in with us. Our guest house has plenty of room.”
“No.”
“Okay, fine. I won’t start this fight, but we could hire some security. It’s not just about you; it’s about your son, too. My grandson.”
“Really, Mom? Really? You don’t think I know how to take care of my son?”
Her mother went on, as if she didn’t realize how much she was annoying her daughter. “So are you coming out to the house tonight to say goodbye to us?”
She sighed. “Mom, no, I can’t. You know I’m doing that online class, and I have to get all the classwork done tonight.” She tried to study, but she constantly got wrapped up in doing stuff with her son. Or Harrison, her boyfriend. Or her mother. She wouldn’t trade it for the world, but she needed time to finish the class.
Her mother let out a moan. “What about Travis? Can we go pick him up? He can stay tonight, and then we’ll drop him off in the morning before we leave for Charlottesville.”
It was a good idea, and she did need the study time, but selfishly, she liked having her son with her at her little house on Main Street. She’d bought it two years ago before the market had gone crazy. With help from YouTube, she’d been systematically rehabbing the house. She was proud of it, even if it was another thing that sucked away her precious time.
“Say yes,” her mother said, taking her hand. “Then you can study and make your needy mother happy.”
She caught her mother’s eye and smiled. At least her mother had some self-awareness. “Yes, needy would be the word for it.”
Her mother lightly poked her in the shoulder.
Both of them laughed, and the pressure inside Aspen’s chest started to release. For all her mother’s neediness, she was also Aspen’s friend. “Okay.” Her son would be thrilled to go to his grandparents’ new house.
Her mother dramatically hugged her, shaking her red-and-gold Christmas bracelet in her face. “Okay, don’t you worry,” she said. “I’ve got it covered. I’ll pay Lauren, and I’ll pack him a little overnight bag.”
“Thank you, but you don’t have to pay Lauren.” For Aspen, doing things on her own was a matter of pride.
Her mother was already walking backwards, escaping as fast as she could. “Just let me. I’m proud of you and the fact you’re still in school and doing so well for yourself.”
Still feeling a bit patronized, Aspen nodded. She was only one semester away from getting her P.A., and then she would be eligible for an increase in income. That would be worth all
of this. “Thanks, Mom.”
Her mother paused by the door. “Oh, one more thing. You are planning on coming for Christmas Eve, out to the new house, right? For our party?”
Aspen missed her parents’ old house, the one she’d grown up in. Her parents had cashed out the beach house and built a huge house in what her mother called “Dreamland” about twenty minutes out of town. Overwhelmed, she decided to just get her mom off her back. “Sure, Mom.”
“And you’ll bring Harrison, right?”
At the mention of her boyfriend, annoyance replaced disquiet. “Sure, Mom.” Why argue?
“When are you just going to accept one of his proposals?”
“I’m about to pull your grandson sleepover.”
Her mother surrendered. “I’m gone.” She disappeared out of the sliding doors.
Ten minutes later, she was almost done when she felt someone walk up to the station. She kept her focus on the screen; she just had to finish this last sentence.
“Asp?”
Their eyes met and shock washed over her, making her stand too quickly and almost fall backward. “DJ?” Sure, she’d been pestering him with texts since his father’s accident right after Thanksgiving, but she’d never really thought he’d come. He hadn’t come in ten years.
“You okay?” he asked, eyes sweeping her up and down.
Aspen sucked in a breath, suddenly conscious of her appearance. It was the end of a ten hour shift. Today had been a doozy at the care center. She’d pretty much been running since she’d arrived this morning. She knew her hair was messy, and she wasn’t even sure if she’d put on makeup that morning. This was not how she wanted to look when she finally saw him again. Not that she’d ever been able to really imagine it happening. “What are you doing here?”
He crossed his arms. “You told me to come.”
Seeing him in person unnerved her. Of course, she’d seen him on the television. The past year, her son had gotten highly involved in football, and he wanted the television on every time the Rebels played. He knew about Uncle DJ without really knowing him. “Oh.” Dang it. She’d been waiting to give this man a piece of her mind for the past ten years, and now he was actually here. Her mind felt scattered at the disconnect—he was no longer the nineteen-year-old from her husband’s funeral. The sudden reminder made her want to cry.
“Asp?”
She wouldn’t fall apart in front of DJ Madden. Collecting herself, she swallowed and pointed a shaky finger at him. “Don’t use my nickname. You don’t get to use my nickname.”
He frowned.
She didn’t know why it upset her so much. Actually, yes, she did. It sounded like he was still her best friend. Like he still cared about her. Like he hadn’t taken off the night of graduation and never looked back. Like he hadn’t given her that look of disgust on the single day she’d needed him the most. More anger surged through her. She was becoming her mother—falling into complete drama.
DJ’s presence was overwhelming. He was huge, built, and cut, looking fierce and every bit the warrior he was on the football field. There were creases around his eyes. The black shirt he wore stretched nicely over his shoulders. His facial hair was just the right length, and that glorious blond hair was shaved on the sides and longer on top. Unrest stirred within her. This was not good.
How had he completely upended her in a matter of seconds?
“My dad,” he said, as if they were strangers and she didn’t know why he was here. “What room is he in?”
Calming herself, she nodded and turned down the hallway. “Right. This way.”
He followed behind her, giving her space.
She swung back, forcing him to stop when he actually ran into her. The trouble was, he wasn’t a little guy. She lost her footing, stumbling back.
He reached out and held her shoulders. “Whoa.”
Their breath mingled, and chemistry crackled between them with a force she wasn’t prepared for.
He kept her close for a moment. “You okay?”
Aspen was getting her bearings, even though it was taking longer than she’d wanted it to. She ran her hands down the length of her pants. “Fine. Listen,” she said, her mind coming back from the Yahtzee dice that had been thrown at it. “First of all, he doesn’t remember anything most of the time. So don’t have any huge expectations or tell him anything that will upset him.” She clenched a hand into a fist. Telling him anything was pointless. He didn’t care.
DJ frowned, then nodded. “I read all the links you’ve been sending me about Alzheimer’s.”
She blinked. “Oh. Well, good.” She hadn’t been sure he was even reading her texts; he never responded, except to tell her to stop texting him.
His blue eyes were still pale and piercing. Butterflies thrummed in her gut.
“Second,” she said, trying to remember what she was going to rip him about. “Sometimes he’s in a different time. Sometimes he comes back to the present; sometimes you and Travis are five. Or not born. Or he just has problems.” She rubbed her forehead. What a frazzled mess she was.
Dang it. Why did she care? She didn’t!
DJ let out a long breath. The intense mask he wore suddenly broke and he turned away from her, swallowing. That crack of vulnerability simultaneously shocked and melted her. His face clouded and he clenched his jaw, letting the intensity straighten back into place. “Okay.”
She wondered how long he was staying. Where? Did he know about the house?
“Are we done?” he asked softly.
Once again, this man had caused her to lose her sense of time. The past and the now were surging together like a slow stitch on a long cut. She’d assisted on many stitches, and every time, she held the patient’s hand and prayed like crazy it would be over sooner. “Yeah,” she puffed out.
He reached out, taking her hand briefly.
His hand felt warm and foreign. She stared at it.
“Thank you.” He turned and pushed the door open.
She rushed back to her station, muttering, “You’re not welcome at all.”
Chapter 3
DJ hadn’t known what to expect. He’d read all the things Aspen had sent, plus he’d done his own research. The car accident over Thanksgiving had left his dad comatose for almost forty-eight hours. Who knew if he would ever be himself again? Not that Alzheimer’s patients weren’t already in a category all of their own.
At first, he thought his dad was sleeping. The room held a chair and television. An old Western played on the screen, the sound a little too loud for his taste. There was also a little kitchen with a small fridge, a microwave, a sink, and counter space.
His father was propped back in the chair. DJ thought he looked the same, maybe a little older. He didn’t know how to judge that. To him, his father had always been a bit too wrinkled and worn out, not to mention mean.
He pushed those thoughts away and tried to focus on why he was here. Wait, why was he here? Oh—because the annoying nurse down the hallway pestered him to death with guilt.
He hesitated, softly sucking in a breath of air. How had Aspen Roads gotten even more beautiful with time? Her long, thick, curly hair—the hair she’d hated while growing up because it looked like she always had a perm—was now even longer and pulled back in a tie at the nape of her neck. Tendrils of it had stuck out haphazardly around her face, giving her a model-esque kind of look.
She was thin. Too thin, in his opinion. He was surrounded by cleat-chasing women who only talked about how few calories they’d eaten that day. The cleat chasers had fake eyelashes, fake everything. Aspen wasn’t fake. Aspen was truly girl-next-door beautiful. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Her passion about his father proved all over again the reasons he’d loved her way back when. She cared a lot. Plus, she was sincere. Aspen had always been the person he’d gone to when he’d needed to complain about his father.
His brother? They’d been best friends. At least, he’d thought they were best friends.
&nb
sp; Knife-slicing pain cut into his heart, but he tried to sear it before the bleeding could start. He was not here to deal with Aspen. No. That regret wasn’t his fault.
The stench of pine cleaner suddenly hit him. He thought of his mother, her last days in the hospital, her soft hand in his before she’d slipped away from the cancer.
No. He couldn’t deal with that, either. DJ shook himself mentally.
The room was bright, which was also good. He found himself glad that his father was comfortable. Not that his father had ever really cared about his comfort.
DJ moved to the coffee table beside his father’s reclining chair, and he was surprised to see an old picture of him and Travis. The frame was worn, and he remembered the day his mother had bought the frame and put the picture in it for her bedside table.
The picture displayed DJ and Travis in the boat by the dock. They held fishing poles, and their dad stood behind them, a hand on each shoulder. The smiles on their faces stunned him. He remembered catching the biggest fish that day and how proud his father had been. The memory made him suck in a breath and take a step back. It had been his and Travis’s tenth birthday, and their father had taken them out for a “man’s day,” as he’d called it.
Tears misted in DJ’s eyes, and he wanted to strike at the picture—but his attention wandered and another picture stopped him cold. The frame was new, and the boy looked just like Travis.
Immediately he knew this was his nephew, Travis and Aspen’s son. They’d gotten married by a Justice of the Peace before Travis had been deployed to Afghanistan. Travis had actually texted DJ a picture of them in their Sunday clothes, standing with his father and her parents outside of the courthouse that day.
DJ distinctly remembered that day; it had been Clemson’s first game of the season, and his head hadn’t been right. He’d been in a mental tailspin for days after that. And six months later, when he’d gotten word about his brother getting killed in action…It’d been a dark, dark time for him.
