by Lexi Lawton
He carried their bags inside and kicked the door closed behind him. “Where do you want these?”
“Oh, uh… Follow me.” She led him through the living room and up the stairs. Stopping at the first door on her left, she went in. “This is the guest room. Nammy Joyce used to use it for her sewing, but you can stay here. My room’s down there.” She pointed to the last door at the end of the hall. “And the bathroom is right next to your room.”
Xander dropped his bag on the floor, then carried hers to her room. He glanced around, noting the matching floral comforter and curtains and the collection of stuffed animals in the corner. “This is nice.”
“It’s not much, but it’s always been home.” She shoved her hands into her pockets. “I’m going to take a shower. Make yourself at home.”
He went back downstairs and explored the house. There were so many pictures sitting atop the mantle. A lot were of Kylie throughout the years. In fact, there appeared to be a school picture of her for every single year. In one, she wore a purple dress with her hair in pigtails, and her front tooth was missing. There was another of her with a woman who was an exact, older replica of Kylie.
Carefully, he lifted the framed photo and studied it closer. The woman had to be Kylie’s mom. She was stunning. No wonder Kylie was so damn beautiful. There wasn’t a single photograph of Kylie’s father, though. No big surprise there. He returned the photo to its place and moved across the room. There were spelling bee and science fair trophies lined up on a bookcase. Several framed awards hung on the wall, including her high school diploma. She’d graduated with high honors?
Great. She was crazy smart, and he was on the verge of flunking out of college. He shook his head, truly realizing how wrong he was for her. Taking a deep breath, he walked into the kitchen, which was small but quaint. Decorated in sunflowers, the space was cheery. A small table sat in the corner, a vase of long-dead flowers in the center. They looked like they’d been there for as long as Kylie had been gone. Afraid the sight of them might upset her, he emptied the flowers into the trash, then set the vase in the sink.
Forty-five minutes later, Kylie stood at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a black dress and matching heels. Her hair was swept back in a headband, and there was a touch of makeup on her face. “Wow, Ky, you look…” He couldn’t even think of a word for how amazing she looked.
Even though it was the worst possible timing, he wanted her with an unparalleled desperation. He exhaled, his nostrils flaring.
She glanced down at herself, then back up at him. “Thank you.”
“Well, I should probably get ready, too. We have to be at the church in an hour, right? You don’t mind if I shower, do you?”
“Wait. What? You’re going to the funeral with me?” Her tone was full of disbelief.
Was she serious? “I planned on it. Unless you don’t want me to…”
“No, I do. I just didn’t think you’d want to.” She reached out and touched his arm. “It would mean a lot to have you there.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
“Towels are in the top cabinet in the bathroom. Just holler if you need anything else.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and ran her tongue over her bottom lip.
“Thank you.” His heart constricted, and he fought to take a breath. God, he wanted her. He wanted to scoop her up into his arms, carry her to her room, lie her down on the bed, and show her exactly what being near her did to him. He wanted to make her feel things she’d never felt before, make her forget about the loss of her grandmother, make all her pain disappear. But the things he wanted to do to her, to her body, weren’t exactly fit for a virgin, which is exactly why he had to keep his distance. He swallowed hard and nodded as he headed upstairs.
Chapter Twenty
Kylie got out of the car and stopped. She swallowed hard and stared at the large, brick church looming in front of her. The second she walked through those doors, all of this would become real. She’d never see Nammy Joyce again after today. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she shook her head, her body frozen.
“Ky?” Xander touched her shoulder, snapping her out of her daze. “You okay?”
She sniffled and nodded, knowing she couldn’t speak without losing her composure. He slid his hand down her arm and then laced their fingers together. The sweet gesture made her breath catch, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from sobbing.
With a slight nod, she took the first step toward the church. He gave her hand a gentle but firm squeeze. Without him, she never would’ve made it inside. There was a line of people waiting to pay their respects at the open casket. She needed to see Nammy Joyce one final time, to sear her image into her mind so she’d never forget the only person in the world to truly love and care for her. But how could she say good-bye? How could she acknowledge that the woman she loved more than her own parents was gone?
Xander held her hand as they waited in line. Several people she barely knew approached her with condolences. She smiled and nodded and thanked them. And before she knew it, before she was ready, she stood in front of her grandmother’s casket. Nammy Joyce looked exactly the same as Kylie remembered: short, silver-gray hair curled around her face; high cheekbones and a thin, slightly crooked nose. But the life, the fight, the spirit of the woman Kylie loved was long gone, and this person in front of her was nothing more than a shell, a placeholder.
She took one look and turned her head, burying her face against Xander’s chest. “I can’t do this,” she mumbled.
“Okay,” he whispered and turned her away from the casket. He led her to the first pew and sat, his hand still entwined with hers.
“Kylie?”
She glanced up into the friendly, familiar face of Sheriff Rick. He was dressed in uniform, his hat clutched in front of him. “Rick.” She stood and gave him a hug.
“I’m so sorry, hon.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you were able to make it.”
He gave a quick nod. “Your grandmother was a wonderful woman. She’s going to be missed.”
“She is.” She shifted on her feet. “Rick, this is Xander Collins, a close friend from college.”
Xander stood and extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise.” Rick shook Xander’s hand and then patted Kylie’s shoulder. “Be sure to let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“I will. Thanks.” When he walked away, she sat back down. Kylie stared straight ahead, fighting to hold back her tears. There were a lot of people here she knew and equally as many she didn’t. But the one person who should be here wasn’t. And she would bet anything he was out getting drunk. What kind of man would rather be in a bar than paying respects to his own mother? Her stomach lurched, and she cupped her hand over her mouth. She could see it all now—Dad would stumble into the church in the middle of the service, drunk and belligerent, screaming about things that had happened years ago, things that no longer mattered. He’d yell that his own mother had kicked him out of the house. He’d point his finger at Kylie, accuse her of stealing Nammy Joyce’s love from him, something he’d done numerous times before. Then he’d pick a fight. Well, if he tried, at least Sheriff Rick was here to help.
Closing her eyes, she drew a shaky breath. Dear God, please don’t let my father ruin this day. You’ve taken Nammy Joyce from me, don’t make me suffer any more. She twisted in the pew and looked toward the doors, which were being closed by two pall bearers. Kylie let out a small sigh of relief. Maybe he’d get so drunk he’d pass out and forget all about the funeral. Her brief encounter with him earlier was enough to last her the rest of her life.
Pastor Bruce walked to the front of the church, and the crowd quieted. He opened with a prayer that she wasn’t familiar with, but the words were beautiful. “Joyce Jane Quinn lived a long and fulfilling life. I had the pleasure of speaking with her days before she passed. It was one of her more lucid moments, and we spoke at length about what she wanted to happen t
he day she went to meet our Lord and how she wanted to be remembered. She was certainly a woman with a lot of fight in her.”
The crowd chuckled softly, and Kylie managed a small smile. Nammy Joyce was the most direct, tell-it-like-it-is person she had ever known.
“She made it clear she didn’t want today to be a day of sadness, but rather a celebration,” Pastor Bruce continued. “A celebration of great love. Joyce found the love of her life when she was sixteen. Hank Edward Quinn.”
Kylie’s lips trembled at the mention of her grandfather. She’d never had the chance to get to know him, but she’d heard enough stories and seen enough pictures to feel like she did. The way Nammy Joyce had always spoken of her late husband, the undying love and admiration and respect, made Kylie dream of finding a love as strong as theirs. She glanced at Xander, and her heart broke even more.
Nammy Joyce had once told her that she would know when she’d found the one. It probably wouldn’t make sense, but there wouldn’t be any doubts, and she would feel total peace where it mattered the most—in her heart. And that’s exactly how she felt with Xander. At total peace. But as the days passed, she was more and more convinced he didn’t return her affections.
“Joyce and Hank married when they were only eighteen, and soon after, she learned she was pregnant with what would be her only child. A son. Her life was on the path she’d always imagined, but God had different plans for her. Tragically, she lost her husband to the war. During our last talk, she told me her heart never fully recovered from losing Hank.” Pastor Bruce cleared his throat as if he were having trouble keeping his emotions in check. “I wish I could stand up here and tell you she found another true love, but she didn’t. She’d made a vow to Hank, and she swore to keep that promise to him until they were reunited again in Heaven.”
Kylie’s throat burned with tears. She’d seen firsthand how hard it had been for Nammy Joyce all those years. Even though she’d never said it, Kylie knew her grandmother had been lonely. There was only so much companionship a young girl could give to a woman who grieved daily for her husband.
Pastor Bruce tilted his head upward. “Give Hank a hug from all of us, Joyce.”
The first tear slipped down her cheek. Xander reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a tissue, and handed it to her. She took the tissue and dabbed at her eyes, unable to look at him, knowing if she did, she’d deteriorate into a blubbering mess. Did he realize how sweet he was? How much she needed him?
“Despite losing the great love of her life, Joyce carried on. She knew she had a purpose on this earth, and nineteen years ago, that purpose became clear.” Pastor Bruce glanced in Kylie’s direction. “Joyce was given the most precious gift of a beautiful granddaughter. Kylie, would you like to say a few words?”
Kylie momentarily froze. She wanted to honor her grandmother with something sentimental and profound, but she wasn’t sure she could form the words. Xander brought her hand to his mouth, kissed her knuckles, then released her, an encouraging look in his eyes. Her lips trembled as she tried to smile at him. She stood, nervously wiped her sweaty palms on her dress, and then approached Pastor Bruce.
He embraced her in a warm hug. “Speak from your heart.”
She looked out at the crowd. It was standing room only, which confirmed what she’d always known—Nammy Joyce had touched a lot of people’s lives. Except for her own son’s, apparently, because he still wasn’t there. If she dwelled on that too long, she’d never get through this, so she shifted her gaze to Xander, who was staring at her intently as if trying to give her the strength she so desperately needed at that moment.
“I lost my mother when I was six,” she began, her voice low and hesitant. “Nammy Joyce stepped in and filled the hole my mother’s death had left in my life. And when my father started his…” She frowned. “Suffice it to say, my father was a source of both joy and disappointment in Nammy Joyce’s life.” She cleared her throat, refusing to tarnish her grandmother’s funeral with talk of her lowlife father.
“Nammy Joyce took me in and raised me. She taught me everything I know.” Kylie smiled at all the things she’d learned from her over the years. “She taught me to read and write. She taught me how to tie my shoes, how to dress myself, how to cook and clean, how to drive. While all that is useful, it’s the life lessons I will remember the most. She taught me to never be afraid, to go after what I want, to speak my mind and not let anyone tell me I’m not worth listening to.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Xander smile and nod as if he were agreeing with the way she had been raised. Seeing him smile encouraged her to keep talking.
“Shortly before I left for college, she made me promise her a few things. First was that I’d graduate college and get a job doing something I loved. Second was that I’d live every day to the fullest and not spend all my time trying to take care of others, which she was always yelling at me for when I was here. Boy, did that woman have a sharp tongue.”
That earned her a few laughs, and even she chuckled.
“But it was her third request that has stuck with me. She told me I needed to find my own Hank.” Kylie inhaled a shaky breath and purposely kept her gaze away from Xander. She was afraid what sort of expression she’d see on his face, and she couldn’t handle the rejection she knew would be there. “We’d had a lot of talks about Hank, and I remember asking her once if she regretted falling in love so young. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, ‘Now why on earth would I regret something like that? My years with Hank were some of the happiest of my life.’ Of course, I couldn’t let it go.”
She shook her head. “I said, ‘Yeah, but that love also gave you years of sadness. Was it really worth it?’ She smiled at me and patted my hand, then said, ‘Child, someday you’ll find your own Hank, and then you can ask me that question.’ At the time, I had no idea what she meant. Still not sure I do.” She laughed nervously. “But I do know that the love she shared with Hank made her able to open her heart to me and to so many others. She was an amazing woman, and I wouldn’t be standing here as the person I am today without Nammy Joyce. She made me who I am, and I will never get the chance to show her how grateful I am that…” Her voice gave out. “That she loved me and…and cared for me when…”
Her throat clogged with tears. “She loved me and cared for me when no one else did.” Her words hitched on a sob, and she hung her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook, and she was powerless to stop the pain tearing through her. This was all some horrible nightmare, a bad dream she’d wake from any moment. Nammy Joyce wasn’t dead. She wasn’t. Kylie covered her face with her hands and cried.
Xander approached and hugged her. She clung to him, her tears coming harder and faster until she was on the verge of wailing. She gripped his shirt and looked up at him, desperation consuming her. Everything inside of her hurt, raw and bleeding and threatening to destroy her. Without a word, he ushered her out the side door. He sat on the steps and pulled her down onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder.
“Shh,” he whispered, stroking her hair and back. “I’m here, Ky. You’re not alone.”
His words only made her pain sharper. He might be here now, but how long would he stay? Would their relationship ever move forward? Or was she destined to be stuck here forever, spinning her wheels, never moving or evolving, doomed to die a virgin? She had no idea how long they sat like that, but eventually, her tears stopped, and she pried her arms from around his neck. “I’m sorry.” She forced a smile and wiped her cheeks.
“Don’t apologize.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her face. He stroked his thumb across her cheek, catching a few of her lingering tears. “Are you ready to go back in?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I can.”
“We can stay here as long as you want.” He put his arms around her, clasping his hands around her waist and pulling her a little closer. “All
those things you said about your grandmother… She’d be proud of you.”
She chewed on her bottom lip and fought back more tears. After everything Nammy Joyce had done for her, that was all she wanted—to make her proud. Her grandmother would’ve loved Xander. The two of them would’ve butted heads, but they would’ve had fun doing it. She could see them laughing and joking and teasing her. How she wished he could’ve met Nammy Joyce.
More tears pooled in her eyes and streamed down her face, and she wiped them away the best she could.
“I think I’m ready to go back in.” She wasn’t, not really, but she couldn’t stay out here any longer.
She headed toward the door. Inside, the memorial service was over, and people mingled. She wasn’t in any mood to stick around and be social, but when Pastor Bruce came over and hugged her again, she knew she needed to stay a bit longer.
“Your words were beautiful, Kylie.”
“Thank you.”
“Some of the women from Bible study have put together refreshments in the main hall. Stay as long as you’d like.” Pastor Bruce put his hand on her back in a gesture meant to be comforting, and then he walked away to speak with some of the guests.
“Do you want to stay?” Xander asked.
Kylie momentarily closed her eyes and tried to calm the storm inside her. She didn’t want to be here, to have to say good-bye to her grandmother, to be so close yet so far away from Xander. Everything hurt, and she didn’t know if she’d survive the pain.
“Kylie.” Paige, a friend from high school, walked up, her eyes red with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Kylie hugged her. The two of them had been close in school, but they’d drifted apart during their senior year.
“She was like a second mom to me.” Paige sniffled. “I’m still convinced she got joy out of scolding us.”
