Happy Ever Never

by Brittany Holland

  His head slowly shifts up and then down as if sensing my waning patience. “I’d say three to four weeks should be ample time to start.” His eyes burn into mine as he speaks, saying a thousand more words than his mouth.

  “To start?” I stare at him exasperated and resume folding the clothes to give my hands purpose, needing something to do to prevent them from trembling.

  “We can’t just pack up and take off indefinitely,” I stress, and his eyes darken as the mood shifts.

  “Willow, you packed up and took off for five years,” he throws back in my face, his comment knocking me square in the chest. Tears pricking the corners of my eyes, I turn to leave the room to retrieve my things, not wanting him to see the hurt reflected there.

  He gently grabs my arm stopping me from walking out of the room. “Look it’s only a few weeks. Is that really too much to ask?” And he’s right. I hate that he’s right, and even though going back is more than just getting on an airplane, I can’t let my fears of returning keep Drew from this time with Piers.

  “No, I suppose it’s not.” One glance at his hold on my arm has him releasing me. Trying to inject some courage into my voice and falling short, I continue, “But Drew’s nursery school, my job...”

  “Oh, the illustrious W. M. Taylor,” he says with a knowing smile. Thankfully my jaw stays firmly in place and doesn’t fall to the floor. Of course he had his people check me out as soon as Drew mentioned my stories. You can’t hide anything from this man. Well, not entirely true considering I disappeared for years, but I’m done hiding. Something tells me, even if I wasn’t, he would find me this time.

  “Just bring your supplies. You can work from there if you must. And it’s nearly summer, Drew will be fine.” I stare at him impassively, and the observant bugger he is, he reads the questions in my eyes. “How did I know, about your job? I only found out last night, but I must admit, I am curious, what does the M in your name stand for? Since, we both know your name is Wilhelmina Jane.”

  “Well, aren’t you a regular Sherlock Holmes?” I bite back, annoyed at the teasing reminder of my birth name when I see the mischief in his eyes.

  “I get using your mother’s family name, Taylor. You didn’t want to be found...” He steps closer to me, too close. The nearness of him does things to me it shouldn’t, and his eyes have gone soft, and the way he’s looking at me makes me think for the slightest of seconds that he’s forgotten I shattered his world. It’s not that I want him to hate me because I don’t. But I need him to keep his distance. It’s safer that way. For everyone.

  “It’s just that there is so much I don’t know.” He lifts his hand, and before it can stroke my cheek, I step back from him, both physically and emotionally. Breathe.

  “It’s for Mary, my grandmother Darling. Satisfied now?” Crossing my arms over my chest, trying to hold my own, I stare back at him. “If we’re going to make the flight, we need to get things prepared, not make idle chit chat.”

  “You’re right, plenty of time for that in flight.” He takes the hint. “Where is Drew?”

  “He’s upstairs napping. Why don’t you go on up and check on him while I finish up down here?” He nods. “And grab his suitcase for me. It’s at the foot of the bed.”

  “Alright.” He complies for once.

  When he leaves the room, I sink down into the chair at the table, putting my head in my hands, cursing myself for agreeing to go back to London with this man. If I can’t even stand over clean linens in a kitchen, my kitchen, and hold my own, how will I survive being stuck on a flying death trap with him in a transatlantic flight? And that’s not even taking into consideration what being back in London will be like. The memories that haunt my dreams, they will be manifest once I step foot off that plane.

  Taking a deep breath, I stand, determined to put feelings and memories aside and resume the task at hand. Packing for our trip. I focus on thoughts of Drew, seeing the city and Everlend for the first time, and find myself feeling a little hopeful that this won’t be a mistake.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  PIERS

  I slowly climb the worn wooden stairs and allow myself the luxury of staring at all the photos that clutter the pale-yellow walls. Willow and Drew at a pumpkin patch, under a Christmas tree, riding a carousel, standing ankle deep in the ocean surf. I can almost hear the sounds of laughter, the music of the carousel, and the waves crashing on the shore. Smell the scent of the pine, the salty air and the sugary treats.

  I stand heartbroken in front of a wall of moments that I missed out on. Walking further up, I see more photos of Drew, swaddled as a baby, him crawling, covered in baby food, in a bubble bath...complete with a little yellow rubber duck. So many memories that I never made. Then my eyes find a picture of Willow, sitting alone beneath a massive tree in a white cotton dress. She’s looking down, smiling. I follow her gaze and see her hands protectively resting on her swollen belly. Even though her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, she looks gorgeous. My breath is stolen; except for the swollen belly, this was the Willow I remember. The girl with flowing mahogany hair and a dreamer’s eyes. She was far from alone. I was the one alone. I was the one halfway around the world while she was here, building a family. My family.

  I’m angry and heartbroken, all at the same time, that the one person I truly trusted betrayed me in the one way that could hurt me the most, preventing me from having my heart’s true desire. I reach the top of the stairs and take the second door to the right.

  Upon entering my son’s room, I find that he is still fast asleep. Looking at his sweet little face as he lies there, deep in dreamland, moves me in a way I’m not familiar with. It’s as if he’s a ship, and I’m the ocean, and he has dropped anchor on the heart of my being, forever staking his claim on me. In seeing his dark lashes splayed across his cheeks, rosy with slumber...the gentle rise and fall of his chest that contains his heartbeat, I’m conquered.

  Seeing his innocence and knowing my blood flows through his veins. It’s everything. Yesterday, it was...It all happened so fast. I never expected to find this, when I showed up here. As much as I want to hate Willow for this, I know I could never truly hate the woman who gave me the greatest gift. I feel the anger leave my body, replaced with an overwhelming love. A love that I have never known before now. The love of a father for his son. And even though I wasn’t there for his first breath, I’ll be there for him until my last.

  I sit at the edge of his bed, resting my hand on his back, careful not to wake him, and take in the room around us while I feel his steady beating heart beneath my palm. Dark, wooden furniture that’s seen better days, second hand I’m sure. A very unique, quilted, pirate blanket covering him. The pale blue walls are covered with drawings and pictures of pirates and treasure maps. A large, ship wheel adorns one wall, bookcases flank either side of a window, complete with a window seat nestled right underneath, perfect for gazing at the stars and story time. A white tent made of sheets hangs from the corner over a fur rug.

  An incredible room for an incredible little boy! I would’ve loved having a room like this growing up. I would have loved just having my own room. I can see that with every drawing and every single object placed in this room, she has poured her heart into providing the best she could for Drew.

  He starts to stir beneath my hand, and I don’t want to be in the room when he wakes up for fear of scaring him. Unfortunately, I’m still a stranger to this boy. I gently caress his hair before I stand to leave the room. Taking one last look over my shoulder before I head back down, a picture on the nightstand catches my attention. I’m not sure how I didn’t see it before. Walking over, I pick it up to find it’s a picture of Willow and me when we were kids. Underneath the photograph in beautiful calligraphy, the mat on the frame reads The Adventures of the Girl and the Lost Boy. I remember this day...it was the second summer she had come to visit Everlend, and we were playing on the big trees in the garden outside Wendy’s house. She must have taken this picture without us knowi
ng. We had cut our thumbs with a dull pocket knife, pressed them together and vowed to be best friends for life, before her uncle came and told me to get lost. And lost I was, until she found me...we grew to be so much more. Promising to make new vows to be together forever...then she left me. And lost I stayed.

  Grabbing the photograph, I place it in the top of the suitcase and zip it up. I make my way back downstairs with his bag and try not to look at the photos that taunt me on my way. As someone who has spent a good portion of his life with his feelings turned off, I’m feeling them all in full force today. Anger competes with forgiveness, hurt battles understanding and love. I need to clear my head.

  “I’ll take the bags out,” I call back to the kitchen. It takes two trips to retrieve the bags that she placed on the landing. I decide to wait outside and walk away from the house, this home that I’m merely a guest in, at best. Checking my watch, I see that it’s nearly time for our flight to leave, and my mood improves. While most fear the sky and dread flying, I welcome the feeling of control it gives me. Control is something I struggle to keep in Willow’s presence, but that has to change. I have to keep the upper hand. Getting her to agree to go back to London was easier than anticipated...getting her to play by my rules will be much more difficult. But I’m not afraid of a challenge. I’ve had a lifetime of practice.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WILLOW

  Sinking down into the plush, beige, leather seat, I close my eyes and release the breath I’ve been holding since take off. I was so preoccupied with making sure Drew was secure and properly buckled that I actually made it through take off without having a full-blown panic attack. His endless questioning about the plane and the flight was a welcomed distraction.

  As much as I hate flying, I’m glad to see he’s at least enjoying himself. I’m also pleasantly surprised that Piers is giving him his undivided attention, allowing me a reprieve from his watchful green eyes. Pools of green that I could drown in, eyes that hold me captive. Always have.

  I feel a hand brush mine. I know it’s him; I can feel the zing all the way down to my soul. He gently caresses my hand while I continue taking deep breaths, keeping my eyes shut so the moment isn’t broken.

  “Still afraid to fly, my little Willow,” he teases, hot breath tickling my ear.

  “Flying was always your thing,” I reply.

  “So, it was,” he says sadly, releasing my hand, prompting me to open my eyes and look to my left where he sits, his face somber and guarded.

  “Why did you give it up then?” I wonder out loud.

  “I don’t really know. I guess it just wasn’t the same after—” He stops, turning his head.

  “After I left,” I finish, and he nods.

  “Don’t look so sad, Willow. It’s not all about you.” He bumps my shoulder, dare I say, playfully. “I started taking more advanced business courses at the University and found I had quite the knack for it. There wasn’t much time for flying after that.”

  “Mr. Nichols and guests, it’s now safe to move about the cabin. We’ve reached maximum altitude,” the Captain announces, causing Drew’s eyes to widen in anticipation. Piers has promised him a tour of the cockpit.

  “Come on, Mummy; it’s time,” Drew urges.

  I reach to unbuckle my belt when Piers suggests, “How about just you and me, mate? We’ll give your Mum a rest, yeah?”

  I nod my appreciation as they head for the front of the plane. Things are still a bit tense between us, cordial at best...I guess that’s to be expected.

  “Care for a drink, miss,” asks the attendant as she appears. She’s young and attractive.

  “Water would be lovely, thank you,” I reply, slightly self-conscious of my rumpled state.

  She returns, and after thanking her, I take a sip of the cool sparkling water, letting the bubbles settle my stomach before setting the glass down. Another long breath passes over my lips as I lay my head back and allow myself a moment to collect my thoughts. Or at least attempt to. But my mind has other ideas. It sees eyes of green, but not the jaded green of the powerful man who was next to me seconds before. Instead, they’re vibrant green, eyes full of life and mischief that belonged to a young man. Until the light was snuffed out...by my mistakes.

  A moment turns into two, and before long I feel myself easing into the dreamlike state, one only slumber can bring.

  A gentle tap, tap, tap of cool wetness flutters across my cheek, waking me from the best dream. Piers and I planned out our forever. And it was more than childhood hopes and dreams or wistful pillow talk of young lovers. Plans so tangible I could almost feel them in my hands.

  As I sit up, it all comes flooding back to me, causing the rain drops to roll down my cheeks like tears. But the only tears appropriate are tears of joy. I should be wondering why I’m alone in this makeshift bed in the garden, but I’m not. Not in the least. Because for the first time in my life, I know I’m not alone.

  My fingertips lightly trace swollen lips that part into a smile. The gentle ache between my thighs reminds me what I both lost and gained last night. Standing up to my uncle, defying his wishes, my aunt and uncle fighting about us, and Piers doing what Piers does best, rescuing me.

  Escaping to the garden. Giving myself to him body and soul...him offering the world at my feet. A penniless orphan who had nothing to give but his heart, but that was more than enough. It was all I ever needed. Wanted. Craved. Dreamed of. Now it was coming true.

  A picnic under the stars in our secret place. White twinkling lights, music and laughter. His touch, his kiss. Promises.

  The rain starts to pick up, and I scoot closer to the base of the tree for shelter, pulling the blankets with me. When I do, I see a note tucked under my pillow. Taking it out, I see a sweet message in his distinct penmanship.

  My dearest Willow,

  Leaving you sleeping was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. As the sun rose and breathed watercolor life into the darkened sky, I couldn’t help but think about how you have done the same for me. And as I watched the light erase the shadows from your face, I’m hopeful for the plans that we made. The light to my dark, the hope to my despair.

  Which is why I had to go. Last night was...there are no words to describe how incredible it was. I have things to get ready for our departure. Meet you here at midnight.

  Remember, like the story...that place between sleep and awake, that’s where I’ll be waiting. That’s where I’ll always love you.

  ~ Piers

  Paper crinkles as I clutch the note to my chest, salty tears mixing with the falling rain. His words are balm to my soul, and all my doubts are washed away.

  But not all rains are gentle and cleansing. Some turn into ruthless storms, washing away everything in their wake.

  Lightning flashes, jolting me awake.

  Gasping for breath, it takes me a moment to remember where I am, my mind still teetering between reality and the past.

  CHAPTER SIX

  WILLOW

  Everything is just as I had remembered...and yet, nothing is the same.

  Heavy iron gates curve out from grey stone pillars with lantern tops, opening to reveal a long driveway flanked by massive oak trees.

  As we near the house the gardens come into view, my breath catching at the sight. Time cannot erase the beauty of this incredible place.

  Even though the gardens hold most of my secrets, seeing them again makes my heart a little lighter. Which is the complete opposite of the reaction I expected to have. Maybe it’s because Drew is here, and I can’t wait to show him where I spent most of my childhood. A place we hadn’t been able to visit before now. A place I wasn’t sure if he would ever see.

  I rid my mind of the unpleasant thoughts and focus on doing some sketching while Drew explores the hidden most parts of the gardens.

  The elegance of the stone, the softness of the flora and fauna. It’s been well tended in Wendy’s absence from what I’m able to observe from the back of the car.

 
I feel Piers’ heated gaze. A quick glance in his direction confirms he’s watching me as I gaze upon the place that was my refuge in my childhood.

  The gardens that hold so many of my favorite memories and even more of my secrets. My eyes drift down to the sleeping boy whose head is nestled in my lap. I run my hand though his hair and take a deep breath before speaking softly to him. “Drew, time to wake up, sleepyhead.” He stirs and snuggles deeper into me.

  “Let him sleep. I’ll carry him in; no need to wake the lad,” Piers says while looking thoughtfully at Drew.

  “But he won’t want to miss—” I start to argue but bite my tongue, turning my attention back out the window.

  When I look at the house, I’m struck by how it feels like it’s been frozen in time. It’s been here well over 100 years, so it’s not like I expected it to have crumbled. But seeing it now, after five years away, it’s as if I just walked out those doors yesterday.

  I sit up a little taller in my seat to get a better look as Piers’ driver pulls in front of the main entrance.

  Anna, the housekeeper and my nanny when younger, stands on the porch smiling, waving a handkerchief. Standing next to her, looking as stuffy as ever, is old Mr. Roderick, the groundskeeper.

  I lift my arm to wave then drop it back down, realizing it’s no use behind these tinted windows. The movement causes Drew to wake and lift his sleeping head. After all the excitement on the plane, I’m glad he was able to get a quick nap in.

  “Are we there yet, Mum,” he asks, his drowsy voice quickly transitioning to wide awake mode.

  “Yes, dear.” He unbuckles after I nod that it’s okay and climbs across my lap to press his face to the window to see.

  “Wow!” he exclaims. “You didn’t tell me you grew up in a proper castle!”

  Smiling, I ruffle his hair. If he only knew the dragons I would have to slay while here.