The Forget Me Not Pact (The Secret Author Series, #1.4)

by M. J. Padgett

  Now my son stood ready to marry the love of his life, a girl who was already like a daughter to me. Watching them grow up together was my greatest happiness in life. Doing it with Nina by my side, it was phenomenal. I knew only good things lie ahead, but there was one thing I’d never shared with my son that I felt he needed to know.

  On his wedding day, he needed to know that life wasn’t always daisies and roses. Sometimes it was hard, really hard, but if he stayed by his love’s side and never gave up on her or what they had, then they would survive it together. Nina and I had survived more than our fair share of downs, but the ups made them worth it—and we sure did have a lot of ups. It had been a great life, even with near-death experiences.

  “Dad? Are you alright, or did I shock you into a stupor?” he asked, chuckling again. He was such a good guy, always smiling and doing things to make other people happy.

  “I’m great, son. I... I really can’t tell you what it means to me that you feel that way.”

  He smiled again, much more relaxed than a moment ago. “Okay,” he said. “I lied, I am kinda freaking out on the inside.”

  I laughed and patted his shoulder as his best man pushed through the door to check on him. I waved to him, and he went back out, ready to get the show on the road, but I had one thing to tell my son first.

  “Have a seat, I need to tell you a story.”

  Day 14,580

  Dana

  FEW DAYS IN LIFE ARE more special than when a new member of the family is born. It reminds us that our legacy will live on even when we are long gone. What we did with our lives, the kind of people we chose to be, the hardships we endured—it was all part of the plan. The grand plan of life.

  When my first grandchild was born, Dean and I were sleeping comfortably in our bed in a quiet house. It had been quiet for years, and we longed to hear the pitter-patter of little feet again. Lucky for us, our son was ready for a precious child of his own. I had not, however, expected a phone call at two in the morning.

  Dean rolled over and fumbled around for the phone, finally catching it before it fell to the ground.

  “Hello?” he said sleepily while my poor heart pounded. “Yep, we’ll be there shortly. Give her our love.” Once he hung up the phone, he turned to look at me. “Remember when he was born? Gosh, that was both the most amazing and the most terrifying day of my life. Now here he is, all grown up and freaking out at the hospital,” Dean said, then chuckled.

  Of course, I remembered the day my son was born. I was huge, which was absolute misery for me, but when he did decide to come, he wanted to do it immediately. We barely made it to the hospital before he made an appearance, but once he was in my arms, I knew it was what I was made for—to be his mom.

  Dean got up and pulled on some clean clothing while I went downstairs to put on a pot of coffee. It would be a long night, possibly a long day, but there was nowhere else I’d rather be. I imagined what our granddaughter would look like. Would she have our son’s eyes or her mother’s? Would she be smart as a whip like her mom? Would she have a kind heart and love with everything she had like her dad?

  I climbed up on the kitchen counter and stared at the family photos on the wall across from me while the coffee dribbled into the pot. There were so many fond memories on that wall, and soon there would be another new face. I smiled at the thought of rearranging the frames so I could cram a few more in. Dean would sigh and grumble as he held them here and there, waiting for me to decide the arrangement was perfect. Deep down, he loved it. Maybe he didn’t know he did, but he did.

  I heard him coming down the stairs and smiled again. Gosh, I loved him. I never knew I could love someone so much, then my son was born and I found I could love even more. But it was Dean, back when he was Jordan, that taught me the capacity the heart has for such things. He showed me I was capable of selfless love, and when he walked into the kitchen and saw me sitting on the counter, he grinned. It was that grin that drew me in, and I hoped when I closed my eyes for the last time, I would still see that grin.

  “What are you doing crazy lady?” he asked, but hopped up on the counter beside me.

  “Thinking. Did you know we are about to be grandparents? Grandparents Jor—I mean, Dean. Did you ever think we would make it this far?”

  He laughed and laid his head on my shoulder, then took my hand. “Honestly, I just think every day is a blessing at this point. You don’t look like a grandma if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  I shoved him, and he slipped from the counter. He started laughing again, which forced a smile from me. “You’re such a jerk sometimes, did you know that?” I asked.

  “Yes, but you married me anyway. What does that say about you? Wait, don’t answer that,” he teased. “I’m just glad I’m not the one getting his hand squeezed to death. You, my gorgeous wife, sure are strong when you’re having a baby.”

  “You’ll never let me live that down, will you? Isn’t our incredible son, thanks enough?” I asked, then slipped from the counter to get our coffee.

  “Mmm... almost. I think maybe a kiss would make it perfectly even.” He grabbed my waist and spun me around, then pushed me against the refrigerator. Wow, the memories that move brought back. I smiled into the kiss, which he noticed. It made him smile in return. It was one of the few things our son didn’t like about his parents—our disregard for his embarrassment when we kissed each other.

  He released me, then tickled me and ran into the living room. I rolled my eyes and poured our coffee. When I didn’t follow him, he peeked his head around the corner and smiled. His blonde hair fell from it’s combed place, and it made my heart flutter.

  “I love you, Jordan,” I whispered, our secret still between us, the kids, and a select few friends such as Angela and Paul.

  His smile grew wider, and he came back to me, tucking me close to him. He seemed to know that I wanted that moment of intimacy, the old Jordan and Dana.

  “I love you, too, Dana,” he said, making my heart melt for the millionth time.

  Day 14,580

  Jordan

  SEEING MY WIFE SO EXCITED made me feel excited, and starting our morning off the way we did was perfect. After our son moved out for college, things started regressing a little for us. We realized we could act like kids again, relive some of those years we thought we’d lost. Everything moved so fast once we finally got back together permanently, including starting our family, that we didn’t get the newlywed time alone together.

  Our son was perfect, but spending time with her alone made me feel young again, like the giddy teenage boy I was when we first met. When she called me Jordan, something she hadn’t done in ages, it melted my heart. I wanted, just for a moment, to go back in time and relive our first meeting again. Every time she did something like that, something that took my breath away, I wanted to feel that surge of love like I did the first time.

  She stared out the window as we headed to the hospital. I reached across the car and squeezed her knee, pulling her from her daze. She glanced at me, the same glacial blue eyes and bright smile, then she took my hand in hers.

  “I hope one day I can find the words to explain to you how much my heart explodes when you look at me like that,” I said.

  She ducked her head, and though it was dark out, I was almost sure she was blushing. I hadn’t seen that in a while, but it made me happy to know I still made her feel that way.

  “I’m pretty sure I understand,” she said. “I mean, I’ve felt that way since, oh, about the time you took my hand and dragged me out of a grocery store.”

  “I really feel like they should erect a monument along that brick wall. It’s such a special place to both of us, it seems only right that it should live on,” I said, remembering the moment as if it were yesterday.

  Her smile turned into a frown. “Baby, they demolished that store a long time ago. I thought you knew.”

  “What?!” I asked, nearly driving right off the road. It was silly. It was just a gro
cery store, but it held so much significance in our story; I simply assumed it would be around forever. “I can’t believe they tore down our place. Shoot, tell me they didn’t tear down that old clock tower, too!”

  “No, no, it’s still there. I think the school actually restored it, so there’s that. Maybe we should take a trip there and see what it looks like now?” she offered, trying to restore my faith in humanity. How dare they destroy our grocery store! She was so cute with her hair all messy and tied in a bun. She almost left the house in her pajamas, but I figured I should tell her before we waltzed into the Maternity Ward of the hospital.

  “I think that’s a spectacular idea. Maybe we can steal an old brick or something, just a memento of sorts to bring home with us?”

  “Why, look at you, my little rebel without a cause. I’ll get you a nametag that says Grandpa Rebel and you can wear it proudly—crooked, of course.”

  I laughed at that because it was exactly the kind of thing she would do. That was Nina for you, my Nina—my Dana. She was so darn perfect, despite the mistakes we’d both made in our relationship and our lives.

  Before I knew it, we’d arrived at the hospital. The rest of the family was pacing the floor, but we were calm and collected. We knew our son had it under control, and we knew his wife was strong. We waited with the others for our newest family member, the person who permanently tied us all together.

  It was a long, long night that stretched well into the next day, but when the little bundle came, we heard her from the waiting room. She had a set of lungs, for sure. Our son entered the waiting room a while later to give us the details. Mom and baby were doing great, and we could go see his little girl in the nursery.

  I turned to ask my wife if she was ready, but she was already out of her seat and halfway down the hall toward the nursery. I followed her, watching her dark hair fall from her messy updo with every step. She stopped abruptly and turned around. When she caught my gaze, she offered her hand, which I took without hesitation. Once my hand was in hers, she ran.

  “What are you doing? You’re going to get us kicked out of the hospital!” I yelled, but she kept pulling me along, faster and faster. “Slow down!”

  She ignored me and kept running until we reached the nursery. Once in front of the long window, she stopped, huffing and puffing.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Running, you?”

  I chuckled. “You’re such a pain in the butt.”

  “You love me,” she said, not exactly how the conversation went, but it’s probably what we both felt at that moment just before we kissed for the first time.

  “I do. And look who’s the rule breaker now,” I said just as our brand new baby granddaughter was placed in the bed in front of us.

  Day 30,000

  Dana

  I SIGHED CONTENTEDLY as I gazed at the photos on the wall. Our family. Our child, our grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and even a brand new great-great-grandson only a few days old. What a full life I lived. Every day brought a new and wonderful surprise, and at my age, each day was a blessing in itself.

  But I was tired. All that living, it’ll catch up with you eventually. I was slowing down—who am I kidding? I was lucky if I got to the bathroom in time anymore. Dean was as tired as me, but for some reason, we both kept hanging on. Maybe it was the love keeping us going, maybe more, but while I sat at the kitchen table looking at the photos of my family, an overwhelming sense of completeness took over.

  I’d lived my life, and I was ready for what came next.

  Dean hobbled into the kitchen to see what I was up to. Those days it was the most interesting thing we did, that and hiding each other’s dentures. He still wore his Grandpa Rebel nametag with pride, the silly old goose.

  “What are you doing, beautiful?”

  “Oh, just people watching and reminiscing. What are you doing?”

  “Thought I’d get some ice cream. Want to share?”

  “Strawberry?” I asked.

  “What else is there?” he teased.

  “Chocolate, old man. For decades I’ve been telling you I prefer chocolate, but you never buy anything but strawberry.”

  He rolled his eyes and opened the freezer, then plopped a carton of chocolate ice cream on the counter. “Here, are you happy?”

  “You got me chocolate ice cream?”

  “I did because I love you. Also, because I can’t taste the difference anymore, but mostly because I love you.”

  I laughed at the silly old man, then took the spoon he offered. I took a bite and handed it back to him, the same way we always ate our ice cream.

  “Baby?” he asked, handing the spoon back.

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m tired. Want to take a nap with me?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” I said, already tired by one in the afternoon.

  Day 30,00

  Jordan

  WE CLIMBED THE STAIRS, something that annoyed the heck out of me. We should have asked our son to move our things to the first-floor bedroom long ago, but I suppose the exercise did us good. I was so tired, frankly ready to meet my maker, but my wife seemed content to linger on this earth forever. Where she went, I went, so I continued the same routine every day. Wake up, make sure I was still alive, annoy her all day, then go to sleep.

  Once inside, she pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. Even now, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her blue eyes never lost their sparkle, even though her hair want grey. I stumbled over my own shoes but managed to land beside her in the bed.

  “Be careful, old man. I can’t take care of you if you break a hip,” she quipped, then switched off the bedside lamp. She rolled over to face me, her sweet smile drawing me in again.

  “Have I told you lately how much I love you?” I asked.

  “Not lately. Maybe you should tell me,” she said, teasing me. I couldn’t remember if I had, not that I could remember much of anything, but it didn’t matter. I’d tell her a thousand times a day if she wanted.

  “You know, you’ve always been the well-behaved one in this relationship, but I think deep down there’s a little stinker in you,” I said, then brushed her grey hair from her face. “I love you, Dana Franklin Clark. I love you bigger than the universe, longer than the life of the brightest star, deeper than the deepest ocean, and stronger than—than whatever is the strongest thing in the world.”

  She laughed and placed her palm on my cheek.

  “I love you, Jordan Clark. I love you with all my heart, my soul and everything in between. You are my best friend, my soul mate, my everything in life and in love. You always have been and you always will be. Even when we’re gone from this earth, our love will be the stuff of legend.”

  I leaned forward and kissed her soft lips once more, then her eyes fluttered closed.

  “Sleep tight, my sweet angel.”

  I settled beside her and closed my eyes, dreaming of strawberry ice cream and first kisses and a love that spanned an entire lifetime, and then I went home with her.

  Day 30,003

  Epilogue

  Noah Grayson (AKA Nathan Clark)

  PEOPLE THROUGHOUT THE cemetery were confused. No one could understand why on earth I’d had the wrong names engraved on my parents’ headstone. They’d understand soon enough. They lived a full and amazing life, but not many people knew the details, the actual life events of Jordan Clark and Dana Franklin, the people they knew as Dean and Nina... Grayson.

  My wife, Conor, came to my side and hugged me. Her sweet smile was the only thing that kept me going. We were great-grandparents, but we still had a lot of life left in us. She took a deep breath, wiped her tears, and gazed into my eyes.

  “It’s time. They’re ready for the eulogy.”

  I nodded and walked with her to the front of the tent. It was bright and sunny, exactly like it was the day my parents first met. It was only fitting. My wife sat in the front row with our children and grandchildren, o
ur first great-grand nestled snugly in his mother’s arms. I took the podium with a happy heart.

  “Good morning, everyone, and thank you for coming to pay your respects to my parents. I know some of you are confused by their names, but I’ll get to that in a minute. First, I just want to say this is not a sad day. It’s a day of rejoicing and happiness for my parents. They are together, the way they always were.

  “Someone said to me I must be devastated that both of my parents died on the same day, but I’m actually quite happy. I can’t imagine what misery my father would have been in without his wife, or how saddened my mother would have been without her husband. They deserved to go together, and I am happy they did.

  “Now, for the confusing part. Why on earth did I engrave the wrong names in their headstone? Well, you see, I didn’t. My father’s real name was Jordan Clark. My mother’s real name was Dana Franklin Clark. Shocking, I know.

  “I want to tell you a story about love. It’s funny, really, everyone always tells my story. The story my wife and I share that started with her parents and sparked a family tradition of sorts, but I think the story of my parents is equally, if not more phenomenal.

  “It all started with a pint of strawberry ice cream. A girl and a boy, both teenagers, finding their soul mates in the strangest of ways. They followed each other through life, not always together, but always connected in their heart and their soul. Disaster forced them apart many times, but they always found their way back to one another. I guess I’m rambling now, so let’s get to the story, the real story of my parent's love.

  “You knew them as Dean and Nina. You know me as Noah Grayson, but once upon a time, my name was Nathan Clark. The story I’m about to tell you deserves to be told. It’s their story; it’s my story. It belongs to my kids, to their kids and all the little ones yet to come, because it’s our history. Just like we can never forget the yellow notes, we must never forget strawberry ice cream and crooked name tags, a love that stands the test of time—a love that never dies, even after the lovers are gone.”