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Whiskey Lullabye (Southern Heartbeats, Vol. 2)

Page 2

by Jennifer Rebecca


  I jump out of the shower and dry off as fast as possible. I run into my closet and slip on cotton panties and a matching bra. They might be boring, but I don’t care. I pull on my favorite jeans with the knees ripped out, a tank top, and an oversized sweater. I’m just going to tug on another pair of Sam’s socks and my sneakers when there is a knock at the door. Hannah must have gotten in early. Yippee!

  And it’s a big day. Hannah, my best friend from college is coming to visit for a whole week. My life is perfect. I almost never go back to the moment in the bar where I met Sam. Where I made a choice.

  The sun is shining through the light curtains in the big windows and I am like a cat on my back, basking in the warmth. The days are getting warmer and warmer and it won’t be long before the Texas heat is upon us.

  I vacuum the floors and put clean sheets on the guest bed. I can’t wait for Hannah to get here. She is the other half of my soul. My sister from another mister. As I place the pillows back on the bed, I know we will be up all night laughing and gossiping as always. I can see the fake stern face when Sam will tell us to keep it down. He loves Hannah as much as I do, but mainly because she all but threw me in his arms the night we met in that bar.

  I run downstairs and put Sam’s favorite pot roast in the crockpot with potatoes and carrots. He loves this meal and it goes a long way to his not losing his patience with us when we get to loud and silly. I set the dial to low, so it’s ready just in time for dinner.

  I have just enough time to run upstairs and snatch up a hair elastic off of my bathroom counter and toss my hair up in a bun when there’s a knock at the door, as I race down the stairs. I smile to myself. Sam must have forgotten something. I swear he would forget his own head if it weren’t attached to his body.

  “Sam! Quit playing,” I shout. My happiness exploding from my very soul. “I have to get to the market before Hannah gets here,” I finish as I swing open the front door. But it’s not Sam that greets me.

  “Can I come in, Aliza?” Holt asks me. I’m frozen to the spot. I know in my heart, whatever has brought him here is not good. “Aliza?” he asks again.

  “Sure, Holt. Come on in,” I tell him. “I was just going to the market. Hannah is getting in this afternoon.”

  “I figured as much when I heard you shouting,” he says. “Can we sit down?” My husband’s best friend asks me and I know. I just know.

  “No, Holt,” I choke out. My hands now shaking. “Whatever you have to say you can just say it,” I tell him.

  “Please. Sit down, Liz,” and I freeze. Holt hasn’t called me that in years. Not once, in as long as I have been with Sam, has he called me that.

  “No,” I whisper. “He can’t be gone.”

  “I’m so sorry, Liz. He was killed this morning.” I’m shaking all over, I can’t stop the tremors that rack my body. I’m throwing my head side to side. Refusing to believe that Sam is gone. “They never made it to the game this morning. There was a wreck,” he says.

  “No.” I say. But he keeps going.

  “There was a wreck. A woman, lost control of her car, probably drunk but we don’t know yet, and ran them off the road. Sam hit a tree. I’m so sorry, Liz, he died at the scene,” he finishes.

  “The girls. Are the girls in the hospital? Oh, God. How am I going to tell them their dad is dead?” I ask him. I look up and meet Holt’s eyes. And the sadness radiates from him in waves. I see his beautiful brown eyes are red rimmed as if he’s been crying. “No.”

  “I’m so sorry, Liz. The girls were recovered at the scene as well. They did not survive.” I’m not sure if Holt said anything else.

  All I remember is the bone crushing pain that radiates out from my heart. I hear an animalistic scream. I think that’s me. Holt pulls me into his arms, but I don’t care. Years I dreamed of being here in his arms, right where I am and now that I’m here? Now, I realize the cost. The cost was everything. Or I should say, everyone. And there is no going back.

  CHAPTER 3

  Holt

  The minute the words leave my mouth she screams. I barely have time to catch Aliza when her legs give out. This kills me. Fuck. This is killing me. For years, I have wanted her, loved her, but I loved Sam more. A brother in arms is more important to me than my own wants and needs especially since my brother, Will, was killed in action years ago. But no matter what, I swore I would never hurt her.

  Aliza sobs as I wrap my arms around her and lift her up. I carry her upstairs to the bedroom she has shared every night with my best friend. I carried her in my arms as if she were my new bride, not Sam’s new widow. Our journey is slow. As painful as it is, for both of us, a part of me wants to treasure it. This little memory that I get to keep with me. Because that’s all I get to keep. My heart wants Aliza. Fuck, my dick has always wanted Aliza. But Sam got her. And I got friend zoned for eternity. So I will take this little slice of heaven and enjoy it. Keep it with me. Because in the end, that’s all I get.

  I pull the covers back on her big bed and lay her down on the sheets as gently as a big guy like myself can. I pull her sneakers off, but leave her socks on. I can’t tell you how many times I watched my buddy smile as he told me about Liz stealing his socks because her feet were always cold. Man, did that burn. I think he knew I cared for her, but also recognized my need for everything to be normal between us all.

  I look down at my sweet Liz and think she can’t possibly be comfortable in those jeans and sweater. She has pretty much cried herself into unconsciousness and isn’t even aware that I’m here with her. I carefully pull her sweater over her head and fold it placing it on the chair in the corner. Now her jeans. Do I take them off or leave them? She will kill me when she wakes up without pants. But can she rest like this? I don’t know. I know I couldn’t, but I sleep naked. I’ve never slept in clothes. Well, if I’m already on the road to hell…. I unsnap her jeans and receive no notice. Shit, I’m a creeper. This is for her comfort! I bite my lip as I pull the zipper down and slowly peel them down her legs without her waking up. I fold them and place them with Aliza’s sweater.

  I take one more peek at her and instantly regret it. Plain cotton panties have never looked so sexy. But she’s not mine to look at and she never will be. I pull the covers up to her chin and tuck her in. Before I can help myself, I kiss her forehead. I make my way to the door. I’m going to go make some calls while I wait for Hannah to show up, just in case Liz needs anything, I don’t want to leave her alone tonight. Just before the bedroom door closes behind me, I swear I hear her sweet, soft voice.

  “Love you, Holt,” she whispers.

  I quietly close the bedroom door behind me. “I’ve always loved you,” I whisper as I place my palm and forehead on the closed door.

  I take a deep breath and walk away from the only girl I have ever loved. It’s not the first time I have walked away from her, but hopefully it’s the last. I cannot keep coming back just to let her go all over again. And yet I know, if she called, I would come running.

  I slowly walk down the hallway. And down the stairs. I walk through the house that is quiet as a tomb, my best friend’s house, and sit on his sofa and wait. Liz said that her friend Hannah was supposed to show up today for a long visit. I will have to wait for her and explain what has happened. I tried to call her, but her phone was off. She must have already been in the air.

  So I sit on the sofa in the house that Sam and Liz built and wait for her best friend to arrive. Then, I can bow out. She’ll have Hannah and won’t need me to take care of her any more. And then maybe my heart won’t feel like it has been run over by a truck only to be put through a meat grinder.

  I sit still. I sit quietly, not bothering to make a sound. Lost in my own thoughts. Alone with my grief. I hear Liz cry out in her sleep as I sit with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. She cries out for him and their children in her dreams. Nightmares now, I’m sure. I have gotten up to check on her, but she’s asleep and dreaming. I woke her once, but she said she just
wanted to be left alone. So, here I sit, still as a statue, waiting for Liz’s friend, Hannah, in the hopes that she will help Aliza cope with her grief.

  At a quarter past three in the afternoon, the front door opened to a beautiful, tall, thin woman wearing loose jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. She is nothing like the girl I once knew. She had sneakers on her feet and a large pair of movie star sunglasses on her face. If this woman was Hannah, she wasn’t just here to visit her friend, she was on the run.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she flashes a friendly smile at me when she gets over being startled by my presence. I do not return her smile.

  “Come in and sit down, Hannah.” I say softly.

  “Where is Aliza?” she asks me.

  “Please. Hannah?” she drops the smile from her face and nods before she quietly closes the door behind her. Dropping her duffle bag by her feet.

  “What is it?” she asks with an almost childlike fear.

  “There’s no easy way to tell you, so I’ll just say it. Sam and the girls were killed this morning in an auto accident,” I say.

  “No,” she says drawing her hand to her mouth. I just nod. “And Aliza?” She asks after her friend.

  “She wasn’t with them,” I say softly. “She’s upstairs sleeping. When the shock wears off, she’s going to need a friend.”

  “Okay,” she says firmly, shoring up her strength to help her friend through this tragedy. “Is there anything I can do?” she asks, shoving her long sleeves up as if she were about to get her hands dirty. Unfortunately, she exposes some of her secrets she was keeping under the soft cotton.

  “You can start by telling me who the SOB is who has been wailing on you?” I say sharper than I mean. And instantly regret it when she scurries away from me, pulling her sleeves down as she goes. “I won’t ever hurt you. And any real man wouldn’t either.” I tell her in an even tone as if I was trying to coax out a wounded animal. And really, I am.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says looking away, refusing to meet my eyes.

  “When you’re ready, I’ll be here,” I tell her. “Until then, Liz is going to need you. And in a few days, she’s going to have to start thinking about arrangements for her whole family. I’ll be in touch,” I say as I head to the door, knowing in my heart, my work isn’t done here after all.

  Hannah isn’t the strong, independent woman I remembered from college, now there is a wounded dove in her place and I can’t, in good conscience, leave these two broken women to fend for themselves. And it just so happens, that one of those women has always held my heart. So, I walk out into the late afternoon, knowing full well, I’ll be right back to let her trample my heart all over again.

  CHAPTER 4

  Aliza

  I wake up to the setting sun. It must be about supper time. Shit. I fell asleep. I hope Sam got Hannah settled in the guest room. I struggle to open my eyes. They are swollen and my head is pounding. And then it hits me. Sam is gone. My girls are gone. My life is over. I roll over and grab the cotton covered pillow where my husband rested his head last night. For the last time. I bury my face in the downy softness and scream. I scream for everything I have lost. When my voice is hoarse and my throat is raw, I breathe in his scent one more time. My hot tears still streaming down my face.

  I should have been there. In the car with them. I was with them every Saturday. For every game throughout the season. This one stupid fucking Saturday I wasn’t. Last week, Hannah called and said she needed some girl time, so I decided to play hookey from the last game and get the house ready for my best friend’s visit. I won’t blame Hannah. I refuse to. This isn’t her fault. This is mine. She has a key. I should have told her to let herself in and make herself at home. No, this isn’t Hannah’s fault. This is the fault of some stupid bitch who was drunk at nine am on a Saturday freaking morning. And mine.

  God, what I wouldn’t give to trade places with them. I would sell my soul to let those two beautiful girls grow up. Go on their first dates. Buy them their first bras. Teach them all about maximum chip-chocolate-midol consumption once a month. To graduate high school. College. The world was their oyster. I’ll never get to see Sam, the greatest dad there ever was, walk them down the aisle. I’ll never rock their babies.

  And Sam. Sam was my partner in all things. Since that night in some stupid bar in our college town, Sam wouldn’t let me go. He followed me around like a lost puppy. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. I eventually caved in. He was so sweet and charming. So freaking handsome. No one in their right mind would turn him down. So I didn’t. And Sam loved me from the beginning.

  I grew to love Sam in the quiet nights we spent talking over dinners we cooked in my tiny apartment or watching TV late at night. We talked about anything and everything and he genuinely cared. I thought it was romantic being involved with a Marine. Like it was some old black and white movie. Any moment we’d just break out into song.

  ***

  I found out I was pregnant with Sarah while Sam was in some crazy place he couldn’t tell me about. I couldn’t even send him a Red Cross message because to the government, not only was he not there, he didn’t exist. I had no one but the baby growing in my belly. And I loved her from the minute the plus sign popped up on the little stick.

  When Sam came home from that mission I looked like I had eaten a really big lunch. I was lying in bed in my apartment. By then, he had a key. So in the early hours of the morning, he opened the front door and dropped his duffle by the door. I never heard his boots clomp down the hall. He moved that quiet. Like a cat.

  I felt the bed linens pull back from my body. Since before I found out I was expecting, but obviously was, I’ve been too hot at night. It feels like my body is on fire right about the time I want to lay down, leaving me restless, tossing and turning in my bed, tangling me up in the sheets and blankets. I can’t stand being tangled up in the sheets. It drives me absolutely nuts. Add to that being hot and sweaty and I’m miserable. So I have taken to sleeping in just a pair of cotton panties. Have I mentioned how comfortable the maternity panties are? Life changing, that’s how.

  I hear Sam’s sharp intake of breath as he sees my body. I’m pretty sure it’s because my boobs are huge right now. Like porn star huge. It could also be because I’m naked. But I figure because it’s his baby in my belly when he strips off his clothes, dropping his uniform on the floor next to the bed. Sam climbs in and wraps himself around me, well, my little bitty baby belly.

  “I’m your daddy,” he whispers as he kisses my belly. HE lays his cheek on my belly with his face to me but his eyes are closed. I feel the flutter of our baby for the first time. I know he feels it too when he opens his eyes and smiles at me.

  “Welcome home, daddy,” I say softly. Sam’s smile grows huge.

  “I love you, Aliza,” he whispers. “Let’s get married. Like tomorrow,” he tells me. Not asks.

  “You’re crazy.” I laugh.

  “Crazy for you baby,” he crawls up my body and kisses me on the mouth. Hard. “But first I need to make love to my girl. I missed her too much,” he tells me as he strips off my panties.

  I wrap my arms around Sam’s neck as he pushes inside. I arch my back and moan. My body is so sensitive these days. Just the brush of my t-shirt can be too much to handle and make me cry. But this, this is beautiful.

  “I love you, Aliza,” he tells me as he pushes deep inside.

  “I love you,” I breathe.

  “Always, Aliza,” Sam pulls out and pushes in harder. “Say it. Always,” he pushes in again. And again.

  “Always,” I promise. “I will love you always.” Something in Sam seems to break. Maybe it was a rough mission. Maybe he just missed me. Or the news of the baby. Maybe all of it. But soft and slow seems to be a thing of the past.

  “Always,” Sam affirms as he sends me over the edge. He pushes in one more time before yelling my name and following me over.

  ***

  “D
inner’s ready,” Hannah tells me from the door, ripping me from my memories. Now, memories are all I have.

  “No, thanks,” I tell her, my eyes glued to the window.

  “Okay. Well, I made you some herbal tea,” she says, as she places the hot mug on my nightstand. I’m probably not going to drink it, but it’s the thought that counts. Although, I really wish it was whiskey.

  “You go ahead and have dinner,” I tell her. “I just can’t right now.”

  “I know, doll. It’s okay,” she says softly. I roll over and watch her slight frame walk away. When did she get so skinny? I wonder.

  “I love you, Hannah. Thanks for being here,” I tell her right as she reaches the door. She just nods and walks through.

  I roll back over and hug Sam’s pillow again. This time the tears are silent as they roll down my cheeks. I cry long past the tea growing cold. And then I still cry until I fall asleep. The last thought I have before the darkness comes is maybe tomorrow I will find the courage to leave this world. Maybe tomorrow, I will join Sam and my girls. And with that thought, I can finally rest.

  CHAPTER 5

  Aliza

  I hear birds chirping outside and I can’t help but want to scream. The sun is shining brightly through my bedroom windows. Too bright. I try and crack my swollen eyes open, but they are crusted over. I not so gently pry them open and instantly snap them shut again. The light burns me and my broken heart craves the dark.

  I open my eyes one more time and that cold cup of tea is mocking me. Anger burns in my chest. How the fuck could one stupid cup of fucking tea possibly make me feel better? Will it bring my children back? How about my husband? No? Oh, well okay then. I guess I have this cup of tea as a consolation prize for losing everything. Everyone I love. This is so stupid. I’m so mad. I’m more than mad. I’m furious. I’m livid. But then I think of Hannah. She didn’t do this. She wasn’t driving that car. That stupid fucking car. She just wants to help and doesn’t know how. At that thought, my anger fizzles. I sigh.

 

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