Love Always, Kate

by D. Nichole King

  He stood on the edge of the gravel path facing the elder tree. When I came up next to him, he slid his hand into mine and began to walk forward. The crunch of the snow under our feet echoed off the stones, filling the crisp air. Above us, the clear blue sky reflected the ice plastered to the tree branches.

  Damian slowed his pace as we inched closer to the gray marble. The other headstones faced the entrance to the cemetery while Nora’s and Liam’s pointed toward the tree. Feet from them, Damian stopped and took in a deep breath.

  “It’s okay,” I said, leaning my head against his arm.

  He nodded and made his way around to the tree, keeping his head lowered. My gaze shifted up before Damian’s. The almost identical stones gleamed back at me.

  On the left was Nora’s; on the right, Liam’s. Along with their names, each stone had etched in the middle perfectly matched symbols to Damian’s tattoos. The cross for Nora, the brotherhood arrow for Liam.

  I studied Damian’s expression. His eyes glistened in the sunlight, fixated on the symbols. His nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw.

  “You didn’t know, did you?”

  He shook his head. “Dad did all of it. The arrangements. Everything.” His voice was barely audible.

  With the flowers still in his grip, he dropped to his knees, letting go of my hand. The flowers fell to the snow-covered ground as Damian buried his face in his palms.

  I knelt next to him, not caring about the cold creeping through my jeans, and rubbed his back.

  “I’ve started to come here so many times, but I always chickened out. I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.”

  We sat on the cold ground, staring at the gray stones. Every so often, Damian would lean his head on my shoulder.

  “The tree is beautiful,” I said, after we’d been sitting in silence for awhile.

  “It’s why Dad chose this place. The elder tree represents transition—moving on from this life to the next. Mom would have loved it.”

  Ten minutes later, he reached for my hand and smiled. “Thank you for making me come here.”

  We stood up, and Damian placed the bouquet of flowers on the ledge of his mother’s stone. He kissed the top and whispered something I couldn’t hear. For his brother, he fist-bumped the brotherhood symbol.

  “Miss you, big brother.”

  The wind stirred up behind us, making us both shiver. Damian chuckled, leaned down and kissed me. The cold air gusted around us this time, circling its pleasant chill on all sides.

  Damian pressed his forehead against mine. “I think they approve.”

  He winked in the tree’s direction before we walked to the car and drove away.

  Chapter 23

  February 28

  Sign-ups for golf qualifiers were posted on Friday while I was stuck at home with another headache.

  They’re more frequent now—as Dr. Lowell said they’d be. My good days are really good. But my bad days are getting worse. And lasting longer—two, sometimes three days. I can see it frustrates Damian; he hates going to school while I stay in bed.

  Dad’s been awesome, though. On bad nights, I hear the two of them talking in my room. I clutch the necklace Damian gave me against my heart. He wants so badly to fix the pain, but there’s nothing he can do. We’re still praying for a donor. Honestly, though, I’m not sure they’ll find one.

  She hasn’t said it, but Mom doesn’t want me on the golf course. I think she worries about me getting too hot or that I’ll get a headache and collapse. From what I’ve overheard, they’re working out a schedule so that one of them will be with me at all times while I play. It’s a little overboard, but whatever. As long as I get to play, and they’re happy.

  ~*~

  I squealed and jumped into Damian’s arms.

  “I made it!”

  Thankfully I’d finished the whole week of qualifiers without missing a day. That had been my biggest concern. The last day I felt a little drowsy and scored my worst game of the week: eighty-five. Luckily my qualifying average was good enough to place at the top. Number two, actually, behind senior Lizzie Cowden, our team captain.

  “Congratulations!” Damian swung me around in a circle.

  It was the end of the second full week of March. The snow had melted and the temperatures were rising. The change in the weather had done wonders for my health, in my opinion. My white blood cell count, however, continued to climb according to the last blood draw.

  Damian opened the door of my car for me. “I think this calls for a celebration.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” The smugness of my statement caught him off guard.

  Damian cocked his head and knit his brows. So cute!

  “My second wish,” I said. “And this time, I pick the date. Tomorrow. 9 AM.”

  Damian shook his head. “What’s tomorrow?”

  I smirked, hoping I looked as adorable as he did with the same expression. Considering our conversation in the hospital cafeteria back in November, I figured I needed the extra power.

  “Willow Creek golf course. You’ll need your clubs.”

  “Oh…uh, golfing?” He swept his hand through his hair. “Your second wish is to play golf?”

  “Not just golf,” I said. “Golfing with you.”

  Damian’s tongue traced the corner of his lips. “You know I haven’t played—”

  “Since Liam died. It’s time to change that.”

  “I think I told you that you’d kick my ass. And judging by the score you just put up, I have no doubt.”

  I jabbed him in the chest. “I’ll give you a big handicap, even the playing field.”

  “One condition—”

  “Nope. My wishes don’t come with conditions.”

  “I get to take you to dinner tonight.”

  I suppressed a giggle and placed my index finger on my lips. “Hmm. I guess I can make an exception. Condition granted.”

  “Kiss on it?”

  “When have you ever asked before?” I grabbed a hold of his shirt and pulled his head inside the car window.

  Like he had since qualifiers began, Damian followed me home in his car. I ran into the house, barely able to contain myself. Throwing my arms around my mother, I jumped up and down.

  “Guess who made the varsity team?”

  My mom shrugged. “Tiger Woods.” Of course, he was the only golfer she knew. She kissed the top of my head. “Congratulations, honey.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  I tried not to notice the worried glance she shot Damian, and I didn’t acknowledge the way Damian’s lips pursed together or his knowing nod in her direction.

  After I got off the phone with Dad, I ran upstairs and got ready for our dinner date. Damian simply changed his shirt and was ready to go. I did the works and met him downstairs in a new record time of forty-five minutes. At least I didn’t have to do my hair.

  Damian met me at the bottom of the stairs. “You look amazing.”

  He led me to his BMW in the driveway. He officially had his own parking spot now. Opening the passenger door for me, he kissed the top of my hand.

  “Miss Varsity-Golfer.”

  We ate Mexican food at a local restaurant and laughed at each other trying to balance salsa on our chips before eating them. Though the restaurant technically didn’t have a dance floor, four men played Mariachi on a make-shift stage in the corner. With a mischievous gleam in his eye, Damian stood up and literally danced around the table and offered me his hand.

  I pressed my palm over my mouth. “Uh, yeah. You don’t dance, remember?”

  “Ah, seniorita. Baila conmigo.”

  “Wait! You speak Spanish?”

  “Si, mi amor,” he answered in an awful Mexican accent. “See, I learn stuff in school.”

  “You don’t take Spanish.”

  “I learned about Google Translate in school.”

  I laughed.

  Scanning the room for onlookers without turning my head, I felt all my blood flow to my cheeks. A s
mall child turned in his high chair and pointed at Damian. Two teenage girls had their heads together, giggling.

  “You’re crazy!” I whispered. “Sit down.”

  “No fun in that,” he said and swayed his hips salsa-style.

  Ohh. Wait, no!

  I bowed my head. Damian reached down and lifted my chin to meet his gaze.

  “Come on. You only live once, and I’ve been practicing.”

  “No one else is dancing.”

  “So what?”

  I browsed the tables again. More people were whispering as they checked out Damian’s moves.

  What has gotten into him?

  “No. Way.”

  Damian shrugged. “Your loss.”

  With a smirk, he twisted his hips around and cha-cha’d over to one of the booths. My jaw dropped as I watched my boyfriend in horror. He offered his hand to a white-haired elderly woman. She glanced across the table at her husband, who nodded with a chuckle, then took Damian’s hand.

  As they danced, the patrons applauded. Another older couple rose from their seat and began similar moves to Damian and his partner. Before long, more couples joined in, and Damian allowed the lady to dance with her husband, who cut in.

  His blue eyes hooked on mine, and he winked. He held out his hand again. Since he’d encouraged people to dance, I didn’t feel as self-conscious, but dancing with him meant I wouldn’t be able to watch his hips swiveling, and wow, that was hot.

  When he reached our table, I stood up and took his hands.

  “See? Fun.”

  I laughed and kissed his dimple. “See? Crazy!”

  Damian hugged me to him and rolled his hips over mine. I tried to imitate what the other couples were doing, but all I did was step on Damian’s toes.

  “You may need to add Latin dance lessons to your wish list.” He put both of his hands on my hips to move them himself.

  “Yeah, I’ll never dance again anyway.”

  “Not never. Prom is in less than two months.”

  I hadn’t given much thought to prom with everything else going on in my life. Still, it was a high school rite of passage, an experience I didn’t want to miss. I bit my lip.

  A lot can happen in two months, though.

  “Katie?”

  I jerked my head up. “Yeah?”

  “So, will you go with me?”

  I swallowed. I didn’t want to make promises I couldn’t keep. Forcing a smile, I nodded. “We’ll see.”

  Damian’s shoulders dropped. “Not exactly the answer I expected.”

  “It’s just that…two months…I don’t know.”

  “It shouldn’t take you that long to find a dress,” Damian said. His dimples sunk deep into his cheeks. Then he frowned, his voice lowering. “You can’t think that way, Katie.”

  Damian pulled me into him. I hadn’t noticed that we’d stopped dancing until we started again, this time with my head on his chest.

  “Okay, I’ll go.” I hoped with all my heart that I’d be able to keep my promise.

  Damian hugged me closer.

  When our meals arrived, we stopped dancing. Others continued, and the whole charade seemed to put extra pep into the band. By the time we’d finished our meal, however, the dance floor was empty.

  The night air smelled fresh with a hint of rain. I shivered in the brisk wind. With his arm around my shoulder, Damian walked us to his car. I buried my face into him, starting to feel light-headed.

  “What’s wrong, Kate?” he asked after helping me into the seat.

  I closed my eyes. “Dizzy, that’s all. I’m fine.”

  Feeling his hand pressed against my forehead, I moaned softly.

  “You’re pale,” he said. “Here.” Damian lowered the back of the seat, and I felt him place something warm over me—his jacket.

  I muttered something that was supposed to be “thank you.” Curling up on my side, the heaviness in my head took over, and I fell asleep.

  Chapter 24

  When I awoke to the alarm clock, Damian’s arms were around me. He groaned and slapped the buzzer, silencing it.

  My head didn’t feel like a boulder. A small sliver of relief washed over me. It was strange, though. I’d expected it to last a couple days like the rest of my headaches. I shifted in bed, rubbing my temples. The fuzziness remained.

  “Damian?” I nudged him. “Wake up.”

  One of his lids rose. “Yeah, I’m up.”

  “Tee time at nine, remember?”

  His other lid flew open. “We don’t have to do it today, Katie. Not after last night.”

  “I feel fine. Please? I wanna go.”

  He glided the back of his hand over my cheek. “Maybe you should take it easy today.”

  I glared at him, and he groaned again, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “All right.”

  I kissed him. “Thank you.”

  When I swung my legs over the side of the bed, Damian tugged me back to him.

  “Did you say you feel good this morning?”

  “No headache.”

  A smile crept over his face, his dimples pinching into his cheeks. His hands slipped under the back of my shirt, lifting it over my head. I reached for him, and he kissed me harder.

  ~*~

  It was the perfect day for golf at Willow Creek Country Club. Damian was adamant about renting a cart even though I insisted on walking. He won, of course, and I pretended to be grumpy about it.

  “Ladies first,” Damian said, gesturing in front of him.

  I studied him suspiciously and grabbed my three wood. To make it fair, I had told him I’d shoot from the men’s tee box. After putting my orange tee in the ground, I glanced over my shoulder. Damian’s head was bowed, and he tapped his fingers nervously on the hood of the cart.

  Sighing, I set my ball and took a few practice swings before stepping up. I peeked back at Damian, who shot me a thumbs up. Readying myself, I swung, watching my ball until it bounced on the fairway.

  Damian walked up behind me. “Well, well. I guess I’m up, huh?”

  “Do you need some pointers? A refresher course? ‘Cause, I mean, I don’t want to totally blow you away.”

  Damian grabbed a club out of his bag and sauntered to where I’d just driven one of the best shots of my life. A sly grin spread slowly over his face.

  “I think I can figure it out.”

  I stood back with my hands on my hips, trying to contain a smirk.

  From his practice strokes, I’d never have guessed he hadn’t played in years. His form was spot on. He stepped up, concentrated, and swung through.

  We both watched as his ball rose into the sky in a perfectly straight arch. With my mouth still gaping, Damian came up next to me.

  “How do you like them apples?” he whispered in my ear.

  Still staring at where his ball landed, yards ahead of mine, I puffed out a breath.

  Damian laughed. “You’re cute. Come on.”

  We climbed into the golf cart and sped out over the fairway. I couldn’t take my eyes off him and the gorgeous way his lips curved upward.

  “You said…I thought…” I folded my arms across my chest.

  Damian tilted his head toward me. “And yet the look on your face is priceless.”

  I scoffed and shook my head, unable to hide my amusement.

  “Ah,” he said, pointing. “I think that’s your ball I see first. Hmm. Guess that means you’re up.”

  I leaned over and kissed him to shut him up. “It’s only the first hole.”

  “Whatever you say, baby.”

  My next shot landed on the edge of the green. But so did Damian’s. Yeah, and his was closer—much closer.

  I contemplated my play. To birdie this hole, I’d really have to be on my putting game. I scanned the layout from all angles, trying to analyze every possibility.

  “Wake me up when you’re ready,” Damian hollered, putting his feet up on the dash of the cart.

  I ignored him and set up. Taking my time,
I hit the ball and cringed as it circled the hole and popped out.

  Damian stepped up right behind me, his lips pressed against my neck. “Wanna reshoot? I can let that one slide.”

  “Shut up and go.”

  I smacked him on the butt with my putter on my way off the green.

  He tapped his ball in for a birdie while I settled for par.

  “You can shoot from the ladies’ box,” he said as we drove to the next hole. “It’s only fair.”

  “Nah. I like the challenge.”

  Damian raised his brows. “Wanna wager?”

  I sat back in the seat. “Depends. What’re the stakes?”

  “I win, you tell me your next wish today. I lose, I get to make a wish of my own.”

  I thought about it for a couple of seconds—longer than Damian would have liked.

  He tapped a finger against his mouth. “Oh, come on! Deal or no deal?”

  “I’m trying to see how you spun it since you tricked me the last time.”

  Damian laughed. “No tricks, no over unders. It’s an ‘I win, I lose’ bet.”

  I repeated it in my head. “I win…I lose…” Sounded fair.

  “Deal.”

  We kissed on it.

  Damian cleared his throat. “Shall we?”

  I started to follow him, then I stopped. “Wait a minute.”

  He turned around slowly, fingers pressed over his lips, trying to contain the coy grin.

  “No! No deal!” I shook my head, stunned that he’d fooled me again.

  “We kissed on it. Sealed the deal, baby.”

  “You win either way!”

  Damian strode up to my side, hooking his arm behind my waist. “Will it make you feel better if I promise to return the favor tonight?”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Wanna find out?” His breath tickled my ear.

  My eyes widened. “Kiss on it?”

  Taking my face in both hands, he leaned down and left me breathless.

  Both of us scored par on the second and third holes. Somehow I managed a birdie on hole four after a horrible drive, tying up the score. My real luck, however, happened on the fifth hole when Damian cut it too far to the right, landing out of bounds. He ended up with a double bogie while I wrote down par—with a smiley face—on the scorecard.