by D. Love
Today Only
D. Love
Dedication
This book is dedicated to all the families out there that need to find hope in times of need. Finding hope in times of tragedy is hard, learning to cry together, instead of for one another. I hope this book brings light to the love and value of family.
Most of all, this book is dedicated to my family. I love you Rita, Kayla, Jodie, Derinda Ann, Brayden, Raena and Aubrey.
Acknowledgements
First, I would love to thank everyone for walking through this long journey with me.
My love to:
My sweet friend, Jennifer Pringle, for always taking care of me and for sending me Lizzy.
Lizzy Ford for stopping her life to help me transform this story into a book, for being a great mentor, and telling me my technical aspects sucked! Thanks for putting up with all my OMG’s and what if’s and for being a force of goodness. My love will never have an ending for you.
Nanette Bradford, for writing a beautiful poem for Jett and Rye.
A huge thank you to Airicka Phoenix for creating a beautiful cover that turned out exactly the way my heart saw it, and for also listening to me cry and worry so much, and always loving me.
A big thank you to Heather for always supporting me and keeping my schedules together and for all the emails and pressure you endured from me.
A special thank you to MaryAnn for beta reading it for me.
There are so many of you I am scared to name, because I might forget one. The girls at YATR: I love you all! Fellow bloggers and pages and authors: I love you all, too. Without each one of you, this would not be happening. Everyone in my life: I love you and am humbled by your goodness.
Thanks dpgroup forum.
Memories Of You
Your strength, your laugh, your eyes …
I miss them everyday …
Your smile, your heart, your love …
Were mine in every way …
My strength was tested, my world thrown apart …
But my love, your memories I carry in my heart …
Forever and always I will love you till the end …
Love now, love great, love forever …
Till we meet again.
- Nanette Del Valle Bradford
Chapter One: Rye
My time here is dwindling. Everything around me – my body, the transition from winter to spring, the height chart marking the growth of my daughter, Emily – reminds me that the hourglass that is my life has only a few grains of sand left.
It’s my first thought this morning. I awoke early for a fundraiser, the Big Walk for March of Dimes. I start off with my daily routine. I jump in the shower, trying not to notice how much the droplets of water hurt my skin. The sting is too much this morning. I get out quickly, dry off and throw my hair in a simple ponytail at the base of my neck. I catch my reflection in the mirror and stare at myself for a minute.
Just a little longer? So I can watch Em grow up?
My mirror doesn’t have an answer for me.
"Come on, Em!" I call to my daughter. "Get your shoes on, before we’re late."
I turn away from the mirror, then hurry into the living room and grab Emily by the hand.
"You ready Em?" I ask. Whatever dread or fear I feel in front of my mirror fades at the sight of Em’s beautiful blue eyes.
She looks up at me with the biggest smile, and exclaims, "Yes!"
We hop in the car and head towards the Walk. My daughter’s eyes are glowing.
"Mama, this is going to be the best walk ever," she almost squeals in excitement. The innocence of my little angel never fails to humble me.
She doesn’t yet understand that this might be my last Walk with her.
"Yes, honey, this is going to be the best walk ever," I agree.
A short drive later, we arrive at the starting point in the parking lot of a local elementary school. Already, the lot is crowded with cars and walkers. The four-mile jaunt starts here and extends down the rail trail running along The Kennebec River. With the river on one side and beautiful blooming trees on the other side, the setting for the Walk is serene and peaceful. Hopeful. The perfect place for such an event.
We get out of the car. I run my hands down my shirt and stretch my arms. Four miles was a distance I used to walk every morning. But after months of treatment, my body feels fragile, and I tire quickly. The once easy distance now seems like a cross-country hike uphill.
Give me strength, for Em’s sake, I whisper to the sky.
Sweetly unaware of my thoughts, Em takes my hand, and we walk together towards the sign-up table. Once we register, the lady working the table tells us to go stand down by the markers at the mouth of the trail. I turn to follow her instructions and bump into someone.
"Excuse me," I murmur and start to walk around the tall man.
"Rye? Rye Silcox?" he asks.
"Yes." I stop and look at him curiously. "Do I know you?"
He points to his chest and says, "Jett Conner from school, you don’t remember me?"
He has neatly cropped black hair and dark blue eyes. His body is athletic, his eyes warm. The Jett Conner I remember from school didn’t look like this. That Jett Conner was nerdy and wider than he was tall, no small feat, given he’s a foot taller than I am.
"I do remember a Jett Conner from school, yes," I answer slowly. I swirl my finger in the air then point it at him. "But you are not the Jett Conner I remember from school at all."
He just smiles and says, "I hope that’s a compliment," then leans over to sign his forms.
He has a really nice smile. I shake my head at the unexpected exchange. Em is tugging me towards the trail, and we join a group of people headed the same direction.
Everyone around us is there for the same cause, from mothers pushing tiny babies in strollers to the laughing teen girls huddled around their smart phones to the more serious runners wearing iPods strapped to their arms to entire families. We are there to raise money to eradicate a disease that will take people, like me, from their angels, like Em.
We start walking, unrushed on this gorgeous spring morning. The walkers around us are cheerful and take time to soak in the beautiful, sunny day. After a long winter, spring weather in Maine has never met a more welcoming crowd than us. It is still a little crisp but the sun is so bright, I'm sure it’ll warm up by noon. Em is as fascinated as I am by all the colors of spring and pauses every once in a while to point out bright flowers or blooming trees. Winter is slowly saying goodbye.
I recall the first time I walked down this path, when I was fifteen. I was trying to figure out how I was going to tell my mom I was pregnant. I was so sure she was going to kill me. I had a huge fight with her when I was fourteen. Over a boy. She was always in my business and dictating every part of my life. This argument over her forbidding me from seeing some guy was the final straw. I exploded and walked out. Yes, I drove a car without a license, took mom's car without permission and ran away – all on the same night.
At the age of twenty-five, I can’t imagine how that type of drama seemed so real to me when I was younger. I still blame it on hormones. I love my mom. As a mother myself, I understand now that her strictness was born of love and the desire to help me become the best person I could be.
Unfortunately, my teenage self had to learn lessons the hard way. After the fight with my mom, I went to live with my father, hoping he would be less strict than I considered my mother. I know now that I acted out of anger, and I learned my first real adult lesson: Anger is often followed by unintended consequences that we never want to face.
Having been raised by my mother, I used to dream about what it would be like to have a father around. But that dream never came true. My father was the opposite of my mother; he w
as too self-absorbed to care much about me or what I did. I was pretty much on my own. With my mother, I felt like I was suffocating. With my father, I felt lost.
Soon after moving in with him, I fell for a neighborhood boy. A few months later, I was knocked up. As soon as I found out, I called my mom. I returned home not long after that, fifteen and pregnant. My mom was strong and determined to help me finish my education and find a way to support the baby and myself.
She didn’t turn me away or condemn me, like I expected her to. No, my mother showed just how good of a person she was. I learned that lesson, too, the hard way. The only good thing about learning lessons the hard way: I’ll never forget them.
"Mama, you okay?"
I pull myself out of my thoughts. I look down to see Em gazing up at me expectantly.
"Of course I am fine, honey," I tell her.
"I’ve been talking to you, Mama," she said with the irritated impatience of a child. "You need to sit?"
"No, baby," I assured her. "Mama is fine. I promise."
At age of twenty-five, I still feel too young to be a mom, but here I am walking next to this great gift. My daughter Emily is ten-years-old with dark blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s about four feet nine inches tall now. She looks just like my mother, though people always say Emily looks like me, too. I figured it's because she wears glasses, like I do. I am five feet nine inches tall, dark brown hair and blue eyes. I am not skinny by any means. I’ve got meat on my bones, as Mom says. I’m average, not overweight, just – normal. I have always had to work to maintain my weight, which is a struggle, because I absolutely love food.
Em, on the other hand, is more like my mother: slender and blond.
"Excuse me. Did you drop this?" The male voice startles me.
I swing around to see Jett, waving a piece of paper. I’m struck again by how different he looks. With a daughter to watch and a terminal tumor in my head, I can’t remember the last time I was remotely attracted to a man. But I think … he’s handsome.
"Ummm, no, I didn't, but thank you for asking," I reply.
Em walks around me and reaches for the paper.
"Yes, sir, that’s mine. Thank you," she says cheerfully.
Jett gazes down at her. His eyebrows bunch together, almost like he's asking her a question without saying anything.
"What is that, Em?" I ask, not recalling her carrying anything with her.
Quickly tucking it into her pocket, she mumbles – "Nothing" – the way a child does when she’s hiding something but trying to make it appear as if she’s not. Then she turns and starts walking again.
I am about to say something to her when Jett distracts me again.
"Hello, again," he says with a corny smile. "Remember me? Jett Conner from school." He offers his hand. There’s a twinkle in his warm eyes that I like. "Are you enjoying the walk?"
"Nice to see you again, Jett Conner," I say, my mind still focused on Em’s little secret. I face Jett long enough to shake his hand briefly, then slide both hands into my jeans pockets and start to walk away.
"Hey, wait. Would you mind if I walk with you?" he asks.
"Sure," I reply. "We better get a move on or this walk will last for days."
He joins me. Em is a few steps ahead, stopping occasionally to pluck flowers from the riverbank or from the branches overhanging the path.
There’s an initial awkward silence between Jett and me. I sneak a peek at him. Yes, I decide. He really is handsome. Not something I need in my life, but still not bad to look at. He catches the look and smiles. My face feels warm.
"I remember you differently from school," I say, embarrassed by my thoughts. "You were kind of nerdy."
"I get that a lot," he admits. "So, you don’t think I’m nerdy now?"
There was no quick come back for that, because he wasn’t even close to being the same guy I knew in school. He’s in shape – muscular even – with a quick smile and an upbeat air. He must be wearing contacts, because I recalled the thick glasses he used to wear clearly.
"What’s the big plan after the walk?" he asks Em.
Em, skipping along beside us, replies in a sing-song voice. "We’re going to lunch and Mama is getting the biggest ice cream ever. You wanna come?"
"Sure. Why not! I love ice cream."
He’s wearing a huge grin. I’m standing there with my mouth hanging open, but I don’t say anything. I just start walking, silently wishing I hadn’t told him he could accompany us down the trail. The last thing I need in life is a man to complicate things.
"You keep in contact with any of the others from school?" Jett asks.
"Not really," I reply.
As we walk, we talk a lot about school, weather, even sports - anything but ourselves – to keep the awkward quiet from returning. I’m surprised to find myself enjoying the chatter. Jett is fun to talk to, his chipper attitude contagious. Faster than I expect, we reach the finish line and claim our complementary bottles of water. We stand around and drink, listening to the sounds of others talking beneath the cool shade of trees. My eyes are on Em, and I can feel Jett watching me. I’m not really sure what to do or say. Or why I feel like a teenager who might be getting a crush on someone.
"So are you following us to lunch?" I ask.
"Yes," Jett says. "Is that okay?"
I probably should say no, but I nod instead. We walk in silence towards the parking lot. I take Em’s hand, leery of the chaos of the parking lot with all the cars leaving and milling walkers.
"That’s me," Jett says and points to a huge, white Dodge Ram 1500. The tires aren’t much smaller than Em.
"I’m two over," I tell him and indicate the worn-out blue Toyota.
Em and I got into our car. I hear her snickering as she fastens her seat belt. Starting the car, I glance at her.
"What’s so funny Em?" I ask.
She looks up at me and begins wriggling her eyebrows, singing, "Bow chica WOW WOW."
"Oh, my gosh, Em!" I exclaim. "What are you doing that for?"
"Mama, he’s perfect for you," she says. "Nana says you need a man to take care of you, and I like him."
"No, I don’t think so," I reply quickly. My heart somersaults at the idea, and I fumble to put the car into gear. I pull out of the parking lot, not even watching to see if Jett's following. Part of me is hoping he gets lost along the way, even though I have to admit that I enjoyed the walk with him.
We arrive at the café where we go for breakfast every once in a while. Em’s seatbelt is twisted to the point that the release button is on the wrong side, which happens sometimes in my ancient car. After a brief struggle, she gives up with a sigh.
I lean over and twist the buckle over to maneuver it open. I take off mine next, when suddenly, my door opens. I look up to see Jett casually holding it. He’s smiling again. This time, his smile makes me feel warm inside.
I exit the car, and he pushes the door closed then waits for me to walk ahead of him. A perfect gentleman, which I find odd in this day and age. As we are walking into the café, I spot my Aunt Kim behind the counter, waving at me. I wave back and go straight to our normal table. Aunt Kim works here on the weekends, and we’re sure to stop by every once in a while to see her.
"You two want the regular?" she asks, stopping at our table.
"Yep," I say. "Bacon, eggs, biscuits and hash browns." Breakfast is my favorite meal; I'll eat breakfast for lunch or dinner, any chance I get.
"Smilies!" Em says in excitement, referring to the smiley face pancakes she’s gotten here every time we visit since she was five.
"And you?" Aunt Kim is looking at Jett curiously. As far as the family knows, I’ve never had a date, and I’ve definitely never dined with a man here before.
"Double cheeseburger," Jett says.
"For breakfast?" she asks skeptically.
"Yes, ma’am."
"Alright. Those will be right out." Aunt Kim winks at me, which I ignore. She sweeps up the menus and disappears into the ki
tchen.
"So what do you two ladies do, when you are not walking for charity?" Jett asks us.
Em jumps right in, before I can say anything. I’m astonished to find she really has taken to Jett in the short time they’ve known each other. Not that Em has ever met a stranger. But this is different. She actually likes him.
Chapter Two: Jett
I listen to everything Em is saying, about how she attends Manchester Elementary. This is her last year; she will be graduating in three months, and her excitement is visible in her animated features. She’s intelligent and a very strong girl for her age. I keep glancing over at Rye, waiting for her to speak. She’s quiet and shy, eating her food and almost looking as if she is daydreaming while Em entertains me.
She’s beautiful in an earthy way. Her eyes have such a shine to them. Tall and shapely, she has curves in all the places a woman should. There’s something fragile about her, though, that draws the protective side of me. I joined the military and took up a medical profession, because I have a natural instinct for taking care of people.
Finally, she says quietly to Em, "I think he's heard enough." Then she looks at me. "So, Jett Conner, tell us about you."
I’m staring at her like a love-struck fool when I realize she’s asked me something. I choke on a French fry in my haste to answer.
"What would you … like to know?" I ask between coughs.
"What do you do for work?" Em asks promptly.
Rye is eyeing her daughter, and Em makes a face. I laugh, charmed by the non-verbal exchanges between mother and daughter.
"Well, I just finished a four-year rotation to Iraq and am finally home for good," I start. "I work at Maine Medical Center now."
They stare at me, wide-eyed. I stop, wondering what part of my short explanation surprised them: Iraq? Four years?
"What did I say?" I ask when they remain quiet.
Suddenly, both of them start laughing.
"You’re a military man?" Em is the first to recover.
I nod. "When I was sixteen, I went into the National Guard, until I graduated. I joined the Army full time straight out of high school."
