Everlasting Love

by M. S. Brannon

  I open the door wider, and she comes into the building. I quickly lock the glass door and usher her back to the office where she sits on the couch and wails out her pain. All the resentment I have toward her evaporates.

  Once I fall to her side, wrapping her quivering body in my arms, Delilah falls in close, laying her head on my chest and releasing her pain. I wait a few more minutes before I ask, “What happened to him?”

  “Mother said he had a heart attack this morning. It was quick, and there wasn’t much anyone could do for him.” She sobs again, and I pull her tighter into my body. Old, painful memories resurface when I feel her crying into my shoulder.

  The last blow like this happened when Presley was killed. She was a mess, and I was there to hold her and comfort her. It was also the same time I realized how much I love her. Seeing her heartbroken in the pouring rain woke up my heart. I knew right then and there that she was the one I wanted. I didn’t want anyone else. I only wanted her. And today, I can say it’s still the same feeling. I will only love her, but love can only get you so far in this world. It barely kept us hanging on to each other until yesterday when it finally snapped.

  “Jake, I need to ask you a huge favor.”

  I think I know what she wants, and of course I will stay with my kids while she goes to the funeral. I will give her all the time she needs to mourn. She doesn’t need to ask me to take care of my kids.

  “I need you to come with me to Memphis.” Uh, what? “I cannot face my mother alone. She will be on a warpath. I can already see it, and I don’t know if I can deal with that right now. Look”—she sits up and wipes the tears from her cheek—“I know things between us are horrible, and I know I’m asking you for a huge favor, but all I want is to put our differences aside so I can bury my father.”

  “D, I don’t know.” I rub the back of my head and stand from the couch. My legs begin to pace, the whiskey in the fridge calling my name. I shake back the urge and face her sad face. Dammit, I can’t say no to her, not right now. “All right, I will go, but you can’t bring up the old shit. I won’t be stuck with you in a car for fourteen hours if you’re going to nag me about everything.”

  “I won’t, Jake, because I don’t care about our issues right now. I just want to get to Memphis and say goodbye to my father.” Delilah stands from the couch and wraps her arms around my waist. “Thank you, Jake. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  I hold her back, knowing this trip will either break us for good or finally mend the old wounds left gaping open in our relationship.

  ***

  The next morning, I pull into the driveway promptly at seven.

  I spoke with Randy, who said he could manage the small workload we had for the next few days. I cancelled a few of our appointments yet kept the ones I knew Randy could handle without my assistance. My clients are great. They understood, and even if they didn’t, I don’t really give a shit.

  I exit the vehicle, feeling the cold chill move down my spine. The arctic air makes my breath become a smoky dance through the air as I walk up the ice covered path and open the front door.

  When I step through, I see Delilah’s bags piled next to the couch, the house is picked up, and I can smell the sweetness from Delilah’s homemade cinnamon rolls. My stomach grumbles, and like a dog, I follow the scent into the kitchen.

  Sitting on the stove is an untouched batch of warm, gooey goodness staring back at me. All I want to do is savagely rip a roll from the others and devour it. However, I don’t. I keep control and wait until my kids have eaten, but that doesn’t stop me from swiping my finger along the waxed paper and tasting the cream cheese icing. I miss this as much as everything else. Delilah is a great cook. She always manages to have an amazing meal on the table every night for her family. I swallow down the pain before I allow it to take over my sanity.

  When I turn around, I can hear the kids running toward me. My smile explodes from my face because it’s been so long since I got to hold them.

  I bend down and scoop up the first one in my arms. Quinn looks beautiful as she gives me her big, toothy smile. Of all our children, Quinn has an equal mix of both Delilah and me. She looks just like her mother: lots of golden blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and she is short and sassy. However, my baby girl’s personality is very much mine. She’s such a little shit sometimes, but you can’t help but love her.

  I kiss her on the cheek. “Hey, darling. How’s Daddy’s girl?”

  “Hi, Dada!” Quinn wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me on the cheek.

  Kade and Hale fly around the corner with their wild bed hair and WWE pajamas on. They both tackle my legs, almost knocking me over with Quinn in my arms. I set my daughter on the floor and start pushing on the boys. Rough housing is an understatement with these two. When they’re not eating or sleeping, they are wrestling. They are so much like me and my brothers when we were little. Jeremy, Drake, and I were always rolling around on the floor, beating each other up.

  The thought of the past causes a twinge for a moment. I miss my brothers, but they left me. Drake’s still around, but after what I said, he might as well not be. He hates me. I hate me. I can’t deal with that shit right now, though. I have a very long few days to get through with Delilah. I need to focus on making it back in one piece.

  “Dad,” Kade interrupts my thoughts, “what do you call a fart?”

  “I don’t know, buddy, what?”

  Kade turns around, passing gas and giggles, “Aroma.”

  “Dang, dude!” I shout as the smell of rotten eggs fills the air. “How the hell does your little body produce such a horrible smell?”

  “That’s not horrible, Dad. It smells like roses.” Kade giggles uncontrollably, making the entire kitchen erupt in laughter.

  These are my boys. If you can’t tell by their looks, you can definitely tell by their stellar personalities. God, I love my kids. However, one is missing.

  I start to move from the kitchen to go find Jett when Delilah comes in carrying his tired body. Jett has never been a morning person. Right now, he’s resting his head on his mom’s shoulder, half awake and quiet.

  I walk up to Delilah and look at my sleepy boy. He sits his head up and smiles before he wiggles and leans over for me to hold him. I take my son from Delilah’s arms and hold him against my body. It takes no time for him to settle in and rest his head back down on my shoulder. I rub his back while watching my family. It feels like an eternity since I have witnessed the everyday morning routine, something I once was a part of and something I obviously took for granted.

  Delilah looks beautiful in the morning. Her hair is piled on top of her head, and she’s wearing a tight T-shirt and yoga pants. Even with no make-up, she radiates beauty and grace by simply being her. I often wonder how the hell she even came into my life.

  She was so different from anyone I had ever met, and I was attracted to her instantly. She claims she felt the same about me from the start, but I don’t think it really happened until we went to Vegas for Reggie and Darcie’s wedding. I could see it in her eyes then, and every once in a while, that twinkle still shows.

  Cinnamon rolls plated and chocolate milk poured, all the kids sit around the table as Delilah turns on the morning music. Jett is still resting in my arms. He hasn’t really moved since I took him.

  There’s a knock at the back door, and I look to Delilah, wondering who the hell could be coming here at seven in the morning. Then I see my niece Mia walk in, followed by Zoe and my brother.

  I look over to him and he looks to me, but no words are exchanged. The guilt floods in, but when he glares in my direction, it dissolves, and I find it hard to keep my anger under control. The old, familiar ache begins to surface, making me want to find a drink as soon as possible. I can’t have one, though. I have to prove to Delilah and myself that I’m not a drunk. The longer I’m sober, however, the more I feel like I could possibly be one.

  “Long time, no see, Uncle Jake,” Mia says. I
’m grateful for her distraction.

  “You, too, Axl. What the hell have you been up to? Beat anyone up lately?” I tease. She gives me a roll of her eyes. “Yeah, I heard about your little incident on the playground during kickball.”

  “Well, it’s not my fault people don’t want to play by the rules.” Once Mia smiles and comes to my side, I bend down and kiss the top of her head while still keeping Jett tight in my arms. We’ve always remained close over the years, even after my kids were born.

  Zoe starts talking to Delilah about the kids, and it’s then I realize they will be watching them while we are gone. Delilah is going through a routine she must have put down on paper as they discuss preschool schedules, bed time, etc …

  I look over to my brother, watching him smile at my kids. He has yet to say anything to me, and I feel like I should say something to him, but what? I can tell he despises me, and with good reason. I don’t remember saying what I said, but when Delilah kindly reminded me what my drinking had done, I felt like the biggest asshole.

  Still holding my son, I walk over to Drake. “Thanks for watching them.”

  The smile from his face evaporates as he shoots me an icy glare. He turns his body slightly and swells up his chest. Really? You’re going to act like this in front of my kids? Okay then, asshole, two can definitely play at this game.

  “I’m not here for you, just so we’re clear.”

  “Thanks for reminding me, brother,” I snap back, my tone mirroring his.

  “Brother? You’re no brother of mine.” Drake’s tone deepens and gets quieter with every spoken word. He is trying to keep his composure, as am I.

  I want to fly off the handle. The anger is starting to boil, and my throat is starting to burn even more. Whiskey—my body is yearning for the calming serum, but it also wants to punch this fucker in the face.

  The guilt over what I said is gone, everything is gone. I just want to deck him.

  I look over at Delilah to see a worried yet angry look on her face. She knows when I’m about to blow. It only takes her look to calm me enough to turn my back and walk to the fridge. I pull the container of orange juice and start chugging it down, hoping it will satisfy my craving. It does nothing, but it keeps me distracted.

  Jett finally sits up in my arms and looks into my eyes. His eyes are tired, but his smile is gleaming. Such a cute little man with dark brown hair, dimples, and his mama’s blue eyes. Of all my children, Jett is the calmest. He’s a lover, not a fighter. Sometimes he reminds me of Drake when he was little. Drake was always willing to hug it out versus fight.

  “Are you coming home, Daddy?”

  The question takes me by surprise. He looks so innocent and curious yet so sad. I know he misses me living with them, and frankly, so do I. I really don’t know what to say to him, so I tell him just that.

  “I don’t know, buddy. Why don’t you sit down and eat your breakfast.” Damn, I feel even worse now. The burn is back, so I chug the remaining juice, hoping to God it will do something to calm the raging ocean inside my gut.

  We managed to leave the house an hour after Jake arrived. I think that is good, considering I have never left my babies for an overnight trip. They have always been tucked in by me, and I am a little sad. However, they couldn’t go to my father’s funeral. They are too young, and the fourteen hour car ride might get me committed by the time we got to Memphis. Sweet as they are, my children are horrible car riders.

  The tension between Jake and Drake was very thick. Seeing them almost come to blows in my kitchen threw me over the edge. They have some serious issues to resolve, if they can ever be resolved. Jake is stubborn; therefore, I have a feeling he will hold onto his pride a lot longer than necessary.

  I don’t want to think about Jake and his problems with his brothers or me, for that matter. I want to keep my head clear and focused so I can get through the next few days with my mother, who I do not look forward to seeing. Our relationship hasn’t been the same since I left Emerson at the altar. She has blamed me for years about the social engagements she missed all because I walked out on “the best thing that happened to me.” She’s met my kids yet doesn’t really care to get to know them. My father, on the other hand, loved my children. He called to speak to them on the phone all the time, and once he figured out how to use Skype, we would video chat at least once a week.

  My children loved their papa. When I told them he died, the boys cried for the entire day. Kade and Hale were unbelievably sad, and Jett kept asking me questions about what happened. It was very hard to answer him, but I managed to get through without any major breakdowns.

  I don’t know what I would have done if Jake wouldn’t have agreed to come with me to Memphis. He loathes my mother, and for good reason. He also loves to piss her off. As I had figured, it didn’t take too much begging for him to come. Now, I merely need to get through the next few days without wanting to rip his throat out, or me ripping my clothes off. After all the shit we have dealt with in our relationship, we always manage to find ourselves naked somehow.

  I look out the window of Jake’s truck, watching the world go by at eighty miles per hour, when Shinedown comes on the radio. A small smile creeps on my face as I think of the song that reminds Jake of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him tense up, but I don’t want to look. I keep my eyes fastened on the window, recalling the great memory of when he finally told me the meaning of that song.

  I had officially moved to Sulfur Heights, and I was bunking in Jake’s room at Reggie and Darcie’s house. The family was still very tense after everything that happened to Drake and Jeremy. Regardless, Jake and I managed to be happy.

  We were driving to our little watering hole when the song came on the radio. Jake turned the music up, and in a moment that completely shocked me, he started singing it to me. He doesn’t have a great voice, but it was so sweet. I took the time to really listen to the words and was speechless. He was saying he would follow me anywhere, and if I went down, then he was right behind me. He was saying he would protect me no matter what and do anything in his power to make me happy. I remember the tears falling from my eyes when I listened to the words. I remember thinking how lucky I was to have someone that dedicated to me.

  As the memory floods back in, the tears soon follow. I want more than anything to get back to that happy state. I miss the blissful moments, the overwhelming feelings of love, and knowing he would do anything for me. He is my one true love. I will always feel that way about him. However, I will not continue to fight for him to show me the love I deserve.

  What we have is passionate. We are the perfect combination of tnt and a match. In one moment, we can explode with unadulterated pleasure and happiness, and in the next, we are exploding in anger.

  His warm touch rips me apart as he covers my hand with his, intertwining our fingers. As I look over at him, he gives me a consoling look that makes the tears fall faster from my eyes. This, this right here, is the Jake I miss. He picks me up when I need to be comforted and doesn’t hesitate. He simply does.

  He then lifts my hand and kisses the top. Nothing is said, because nothing needs to be said. With this small gesture, Jake is telling me he’s here for me and won’t leave my side. Just like the song, he wants to protect me and take all the pain away.

  I wipe my face with my free hand and try to erase the broken, sad thoughts that we may never get happiness together again. Then I clear my head and focus once again on getting through this weekend as best as I can.

  ***

  The night is black, but the stars are shining from the sky. When we pull into Memphis, Jake and I locate a hotel near the funeral home and step from the truck. My limbs are stiff from the long drive, and I’m ready for a hot bath and sleep.

  I tried to sleep on the trip yet couldn’t manage to get my mind to turn off. When I am stressed out, I can never sleep. Too many thoughts invade my mind, keeping me far too distracted.

  The air is cool for this time of year; however,
the fifty degrees feels like heaven compared to the twenty degrees we left in Michigan.

  After I open the back door of the truck and pull my suitcase out, Jake quickly comes to my side and takes it from me. I nod with appreciation before we make our way inside. The room is already paid for, something I will have to thank my mother for tomorrow.

  Jake and I locate the elevators and find our room on the seventh floor. It’s with a king sized bed, TV, dresser, and desk, nothing special. What I didn’t realize is that she would book us a room with one bed.

  Then it dawns on me. My mother knows nothing of our problems. I haven’t told her, because I’m not ready to hear “I told you so” come from her mouth.

  The sleeping arrangements will be hard, but I’m sure we can manage to get through the next few days without incident.

  I giggle to myself, knowing how hard this will truly be.

  Jake looks over to me and cocks his head to the side. We haven’t said much to each other in the last fourteen hours.

  “What’s so funny?” The smile on his face is infectious, and I smile right back at him.

  I point to the king-sized bed and giggle again. “This weekend just got impossible.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Not only will I have to deal with saying goodbye to my dad and tolerating my mother, but now I have to manage sleeping in the same bed with you.” I look over to him and give him a wry smile.

  “Is that a bad thing?” Jake puts our bags down, abandoning them on the floor. He stalks his way over to me, and I practically melt with desire. It’s been so long since we have had moments like this, so long since he’s been stone-cold sober. The last few times we had sex, he always had alcohol in his blood stream.