Giving In to You (The Giving Trilogy Book 1)

by L. M. Carr

  The realization hits hard that I’m only going to have a few more mornings like this before I head back to work, so I lounge in the Adirondack that Shelby sat in last night, sip my coffee and look through the trees at the quiet lake. My body slouches into the chair and I pull the cap lower onto my face, hoping the strong coffee settles my stomach. I am never drinking that much again. Ever.

  I close my eyes, breathing in the morning air, enjoying the warm sun on my head when I feel it. I feel the black cloud hovering over me, taunting me with fear, doubt, and sadness. My pulse starts to quicken as it begins to consume me, encasing me in a bubble of despair. I won’t let this happen, not this year, not ever again. I’ve just had an amazing summer visiting my brother. Spending time with my niece, Ashley, and nephew, JJ, was good for me, but it always leaves me wanting more. And more isn’t something that I’ll allow myself to have. It’s not in the cards for me. Breathing deeply through my anxiety, I’m relieved when the black cloud starts to dissipate.

  Knowing that the remedy for my sudden bout of depression is a good run, I drag my sorry ass inside along with Brady, guzzle down a large glass of water, swallow three Excedrin, and shower quickly before changing into my running gear. After brushing my teeth, pulling my honey-blonde streaked hair into a high ponytail, I stare at my face in the mirror. Big, brown, sad eyes stare back at me. Get a grip, girl. Get a fucking grip. Brady’s ears perk up, the circling around and yelping begins because he knows what it means when I open the door to the broom closet in the mudroom. “Atta, boy. Let’s go!” I bend down and kiss his wet nose after securing his retractable leash to his collar.

  My elderly neighbor, Mrs. Longo, waves hello to me and shouts, “Hey, Mia. Welcome home, darling!”

  “Thanks.” I jog in place, releasing one ear bud as I call back to her with a wave and a promise that I’ll stop by later with Brady for a visit. I swear the woman, wearing her favorite rice picker hat, will someday collapse and die in her garden, after spending hours each morning in the blazing sun, pulling weeds until there isn’t a single weed left.

  Starting to jog away slowly, I chuckle quietly to myself, remembering the time I asked her why she weeds so often. With a devious smile and a wink, she told me that it keeps her hands agile to “take care” of Mr. Longo. Good Lord! I could never again look at the old man the same way, with his plaid shorts and golf Polo tucked in, belted above the waist.

  With my ear buds stuck securely in my ears listening to Maroon 5, I pull back on the leash, unable to let Brady set our running pace until the Excedrin kicks in and I no longer want to vomit. I look around my quaint neighborhood, taking in the summer sights around me. Full green maple and oak trees line the quiet street on each side, providing shade as children run and play in their yards. A bouquet of pink balloons tied to the mailbox declare a baby girl has been added to the Cummings family. Further down, a white “DeGennaro Realty” sign stands at the edge of the well-manicured lawn of the McDonnell’s huge brick house. I guess Grace McDonnell, the former town librarian for over fifty years, was finally moved into an assisted living community.

  A smile spreads across my face as childhood memories flood my mind. My childhood was like a Norman Rockwell painting; I can’t remember one bad thing except maybe for high school. Long, summer days riding my yellow bike and playing hopscotch on the sidewalks with my best friend, lemonade stands, hide and go seek, building snowmen, sledding down the Miller’s backyard slope with Josh and his friends were just the normal things we did. We played outside until dark, only coming in when our mothers called for us. Almost every childhood memory I have included my best friend.

  With a quick shake of my head, I try to erase the memory of her showing up at prom wearing the same dress as me. She tried to convince everyone that I copied her, but I knew the truth. She could have picked out any designer dress and her father would’ve gotten it for her. Me? I had to shop at the mall, but I was okay with that.

  My God, all of that seems like a lifetime ago. Back when I was just a girl and things were simple, before the harsh reality of life set in.

  “Easy, boy, easy.” I pull back on Brady’s leash as we round the corner into Peterson State Park; the place I consider my refuge. Its beauty is unparalleled with its open fields, a rolling river and steep waterfalls which lead to smaller streams that Brady loves to splash in. Any of its endless hiking trails all lead to the magnificent summit that overlooks the sleepy suburban town below. On a clear day, you can even see the calm waters of Long Island Sound in the far distance. It truly is nature at its finest.

  Unhooking Brady’s leash, I follow him over to the stream and gulp down the rest of my bottled water. He barks and jumps around trying to catch the tiny minnows until he’s soaking wet.

  “Stay here, boy.” I point my finger at him like I mean business before I walk over to refill my bottle from the free standing water fountain. I keep a close eye on him because he’s got the attention span of a fly and will run after anything that moves. I chuckle as I watch him until my attention is drawn to the sound of little voices behind me.

  “Shit!” I mumble, scrambling to grab my disobedient dog before he runs over to the excited, young voices approaching us. “C’mere, boy.” I squat down and wrap my arms around his big body, thinking that I should demand a refund for all those stupid training classes. After securing his leash, I stand and turn around to greet the voices that are now calling out, “Brady! Oh, hi, Miss Delaney.” Nice, I’m an afterthought next to my dog.

  I immediately recognize the faces of former students who’ve grown a few inches since they were rambunctious second graders in my class. “Hi, Jake. Hey, Ben. How are you boys?” Telling me all about their summer vacations seems like a feat within itself because Brady is all over them, yelping his pleasure, showering their faces with sloppy, wet kisses. Try as hard as I might to control him, the boys love every second, rubbing his belly and head.

  Noticing their green jerseys and footballs, I ask, “Football practice?”

  “Yep,” Jake answers.

  I spot a small group of parents sipping their Dunkin’ Donuts coffee while their younger children run and play nearby. This is a big football town especially during the fall months when everyone dresses in green and white to cheer for the undefeated State Champions. This is the way life is in a small town.

  All three of us turn around when we hear someone whistling and calling the boys’ names.

  Squinting in the morning sun, my heart beats a little faster when I see who’s walking in our direction. Crap! It’s their coach and I know him…very well. Unfortunately.

  The boys start complaining but quickly comply. “Awww…I guess we gotta go,” Jake says giving Brady one last belly rub before running off. “Bye, Miss Delaney. See ya at school next week.” I hear Ben say, but I’m no longer looking at him. My attention is drawn upwards to the beast of a figure approaching me.

  “I’ll be there in a sec, boys. Start with a few laps for a warm up,” his deep voice commands.

  I take a long drink of water to quench my thirst, relieving my cotton mouth and look anywhere but at him. No one seems to notice us—everyone is just going about doing their own thing. So why do I suddenly feel like I’m on stage and I’ve forgotten my lines? My heart begins to race as a flush quickly spreads across my face. Oh, shit! Why does he have to be here? Why does he have to look so damn sexy with his khaki shorts and olive green Army t-shirt that fits perfectly around his sculpted torso? Oh, Lord, kill me now!

  Looking in every possible direction around me just to avoid his gaze, I look up as he saunters over to me with an air of confidence. His dirty blonde hair is a little longer than I remember causing it to peek out from under his Red Sox ball cap. His skin is perfectly tanned, showing the definition in his biceps accentuating his black tribal band tattoo. He’s staring at me with piercing blue eyes, blue like the ocean. Damn, he looks good! His body stops within a foot of mine. His eyes lower, traveling up and down my body, his lips smirk with a dev
ilish grin.

  “Hello there,” he purrs, leaning in to hug me as he places a lingering kiss on my cheek. “Welcome home, Mia. I’ve missed you,” he whispers in my ear. Breathe, Mia. Breathe.

  “Hi, Shane. How are you?” I barely smile, trying desperately to sound nonchalant as I quickly pull out of his embrace.

  “Well, I had a good summer, but it just got a whole lot better.” Oh boy, here we go!

  “Really? And why’s that?” I blurt, not buying his bullshit in the form of flattery again. I’m not typically rude, but just seeing him, catapults me back to that day last spring.

  “I told you I missed you.” He reaches out, tucking a shorter piece of layered hair that’s fallen out of my ponytail. I swallow hard. No, do not fall for his touch. Do not fall for his words. Not again. Remember it’s all bullshit. “I like your hair. You changed the color, didn’t you?” he asks as he twists it in his hand, letting it slide through his fingertips. I want to snatch my ponytail away and slap his hand down.

  “Yeah, I did. It was time for a change. I got tired of the same old boring brown. I thought I’d spice it up a bit with some blonde highlights.” I stare at him defiantly, wondering if he understands the full implication of my words. “What’s that saying?” I tap on my chin for effect and look up at him. “Oh yeah, you know the one, ‘Blondes have more fun.’” I narrow my eyes and smirk, my words drip with sarcasm, hoping he remembers the specific event to which my words allude.

  “Mia, come on...Don’t be like that. I said I was sorry. You wouldn’t even let me explain.” He holds my arms and sways me from side to side, trying to ease the animosity that’s seeping out of my pores.

  Hearing a quiet, but definite grumble, I turn to Brady and realize that he’s been waiting this whole time. Why can’t guys be like dogs? Fun, loving and LOYAL? We both just stand there looking at each other, brown eyes to blue.

  I wonder if he’s thinking about the look on my face when I walked in and found him with his pants around his ankles. Or is he thinking about how he hounded me for weeks afterwards and I wouldn’t give him the time of day? Or maybe he’s thinking that if I’m desperate enough that he’ll get one more fuck?

  Whatever he’s thinking about, he doesn’t say. It doesn’t really matter. It’s over. And it never should have started in the first place.

  “Hey, Coach! You ready?” a faraway voice calls to him. “It’s hot as hell out here. Let’s get these kids outta here early.” I glance past Shane to see Tanner, another guy from town. “Oh, hey, Mia. How’s it going?”

  “Hey, Tanner. I’m good. You?” He mutters something about how he’d be better if it weren’t already almost ninety freaking degrees out.

  “You need to go,” I remind him and turn to leave when he reaches out for my hand, rubbing his thumb across my knuckles. Turning slowly, I see that boyish smile that I’ve known forever. I used to think it was endearing, now I think it’s just bullshit.

  “C’mon. You said you forgave me…” His voice trails off, his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “At least call me? I’d like to see you. We can go for a hike or a run. We could have dinner and talk. We can start over.”

  My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline in disbelief.

  “C’mon, I’m serious. You’ve been gone all summer. I’ve missed you, Mia.”

  Lies. All lies. “Yeah, whatever. We’ll see...It’s hot. I have to go.” I finally turn in the direction of the hiking trails without as much as a quick, backward glance. How did things between us get so serious and awkward? I really should’ve listened to my instincts and kept that one in the friend zone. But once again, I listened to my heart not my head.

  Running. Running is good for me. It fuels my body and frees my mind. My legs carry me faster and faster up the trail while beads of sweat pour down my forehead. My hot pink Lycra running shirt is drenched; the sweat oozing through my skin probably reeks of stale booze.

  Flashbacks fill my mind of running this trail with Shane. His big hands roaming all over my sweat covered body when we reached the summit. I can feel his warm lips crashing into mine, his mouth kissing me all over, his hands digging into my hips. Fuck!

  I don’t want to think about him because it makes me think of her, and I most definitely don’t want to think about her. Although we never claimed to be exclusive, it was sort of implied while we enjoyed each other’s company, whether we were working out at the gym, taking graduate courses in administration together and having some pretty fucking fantastic sex. I remember waking up next to him and then storming off when he almost uttered the dreaded “L” word. I was angry because he was trying to make it something more than what it was. It was just sex, at least that’s the story I kept telling myself.

  “Let love in.” Those were Shelby’s words last winter. Her futile attempt to get me enrolled for an online dating site was a bust, even when she promised to manage the account for me. The online dating scene was not lacking in hot guys, but I always wondered, “If they’re so hot, why are they on a dating site?” It’s not that I couldn’t get a date, I wasn’t interested in dating because, in reality, I was just becoming interested in life again.

  Shane was the first guy I let my guard down for and look how that turned out! Growing up in the same small town, our paths always crossed. After freshman year, Shane left college and joined the Army, serving his country, traveling to distant lands. He had some great stories and adventures about his time abroad. He eventually went back to college, got his degree and is now a physical education teacher and football coach at the local high school.

  Although my brother was my hero and I did everything that he did, joining the military wasn’t something I’d ever thought about. I dreamed of going to college to become a teacher, marrying my high school boyfriend and starting a family. I had my life planned out. My life’s plan was pretty damn perfect. At least that’s the way it seemed. It was perfect until that dream abruptly became a nightmare. In one night, my dream was shattered beyond imaginable repair. So many lives irrevocably changed forever. All in one night.

  The burn I feel through my legs has me pushing myself to run harder and faster as if I’m running from those memories. Brady slows his approach as we reach the summit. I pull the cinch bag off my back and grab another bottle of water. The water, although no longer cool, is still refreshing to my parched mouth. Muffled laughter consumes me as Brady laps crazily at the steady stream of water flowing from the bottle, trying desperately to quench his own thirst. I lower myself down on the flat rock that juts out, letting my tired legs dangle over the edge, massaging the muscles in my thighs and calves.

  The view from here is absolutely, breathtakingly incredible. For miles and miles, all I can see is the place I’ve always called home. Small houses in between thick oak and tall pine trees spread across the town. The little white congregational church has been rebuilt after the fire burned it to the ground, the elementary school has its new playground and a new strip mall is thriving in its early stages. It all appears to be back to normal…except for the abandoned lot with a dilapidated fence still around it and warning signs to keep out. Unshed tears pool in the corners of my eyes as I stare at the lot and remember.

  Some nights when my dad had to work late, my mom and I would take a ride down in our green mini-van to visit him and bring dinner. My dad was the foreman at DeGennaro Manufacturing, the industrial plant was our town’s largest employer. I always felt like the cool kid walking around with my dad because he was kind of the boss. That was until Gina walked around with her dad, Mr. DeGennaro. He was the owner so he was the real boss as she would often remind me. She was my best friend and although we were as different as we could be, we were inseparable.

  Mia and Gina. Gina and Mia. We were two peas in a pod. Even when we dressed alike, it didn’t matter that she had fair skin, blonde hair and blue eyes or that I had olive skin with brown eyes as dark as my hair; we were perfectly paired. We used to think it’d be cool if we married each other’s brothers so we could re
ally be sisters.

  As kids, we spent so much time together that she even called my mom “Mima,” short for Mia’s mama. Gina’s parents divorced when she was only a few years old; her mom would pop in every couple months to “visit.” It was heartbreaking to watch Gina get her hopes up that her mom might love her enough to actually stick around, but she never did. For years, I watched my best friend cry for days after her mom left again, abandoning her children for a life on her own.

  Unfortunately, the bevy of women who slipped in and out of Carl DeGennaro’s bed weren’t exactly stellar role models for a young, impressionable girl. I think Gina loved spending time with my mom almost as much as she loved spending time with me.

  I glance at the church where my parents renewed their vows and remember their whispered words.

  “Daniel Delaney, I love you madly. I’ll love you with every breath I take.”

  “I love you more, my sweet girl. And I’ll love you until the last breath I take.”

  My parents were passionately in love with each other. Although their displays of affection often garnered snickers and groans of disgust from Josh and me, we knew, without a doubt, that our parents loved each other and that they loved us. We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, but my parents did the best they could on one income and, somehow, it all worked out.

  Our family and the DeGennaros got along really well, even spending holidays together at their house because it was bigger and could accommodate their large, extended Italian family which included Gina’s older brother, Christopher, and lots and lots of uncles. I never knew they weren’t really “uncles” until I finally figured it out. I’ll never forget one Christmas my Uncle Carl lifted a glass filled with homemade wine and made a toast to my parents. “To Dan and Ellen, you both have brought much love to us. May we always have our family.” Some of the uncles cheered, “La Famiglia” or “Buon Natale.” Gina and I clinked our glasses of grape juice and pretended it was wine.