The Firsts Series Box Set

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The Firsts Series Box Set Page 98

by M. J. Fields


  She continues to cry harder, so I hold her tighter, and I fall deeper in love with her.

  After several minutes, she starts to shake. I hit the automatic start on the truck with the key fob still in my hand.

  “Love you,” she sniffs.

  I rub my hand up and down her back.

  “I don’t know how to do this. She’s my mom, Luke.”

  I kiss her cheek.

  “How will I ever forgive myself for all the things I said when I was angry at her.”

  “You done being angry?”

  “What?” She sits back and looks at me.

  I cup her face and thumb away her tears. “It’s okay to still be pissed off that she hid this from you.”

  “I am, I am sooo mad at her, at Logan, at Moon Face. I’m strong, Luke.”

  “I know you are, babe.”

  “I’m not weak.”

  I nod because we’ve just covered that.

  “I’m a good mom.”

  I pull her into another bear hug because she needs it, and when she realizes what she’s going to realize next, she’s going to cry harder.

  “I learned how to be from her.”

  And there we have it.

  She pushes off me and grabs the collar of my coat and gives me a good shake.

  “Why would she do this?”

  I am not going to rationalize or delve into what I assume Ashley was thinking, Ava needs me to listen, and that’s what I’m gonna do.

  “Has she been so sick that,” she pauses and thinks. “All her stupid FaceTime videos have had terrible lighting. Luke, how did I not know?”

  Her psyche I will delve into. “You’re thinking you have three kids, you’re working part-time doing online law, managing our home, and being the best wife and mother there is.”

  “Well, how stupid was I?”

  “Ava, you’re one of the smartest people I know, and she didn’t want you to know.” I dip my toes in to test the sibling temperature. “She even made your brother swear not to tell you.”

  “I’m pissed at him, but who knows if I’d have done the same. But her… I’m livid at her. She took away years of time I would have spent helping her, being there for her, showing her how much I love her.”

  I nod and rub her arms.

  “But that’s what she was trying to stop. She didn’t want us to stop living because she was,” she pauses, and her face scrunches up, just like Hope’s before she has a breakdown, and she cries. “I love her, Luke. I love my mom, and she tried to make me stop.”

  “There is a chance that the tumor—”

  “Oh my God, I didn’t even think of that!” She shakes damn near violently.

  “You’re cold.”

  “I’m numb,” she sniffs and then wipes her sleeve under her nose.

  I scoot us off the tailgate, and she holds on tight as I carry her to the passenger side, open the door, and put her in. I even buckle her up before shutting the door.

  When I get in, I turn up the seat warmer before I grab both her hands. “Don’t go silent on me, talk, scream, cry, but don’t go silent, Ava.”

  She sniffs as she shakes her head, grabs my wrists and holds them tight as she moves her head to one side and kisses one palm, then the other, “Dad.”

  “Ava.”

  “Logan, God, he-.”

  “Ava.”

  “But.”

  “But, nothing. Think of yourself right now, and what you need to get through this.”

  “I need her to stop lying, Luke. I need her to get healthy, to hold my babies, to hold me, to fucking live!”

  “I know.” I rub my thumbs over the back of her hands.

  She looks away, lets go of one of my hands, and takes the one closest to her in a tight grip. “What are we going to tell the kids?”

  I don’t want to sound coId, but I have to be honest with her. “I think the kids are young enough that they’ll forget that they really only saw her on a screen. That memory is going to fade, Ava. But you can keep traditions alive, pass down stories, memories, and all the good times.”

  “Right,” she sniffs. “Of course.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nods, “Yeah.”

  “It’s you and her that need to patch things up.”

  “How?” her voice squeaks.

  “Same way you did in the text. I’m upset, I don’t understand, but I love you.”

  “It’s really that simple, Luke? Saying goodbye to the person you grew inside of, learned what it meant to be a mom from. Is it really that easy?”

  “It’s the hardest thing in the world, Ava, because it’s beyond your control.”

  Hiding

  Logan

  Two days of lying in a hospital bed, and I’m about ready to check myself out against the doctor’s advice.

  One day until London, myself, Ava, and Luke head to the city, and I will be doing so if these people don’t hurry up.

  Ava and I haven’t talked, texts were enough to set things up for the trip.

  Dad has been here, he knows something’s up, but thankfully hasn’t said a damn thing about it. I know Ava hasn’t told him, because I asked her.

  London hasn’t left. Not once. Brody and Emma brought her clothes and have popped in and out daily. Lexington came once with a whole album full of pictures she printed off the internet for wedding ideas and suggestions.

  She is going to be London’s maid of honor, and London didn’t even have to ask her. She is just like London, just like her. She’s going to fuck up some poor guy’s head and heart someday soon.

  When she saw my hand, she turned green, and the visit was rather short.

  My step-brothers, Matthew and CJ, have both FaceTimed us, telling me I’m an idiot, but they love me, anyway. And Harper and Maddox have stopped over once.

  You absolutely get no sleep in a hospital, hell, even the meds they were giving me, that were supposed to knock me out, didn’t work the way they should.

  I haven’t said shit to Dad, London, or Tessa, who has become my medical advocate, about waking up during surgery. That’s a kind of hell no one should experience.

  I wish Mom had confided in Tessa when all this began. Not Robert. Because I can’t help but wonder if she knew more, she could have steered her in a different direction, done something… anything, when this all began.

  All of this means shit at this point, but now I realize, every family… every person needs a medical advocate.

  “You awake?” London whispers.

  I open my eyes and see her walking out of the bathroom, toweling her hair on yesterday’s t-shirt, dressed in an SU sweatshirt and leggings.

  Fucking cuddle season.

  “Get over here.”

  “Say please.” She smirks.

  “Now.”

  “Oh really?” She rolls her eyes as she slows down.

  I hold up my robotic fucking contraption and push out my bottom lip.

  “Not fair, hubs.”

  “All is fair in love and football.”

  She sits next to me, on the good side, and I pull her down. “My hairs wet.”

  “My dicks hard.”

  She gasps, “Wha-wha-what?”

  “Yeah, no tube can—”

  “It was a garden hose. You got banged by a—”

  “It’s not hard anymore.”

  “What?” she laughs.

  “You broke my dick, Pretty,” I sigh and look up as Dad and Tessa walk in.

  Dad smirks, “Should I get a nurse?”

  “Fuck no.”

  He wraps his arm around Tessa. “Good, get dressed, we’re getting you out of here.”

  “How?”

  He nods to Tessa. “We agreed that she’d be by your side until you are seen next week, to make sure you were good, and they agreed to discharge you.”

  London sits up, and then I do.

  “Well, I appreciate it. I really do.” I get off the bed. “I can’t wait to get home. Sleep in our bed.”

  “
You should probably stay with us.” Dad steps away from Tessa and walks to my bag and grabs a sweatshirt and returns as he unfolds it. “Since we leave for New York tomorrow, no sense in driving to Syracuse tonight.”

  While I’m trying to figure out how to tell him, he’s not part of the we, and as I’m wondering how much he knows, he pushes my sweatshirt on over my head, like I’m a toddler. “Arm in.”

  “Dad.” I push my arm through the hole. “It’s just the four of us.”

  He holds out the other sleeve and stretches it as he looks at me. “Actually, it’s the seven of us. You and London, Tessa and I, Ava, Luke, and Faith. We’re taking the Hines Jet, it leaves at eleven thirty in the morning.”

  “Can he fly?” London asks, taking off her fuzzy slippers and putting on her Ugg booties.

  “It’s all cleared,” Dad says as he tugs at the bottom of my sweatshirt straightening it.

  “Jade is taking the kids,” I tell him.

  “She’s taking Hope and Chance, Faith is going with us.” He walks over and grabs a pair of socks out of my bag. “Ava is breastfeeding. Whatever she’s stressing about is making her have a hard time doing so. Sit, Logan.”

  I have no idea why I’m listening to him, and not fighting this, but I sit, and my Dad puts my fucking socks on.

  “Dad, there are some things that—”

  “I’m well aware something’s going on. I’m also aware you two are hiding it, so I can safely assume it has something to do with Ashley. I have no desire to brush elbows with your mother, but I will be there when my kids need me, and I will also be the one hanging with Faith.”

  “Dad.” I stand. “It doesn’t—”

  He holds up his hand stopping me. “It’s not up for discussion.”

  “I’m a grown ass married man,” I tell him as he turns and walks toward the door.

  He looks back. “And you two are still my kids.”

  When he walks out, I look at Tessa.

  “There’s nothing I can do to change his mind.”

  “Tessa,” London begins.

  Tessa interrupts, “Piper’s been talking.”

  Piper is my step-sister Harper’s daughter, with London’s step-brother, Maddox. She’s only a kid, but she is extremely intuitive.

  “What did she say?” London whispers.

  “She mentioned Ashley, fast cars, baseballs, and tall, tall buildings.”

  “And Dad thinks that’s life-altering?”

  She looks down. “Your father has his own,” she pauses, “Idea of what you and Ava are up to.”

  “What we’re up to?” I huff.

  “Logan, when London starts acting funny, secretive, a little… sad, do you notice?”

  “Of course, I’d notice. Hell, I know before she even does that it’s...” I stop before I say flow week.

  But of course, London says it, “He’s the one to remind me I’m emo or super, um… loving because I’m getting my period.”

  “Jesus L Christ, can nothing be sacred?” I mumble.

  Tessa holds back a laugh, “He’s concerned.”

  “And what the hell does he think is going on?” I ball my fists at my side and wince when I remember I just had fucking surgery.

  “He doesn’t want you two going up against her and Robert, but he knows he can’t stop you.”

  “We aren’t going up against anyone.”

  London steps a little closer to me and looks up, and I know she’s trying to push me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Love you.”

  “And I love you.”

  Dad opens the door. “After you.” A nurse walks in with a clipboard in hand. “Sign ‘em, Logan, and we’re out.”

  London takes the clipboard from the blushing middle-aged nurse, and I sign them.

  “Thanks, nurse.” Dad winks then grabs Tessa’s hand. “Let’s roll, baby.”

  She rolls her eyes and London looks at me. “You ever pick that up from him, or your sister, I will cut it off.”

  “Pick up what?” Dad asks.

  “He’s clueless, London,” Tessa shrugs. “And so is Ava. Thank your lucky stars that his personality mimics more toward Ashley’s.”

  Dad stops in the middle of the hallway. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Keep walking, Links.” She tugs his hand. “Keep walking.”

  My heart heats inside my body and spreads through my chest when Tessa said what she did.

  I love my father, he’s amazing. But from as far back as I can remember, it is my mother I always looked to when I was sick, or scared… until I couldn’t.

  There is no way in hell he didn’t feel that from her, for her, and as much as Ava is hurting and needs protecting, I think deep down, I realize he would be too. That I wasn’t just protecting Ava, I was protecting him. Ava and I lost a part of her when they divorced, but deep in our hearts, we knew she wasn’t truly lost, we still had a part of her. Losing her fully, once, is going to be hard enough. And he’s going to have to do it… twice.

  Hands

  London

  In his childhood home, in his childhood bed, I lay next to Logan, watching him sleep.

  Family was in and out all day, and all brought food, of course. Until now he hasn’t rested.

  I watched him pause at certain places in the house and made mental notes to ask him why that certain place, chair, spot at the table, on the couch, in the kitchen seemed to affect him.

  It was hard for him at first to answer, but with each question I asked the difficulty in answering them seemed to lessen.

  I knew he always sat in the second chair at the island, his mom on the far left next to him, Ava beside him, and Lucas at the far right.

  I knew that out of the two-double recliners in the living room, he sat in the one to the left of the bay window with her when he had strep throat as a kid, and after he had his wisdom teeth pulled in his sophomore year. He also told me, he’s pretty sure he was awake but unable to move for that too.

  He told me she used to sit in the football-shaped bean bag chair in his room and study spelling words with him as a kid, and Spanish vocabulary in middle and high school. And the place I slept in his full-size cherry wood captains’ bed, was where she read to him, every night until he was well past the age any boy would admit to his mom reading bedtime stories to him.

  When I asked him how old, he hesitated, but then the pain meds must have kicked in, and he told me, his freshman year in high school.

  I told him that someday, when we had a little Logan, I was going to sneak into his college dorm and read him bedtime stories.

  He smiled, and I couldn’t help but do the same. We’re going to have amazing kids… someday.

  He told me that this house was home, even after the split, because nothing could erase those memories.

  I know we’re all, ‘I am woman, hear me roar’ at times.

  All of us have the capacity to take care of ourselves, that’s a fact.

  Also, a fact, so many of us fight against giving up on our dreams, our ‘lives,’ our girl time, wine Wednesday, book club, the things everyone says they lost while in a relationship, after it ended of course.

  We’re forever warned that we should guard our hearts, so we don’t lose ourselves.

  It’s scary when you hear statistics, and you see your own parents’ divorce and live its devastating aftereffects.

  It’s horrifying to trust another human being to not only guard your heart, but hold such a delicate muscle in their hands and trust they may not hold it tightly enough, allowing it to beat out of their grip, fall to the ground and shatter, rendering it useless. Or the opposite, they will hold it so tight they strangle it, and ultimately it will meet the same fate.

  All the decks are stacked against love. It’s so easy to be distracted by the happenings in the world spinning around you. Dating? I am so glad I never had to travel that ugly road, especially in today’s world. You’re a face on social media, or a profile on an app, you’re erased by o
ne simple swipe at the stroke of a fingertip before anyone even knows the most important pieces of you. Your heart, your soul, your path, your past, all the things that make you uniquely you.

  In fact, love is terrifying… until you look at someone, your someone, and know they are there for not just the pretty moments, but the ugliest ones too.

  Maybe I’m lucky that love found me, or I found it. Or maybe I just took the time to really care about the people surrounding me, because of all the ‘journeys’ we’d taken, and it happened because of that. Or maybe all the tragic events that happened when I was younger gave me a pass at falling for the wrong guy.

  I will not overthink it any further, I will simply accept that I am in fact stronger now, because of him, and with him. We are not missing out on our dreams because we are the product of our hearts deepest desire, love. He is my person, and I am his.

  I’ve fallen deeper in love with him over the past few days, and I didn’t think it could possibly happen… again.

  The first time was when he found me in the club, the second was how he was with Leddie and Brooklyn, the third was when he proposed. Yet when I saw his love for Ashley, it blew all those moments out of the water. I saw my strong, beautiful, talented, protective fiancé fall at his mother’s feet, and that bound my love deeper than anything I could have imagined. Then, I married him.

  I will always have a bit of guilt for not having my family with me, but it did something to our relationship, it seared two souls into one. He gave me a ring, and his name, and I gave him all of me, forever.

  Over the past few days, it’s insane how much more my love for him has grown. So much that at times I think my chest will burst.

  I can’t help but kiss him, sleeping or not, but when he kisses me back, I think maybe I was wrong.

  His arm snakes around me and pulls me closer to him. He holds the back of my head as he pushes his tongue into my mouth, slowly rubbing it against mine.

  Slow.

  When he pulls back, our eyes meet in the dark, and he licks his lips. “Been damn close to a week since I’ve been inside you.”

 

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