Crown's Chance at Love

by Mayra Statham

  CROWNS’S CHANCE AT LOVE

  Copyright © 2014 by Mayra Statham

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover design by Rebecca Berto of Berto Designs

  Formatting by Max Henry of Max Effect

  DEDICATION

  PROLOGUE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  THIRTY-NINE

  FORTY

  FORTY-ONE

  FORTY-TWO

  FORTY-THREE

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  As a little girl I remember staring out the car window, realizing that every car that passed by had a different story, wondering what they might be. How everyone might be connected.

  That is the idea of this series:That even when we might not realize it, we are all connected.

  Rob, without your support and incredible patience this would not have been possible. No matter the project I jump in, you are always on the sidelines cheering the loudest for me. I love you babe. Thank you for believing in me as much as I believe in you, and for being so incredibly patient and understanding.

  To my children: Never stop dreaming and always go towards whatever makes your heart happy. No matter what.

  Sabrina Miller

  I smile.

  I know they are talking to me, yet I am not really paying attention. I mostly just smile and nod …a lot. Saying thank you when people hug me and say they are sorry. For the most part, today had gone smoother than I had imagined it would. His brother and my sister had done a beautiful job giving the eulogy. Part of me felt guilty I hadn’t tried to speak, but I didn’t think I could have the strength to speak without losing it.

  Now everyone is hugging me, pulling me close, some whispering, others crying their condolences. That part is bothersome. I never had an aversion to people being close to me, hugging me, but right now every time someone pulls me close I stiffen up as I hear them tell me words of what they must have thought were words of encouragement. I mean I know people tend to say sorry in these situations, but in all honesty, they had nothing to apologize for. They weren’t the ones driving that morning.

  It’s weird how completely numb I am, almost like I am in a fog. I haven’t really felt anything since the moment I opened the door and there were two police officers standing there with serious looks on their faces. I know that isn’t good. It isn’t good that I can’t feel anything, not anger or sadness just numbness, but I know that I have to just keep moving.

  Dory’s voice from “Finding Nemo” keeps repeating in my head “just keep swimming, just keep swimming”. Not for me mainly, but for my kids. Sean would laugh if he knew Dory was the only thing in my head that made me keep moving, the only thing that fights my overwhelming need to just throw a blanket over my head and lay still and ignore everyone here in the house.

  It would be that or maybe throw glass after glass watching them smash and when I’d run out of glasses, I’d start to throw plates like some out of control guests at a Greek wedding, or the scene from that movie “Drop Dead Fred” where Phoebe Cates’ character starts to throw all those breakables because she likes the way it sounds when glass shatters.

  You see, my life was shaken up like a snow globe in a toddlers hand. Eleven days ago started off like a completely normal Tuesday. Waking up to Sean, my wonderful husband, kissing me goodbye, me half seeing his beautiful smile because I had left my glasses in our bathroom instead of on my nightstand, me mumbling be safe. Be safe. Funny how I always used to say that, much good that did.

  Waking up about an hour later to get myself ready, then waking the kids up to get ready for school, I had just got back from dropping them off about twenty minutes before the doorbell rang. Up until then everything had been routine. This was our life. We were happy. I’m not going to blow smoke and say our life was perfect because it wasn’t, but it was pretty dang great. We had our ups and downs like any marriage, but we loved each other, we made it work.

  We had been married in our early twenties and had moved from Pasadena, Ca to Berkeley right before we had our first child. Berkeley was our home for most of our marriage. We had had three beautiful kids, our share of ups and downs, and in one instant, one wrong turn down the wrong street and it was all over.

  I had had my coffee in my hand and I walked to the door, I didn’t even look through the peephole like I usually did. I remember opening the door smiling because when I saw their faces it felt like my heart went ice cold. Like suddenly instead of blood running through my veins, ice cold water started to pump through, hitting every nerve in my body as it flowed through me. Everything went still. I placed the coffee mug down on a side table, it didn’t even drop and shatter into a million pieces like it does in the movies when people get bad news. No the mug was safe, it was just my soul that was in limbo.

  My heart had silently shattered in those small quick moments when the police officers told me Sean had been in an accident and that he was dead. Dead, hmm all I can think about is how completely final it all was and how it can happen completely unexpected, like on a Tuesday morning.

  Now eleven days later, on a Saturday, everyone is at my house. I smile at some faceless relative as they hug me, telling me what a wonderful man he was. All I can do is nod, deep in my own thoughts, even as I feel everyone’s stares on me like they are waiting for me to give a big dramatic show. They are waiting for me to break. My parents keep telling me to sit down, but honestly, I never really followed orders before I got married, why would I follow them now that I am a widow? Hmm widow, the word alone makes me think of a big ugly spider, and that makes me think of Sean, he hated spiders.

  I wonder what Sean would think about today. He’d like everyone being over. He loved having get-togethers at our house. Maybe because when growing up his family really didn’t do that, mine
was the complete opposite. Family, extended family, friends and friend’s kids that you weren’t blood related to, but you called them cousins because that’s what they were, they were family. He loved my family, loved. My heart feels slightly heavier and numb when my thoughts about Sean go to the past tense. He is gone, at this thought my heart goes still, I feel momentarily lost, almost frozen. Lost and numb. I keep looking at the door, expecting him to walk in wearing his uniform, and flip flops instead of his work boots.

  I buried him in his favorite flip flops. His mom and my mom almost had a kitten when they saw what I had packed to give to the funeral home. Thank God for his aunt who talked some sense into them. Without her, it would have been a big argument or fight, well maybe. No one wants to argue with me. They are all walking on eggshells whispering about me, about the fact that I am not falling apart at the seams. Everyone whispering acting like somehow I can’t hear them. I smile to myself at the thought of how dumb that really was. There is no way that Sean would want our kids to see me like that. No way Sean would want me like that period. Maybe once I can feel something, maybe then I can cry or have a reaction. Who knows? I just know that I can’t fall apart in front everyone; they just want something to talk about. I love my family and his, don’t get me wrong, but I really don’t feel like giving them a show just so that it will make them feel better.

  Or maybe I could fake one, just like how I have been faking having it together these last eleven days. Smiling dutifully at family and friends. Making small talk with everyone around me. Holding my babies close, the four of us sleeping every night together in the master bedroom the past eleven days. Its at those moments that I am closest at breaking down,the closest I have felt at feeling something. Even if it is just my heart growing heavier as my babies cry over their dad. He was such a damn good dad. No, not good, but fucking great. The type of dad where the kids were extremely excited to see him when he walked in from his long days at work. The kind of dad that went out without a second thought when we needed an extra thing in a school project, or snacks for whatever sport Mark, our oldest, was playing. I have to keep it together for them. They wouldn’t benefit from having a sorry excuse of a broken woman as their mom. They didn’t need that. What they need is someone who is reliable, stable. They need to rely that I could keep it together, that I won’t fall apart like some ninny.

  I’ve smiled as I have served coffee, and I have said thank you at those who give their condolences. I am standing in our living room surrounded by so many people that I know love me, some that have even known me my entire life, yet I have never felt so alone or so lost. I walk towards the kitchen. Shit, I know that I am holding on by a thin string, I know it’s going to break, and it won’t be pretty. But maybe I can do that when I am in the shower? That way I don’t know the difference between my tears and the water. I look over to the kitchen and see the kids running around. I’m thankful that my kids have the same amount of cousins and friends that I did growing up, and not just each other how Sean had; Sean only had a brother. But our kids, they have a huge group of support and love around them, thank God for that.

  “Slow down guys! Kelly why don’t you take the kids outside to play? Please?” Cara looks at Kelly. My sister Cara asks one of our many cousins to take the kids out. I watch them, they haven’t seen me. Her long maple brown hair done in a messy braid, whiskey colored eyes a little sad, dressed in a sweet a-line black dress that hangs below her knees looked stunning today. She had kept it together, holding Chris, my youngest close to her all day throughout the entire funeral and even now he sits on her lap.

  “Sure, come on guys! You heard your aunt! Let’s go!” Kelly tells them as she opens the back door that leads to our huge backyard. I close my eyes as I lean into the dark cool hallway, away from prying eyes.

  “Where’s Mommy Cara?” Chris, my youngest asks Cara as he looks up at his beautiful aunt.

  “She’s just in the bathroom, she will be right out. Go play” she says smiling at my little sweet boy as he slides down her lap. The kids all run out with Kelly. Chris holds Kelly’s hand. He’s always been touchy feely maybe because he was my youngest, but for the last eleven days it’s been worse. I know I need to make a mental note of it and figure out how to help him.

  “How’s she doing?” I hear Allison ask Cara. I can imagine Cara wants to roll her eyes at her. Allison and I were close friends, once upon a time, I’m not really sure why she’s here right now. She’s probably waiting to see the big dramatic breakdown so that she can gossip about it with the people from high school that I was once friends with. Who knows?

  “I don’t know. She hasn’t even cried yet. My mom is going to stay with her this week, and then I’ll come back next week and stay here.” Cara says almost whispering. I know Cara is worried…another mental note to make sure I have one-on-one time with her as well.

  “She’s probably still in shock.” Emily chimes in. I love my Emily. I know by her tone that she is annoyed at the fact that Allison is there trying to get dirt. Emily’s long black hair is up in a simple ponytail, her makeup flawless as usual, wearing a pretty black dress with black heels that made her long legs look a mile long. Her jade green eyes are sad too, I knew how much Sean meant to her and her husband Dan.

  Sean would have loved having everyone here, knowing that everyone had made the almost seven hour trip to our home in northern California, especially knowing that Emmi and Dan had made it up with the kids. We were always so close. Our two families, they were Mark’s Godparents and we were their middle son, Ty’s, Godparents. When was the last time we had all gotten together? Something tightened in my throat at the thought all of us never being together again.What would it be like now? Without Sean here?

  “She says she isn’t. She said she has to keep it together for the kids, and that Sean wouldn’t want her crying”, Cara says her voice almost cracking when she says Sean’s name, “He really wouldn’t.” I take a deep breath, a twinge of guilt stirs in me for hiding in the shadows of my house knowing this is my cue to walk into the kitchen, so I take a deep breath and walk into the kitchen, with my smile pasted on my face.

  “Hey, you guys doing ok? Want any more coffee or food?” I ask smiling politely, trying not to roll my eyes at Allison.

  “No Sabrina, thank you though. Why don’t you sit down, let me make you a plate. I don’t think I have seen you eat today.” Allison stood up. Nice gesture, I guess.

  “I’ll sit, maybe just some cake and coffee though? Thanks.” I say so that she would get up and go away for a bit, give Cara and Emily a break. “The service was nice, don’t you guys think?” I ask smiling.

  “Yeah, everyone spoke so wonderfully about Sean babe.” Cara says as she holds my hand. I look at her warmly and smile.

  “Yeah they did. Thank you for talking up there. I know Sean would appreciate it. He knows how much you hate talking in front of an audience… I mean he knew that.” Sometimes I forget the past tense, when I remember a tightening starts in my throat; like a huge knot is tightening its grip over me. I breathe in and ask, “Where are the kids?” even though I already know Kelly is watching them in the backyard.

  “They are playing in the backyard, don’t worry Kelly is watching them. “ Allison answers as she brings a slice of cake and coffee walking into the kitchen sitting next to Cara. The break being too short, I glance over at Emily and see her roll her eyes, she sees that I saw and she bites away a laugh, and I smile.

  “Good. That’s good. She is really good with them.” I say as I take a bite, and a sip of coffee. I look up at them and they are all staring at me. Somehow the thought of this is what fish must feel like in a fishbowl strikes in my head.

  “I should go check how the people in the living room are on coffee and food. I don’t want to get stuck with all these leftovers.” I say as I play with the rest of the cake just really moving it around. I’m not sure who made this, but it’s horribly dry.

  Cara stands and says, “Don’t worry about that Rina, I
’ll do it.”

  “No. I feel better doing something.” I say noticing the genuine worry in Emily and Cara’s eyes. They look at one another silently.

  “Why don’t you go with me, I have to go to the store, we need ice & chips.” Says a deep male voice, the women at the table look up and see Nick standing by the door. Nick’s tall, six foot one, lean, has a runner’s body with brown shaggy hair that is slightly curling at his neck, long overdue for a haircut and warm coffee brown eyes. He is the boy next door mixed with bad boy scruffiness. Dressed in a black suit with a white dress shirt and thin black tie, he looks great. A rumpled type of sexy, like he fell asleep in his suit. He probably did. I think I heard someone say he flew in from Denver to be here today.

  I have been avoiding him like the plague, because being my best guy friend I knew he wanted me to talk, to spill my guts and feelings and I’m not ready for that. He knew me better than I knew myself at times, especially since we had been friends for what had felt like a lifetime.

  “Sounds good, but I have to keep an eye on the kids.” I tell him and he frowns.

  “Go, I’ll watch them. You need a break. Plus you know our family, they never leave early.” Cara says, probably hoping I will go with Nick.

  Nick’s my best guy friend, has been for years and years and years. No matter how much time flies by, we know we can count on one another;he is one of my oldest friends. Friends since middle school, he is one of those people who have become like family. Sean liked him. They used to enjoy watching whatever games were on when he had come to visit, and on more than one occasion, Sean had flown up to Denver, where Nick was at most of the time for work, to go watch a Bronco’s game.

  “Okay.” I give in, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, “We will be quick, and I have my cell if you need me.” I say standing up smoothing down my grey dress, then follow Nick out the front door, everyone’s eyes on my burning into my back.

  ***

  Nicholas “Nick” Riley

  We walk quietly side by side down the street to my car, and I open the door for her and she says, “Thanks.”