Never is a Promise

by Winter Renshaw

  I crossed my arms. “How long have you known?”

  “Maybe four, five years?”

  “Were you ever going to tell me?” My words assumed a shrill, high-pitched accusatory tone I’d never taken with him before.

  “Dakota,” he said, placing his hands on mine. “Yeah, it was always in the back of my mind, but I figured it was your place to tell me. And I trusted you’d tell me when you were ready.”

  I slumped back, falling into the leather armchair in the corner of the dressing room. A thousand thoughts filled my mind faster than I could process them. Beau followed me, dropping to his knees and placing his hands across my thighs.

  “Listen,” he said. “I appreciate what you did for us. For her.”

  My eyes found his.

  “I can’t imagine it was a cakewalk for you to be eighteen, nineteen years old and going through this pregnancy all alone.”

  “I had Rebecca.”

  “Still. It should’ve been me. I should’ve been there. I should’ve been beside you making the decisions so you didn’t have to do it by yourself.”

  “Agreed.” I drew in a sharp breath. “I tried to contact you, you know. Multiple times.”

  His brows furrowed.

  “You never got back to me.”

  His full lips formed a sharp line as he stared deep into my eyes – into my soul. “I thought I was protecting you from me. I thought you were just trying to get back together, and the timing was all wrong. I thought I was protecting us from ourselves. The second I played my first sold out show, I was no longer the man you fell in love with, and that’s why I stayed away.”

  I admitted to myself that perhaps I didn’t try hard enough. After the first few months of being ignored, I washed my hands of it all and chose to resent him instead.

  His hand cupped my face. “God, it must’ve been so hard for you to shoulder this burden all by yourself.”

  I wiped away a single tear. I’d cried enough over the situation to last a lifetime. I refused to cry again.

  “What you did,” he said, “makes me love you even more than I already did.”

  He lifted up, his lips meeting mine as his fingers brushed the hair from my face.

  “You know why I love you, Dakota?”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because you’re beautiful and strong and resilient,” he said. “And that’s the one part of you that hasn’t changed at all.”

  I flashed a half-smile, my shoulders relaxing as the weight of the world began to dissipate.

  “I think you’ve had to sacrifice enough the last ten years, don’t you think?” Beau rose and pulled me up into his arms. “Maybe it’s time I sacrifice a few things.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I was thinking of getting me a pretty little penthouse somewhere in this God-forsaken city.”

  I laughed. “You hate New York.”

  “Yeah, but home isn’t a zip code. Home is wherever you are, Dakota.”

  My eyes closed as I pressed my cheek against his chest, breathing him in and slipping my arms around his waist.

  He’d kept his promise. He’d come back for me.

  A knock on the door pulled us out of our moment.

  Beau placed a kiss on the top of my forehead. “I’ve got to go sign some autographs. Meet some fans. You know the drill.”

  We drifted away, slowly, as if we both wanted to prolong our moment, and the second his hand grabbed the doorknob but before he left the room, I had to tell him one last thing. “I love you, Beau.”

  Always have. Always will.

  Happy birthday to you…

  Happy birthday to you…

  Happy birthday, dear Mabry…

  Happy birthday to you!

  We gathered around the patio at Sam and Rebecca’s, standing back as Mabry blew out the rainbow-colored candles of her birthday cake. With smiles on our faces, we cheered and clapped and watched as she immediately stared up into the faces of her mom and dad, basking in their excitement.

  I slipped my hand into Dakota’s, leaning in and whispering, “You doing okay?”

  She nodded, her gaze focused on the beautiful little doll in the pink party dress. A table full of kids sticking their fingers in the frosting and giggling and talking about toys and games filled our hearts with the kind of simple abundance I’d rarely felt before.

  Rebecca pulled candles out of the cake as Sam began cutting small squares and depositing them into bowls of chocolate ice cream. When all the little ones were cheeks deep in sugary stuff, Rebecca made her way toward us.

  “Thanks so much for coming.” Her eyes were gracious and her expression sincere. “It means a lot to have you here. Both of you.”

  Dakota had flown in earlier in the week, and we’d scheduled a sit down with Sam and Rebecca. Nothing was off the table, and all four of us came together in agreement. Dakota and I would be a part of Mabry’s life, and when she was old enough to ask about meeting her biological parents, we’d tell her the truth.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said, turning toward Dakota. “Won’t miss another one so long as we live.”

  “Time to open presents,” Sam announced, sending the kids’ attention toward a card table covered in a princess tablecloth and housing a mountain of wrapped gifts. He handed her ours first; a small blue box with a white ribbon.

  Mabry pulled the top of the box off to reveal a silver locket with an M inscribed on the outside and her birthstone, a vivid emerald, mounted on the inside.

  “That’s from Dakota and Beau,” Rebecca said.

  Mabry spun around, dark hair in her face, as she scanned the area for our faces. She climbed down from her spot at the table and ran into Dakota’s arms first, wrapping her arms around Dakota’s waist.

  “Thanks, Dakota! It’s so pretty,” she said before turning her attention toward me. She scrunched her nose at me and stifled a grin. She’d technically only met me once and it was earlier that week, so she still wasn’t sure what to think of me yet. Cocking her head to the side and staring up at me through long dark lashes, she was the spitting image of her stunning mother. “Thanks, Beau…”

  “You’re welcome, beautiful.” I lowered my knees until I was eye level with her. “Want me to put it on you?”

  Mabry nodded and handed me the box. I fastened the silver locket around her neck and ruffled the top of her soft brown hair, and with that, she ran back toward the table to open more presents.

  “She’ll warm up to you,” Rebecca said. “Just give her time.”

  “I’ve got all the time in the world.” My chest tightened as I thought about everything I’d ever missed over the past decade and everything I’d miss in the future. I wouldn’t be the one scaring away ill-intentioned boys. I wouldn’t be the one teaching her how to drive or posing beside her in graduation pictures. I wouldn’t be the one walking her down the aisle on her wedding day.

  But I’d be there for all of it, as much as I could.

  “Shall we head home?” Dakota said after a couple hours had passed.

  “I love that you’re okay with calling the ranch home now,” I said, leaning in and kissing her grinning mouth.

  “It does feel kind of unnatural after all these years, but I think I’ll get used to it.”

  We left the Valentine house and headed back to the ranch, bumping down the road in New Old Blue as Dakota flipped through listings on her phone that Addison had emailed her.

  I placed my hand on her knee as she scooted across the bench seat and curled up against my arm with her head on my shoulder. “We’re going to have to figure out some kind of schedule.” She scrunched her eyes as she zoomed in on tiny listing photos on her phone. “I’ll be working Monday through Friday. We’ll have to fly home on the weekends, assuming I don’t have any other events. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

  “Yes,” I said without pause. “I’m retired. I don’t have a damn thing going on, and I’ll be damned if I keep you fro
m living your dream. I promise you, Dakota, I’ll never ask for you to sacrifice another thing for me so long as you live. And where we come from, never is a promise.”

  She pulled in a soft sigh and melted into me, and within minutes we were driving under the canopy of shade trees that lead to Mason Ranch Road.

  Two Years Later

  “We’re really going to miss you, Coco.” The cast and crew of the MBC Morning Show gathered around an enormous cake with “Good luck, Coco!” written on it along with a portrait of my face done in digitized frosting.

  “Thanks, everyone.” I wore a painted smile and sad eyes as I looked around the room to the people who’d become like a second family to me over the years. I’d miss them all. Each and every one of them. My hair and makeup gurus. My cue card guy. My assistant. A team of producers and sound and lighting and camera people. The only person missing was Harrison, and he’d played the biggest role in helping me rise to the top. Not long after I moved out of our apartment, he accepted an executive spot at a smaller network in Los Angeles. In a roundabout way, he was fleeing his hometown the way I’d fled mine. “Thank you so much for this. I’m going to miss you all.”

  My hairstylist hugged me tight and my assistant handed me a plate with a slice of cake on it that was easily enough for two people.

  “Taylor,” I laughed. “I might be eating for two, but one is about the size of a pineapple.”

  I placed a hand across my growing belly where Beaumont Junior was growing bigger by the day. It wouldn’t be long before the third trimester travel restriction would be placed on me, and I wanted to have him back home.

  “So, you’re leaving us for the hills of Kentucky, eh?” my producer, Barbara, said. “I’ve heard it’s a beautiful state.”

  “It’s breathtaking, Barbara. It took me a very long time to appreciate that.” I forked a chunk of cake and welcomed the sugary goodness that flooded my taste buds. “I can pretend I’m a New Yorker all I want, but Kentucky is my home.”

  We wrapped up my little retirement party, and I headed uptown to the apartment I shared with my husband. He’d purchased it a couple years back so I could still work in the city.

  Beau kept his complaining about New York to a minimum, opting to head out to New Hampshire or Upstate whenever he was feeling too crammed. And on the weekends, we’d head back home to Darlington when we could.

  “Hey, Kota,” he said as I walked in the door that afternoon. A team of movers were putting all our things in boxes and hauling them down to a waiting truck. Beau headed over to me, placing his hand on my belly and bending at the knees to leave a single kiss. “Hey, little man.”

  “I’m going to miss this place,” I said, glancing over his shoulder at the view of the city. The twinkling of the city at night was like my own personal planetarium. I’d mentioned that to Beau once, but then he reminded me that back home, I’d have the real thing: actual stars I could see and more cloudless night skies than I’d know what to do with.

  “You can come back anytime you want,” he said. “Addison and Wilder are here, so we’ll be back all the time, especially when they get sick and tired of globetrotting and decide to make a little cousin for little Junior here.”

  “She hates that I’m moving back home,” I laughed, picking up a 5x7 framed photo from our wedding that had yet to be packed. Barefoot in a white country sundress with a crown of baby’s breath in my long wavy hair, it was one of the happiest days of our lives. We married back in Kentucky, under the oak tree by our favorite fishing hole just beyond the ranch. Beau’s family was there as were Mama, Addison, and Wilder. And of course Sam, Rebecca, and Mabry.

  “Think she’ll ever move back?”

  “No, no, no. Never in a million years. She loves the city even more than me, and Wilder does too.”

  ***

  I stood over the kitchen sink of the Mason ranch, washing out a casserole dish. Our neighbors to the west, the Janssens, had dropped off dinner for us the night we got back into town. A soft breeze floated in and washed over my face, bringing with it the sweet smell of lilacs from the bushes outside.

  Beau was outside talking to a man who was going to be dropping off four horses in the coming weekend. We were officially hobby horse breeders, and never in a million years did I think that would be my life.

  Gone were my days of stepping into high heels that pinched my feet and cost more than most people earned in a week, and gone were my days of finding my validation in the form of millions of faceless television viewers.

  I was no longer Coco Bissett, and I’d never be her again so long as I lived.

  There was a certain elegance in simplicity. There was luxury in peace and quiet. There was grace and refinement in the still, quiet moments. And it took me thirty-one years to realize that I’d been looking for all the right things in all the wrong places.

  Happiness was watching my husband stand outside, wheeling and dealing over Tennessee Walking horses with his hands resting in the belt loops of his tight jeans.

  Happiness was feeling my baby rumble and roll inside my belly, knowing that he was all ours and I wouldn’t have to place him into someone else’s arms for the rest of his life.

  Happiness was knowing that sweet Mabry was just a car ride away, and that we could still watch her grow up and be there for her every step of the way when she needed us.

  Happiness was knowing I could forgive someone for hurting me in the worst way imaginable and end up loving them even more anyway.

  I wiped my hands on a dishrag and set the casserole dish to dry before heading outside. The horse guy pulled away in his red truck, giving Beau a wave out the window.

  “We all good?” I asked, slipping my arm behind his lower back.

  “We are,” he said. “Three mares and a champion stallion.”

  “Let the fun begin.” I patted his back and turned to head back into the house, stopping when his hand gently gripped my arm, pulling me back into him.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Mrs. Mason?” Beau cupped my face and leaned down, crushing my lips with his. Bare grass beneath my feet tickled as I dug my toes into the earth. I loved when he kissed me so hard it made my toes curl.

  That was happiness.

  Winter Renshaw recently celebrated her third 29th birthday. By day, she wrangles kids and dogs, and by night, she wrangles words. She loves photography and peonies and lipstick and isn’t a huge fan of rude people. Chips and salsa are her jam, and so is cruising down the highway with the windows down and the air blasting while 80s rock blares from the speakers of her Mom-UV.

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  With a grateful heart,

  Winter

  PS – Page ahead for a preview of DARK PARADISE – coming summer 2015!

  PPS – There will be a third installment in the NEVER SAY NEVER series! Publication date is unknown…but will be likely be summer 2015! Make sure you subscribe to my mailing list or friend me on Facebook to be notified as soon as my books are live and on sale!

  DARK PARADISE – Coming Summer 2015!

  Unedited excerpt – subject to change

  DESCRIPTION

  There’s a name for girls like me: Sugar Baby. I’m used to being passed around the sexually depraved, middle-aged senators of Washington D.C. like candy, but when I meet him – the guy who makes me wear blindfolds and only lets me call him “John�
�� – everything changes.

  He sounds much too young to be a sugar daddy, and he claims that if anyone found out about us, there would be major consequences. Especially for him. He wants to buy my exclusivity for one year. I’ll consider it, but only under one condition.

  I want him to show me his face.

  But he prefers this thing we’re doing to be dark. No phones. No light. No real names. Inhibition-free anonymity. I’m his dark paradise, he says. We have to keep it that way. He says I’ll thank him someday.

  I’m not so sure.

  ONE – NORI

  “Don’t take another step,” he said as the heavy hotel room door slammed behind me. My heels anchored into the dense carpet, my body paralyzed by the assertion in his command. The room was pitch black save for the sliver of light that broke through the heavy drapes. In the corner stood a man, or rather, the outline of a man. I couldn’t see his face. “There’s a blindfold on the table to your left. Put it on.”

  “Why? Are you some kind of monster?” I meant to sound lighthearted, but the second my voice broke, I showed my cards. My stomach flipped as I grabbed the blindfold off the table and tied the fabric around my eyes. Satin. Maybe silk. Blackest black. “Where do you want me?”

  The hotel air conditioning kicked on, bringing a quick chill to my mostly bare skin. My left spaghetti strap fell down my shoulder.

  “Leave it,” he said as I attempted to fix it. “It’s going to be off soon enough.”

  His voice sounded closer. Licking my lips, I forced a smile, swallowing the warning sirens going off in my head that drowned out my better judgment and scrambled my thoughts. I could smell him. Vetiver and bergamot with a hint of cigar smoke.

  The John’s arm gripped the crook of my elbow with firm intention as he led me over to the bed.