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Holding Onto Forever (The Beaumont Series: Next Generation Book 1)

Page 3

by Heidi McLaughlin


  Wait, I am dying? What if I don’t want to? I mean I want to see my father, but I don’t want to leave my mom. And there are things that I want to do, like be on television and be there when Noah wins the Super Bowl. That’s his dream, and mine for him. We’ve spent countless hours talking about what it’ll be like for his family to run onto the field and for him to raise the Lombardi trophy for all the fans of the Portland Pioneers to see. I plan to be there as a broadcaster even though I’d be biased during my reporting. Maybe that would have to be a game I skip so I can yell at him from the fifty-yard line. Either way, Noah will want me there, so I can’t die.

  The doctor leaves and another nurse walks in and stands by my other side. “Jenna, do you want me to sit with her while you eat?”

  Jenna? I have an aunt named Jenna. She has beautiful red hair and looks nothing like the nurse who is holding my hand.

  “No, I’m not leaving her.”

  “I’ll bring you something then.”

  Jenna nods but keeps her eyes focused on my body. It’s weird. Usually I can tell when someone is staring at me, but I can’t seem to make my eyes open.

  She leaves my side and goes to the sink, wetting a towel and filling another pan with water. When she returns, she picks up my hand and starts cleaning the blood that has dried around my nails and along my arm, cleaning around the cuts carefully. Every so often she dips the cloth into the water and it turns light pink. When Jenna has finished both arms, she starts on my hair, careful not to touch the area where my scalp is missing.

  Jenna pulls a brush out of a bag and runs its bristles under the faucet. She runs it through the ends of my hair, working her way up until almost every strand is wet and then she braids what she can.

  I wait for her to move the blanket that covers my chest so I can see what they did to my chest, but she never does.

  “Your mom should be here soon, sweetheart. Then you can go and you won’t be in pain anymore,” she says, but she doesn’t realize that I don’t want to go, at least not yet. And I’m not in pain.

  “I feel great,” I say as I look down at my body. I’m still in the outfit that I wore the game. My arms aren’t cut up, my hair is still perfectly styled and I’m happy.

  Her friend returns with some food and that reminds me that Kyle still owes me dinner. “Where’s Kyle? Do you know? He was supposed to take me out to dinner.”

  Neither lady answers me and it’s starting to make me mad that they’re ignoring me. Why can’t they see me standing here next to them? I can see them and hear everything they’re saying yet they act like I’m not even in the room.

  “Did you give her a bath?”

  “Not really,” Jenna says. “I cleaned up the blood and braided her hair. I don’t want that to be the first thing her mom sees, ya know.”

  “You’re a good nurse, Jenna.”

  She smiles at her friend with tears in her eyes. The other nurse goes to the book that lies on the counter and makes a note. Again, I try to see what it says, but everything is blurry. It doesn’t make sense because I have perfect eyesight.

  My dad, Elle, and Quinn walk by the large window of my room. I go to them, desperate to feel their arms around me, but my dad looks right through me.

  “Dad… Elle… Quinn…?” but they don’t say anything. In fact, they ignore me like everyone else has been doing this entire time.

  I stand in front of Elle and look at my twin. She’s so beautiful. Tears stream down her face and her hand covers her heart. Does she know that I’m not in pain?

  There’s an audible gasp and I turn to see my dad in the doorway. Elle now stands next to him with her hand covering her mouth. She almost falls to her knees but my dad holds her upright.

  “Mr. James,” the doctor stops speaking when he looks at Elle.

  “This is Peyton’s twin.”

  He nods. “I’m Dr. Stevens. I operated on your daughter when she was brought in by ambulance.”

  “Is she going to be okay?” my dad asks, but the doctor shakes his head.

  “As we said on the phone, we don’t expect her to make it through the night. She suffered severe trauma when the truck collided with her side of the car. We’ve operated, but the damage was extensive. I’m sorry,” he says, resting his hand on my dad’s shoulder.

  My sister collapses even though Quinn tries to catch her he’s unable to. She cries loudly while my brother tries to console her.

  “Just like our father,” she screams loudly in between sobs. “Just like our father.”

  4

  Noah

  From the moment I was told that Peyton had been in a car accident until now, everything has moved in incredibly slow motion. The details are fuzzy and each time my dad tries to reach Harrison, his calls are going to voicemail. The worry in my dad and Grandma’s eyes is evident.

  All I can think about is the time we lost Mason. His death changed everything. My father returned to Beaumont after learning Mason had died. They were best friends growing up until my dad made a life-changing decision. I suppose that you can say his decision was for the best or maybe it was wrong, depending on how you look at it, but it was right for my parents. They needed the separation to grow and find themselves individually. Everyday since my dad’s return, I have witnessed his undying love for my mom. They have the type of relationship I want, the kind where it doesn’t matter how your day is going, the moment you see that person, you know everything is going to be better.

  My problem is that I don’t know when I’ll know. It’s like I’m waiting for a flash of lightning or for the sky to open up and cast a rainbow that leads me to the one. My mom speaks of soul mates and one true loves, and why wouldn’t she? One look and you can see that my parents are smitten with each other. They’re ridiculous, acting like teenagers all the time, always embarrassing Paige.

  Paige, or Little B as I like to call her, is nestled into my side, fast asleep. The tears she cried earlier were for Peyton. Paige loves Elle and Peyton. They used to babysit her.

  Telling my coach that I was leaving didn’t go well with him or Dessie for that matter. I promised coach I wouldn’t miss practice and I intend to keep that promise. If it meant I had to travel back and forth between Portland and Chicago, I would do it. There was no way I wouldn’t be there when Peyton woke up… because for me there is no other alternative.

  Dessie, on the other hand, didn’t understand why I needed to go in the first place. The problem is that this conversation took place in front of my dad, sister, and grandmother. I don’t think she meant to sound rude or insensitive, but that’s how her words came off and what Bianca heard. If Dessie thought my grandmother didn’t like her before, she can pretty much guarantee that’s the case now.

  We left my dad’s hotel almost as soon as we arrived and I all but ran back to our apartment to pack a bag. The entire way, Dessie whined about me leaving, saying she just got home and it wasn’t fair.

  No, what wasn’t fair was that my friend had been in an accident and the words “not expected to make it” had been said. That sentence alone should’ve prompted Dessie to encourage me to go, not complain. I would expect Dessie to do the same for her friends, except she doesn’t have a connection with anyone like I do Peyton.

  For Dessie, she grew up in a sheltered environment and started modeling at a young age. None of her “friends” are truly her friends and are more like acquaintances who wouldn’t think twice about stabbing her in the back. Her friends have hit on me one too many times, and while I tell her not to trust them, she doesn’t necessarily believe they would do anything to hurt her.

  What she doesn’t understand is the connection that I have with Peyton. No one really does and in the past, it has scared women away. This one time in college, I was dating a girl and Peyton came to visit for Homecoming. Peyton stayed in my room, sleeping in my roommate’s bed, but that was far too much for my girlfriend at the time and she issued an ultimatum—her or Peyton—I chose Peyton. I always have and always will. We ha
ve a bond that is hard to describe.

  And that’s why I’m on this plane, traveling to Chicago. Peyton is hurt and she needs me. She needs to know that I’m there for her during her crisis, just as I would be if she picked up the phone and called me. I’d drop everything for her.

  We don’t know what to expect when we land in Chicago and I’m trying not to fear the worst. My memories of my uncle Mason have all but faded except for the night everything happened. I barely remember him showing me how to tackle properly or teaching me to learn the game of football and not just play it. But I do remember my mom getting the late-night phone call and her leaving me with Nick so she could go be with Peyton and Elle. Nick paced the living room while he chatted on his phone, trying to get whatever information he could about Mason. Being a doctor, he had privileges at the hospital, not to mention Beaumont is a pretty small town and everyone pretty much knows everyone.

  It was Nick who told me that Mason didn’t make it, and I remember wondering what was going to happen next. Mason was a teacher at the high school and the football coach. Katelyn would babysit me after school or be the one to pick me up if I were sick so I know she didn’t work. I was worried that she would move away, but then Liam Page rode into town like a bad ass knight in shining armor and saved her. Financially that is. My dad never let on about all the things he did for Katelyn until much later. He paid for Mason’s funeral, paid off all the Powell’s debt and started trust funds for Peyton and Elle. And he brought Harrison to town, and his arrival changed everything.

  Needing something to distract my mind I press the button that brings the small television to life and go through the channels until I am on ESPN, and because I forgot to pack my headphones, I can only read the ticker at the bottom. *BREAKING NEWS* is scrolling along the bottom and I catch the tail end of it, waiting for it to start again. Whenever I see this I always fear it’s about me, or someone I know with a reported trade, although that wouldn’t warrant a headline like this.

  Chicago Bears quarterback, Kyle Zimmerman was involved in a fatal accident.

  That’s all the ticker says, nothing about who died or where the accident was. I find it ironic that he and Peyton were in an accident on the same day…unless he’s the reason she’s in the hospital. Did he hit her with his car?

  I press the call button to signal the flight attendant. Considering this is a chartered plane it only takes her seconds before she’s at my side. “What can I do for you, Mr. Westbury?”

  “Do you happen to have any headphones?”

  “Sure, one moment.”

  In a flash, she’s back with a pair and already has the bag opened for me, making it easy for me to pull them out. Once the jack is inserted, I’m pressing the volume button so I can hear the report.

  “…erman was leaving Soldier Field after the Bears loss this afternoon when he pulled out in front of a semi-truck that was unable to stop before colliding with the passenger side of his Porsche 911. Zimmerman was taken to Northwestern Memorial with unknown injuries while the driver of the truck was treated on scene. Zimmerman’s unknown female occupant did not survive.”

  The segment cuts to clips of Zimmerman’s career and highlights from today’s game. He has been in the league one year longer than I have, but our games are similar and the media has compared us against one another. He excels in places that I’m weak and vice versa. He also has a better team than I do at the moment.

  Still, I wouldn’t wish an accident like this on anyone. It’s tough on your psyche to lose a game and then to have this happen. I feel sorry for him, losing his girlfriend like this. I can’t imagine what he’s going through.

  When Peyton announced that she was heading to Northwestern, I acted happy for her. Truthfully, I wanted her to go to UCLA with Elle because selfishly I liked the idea of them being together, but Peyton wanted to spread her wings and be on her own. I understood her reasoning, wanting to break away from being a twin. It was the same reason I chose to stay away from the University of Texas…my dad. Not that they wanted me to play football for them.

  Deep down I was nervous that Peyton would be in Chicago by herself and when I was drafted I was praying that the Bears would take me. It was a long shot considering they didn’t need a quarterback, but I had hoped. Moving from Beaumont to Chicago is life changing. The fast-paced world of a major city is vastly different from the ho-hum life that we were used to living. But Northwestern has the best sports broadcasting program in the country and that’s what Peyton wanted.

  Watching ESPN, I kept waiting for them to announce the name of Zimmerman’s girlfriend. There was a growing pit in my stomach that this accident and Peyton’s were somehow related, but I can’t put much stock into it because if she had a boyfriend, she would’ve told me, even if the guy she was seeing was someone in the league. Honestly, I expected Peyton to marry a pro baller. He’d be the only one who could keep up with her and keep her on her toes.

  The flight attendant walks by, telling us we’re about to land. I rouse Betty Paige so she had a chance to be alert when we hurry off the plane and into the waiting car. I half expect a media frenzy at the hospital, but I’m hoping that word hasn’t gone out that Harrison’s daughter is in the hospital. It’s bad enough when we have to deal with the media on a normal day.

  “Are we there?”

  “Almost, Little B,” I tell her as she rights herself in her seat. She looks out her window at the cityscape below. She’s used to traveling and being on tour with the band and has long gotten over the thrill of arriving in a new town.

  “Do you think Eden will be here?”

  I hadn’t thought about Jimmy and Jenna arriving, but I would imagine they would be. We’re a close-knit family and when one is in trouble, we all come together for support.

  “I’m sure she will be soon if she isn’t already.”

  “Do you think Mack and Amelie will be here as well?” she asks.

  I groan like any big brother should do. When I look at Nick, I see a father figure, but Paige doesn’t. She sees the Ashfords as family friends who happen to have a son her age and a daughter a few years younger than her. Mack is a great kid, a lot like me in many ways, but a boy nonetheless and Paige is at that age where she has a crush. I suppose in the grand scheme of things it could be worse, although my dad vows that a Westbury will never marry an Ashford. I suppose there are some things you never get over and for my dad, that would be Nick hitting on my mom while they were dating. Never mind that shortly after I was born, Nick and my mom started dating. But we don’t talk about that much.

  The plane touches down and taxis right to a private hangar where an SUV is waiting. Pleasantries are exchanged as we pile in and within seconds we’re on our way to the hospital. The closer we get, the worse I feel. I try not to let my father’s words from earlier seep too far into my subconscious. I figure if I keep telling myself that the words “they don’t expect her to make it” are overly dramatic then when I see her, she’ll be sitting up and smiling. Except Katelyn would never allow a sentence like that to be muttered about her children.

  I don’t know if my dad paid the driver to break the law or if this is how he drives on a normal basis, but we’re weaving in and out of traffic with our hazards on while he presses the horn every few seconds. By the time we pull up to the hospital entrance, I have never been more relieved to get out of a car.

  With Paige’s hand in mine, we follow my dad into the hospital and into the critical care unit. Grandma, Little B, and I sit in the waiting room while he checks in at the front desk. I could probably go with him, but I don’t want to leave my sister out here by herself.

  I’m not sure how much time passes, but when my dad comes back I can tell he’s been crying and he motions for me to follow him. He takes me away from the waiting room.

  “Go in and say goodbye,” he says, choking up.

  “Excuse me?”

  He shakes his head and tears fall down his cheeks. I’ve seen my dad cry before, but not since Paige
was born. “It’s not good, Noah.” He pats me on the shoulder and sidesteps me and heads toward the waiting room.

  I turn and head toward the automatic doors that will take me to Peyton. I don’t bother asking what room she’s in because it’s easy to tell with the half a dozen people cramming into the small room.

  Quinn and Harrison smile gravely at me as I step into the room. I don’t have a clear shot of Peyton because her mom and mine, along with her sister and a nurse are hovering over her. It takes me a few more steps until I can fully see the little girl turned woman, who used to follow me around carrying a football—the same one I took to her senior prom, taught how to drive, and used to picture myself with—lying on a bed connected to wires that are keeping her alive.

  5

  Peyton

  I suppose there comes a time in everyone’s life when they die. For me, I’ve died and come back; at least that’s what the doctor has told my parents. I was so excited to see them, but they can’t see or hear me. Even now I’m trying to hold my mom’s hand, but she doesn’t feel me squeezing her back, even though she’s begging me to. In fact, she’s asking me to do all sorts of things like open my eyes or wiggle my toes. I am doing everything she asks. She just can’t see me. It’s like I’m in another realm where I can see and hear them, but everything I do, every question I respond to or comment I make lingers in the air.

  Everyone is crying, and that’s saying a lot because I have never seen my dad cry until today. Sure, he’s had misty eyes like when Quinn left for college or when he came home and showed us the Oscar that 4225 West had won for best song in a movie, but never have I been witness to seeing him cry like he is now. I tried to comfort him, to put my arms around him like I used to when I was little, but it didn’t do anything to help ease his pain.

  The same can be said about Quinn. He’s always been the big brother to us, our protector. We had Noah for that as well, but the age difference made it so we were rarely in school together. Quinn fell right in the middle of our group. Friends with Noah and brother to Elle and me, and until today I have never seen him cry. Not even when he was in trouble or when he was given his first drum set. But now he is. He’s sobbing and holding onto Elle as if I’ve died already.

 

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