The Core Four Series

by Stacy Borel

  Having a child is like having your heart walking around outside your body.

  I had too many nervous tendencies since my parents passed away, to even consider having children. No way in the world was I prepared to allow my heart to walk around outside my body.

  Turner has hardly left my side since I got the news. I didn’t know how to speak to him about my grief. I tried yesterday, but nothing came out of my mouth. So I continued on with head nods and shakes as my form of communication and doing the things that others expect from you to show that you’re okay. I learned far too early that when someone passes away, the people around you want and need you to be okay, so that they may move on with their own lives. Was it selfish of them? I had no clue. But I could also tell Turner may be on to me. He didn’t just watch me, he studied me. It should have made me uncomfortable him being here, but it didn’t. His presence was nice, and he never once forced me to talk about anything. He didn’t ask me to cry, or tell him how I was feeling. He’s simply let me be. But I knew he sensed me. There was something there under the surface of those blue eyes that were watching me. For now, he let me know he was near and it was enough.

  Today was just another day that I woke up with the same empty feeling I’d felt the last three days. No Noah, and the fear that life could take a tragic turn for me or anybody else I knew. I rolled over in my bed and smelled that a fresh pot of coffee had been made. Frowning, I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Living like this wasn’t ideal for anyone. It was time to make face with Turner, just so I could come back into my room and sleep some more. As I left my comfortable bed, I glanced in the mirror on my way out.

  Ewwww, holy crap!

  I had a nest forming on the top of my head that would be perfect for a couple baby birds, and I had dark circles under my eyes. I tried to run my fingers through my thick hair, but had no luck. They got stuck in the tangles and I gave up. Lifting my shoulders and exhaling, it didn’t matter. Turner wouldn’t stick around too much longer. He was going to get tired of my attitude and leave.

  “Morning, beautiful.” Turner greeted me. He was leaning up against the kitchen counter, shirtless, a pair of sweat pants hanging low on his hips. Could that V get any deeper? Even in my state of mind, I was fully capable of appreciating the man that stood before me. He twisted behind himself to hand me a mug. The simple motion caused my lips to part. When he handed it to me, his blue eyes held mine. There was a warm fire just under the surface that I could see burning. Oh my.

  “Morning,” I rasped.

  He took a sip of his coffee and asked, “How’d you sleep?”

  I shook off the errant thoughts and answered, “Like I have been.”

  “Restless?”

  I frowned. “No. Dreamlessly.”

  He set his mug down. “Sounds boring.”

  What in the hell? “Sorry to bore you.” I went to the coffee pot and poured my first cup.

  “Annabelle, you’re not boring me. You’re misunderstanding what I’m saying. Get your coffee and come out on the deck.”

  He walked out the sliding glass door, and left me standing there to figure out what he was doing.

  I dumped some cream and sugar into my “Follow Your Dreams” mug. The irony wasn’t lost on me, and walked in the same direction he did. Turner was sitting in my dad’s chair. I stopped and analyzed how I felt seeing him sitting there. That was a special seat, and only someone who meant something to me should ever be allowed to sit there. After my parents died, all of the distant family and friends that came in and out of this house, I guarded that chair with my life. Nobody was to sit there except my dad or me. And since he was gone, it was only a place for me. A thousand emotions swirled through me, but not a single one was anger or the urge to tell him he needed to move. Turner was welcome there, and I was more than okay with it.

  “You going to stand there watching me, or do you plan on coming over here to talk to me?”

  I raised my brow despite him not being able to see it. “Are you always so bossy and demanding?”

  “No. I could be worse,” he said matter of fact.

  Great. Lord only knows what that was really like. I came to stand in front of him and made a show of leaning against the railing and feigning indifference to his sassy mouth.

  “What’s up?”

  He wanted to chuckle but he didn’t. Instead his expression turned stoic. “We are going to do something a little different. I know you probably want to have your coffee and go lay back down and drown out the day, but not today.”

  My heart picked up its pace. “What are you talking about, Turner?”

  “When you’re done with your little breakfast there. . .” He nodded toward my cup. “I’m going to need you to go take a nice long shower, relax your muscles, and get ready for the day. I’ll put some clothes out for you. We have somewhere we need to be this morning.”

  I was already feeling defensive. He wasn’t going to force me out of my home just because he didn’t want to stay here. “No. You can go do whatever it is that you need to do, but I’m not in the mood to do anything.”

  “I’m not asking, Annabelle.”

  “Neither am I.” I squared my shoulders.

  He sighed, looking slightly defeated. “Please. I’m not going to make you do anything that you don’t want to do, but this is something that I think you need.”

  “And what’s that?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not saying. You’ll fight me tooth and nail, and, frankly, I don’t think you are ready for that battle.”

  “I’m not in the mood for one of your crazy ass dates, Turner.”

  He almost looked offended. “I’m not taking you on a date.”

  Okay, now I was confused. If he wasn’t taking me on a crazy date, where else would he need to drag me kicking and screaming?

  “I need to have an idea of what is going on, okay? I’ll admit I’m feeling anxious about stepping foot outside of my comfort zone. You must at least understand that much.”

  His eyes softened. “I do. We are meeting up with my mom. She asked me to bring you somewhere, and I promised I would. So would you please? If not for me, at least try for her?”

  The mother card was now in play. What on Earth could Donna have in store for me today? She’d stopped by a few times, maybe even more while I was sleeping, to check on me. She was the only one I’d confided in with my true feelings about Noah. She was a mom of four boys. There was something very maternal going on deep in my bones when it came to the baby. It was unexpected, but she opened her mind to why I felt the way that I did. She shared stories with me how she thought when Camden was born something horrible was happening to him. Turns out, he had an irregular heartbeat and a small murmur. When it’s your baby and they aren’t the epitome of health, your world stops. You question why these things are happening to you and your baby. Noah may not have been mine, but I did love him. I felt drawn to him the moment he was born and his own mother didn’t want to give him a name. I promised myself before I walked out of that delivery room that I would show him what a gentle touch was. Donna praised me for loving unconditionally. She said it was very much the sign of a mother. I wouldn’t call myself that at all, but if there was a step below that . . . that was me.

  Since it was for Donna, I didn’t fight him. I held my cup in both of my hands and nodded. Standing, Turner took a step toward me and placed his lips on my forehead. I closed my eyes and savored the feeling. He was so warm, while I felt so cold. When he pulled away, he went back into the house giving me time to myself, as if I didn’t already have an abundance of it. I tossed the rest of my coffee over the railing, not feeling like stomaching the rest. Shower time.

  It took me no time at all to get washed up. Although my hair was clearly in the mood to fight today, I won. When I came out of the steaming shower with a towel wrapped around me, Turner had made good on his word—a pair of black dress pants and a deep burgundy, three-quarter length top laid on the bed. This was a bit more fancy than I had expected
. Where were we going? I sighed. Probably lunch at the country club or something. Anything for Donna to get me out of the house. I’d appease her. I was in no mood to mess with putting on make-up though. I threw my hair up while it was still wet, slapped on some clear gloss, and went out to the living room. Turner had already gotten dressed. He was wearing a pair of black slacks and a white button down dress shirt. Was this really how they dressed at the country club? I’d never been to one, so maybe. I’ve read some things about them being stuffy.

  “You look nice.” Turner complimented me when I came into view.

  “Thank you. So do you.”

  He stood and grabbed his keys. “All right, let’s head out.”

  I wanted to ask where we were headed, but I knew he wouldn’t answer. If I was to know where I was going, I’d know by now. He texted someone while we were still in the driveway, but then set his phone down and we took off down the road. I assumed it was his mom. The ride was silent. I honestly had nothing to say. I closed my eyes and relaxed my slightly frazzled body. Being out of the safety of my home was a little more daunting than I had envisioned it being. My thoughts ran wild. Every car that passed, made me wonder if they’d cross the double lines and run head on into us. Every curve that Turner took, I questioned if he was going too fast and we’d flip. Closing my eyes to the outside world was the only way I was going to survive this trip.

  I had no concept of time, which direction we were going, or what my surroundings looked like. But when I felt the car ease to a stop and I opened my eyes and saw where I was, every single emotion a human being could have raced through me. I felt Turner’s eyes on me, but I swear if I said anything right now, it wouldn’t be pretty. How could he? How could Donna? I scanned the grounds. I knew where I was, but how did they know? Did they research? I supposed it wouldn’t take much. It’s not like these things weren’t printed in the newspapers when it happened.

  “Annabelle?” he quietly asked.

  I swallowed. My throat was dry and I wanted to cough. No scratch that, I wanted to puke. I never came here. He knew this.

  “Annabelle,” he repeated.

  Rows and rows of headstones lined the immaculate green grass. It was hilly just like I remembered it, and we were a ways out of the city. The sky was bright blue, but the air was crisp and cool, a warning that fall was not far in the distance. It would be almost beautiful if it was any other place besides a cemetery. I hadn’t been here in years. In fact, not since the day my parents were put in the ground.

  “No, Turner.” My voice shook.

  He reached for my hand and I pulled away. “Listen, I know this is probably a shock to you, but I think there’s something you need to see.”

  “There’s nothing for me to see, get me the hell out of here.”

  “No.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t want to be here.”

  He raised his brow. I’d never said that word in front of him before, and me saying it made him realize I was serious. “I’m standing behind bringing you here, so would be you please follow me?”

  “I’m out. You won’t take me back home, I’m walking.” I got out of the car and slammed the door. I only got a few feet away when I heard his door close and he was in front of me, blocking my only exit out of the black iron gates.

  “So help me, Annabelle, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you over there, but I’m asking you to not make me do that.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Carry me where? I told you the other night I never wanted to step foot here again. There’s no purpose.”

  “There is now. Get your ass moving.” He was getting pissed.

  The nerve of him. “Don’t you dare get pissed off at me. You had no business bringing me here. Seriously, I fucking confide in you, tell you things I’ve never told a soul, I trusted you. And you go off and do the one thing that is so damn cruel and insensitive.” I went to march around him, but stopped when I heard Donna’s voice.

  “It wasn’t him, honey, it was me. He’s only doing what I asked of him.” I hadn’t even heard her approaching.

  I faced her, mouth slightly parted. I shook my head back and forth. “Why?”

  She reached forward and grabbed my hand, placing mine in both of hers. “Follow me.”

  Donna released me and started walking away. Glancing back at Turner, he mouthed “sorry” to me, and followed his mom. This couldn’t be happening. His family had officially lost their minds. What business could I possibly have here? I said my goodbyes the day my parents were placed into the ground. Did she want me to sit and talk to them? Sorry, but I wasn’t one of those people. I didn’t come here, lay on the grass and speak to them like they could hear me. If there was any place I felt my parents, it was at home. My arms were at my sides and I was feeling absolutely defeated. I didn’t want to fight, and I didn’t want to be here. Squaring my shoulders, I’d do whatever it is that she wanted me to do and then I would high tail it out of there. Donna wouldn’t be hearing from me for a while. She had to know that this wasn’t okay. In fact, I wasn’t sure if I was going to be giving Turner the silent treatment after this as well. I knew one thing, when I got back home, I’d be asking him to leave. This was all just cruel.

  Reluctantly, I walked behind them, keeping my distance. I went over every possible reason why I was brought here but nothing prepared me for seeing the rest of the Brooks clan. There they stood by a freshly dug plot and a small casket that was no bigger than the size of an . . . infant. I stopped in my tracks, my hand going to my mouth. I gasped, shaking my head back and forth. Turner heard me and started to come to my aid. Donna held him back and told him to go over with everyone else. When she approached me, she was very cautious.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she told me.

  My mouth opened and closed. “Is that?” I didn’t want to finish.

  She nodded. “I made a few phone calls. I know you probably don’t want to be here or do this, but when this pain starts to feel a little less and you think about Noah, I want you to know exactly where he is, and that he had a final place . . . with you.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. I was speechless. The anger I’d previously felt was pushed back and sadness seeped into me. “But the rest of the family is here.”

  She looked confused. “Of course they are. Don’t you know why?”

  I shook my head no.

  A serene smile came across her lips. “Because, honey, my Turner has fallen for you. The moment I saw it, you became family, and that means we are all here for you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will. Come.” She guided me to where everyone was standing.

  Turner took my hand and gave it a squeeze. Paul stood in front of everyone and spoke.

  “Annabelle, I want you to know that we are all deeply sorry for your loss. You’ve been dealt some very challenging hands in your short life, and yet you seem to have handled it all with grace and dignity. Instead of making decisions to hide from what God has put on your plate, you showed perseverance during what could be the most trying time in a person’s life.” He paused and looked directly at me. “And now this. I know none of us may truly understand how you could be feeling at this very moment or for the last couple of days, but we wanted you to know one thing—you are family. You are part of something bigger than you think. Donna and myself, and of course our boys, we are here for you. Anything you may need, all you have to do is ask. Although we may get nosey and just assume we know what’s best for you.” They all let out a small chuckle. “I’m sure you can tell by what my wife has done here. This is not a traditional funeral or anything. Why Donna chose to do this was simply because Noah deserved a place to rest, and you, my dear, you deserved peace of mind and to know because you have a place with us, so did he.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. My tears turned into a river, and I was full on sobbing. Never in my life would I have thought people would care enough about me to do something like this. Paul wasn’t done. Just a
s his last words left his mouth, he stepped aside. I was too preoccupied by the gathering of everyone, and the baby’s casket, I hadn’t even seen what had been behind him. There was a small grave stone that read:

  Baby Noah

  Oct 21, 2015

  Loved by one, felt by many

  I went to my knees. Turner had the mind to try and catch me, but I shooed him away. I needed my space. “Oh my God,” I whispered. Both of my hands were covering my mouth and my cheeks were soaked. “I never thought . . .” I trailed off. If a person was capable of sensory overload, I was having it. My brain didn’t want to wrap around the possibility that there were such generous people in this world, or people who thought beyond themselves to do such a kind thing.

  I glanced up at everyone around me as they all watched me. Turner, Donna, Paul, Wrigley, Dodger, Camden, and Keegan. Macie wasn’t there, but it was okay. “Family,” I said out loud. “This is what a family is.”

  Turner kneeled by me. “Yeah, beautiful, this is family.” He kissed my forehead and wiped some of my tears away.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  Keegan sniffled, and Camden put his arm around her.

  “Anybody need a joke to lighten the mood?” Wrigley asked.

  Dodger slapped the back of his head. I’m starting to think that was his defense against anything that made him uncomfortable—making people laugh.