Paradise City: Harrison Series Book 1

by L. L. Ash

  Tyler’s eyes almost glowed in delight.

  We stumbled through our new bedroom, kissing and groping backwards toward the bed, somehow managing to get his suit off. When it came time for the dress, I demanded he take his time as not to hurt it.

  He slowly slid the zipper down, helping me out of it while trying not to wrinkle it before he took the mass of fabric and threw it over the bench at the foot of the bed. And there I stood before him. White, strapless bra, white lace panties and opaque, pearlescent thigh high hose held up by white garters with blue ribbons going through them. A pearl necklace rested against the curve of my breasts, and tear-shaped pearls hung from my ears.

  “You are the most beautiful woman in the world,” He whispered as he drew closer.

  I kicked my white high heeled pumps off as he approached, causing me to have to look up at him.

  “You’re the most handsome man in the world,” I told him, one thousand percent honest.

  His grin grew and he pressed his palms to my cheeks.

  “It makes me so happy to know that you are forever mine. Only mine. I couldn’t stomach the thought of ever losing you, sharing you...”

  “You’ll never have to,” I promised, pressing my lips to his.

  The kiss was tender, full of promises, hopes, the future that was open for anything, and everything.

  Tyler left the further decorating of the house to me. Furniture was bought but no pictures hung on the wall or knick knacks filling shelves yet. Scott visited the house after our week of honeymoon was over. Tyler and I had discussed going away somewhere, but we ended up deciding to stay at our new home instead, not wanting to waste time with travel. He promised a trip to a tropical paradise sometime in the next year which was fine by me. I hadn’t been feeling so well lately, with nausea and body pains. I had assumed it was stress induced from the wedding, but after a few more weeks of the nausea all day, I decided to go to the doctor. Tyler was leaving that morning, and my appointment was a couple hours later.

  Tyler came down the staircase with one small bag over his shoulder, a duffel in the other hand. His hair, a little longer now, formed a full-quiffed pompadour, arching handsomely over his forehead in a sophisticated, but still young, style. Not to mention, his skin glowed from non-stop sex and relaxation at our new home. Tyler had been home, working from his office most of the time the last month, thanks to Scott and his trips to Brazil in Tyler’s place. Now, however, Tyler was making his first flight since we got married. The silver ring on his left ring finger glinted in the morning sun.

  “I’m so late!” He said, dropping his bag near the door to the garage as he pulled me into his arms. “I love you so freaking much. I’m going to miss the hell out of you. Tell me how the doctor appointment goes.”

  I nodded, pressing a series of kisses onto his face before he pulled away to leave.

  “See you in a week!” he said with a grin, flying out the door to his car.

  Next to it sat my beautiful new sedan. Tyler had gotten me the car for a wedding present. He insisted that he wouldn’t let his wife drive around in an unreliable vehicle, and I easily gave in. My old car was basically a hunk of junk and I was glad to trade up.

  The Challenger backed out of the garage and sped down the long driveway, out of sight.

  I sighed, leaned against the doorframe and felt anxiety twist in my gut. I was worried about him, and I knew I’d miss him so much. And I was anxious about my doctor appointment. So many things ran through my head as to what could be wrong. I remembered my mother going through the cancer, nausea being one of the number one symptoms she’d dealt with. That and breast tenderness, which I also had.

  When the time came, I took a deep breath, grabbed my purse and headed to the doctors office. I waited impatiently to be called back, but when I did, I had to go through a series of questions. I expressed my worries and the doctor made a note of it.

  “And just for kicks and giggles,” he said, crossing one leg over the other leg’s knee, “When was your last menstrual cycle?”

  My head jerked back. I honestly had no idea.

  “Honestly doc, I don’t remember.”

  “Ok, do you remember any event that happened during your last cycle? It’s important.”

  “It was before my wedding,” I said slowly. “Maybe 2 or 3 weeks before, when I went in to check the dress alterations.”

  “So you’re 6-7 weeks late?” he asked. “Is that normal?”

  “Not at all. I’m usually spot on 28 days.”

  “Well that would make a lot of sense. You have a lot of pregnancy symptoms. I want you to go and take a urine specimen and come on back to this room. We’ll check it and I’ll be back to give you the results.”

  I followed the doctor out and he handed me off to a nurse who showed me to the bathroom and handed me a cup to pee into. After peeing and cleaning up I put the cup through the window in the bathroom, behind the toilet, and went back to my room to wait.

  It felt like an eternity, but in reality it was only 15 minutes later. The doctor came in and sat down on his chair, glancing at a couple pages as he sat on his stool.

  “Well Samantha. We did a breast exam, and there were no lumps. Your blood pressure is great and you seem to be the picture of health.”

  My heart dropped. What was he leading toward?

  “We took the urine sample back and tested it, and it indeed came back positive.”

  He looked up and grinned.

  “I’m pregnant?!” I practically shriked.

  “That’s right! Let me be the first to say congratulations!”

  I slumped, my chin resting on my palm in shock.

  “Your symptoms coincide with pregnancy symptoms so I wouldn’t worry about anything else. Just get started on a prenatal vitamin straight away. If our approximation of 6 weeks is correct, you’d be about 10 weeks along, and baby would be due around December second.”

  My brain about burst a vein.

  “Are you serious? I’m really pregnant?”

  He grinned and nodded.

  “I’d like to see you back in a couple weeks and we can do an ultrasound to ease your mind. Congratulations again, Samantha. I’m sure your husband is going to be absolutely thrilled!”

  It was my turn to grin now. Tyler was going to jump for joy!

  “Thank you!” I said happily and shook his hand.

  When I left the office I tried calling Tyler. He was no doubt on the airplane and his phone was off. I decided to wait until he called me to give him the news. Meanwhile I headed home to wait and maybe take a nap until Tyler called.

  Evening rolled around, and as patient as I was, I was beginning to get annoyed. With this joyous news I couldn’t wait any longer. I called Tyler again, and again it went to voicemail immediately. I growled in impatience and called Scott.

  “Have you heard from Ty yet?” I asked without preamble.

  “I have not. He hasn’t called?” he asked skeptically. “He should have been there hours ago.”

  “That was my thought,” I said with a sigh. “He was supposed to call me when he landed. I guess his phone died or something. He never listens to me when I tell him to charge it every night.”

  Scott laughed and said, “The kid was never apt to listen to reason.”

  I laughed too now until a knock sounded on the door.

  “Hold on just a second,” I told Scott. “Girl Scouts at the door.”

  He chuckled again and I moved the phone speaker away from my mouth as I opened the door. Instead of Girl Scouts, there were police officers at the door.

  “May I help you officers?” I asked, and Scott echoed back ‘officers?’

  “Are you Mrs. Samantha Harrison, Tyler Harrison’s wife?”

  I nodded, an uneasy feeling sinking into my stomach.

  “I am. Is something the matter? Is Tyler ok?”

  “May we come in?” the taller one asked.

  I nodded and they stepped inside, closing the door behind them.

>   The officers looked at each other, strangling the hats in their hands.

  The shorter one swallowed noticeably before looking in my eyes, saying, “Tyler has been in an accident.”

  “An accident?” I whispered.

  I heard the line on the phone go dead, but it was an absent thought compared to this news.

  “The plane,” the officer went on. “They hit an electrical storm over the Amazon. The plane went down in a river in Western Brazil, near the Javari Valley. The wreck has been recovered, but there were no survivors. I’m so sorry Ma’am.”

  Shock didn’t cover it. My brain completely shut down. Their words were impossible to process. I dropped to my knees and sobbed, clutching my phone to my chest as if it were Tyler himself.

  The officers attempted to grab my arms, murmuring condolences while trying to move me, but I refused, planting myself in the entry.

  I wasn’t sure how long it was before the door pounded open.

  “What’s going on?” I heard Scott’s voice demand. “My son has been in an accident?”

  The officers explained again and a long silence followed the delivery.

  Arms went around me gently, and I smelled the soft and masculine scent of Scott.

  I collapsed in his arms as he said angrily, “When will his body be brought back?”

  “I’m sorry, but Mr. Harrison’s body was one of a few that were not found among the wreckage.”

  “How can you say he’s dead and the body not be among the wreckage?” Scott demanded. “He could be alive out there right now! You should be looking for him, not scaring his wife to death!”

  “I’m sorry Sir, but the officials who cleared the site said that there was no way a survivor could have got up and wandered away. The official statement is that nature has taken the bodies. There are 4 in total missing from the craft.”

  “Until I have a body I will not believe my son is dead...” Scott said with vehemence.

  “I’m sorry Sir,” one said, then another silence.

  “Leave,” was all Scott said before the officers expressed their condolences, leaving a number of who to contact about the incident.

  “I’m going to find him,” Scott whispered in my ear. “I have to find him...”

  For the next week we lived in a state of shock. Scott was constantly on the phone with Brazilian officials, demanding and begging for a search party for Tyler. After talking to everyone, being shut down over and over, being told that there was no way Tyler had survived, and even if he HAD somehow survived he was dead by now in the Amazon rainforest.

  Eventually Scott and I had to look at each other and accept that he was gone, and that we’d get no closure. There was no body, there was no goodbye, there was no Tyler anymore.

  I refused to leave my bed, refused to face the world without him. We’d promised to be together forever, to be there for each other. To love and cherish, to grow old together. I would get none of that. I didn’t want to live anymore. But I was pregnant with this baby, HIS baby. This baby who was part of him.

  I had to live for this baby.

  Scott and I planned the funeral. We sat soberly in the funeral home’s office as we picked a casket, leased a room to hold a funeral, and bought a plot in a cemetery, buying a plot on either side for the two of us when the time came.

  As we sat in the car in the driveway to the huge, empty house, I didn’t move to get out. Scott sat silently behind the steering wheel and I clutched my purse in my hands.

  Eventually I managed to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth before saying, “Tyler never knew. I never got to tell him what the doctor found...”

  “What the doctor found?” Scott whispered, sounding worried. “What do you mean? What did the doctor find?”

  I sighed and pulled a loose string on the shoulder strap of my purse.

  “I went in to see the doctor that day. I’d been having breast pain, nausea, headaches. All the things my mom had before she was diagnosed with breast cancer.”

  Scott’s face paled to a sickly shade, his eyes looking hollow.

  “It was nothing to worry about,” I said quickly, not wanting to worry him any more than he already was. “He found a baby. I’m going to have a baby. Tyler’s baby...”

  “A baby?” Scott croaked, his gaze settling on my stomach being covered by my bag.

  “It turned out to be pregnancy symptoms. I’m supposed to have my first ultrasound tomorrow. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to do this without him...”

  Tears poured down my cheeks again, for the millionth time just today. Scott managed to lean over in the car and pull me in for an embrace.

  “You can’t stay here,” he whispered in my ear. “Come back to the hotel. Stay in the suite, at least until the baby comes.”

  I just nodded, being unable to face the fresh memories we’d shared in that house.

  Scott helped me pack a bag of clothes and necessities before driving us both back to the hotel. We rode up the elevator together, then settled on the couch in the darkened apartment, holding each other.

  No other person could provide me comfort. Dad had come by over and over again to see me, to try to help me and comfort me, but I wanted no one else. Scott understood my pain. Scott loved him as much as I did. Scott shared that piece of our hearts that was ripped out the moment Tyler’s plane went down.

  Eventually it was time to try to sleep. I went down the hall and stood at the door to our old room. To the room I shared with Tyler. I couldn’t even step foot in the room, it was haunted so, by all the memories. I turned away, sobbing and running to Scott’s room. He was sitting on his bed, bare back against the headboard and knees clutched to his chest.

  His arms opened to me and I said, “I can’t sleep in there. Please let me stay with you...”

  He nodded and caught me when I crashed into him, and together we released, sobbed, cried, screamed and yelled.

  Together we mourned.

  Chapter 18

  The funeral was held on a Saturday, 3 weeks after the crash. There was no hope left. There was no praying to be had that he was still alive, or wishes that he’d just somehow come back to me. My husband was dead. The father of my baby, dead.

  Of course, it didn’t rain, it didn't storm. The world didn’t end the way mine had. The sun was still up, shining brightly in the early spring weather. It was hot already at 10 AM. Scott, Connor, (who’d flown in for the funeral and to comfort me) and a few other men all held the empty casket as they marched through the cemetery.

  It was rather symbolic, the empty casket. It symbolized the place left empty no that he was gone. The place that could never be filled again. A priest stood over the casket, saying things like ‘dust to dust, ash to ash,’ but I wasn’t listening. I was just thinking of how numb I felt. How all the feelings I’d had, left me with no feelings at all. I couldn’t cry anymore, I couldn’t mourn. I couldn’t beg and wish and pray that this was a horrible nightmare. It was my life now.

  My eyes caught sight of Scott in the chair next to me. His green eyes were filled with tears and his hands were clenched into tight fists. I laid one hand on top of his in comfort and he clung to it, the tears dropping down his cheeks silently. The aching, brutal pain radiating from him. I dropped my head to his shoulder, trying to absorb the pain. Trying to feel something, anything. His hand squeezed mine. At least I had Scott by my side…

  After the funeral Scott and I fled back to the hotel. Back to the suite. The last thing we wanted were visitors. People saying how sorry they were that Tyler was gone. How they are here for us, if we need someone to talk to. People who didn’t understand the pain and devastation that had been left in Tyler’s wake.

  We turned the TV on as we sat there, hoping to distract us from the day. Scott had brought the half eaten pizza out of the fridge and told me to eat before sitting next to me, pulling me into his arms. I nibbled on the cold slice of pepperoni with extra cheese while we sat there. Scott insisted I eat, though in reality th
at was really the last thing I wanted to do. But I needed this baby, and I couldn’t hurt it by not eating, so I took bites here and there because I knew I needed to. Scott had force fed me the first few days after he found out about the baby. He’d taken me to the appointment, where the doctor promptly mistook him for the father. Neither of us had it in us to correct him.

  “Scott,” I ventured quietly, and his hand on my arm stopped stroking as he turned to me.

  “What’s the matter Sam?”

  I gave him a wry look and he gave the tiniest wisp of a smile.

  “Other than everything?” I asked back.

  “Other than everything,” he agreed and I paused for a long moment, trying to understand what I was feeling.

  “Scott, I feel so numb… Do you feel numb?”

  “I’ve felt numb since Jolani died,” he commented quietly.

  “Who is Jolani?”

  “My wife, my first wife,” he explained. “The first woman I ever loved.”

  I absorbed those words, knowing he felt my pain. He’d lost his wife suddenly as well. But he’d also lost his baby.

  “The first woman you ever loved? Was there another?” I asked instead of talking about the pain of loss.

  “One other,” he admitted and drew his hand down my hair.

  “Will you tell me?” I begged. “Please, tell me something good, something wonderful.”

  “It’s not good or wonderful,” his voice growled. “It’s sick and wrong.”

  “What?” I asked, withdrawing from him. “Whatever you are Scott, I know you, and though you have many faults, you are not sick, and love is never wrong.”

  “This one was,” he said firmly. “It is.”

  I just sighed and disagreed. “Whoever it is, you need to tell her. You can never be happy until you know how she feels.”

  It was silent for another long time.

  “How do you live life numb, Scott? How am I supposed to raise a baby feeling like every day is agonizing to wake up to?”

  “You find reasons,” he said with a shrug. “Tyler was my reason for a long, long time. Now, you are my reason.”