Chapter 22 River #2
They’d watched me chase after him on prom night, and then Frankie Dowd’s dad had been called to the scene of the accident. He’d given Frankie all the details, making sure to note how “distraught” Holden had been over me.
“Crying and puking, he was so scared,” Frankie said, snickering with some friends as I passed by that day at school. “Tsk tsk.” He shook his head at me. “You’re so mean to make your boyfriend worry like that, Whitmore.”
“Shut up, Frankie!” Violet McNamara shouted as she fell in step beside me, linking her arm in mine. “He’s an asshole. Ignore him.”
Violet had been the only person to visit me while I was in the hospital, despite her own pending heartbreak. Miller Stratton’s record deal was moving fast, and they wanted him in the studio recording. Their separation was days away too.
She looked up at me with her dark blue eyes. “How are you?”
“Since the last time you asked?” I said, smiling fondly.
“I’m going to be a doctor. I need to get my practice in.”
“I’m good. Any word on Holden?”
“Since the last time you asked?” she countered gently. “He hasn’t been at school, and he hasn’t been hanging with Miller or Ronan at the shack. Not since the day after the accident.”
“The shack?”
“It’s this beach hangout the guys found. We—Shiloh and I—sometimes hang out with them there.”
Holden never told me about it. Never took me, to protect my privacy.
We passed another cluster of whispering students who were doing a very bad job of hiding the fact that they were talking about me.
“Ignore them too,” Violet said. “Though it’s not every day the big, hunky quarterback of the football team comes out as gay. Half the school is in shock. The other half thinks you’re even sexier than you were before.”
“No…”
“I only speak the truth.”
Harris Reed from calculus class approached, his violin case banging at his thigh. “Hey, Violet. Hey, River.”
“Told you,” Violet murmured out of the corner of her mouth.
I grinned. “Hey, Harris. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to let you know that I heard about your accident. I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
His eyes went to my arm in its sling. “No more football?”
“Nope, but for different reasons.” I smiled. “It’s a long story, but I’m good. Really good.”
And that was the truth. The rumors and curious glances bounced right off me. Including those of Chance and Donte and the guys. It stung a little that they pretended I didn’t exist, but if my coming out dissolved our friendship, then they weren’t important.
We chatted with Harris for a bit, and then I noticed Ronan Wentz leaning against a wall where he and the other Lost Boys hung out. He was alone that day and strode toward us when he saw me.
“Uh-oh,” I said to Violet, nodding my chin. “Think he’s coming to kick my ass?”
“He’s a big teddy bear once you get to know him.” Then her smile tilted. “Although I wouldn’t rule it out.”
I snorted a laugh, taking in the tattoos inked up Ronan’s arms.
“Hey,” Ronan said with a nod at Violet. “I need to talk to Whitmore. Alone.”
“Sure.” Violet kissed my cheek. “See you soon, River. And tell your mom I’m thinking of her. Always.”
“I will,” I said gruffly, then turned to Ronan. “What’s happening?”
“It’s Holden.”
“I figured. What about him? Is he okay?”
“He’s a mess. He’d already be in Paris or fucking who-knows-where except he’s waiting on some cash. Then he’s gone.”
“Just like that? No saying goodbye?” I clenched my jaw to keep from showing how much it hurt.
“He told me he said goodbye to you at the hospital.”
“That doesn’t fucking count.”
Ronan leaned in closer. “Look. I know him. He needs…help. Or I don’t know what. He needs you.”
I swallowed hard. “I need him too. Just as much.”
“Show him.”
“How? He won’t talk to me. He won’t answer my calls, and my mom is sick. I can’t be camping out on Holden’s goddamn porch for hours.” I ran my hand through my hair, my voice grating with frustration. “I want to do whatever he needs but…fuck. My life’s about to have a bomb dropped on it.”
Ronan rubbed his stubbled cheek, thinking. “There’s a parking lot near the Cliffs. Not much to it. A utility shed at the west end. Go there today, four o’clock, and keep out of sight.”
“Dude, I don’t have time for some cloak-and-dagger bullshit—”
“Do you want to see him or not?” Ronan demanded. “Be there. I’ll handle the rest.”
***
The hours crawled toward the last bell. There were six more days of school, but I was done. No chance I was going to spend my time in classes that didn’t matter anymore instead of with Mom.
Her parents had died when she was little, but family was trickling in from out of town—aunts and uncles and cousins. They came in and out of the house—grocery shopping, doing the cooking and cleaning, or just sitting and visiting.
When I arrived home that day, only Amelia and Dad were with Mom while Dazia hovered over everyone.
The master bedroom had become the center of the house, all things drawn to it—my books, Amelia’s dolls, Dad’s newspapers he still insisted on reading.
Mom was the sun with the rest of us revolving around her as long as we could before she burned out.
Her nightstand table was littered with meds and tissues.
A humidifier churned quietly in the corner, and her oxygen tank sat by her bed, feeding a nasal cannula.
Her doctor said she could stay at home so long as she was comfortable.
Hospice nurses came in shifts—that was new since I’d been in the hospital.
But Mom looked better that day. A little stronger. Talking and laughing more easily. And I knew there was no other time. No other day than this one.
“I have to step out for a bit,” I said, bending to kiss her cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
Since my truck was still in the shop from its roll down a hill, I drove my dad’s old pickup to the parking lot Ronan had told me about. I parked behind the utility shed and waited.
Right on time, James’s black sedan arrived, and Holden stepped out. My chest ached to see him. It had only been days, yet it felt like years since that night on the beach when I held him and kissed him and told him the truth. That he owned me, body and soul.
He looked like hell—messy hair and shadowed eyes—yet completely perfect at the same time, wearing jeans, a black turtleneck, and a long gray tweed coat.
“Wait here, would you?” I heard him say to James. “I won’t be long.”
“Of course, sir.”
As Holden started for a small path that led down to the beach, I stepped from around the shed.
“Hey.”
He stopped short. “Ronan, you fucker,” he muttered under his breath. His eyes searched me, jumping from injury to injury—the bandage on my temple, my left arm in a sling, my wrist in a cast. Pain washed over his features. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. I’m good, actually.”
“Your head?”
“They say I shouldn’t play football anymore. But it doesn’t matter. I meant what I said that night at the beach. I told my dad. I told him everything.”
“You told him about me?”
“I sure as hell did.”
“How’d he take it?” Holden forced a smile. “He didn’t book you a ticket to Alaska, did he?”
“No,” I said gruffly. “But I wish you’d been there. I wanted you by my side when I told him that I loved you.”
Holden winced and shook his head. “Christ, don’t say that, River.”
“Why? Because there was an accident? I know you think it was your fault—”
“Wasn’t it? You wouldn’t have been on that road if it hadn’t been for me.”
“I wouldn’t have a lot of what I have now if it weren’t for you. But I know you don’t believe me, and I don’t have time to stand here arguing with you about it. Come with me.”
“Where?”
“Just come.”
“River—”
I moved close to him, as close as I dared. “Do this for me. I know you want to take off and…disappear. Don’t. Not yet.”
Holden held my gaze, longing burning deep in his green eyes. “Okay.”
We drove back to my house, Holden following behind in the sedan. I waited for him in the driveway as he walked up slowly, glancing around.
“What are we doing?” he asked as I led him into my house.
I took his hand in mine. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
He stopped, pulled back. “River, no.”
“Please,” I said, tears blurring my vision. “Please.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he nodded.
We took the stairs up to the master bedroom. Holden gripped my hand tightly as I opened the door. Dazia was there with Mom. They both looked up as we came in, their eyes widening.
“Hey, Daz,” I said. “Where are Dad and Amelia?”
“Getting pizza for dinner. They needed a drive. Aaaand I just remembered I have to make a call.”
She smiled gently and went out. The two people I loved most in the world were finally in the same room.
“Hey, Mom, this is Holden Parish.”
She smiled, something like recognition lighting her eyes though she’d never seen him before. Her gaze went to our clasped hands, then back to us, and her smile widened.
“Hello, Holden. It is so very lovely to meet you. At long last.”
“You too, Mrs. Whitmore,” Holden said gruffly.
“Nancy, please.”
“Holden is my boyfriend,” I said. “We’ve been seeing each other since…well…”
“Homecoming?” Mom asked with a sly smile. She appraised the two of us and shook her head. “Gee, River,” she teased. “You couldn’t find someone the least bit handsome? Not even a little?”
Holden dropped his head, a laugh or a cry hitching in his throat.
I swallowed and held Holden’s hand tighter in mine. “You once asked me about my heart, Mom. How you wanted it to be beating and alive and full. Now it is. With him. And no matter what happens, I’ve been happy.” I looked to Holden. “I have.”
Holden shook his head at me, his eyes full.
The room was thick with love and pain, grief and hope.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Mom said gently.
I nudged Holden. “She’s talking to you.”
He blinked, surprised, and I hated how he’d gone so long without knowing the love of a mother that he couldn’t recognize it when he heard it.
She’ll love him too. Always.
Holden approached my mother, and she took his hand that had been in mine.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I haven’t done anything.” His voice was thick.
“You make my son happy. That’s a gift. The greatest gift I’ll ever receive.”
Holden shook his head, shoulders trembling.
“Oh, honey.”
Mom extended her thin arms to him, and to my shock, Holden bent and put his around her. She held him, and I saw her eyes close against his shoulder.
After a few moments, he stood up stiffly. “My apologies. I usually have more personality than this.” He wiped his eyes and smoothed his coat. “It was extraordinary to meet you, Nancy, but if you’ll excuse me…”
He strode out, shooting me a tear-filled look as he passed.
“He’s beautiful,” Mom said.
“He’s a handful,” I said. “But I love him. I wish I’d told you sooner.”
“You told me. That’s all that matters.” She held her arms to me, and I hugged her carefully, inhaling her, begging my cells to remember what this felt like. “I love you, River.”
“Love you, Mom.” Tears choked my throat and burned my eyes.
She took me by the shoulders, mindful of my injury. “Go. He’s waiting for you.”
“He might not stay. I’m losing both of you.”
“You aren’t losing me, honey. Please don’t forget that.” Then she smiled, so beautiful in her happiness. “And he’s not gone yet. There’s always hope.”