Letters from Becca: A Contemporary Romance Fiction Novel (14 page)

Marissa moved back to her drink.  She leaned on the counter, staring into the glass without partaking of it.  “She puts up a good front,” she began.  She sighed heavily and shook her head.  “But honestly, I don’t know how she’s going to make it through this one.”  She swirled the cool, honey liquid in her glass.

John stepped away from the counter, popped her with the towel and then tossed it at her as he walked by.  “Be right back,” he said, as he turned the corner and disappeared.

Marissa watched him turn down the hallway before she stood up straight and held her drink up in the air.  “To Becca,” she said softly; “for strength and for courage.”  She slowly sipped her drink again, then set it down, feeling completely numb.

John stood just outside the doorway to the boys’ room, eavesdropping on their nighttime routine, knowing there was nothing routine about tonight.  Nothing would ever be the same again for this family.  There would be new routines, new rituals, and new memories—all without David.  John leaned against the doorjamb and closed his eyes.

“Mommy,” Johnny asked.  “Is Daddy an angel now?”

Becca smiled down at her middle son.  “Yes, honey.  He is.”

“Do you think he has wings?”

“Do you think he’d want wings, honey?” she replied with a question.

Johnny thought for a moment; then looked into her eyes with naïve excitement.  “Yeah.  Great big ones.  White ones with lots of feathers.”

“Like Pegasus,” D.R. added from his bed.

“Daddy would like that,” Becca said softly.

“Will Daddy miss us in heaven?” Johnny asked.

John closed his eyes, his hands against the doorframe, as if it drew him nearer to her.  To them.

Becca bit her lips as they began to tremble.  “Yes, sweetie.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead.  “He’ll miss us so much.”  She caressed his soft face with her hand, her nose to his.

“As much as we’ll miss him?” he asked.

Becca rubbed her nose against his.  “Absolutely.”

“I really miss Daddy,” he said sadly.

“Me, too, sweetie,” she said, tucking him in tighter.  “Now, close your eyes and get some sleep, okay?”

Johnny nodded and closed his eyes, nuzzling deeper into his pillow.  Becca kissed him on the forehead, stood up and walked to William’s bed.  He snored softly and innocently, hugging his stuffed rabbit to his chest.  She kissed him lightly on the forehead and then smiled sadly.  She turned, walking directly to D.R.’s bed.  She sat beside him and brushed his hair with her hand.  “I love you so much, sweetie,” she said.  “Thank you for being so brave and strong today,” she added, looking down at him.  D.R. nodded as he looked up at her.

“I love you, Mommy.”

Becca fought the tears as she leaned over and kissed his forehead.  As she stood to walk away, D.R. wiped a tear from his eye.  He watched her as she walked to the door.

John turned away and walked back to the kitchen.

“Mommy,” D.R. called after her.

Becca turned and saw he was crying.  Her heart crumbled as she walked to his bedside and crawled into bed beside him.  D.R. moved over to let her lie down.  They lay side by side on his pillow facing each other.  Tears streamed from both their eyes as they looked at one another.  “We’re going to be okay,” she promised him, petting his cheek.  “We are.  I promise,” she smiled sadly, wrapping her arm around him and pulling him closer.  “I promise,” she whispered to his forehead as she held him.  She closed her eyes, trying hard to be strong for her son.  “I promise,” she said again, before they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

John walked back into the kitchen, his hands in his pockets.  There was music playing in the kitchen from the countertop radio next to the toaster.  King Floyd was singing his heart out, and Marissa was spinning, eyes closed before returning to wiping down the counter.  His smile grew as he leaned against the doorframe.  He watched her hips move with the rhythm as she sashayed the full length of the counter.  She turned and twisted, her arms raised, as she danced slowly in a circle.  He shook his head and drew in a deep breath.  God, she was beautiful.

On her last turn, she opened her eyes and saw John leaning against the wall.  His smile grew.  She continued to dance and slowly danced toward him, motioning her finger for him to come to her.  When he didn’t, she danced to him and took his hand.  He resisted for only a moment, but Marissa didn’t give up easily, pulling him until he allowed her to maneuver him into the kitchen. 
“Groove me, baby, oh, come on, make me feel good inside,”
she mouthed with the music.  She took his hands as he began to move in perfect time with her to the music.

“There you go,” she said, smiling.  He allowed his body to relax and move in sync with hers.  She nodded an approving smile.  He closed his eyes and rolled his body with the music, holding his arms up as she had moments before.  He rolled his hips wide as he turned and landed back in her hands.  He took her hand as she moved seductively before him.  Their fingers intertwined as they pushed and pulled against each other, moving around the kitchen.  The song faded to Van Morrison crooning “Crazy Love.” Instead of letting go, he pulled her to him, holding her tightly as their bodies pressed together.  He purposefully slid her arm behind him.

Marissa rested her head on his shoulder.  Their arms were wrapped around each other as they slowly moved to the music.  It felt so right in his arms that she wanted the song to never end, the moment to never end.  She closed her eyes, feeling lost in the music.  His hand slowly caressed her back as the other moved to her head and brushed her long dark hair.  It felt like old times.  They had made such beautiful music together in and out of the bedroom.  Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, or maybe it was loneliness, or maybe just the booze.  How could she ever have let him go?

They slowly parted as he took her hand in his and spun her around the kitchen.  He pushed her away, spinning her, pulling her close again, and wrapping himself around her.  He twirled her in his arms lifting her feet from the ground.  She laid her head back and laughed.  He slowed, though the music didn’t.  They parted again, and suddenly he was looking down at her.  He dipped her backward, and slowly pulled her back up, his hand rediscovering her neck and then her face.  She slowly raised her head up.  John leaned in, accepting the invitation and began kissing her neck.  He lightly brushed her face with his fingers.  Her mind begged him not to stop.  As she leaned forward, he met her motion, his warm breath on her cheek.  He cradled her head gently, and suddenly he was kissing her, lightly, sweetly.  They stopped moving, and his hands moved to her face, holding her as he kissed her again.

John opened his eyes as he pressed his forehead to hers.  He smiled, feeling a little ashamed.  “Sorry,” he said.

Marissa wiped her lips as she stepped back.  “It’s okay,” she said, looking down.  “We’ll blame it on the booze.” She looked back up into his dark eyes.  She saw something out of the corner of her eye and turned.  John matched her motion.

Becca was standing there watching them.  They didn’t know how long she’d been there, but it was obvious that they were all taken by surprise.  “I think I’m going to take a shower,” Becca said meekly, before turning and disappearing down the hallway.

John’s eyes followed Becca while Marissa turned back to the empty dish rack.  “Just like a man to conveniently reappear when all the dishes are put away,” she added coyly.

John held up his hands.  “I helped,” he said in his defense.

Marissa popped him with the towel.

John walked back to the glasses on the counter and poured himself another shot.  Marissa held up her empty glass again.  He raised his eyebrows.  “I don’t remember you ever drinking anything harder than wine.”

“I don’t,” she replied as she shook her glass.  When he didn’t pour it, she tipped the bottle in his hand to pour some into her glass.  Marissa added more ginger ale before going to the freezer and taking two oval ice cubes from the ice bin and dropping them into her glass.  She rolled the liquid around before taking a long sip.

“If that’s the case, you definitely shouldn’t drink so much.  This is the hard stuff,” he argued.

She stopped and gave him a sharp glance.  “You haven’t been here.  I’ve earned this!” she insisted, downing more of her drink.  Marissa walked over to him, pressing close to him and taking the bottle from his hand and pouring herself a half glass.  She tried to drink it straight but made a face.

John took the glass from her hand.  “You’re through.”

Marissa furrowed her brow angrily, but then when she looked into his eyes, her demeanor softened.  Her hand went to his cheek again.

“You staying here tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she sighed.  “She fought me on it.  Said she’d be fine.  But I’m staying, just in case.  If nothing else, to help with the boys.  You?”

“I’m booked at the Holiday Inn,” he said.

“How long are you staying?” she asked, taking his tie into her hands and adjusting it as she spoke.

“However long I need to,” he replied.

Marissa buttoned his top button, her head tilting as she finished dressing him.  “This must be tough for you, losing David,” she said, looking up at him as he looked over her shoulder.  “Seeing Becca like this.”

John looked down into her eyes without lowering his head.  He saw a hint of envy there.  She drew in a deep breath, then turned and picked up her glass.  John took her hand before she could raise the glass to her lips.  “This won’t help.”

Marissa moved from his grasp with her glass, her eyes defiantly on his as she slowly downed the rest.  “It can’t hurt,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.  She carried her glass to the sink and set it down inside.  She turned and leaned back against the counter.  She shook her head.  “Why do you have to still be so damned attractive?”

John slowly walked to her, glass in hand.  He tried to reach around her, but her arms blocked him on both sides and she didn’t make any effort to move.  He leaned slowly down toward her, his breath brushing her cheek.  He reached through her arm and set his glass in the sink beside hers.

Marissa leaned her head against his chest.  “So, maybe you could reconsider and stay here tonight…with me,” she added, almost in a whisper, before looking up into his eyes.  “For old time’s sake?”

John drew in a deep breath.

“Two old friends,” she continued, brushing his lips with her finger, “comforting each other.”  Her eyes pleaded with his.  “What do you say?”

“Tempting… Very tempting,” he said reluctantly, before stepping back.  “I’m flattered, really.  But you know I can’t.”

Marissa sighed as she stepped from his grasp.  “It’s okay,” she said defeated.  “Doesn’t hurt a girl to try.”  She stopped at the counter, feeling a little dizzy.

John stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“I really didn’t expect you to sleep with me,” she reasoned.  “I just didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

John squeezed her tighter.  He could feel her sobbing softly.  He turned her in his arms.  “It’s going to be okay, really,” he promised, lifting her chin with his finger.  He stared into her beautiful brown eyes; then, brushed his thumb across her lips once, then twice.  Slowly, he leaned in and kissed her again.

Both of them turned suddenly, when they heard a loud noise.  They looked back at each other, and Marissa shrugged.  “Becca?” she called softly down the hall.  When she didn’t get a response, she began walking down the dark hallway toward Becca’s room, with John only a few steps behind her.  “Becca?” Marissa said in a loud whisper, as to not wake the boys.  The bedroom door was ajar, so she slowly pushed it open.  The door squeaked noisily as she pushed it.  “Becca?” she called again.  A light from the bathroom door shone into the dark bedroom, cutting the room almost in half.  Marissa turned to John, and he nodded and motioned with his head for her to continue.  “Becca?  You okay?” she asked as she approached the door.  Slowly, she pushed it open and stepped inside.

“Becca!” she exclaimed, seeing her friend on the floor, slumped against the wall.  Marissa rushed to her side, as John hurriedly followed to the doorway.

Becca lay against the wall, sobbing, her blouse unbuttoned, and mascara tracing the trail of tears as they flowed down her cheeks.  She looked up at Marissa, who knelt beside her.  She slowly raised her hand to Marissa’s cheek and brushed it.  She spoke, in almost a whisper.  Marissa couldn’t hear her, so she leaned in closer.  “I can’t do this,” she sobbed softly.

Marissa smiled sadly.  “Oh, honey,” she said, turning to John for assistance.

John stepped into the bathroom and knelt by Becca’s side as well.

Becca lifted her hands to both their cheeks and gently cradled them.  “My dear, dear friends,” she said as she looked back and forth between them.  “I love you both so much,” she smiled weakly.  “I do.  You know that, right?”

Marissa glanced at John then back at Becca.  “Honey, did you take something?”

Becca smiled and picked up a bottle of tranquilizers beside her on the tiled floor that her doctor had prescribed after David’s death.

Marissa took the bottle from her hand.  “How many did you take?” she asked firmly.

Becca tilted her head and looked at her as if confused.

John took her hand and felt her pulse.

Becca looked at him quizzically.  Then she took his face in her hands.  “I love you, John.  You know that, right?” she smiled, searching his eyes.

Marissa stood and poured out the pills on the counter and counted them, then looked at the bottle.  She dropped her head and sighed.

John nodded and lowered his head to Becca’s.

Becca leaned her head against the wall.  “I tried to be strong.  For the boys.  I did.  I tried,” she said, trying to convince him and then she turned to Marissa.

Marissa knelt by her again.  “She only took one.  Must be the booze.”