Authors: Marie Rochelle
Hayward
listened to
True’s
soft breathing and his mind wandered to the things he was still keeping from her.
I’m not as bad as Dalton
. Rising from the couch, he carried her into her bedroom, settling her on the bed. “Kitten, I promise that your love won’t be misplaced in me.” Without saying the words, tonight, True had declared that she was in love with him.
* * * *
Early the next morning,
Hayward
strolled into
Clinton
’s kitchen. The silence was deafening. It was almost enough to make him go straight back to the hotel. “Morning,” he said, addressing his brother and father, who were seated at the table. His greeting fell on deaf ears.
He glanced at his father pushing scrambled eggs around on his plate. “Dad, have your changed you mind? Are you going with us to the funeral home?”
Lance glanced up with a blank expression. “No, I haven’t changed my mind. I can’t go to pick out her coffin. It’s going to be hard enough putting her in the ground tomorrow!” He jumped up and stormed from the room.
Hayward
grimaced.
“Whew, I didn’t mean to upset him.”
“He has been like that most of the morning,”
Clinton
whispered.
Walking over to the display of food by the wall,
Hayward
piled fluffy scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, homemade buttermilk biscuits brushed with sweet butter and two sausages on his plate coming back over to the table, he sat across from
Clinton
. “Are you ready for the day?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
Clinton
replied taking a sip of his orange juice. “Life’s going to be so different without mom in it.”
“Yeah, I know,”
Hayward
agreed, biting into a biscuit. Sweet warm butter poured into his mouth, he remembered his conversation with True last night. “Last night I found out why
True
is so afraid of a commitment.”
Clinton
shoved his plate to the side and looked at him. “Don’t keep me hanging. Tell me what you found out.”
He took a sip of his coffee and retold the whole story about
True’s
past, involving
Dalton
. “For the past couple of years, she had been blaming herself for falling in love with
Dalton
and getting fired.”
“Hell, she never got a chance to defend herself. No wonder she doesn’t want a commitment. How did she take it when you told her about your past and the private investigator?”
Hayward
got up from the table and tossed the rest of his food away in the trashcan. “Well….we didn’t get that far last night.”
“I know you told her.”
Clinton
voiced. “She really opened up to you last night.”
“I’ll tell her as soon as we get back to
Hayward
promised.” We better leave. We’re already ten minutes late and I know Mr. Banks is waiting for us at the funeral home.”
* * * *
Walking into sitting room,
True
picked up the cordless phone and punched in the long distance number. She settled on the couch and relaxed against the plush olive cushion.
“Martin & Clive,” the receptionist muttered.
“Yes, may I speak to Stephen Turner?” She asked.
“Just one moment ma’am.” The receptionist put her on hold and then transferred the call.
“Stephen Turner here, how may I help you?”
“Are you too busy to talk?”
“True, how is everything going? I haven’t heard from you in almost a month. I was getting worried.”
“A woman in love usually spends time with her boyfriend.”
“When did
Hayward
go from a friendly neighbor to boyfriend?” Stephen questioned.
“I don’t know…. I think it just kind of happened,” she sighed.
“Are you sure he’s the right one for you?
Do you know everything about him? I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Stephen, I know he is the one I have been waiting for,” she replied. “He’s everything
Dalton
wasn’t.”
“I believe you,” Stephen replied. “Are you coming for my birthday party?”
“I don’t know Stephen.” Honestly, she didn’t want to talk about his party. She had really called him for another reason. “There is something else I wanted to talk to you about,” she admitted softly.
“What is it?”
“I’ve been getting these strange phone calls. I got one last week. The man told me I better watch out.”
“Did you go to the police?” Stephen questioned.
“No,” She admitted. “I thought it might be someone playing a joke. I don’t want to get the police involved for a crank call.”
“Honey, what if it wasn’t a crank phone call. What if this jerk is serious? You need to go to the police as soon as you get back home.”
“If anything else happens I’ll think about going to the police.” True promised. “It’s getting late, so I’d better go. I’ll call you again in a couple of weeks.”
She hung up the phone before Stephen could lecture her. Sometimes he acted more like an overprotective big brother, than her best friend.
* * * *
As True replaced the phone back in its cradle, she heard the hotel room door open behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked at
Hayward
and concern and love engulfed her. The gray suit he wore this morning was badly wrinkled, his striped tie dangled from around his neck and the crisp white buttoned down shirt hung free over his pants. A lock of black hair had fallen across his forehead adding to his rumpled appearance.
She walked toward him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “How did it go? Did your father change his mind and go with you?”
“No, he didn’t want to be involved with the arrangements.”
Hayward
whispered taking her back over to the couch. “I think he’s preparing himself for tomorrow.”
“Honey, I wish I could do more for you.”
“
Clinton
suggested Dad move in with him, but he refused and we didn’t force the issue,” he said.
“It’s wonderful that your father has you and Clinton,” True said whilst, running her fingers through his hair. “He needs a lot of support right now from the both of you.”
Hayward
couldn’t handle
True’s
warmth and compassion. He hadn’t earned it. Would she stand by him right now if she knew the truth? Could she overlook his invasion into her past and forgive his lies? No, he couldn’t accept her acts of loving-kindness.
Brushing her hand off him he jumped up off the couch and moved away from her. “I think we should leave after the funeral tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?” She asked shocked. “Don’t you want to say longer with your father and brother?”
“No, I think leaving tomorrow would be best.”
Hayward
replied. “Clint is going back to work the day after tomorrow anyway. Besides, Mom wouldn’t want us mourning her death. She always wanted her life to be a celebration.”
“Whatever you feel is best for you.”
“I’m so glad you came here with me.”
Hayward
turned away from the window catching her eyes from across the room. “I don’t know if I would be this calm without you.”
“I’m glad I could be here for you
Hayward
,” True whispered, staring back at him.
“I think it would be best if we go to bed,” she said getting up from the couch. “We have to be at the grave site early.”
“Sounds good to me,”
Hayward
agreed turning away from the window, he headed toward the bedroom. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
* * * *
Later that night a noise from Hayward’s room woke True, sitting up in the bed she became instantly, fully awake of her surroundings. Tossing the covers off her body, she raced to his room. She knocked lightly on his bedroom door, and waited for an answer, but none came.
“I hope he’s okay.”
Opening the door she walked over to the large russet bed and laid her hand on his shoulder;
Hayward
rose up to look at her with tears sliding down the side of his face.
“True, my mother is dead. What am I going to do? I was so close to her,”
Hayward
asked a faint tremor in his voice.
“Oh, sweetie,” True whispered. She tossed back the sheet and climbed into the bed, pulling
Hayward
into her arms. She ran her fingers through his hair. “I know the pain is overwhelming, but I promise, it will get better.”
Dark blue eye, filled with tears, stared at her. “Are you sure?”
She remembered the gut-wrenching pain she felt as a child when her parents died. She never thought the deep burning ache would go away, but it did after awhile, the pain eased. “Take my word for it. It might take a while, but it will get better.”
He wrapped his arms tighter around her body. “Will you stay until I fall asleep?”
True didn’t miss the slight hesitancy in
Hayward
’s deep voice. “I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead. She placed her head in the middle of his chest, and settled down for a good night’s sleep.
* * * *
Hayward
woke up early the next morning, with a ray of sunlight peeking through a crack in the curtains. A soft warm feminine body curled up next to his.
Tenderly.
he
brushed a piece of hair away for the corner of
True’s
eye. He had never known a woman quite like her. She didn’t judge or try to force her opinions on him. She listened with a patience that the women in his past lacked. She almost made him want to take another shot at having a family. As much as he wanted to stay in bed with her, he couldn’t.
Reaching over, he placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a small shake. “Wake up, kitten we have to get ready.”
Her eyes popped opened and she looked up at him. “What time is it?”
“It’s
Pulling back the covers,
True
bolted out of the bed right behind him, “I’ll be ready to leave when you are.” She yelled as she rushed back to her room.
* * * *
Three hours later,
True
stood next to
Hayward
and held his hand, as he watched the most important woman in his life be laid to rest. From under her lashes, she stole a quick glimpse at Lance Campbell. She had never laid eyes on such a beaten man. He looked as though he wanted to be buried in the ground right next to his wife.
I wonder
,
will I ever care for someone that deeply?
After the service, she rode with
Hayward
to
Clinton
’s house, so that everyone could give their condolences to the family one last time. She stood beside
Hayward
, while close friends of the family spoke about his mother. After a while the aroma of coffee, baked foods and rich desserts filled the air, as more neighbors brought food over to the house. Looking around the room, the scene mimicked
her own
parents’ memorial service. The room began to close in on her, as memories of that horrid day came rushing back. She tried to take deep relaxing breaths, but it didn’t work.
Placing her hand on
Hayward
’s arm, she whispered. “I’m going to the kitchen for a glass of water. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“I’m going to check on Dad in the study. I’ll be in there when you’re finished.”
Hayward
replied.
“Okay.” True headed into the kitchen. As she walked away, a group of people by the front door stopped and stared at her, but she didn’t respond.
The heavy wood kitchen door swung shut behind her. Walking over to the cabinet, True reached for a tall green tinted glass and filled it with water. Taking a drink of water, she closed her eyes and tried to soothe some of the pounding at the side of her head.
Now wasn’t the time to get swept back up in the past, she wasn’t eight years old. The pressure in her head, lessen, as she heard the kitchen door burst open.
“Are you really his girlfriend?” A female voice hissed at her.
Taken back by the woman’s harsh tone, True spun around and found a tall, slim woman with dark hair and gray eyes glaring at her. “Am I whose girlfriend?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.” The woman snapped inching closer. “You know I’m talking about
Hayward
.”