Ducking away from her boyfriend, Erin runs behind the tan leather sofa. Her stance is ready for action. Jay finds his window of opportunity and jumps on the cushions, bouncing over the backrest to chase after her. Her manic squeals trill as she looks for another solid structure to hide behind. Backing into the front door, Erin realizes their condo does not aid for games of this nature.
In a stroke of genius, she flashes Jay, momentarily distracting him. She sidesteps him, racing to the living room. Laughing in victory, Erin chooses a better angle to hide near the sofa. Jay is on her trail, dusting his hands and preparing his next tactical strategy. Licking her lips, Erin racks her hair back and secures the low ponytail with a scrunchie. She needs her hair away from her face, make her takedown an easier one. Holding her ground, Erin does not flinch when Jay bluffs as he surrounds the sofa. With the advantage of the front of the sofa on her side, she evades capture. Erin attempts to reach for him over the backrest, teasing him. Copying Jay's move, she jumps on the cushions preparing to launch towards him. She takes a tumble, her feet tripping over themselves.
"No," she squeaks, hurrying to pick herself up. The leather sofa causes her to slip as she gets her footing. Jay pities his victim for a second, just a second, giving her a chance to preserve her dignity before he strikes. Wrapping the sofa, Jay scoops Erin in his arms, squeezing her tight in his embrace.
"I caught you," he growls between her loud squeals morphing into laughter, Jay not releasing her from his grasp.
"My lucky catch of the day," he drawls. He tackles Erin on the sofa, his muscular body pinning her petite frame. Her sensuous shrieks, refusing to accept defeat, are the sounds emitting from his butterfly kisses on her neck. His lips touch every roll and bead of sweat. Each time he touches her skin, he learns her body over and over, only satisfied when their flesh becomes one. "I can't wait to feast on you," Jay hotly breathes in her ear. Her soft moan delights in the sweet turn of events of their innocent roughhousing.
Jay grins in the slope of her neck, pecking from her shoulder to her jawline. His large firm hands smooth up her waist and under her tank top. Erin's eyes flutter, her twinkling hazels darkening and relishing in his affection. Erin rasps out the conditions of first place's prize, "Winner decides what we do next."
"Another round," Jay seductively flirts, kissing the spot behind her earlobe. Humming in pleasure, his girlfriend worms beneath him to turn around on her back, deliciously sandwiched.
"We start from the opposite ends on the house … I need time to strategize better. Set up my traps," Erin smirks.
Jay cups her face, and his amorous gaze reddens her cheeks. Tenderly caressing the path of her rosy skin, he leans in and brushes his lips over her pursed lips. Erin attempts to nibble at him, but his steady strokes across her mouth make it impossible to find an opening. The tantalizing heavy petting of his soft, warm lips set her ablaze. When Jay Halstead initiates foreplay, she is not built to last. Her fingers tingle as he sucks the corner of her mouth, and his wet tongue sweeps through the curve of her closed lips. Erin grips the fabric of his shirt, the excitement erupting goosebumps up her arms. Threading his fingers in her short-length blonde strands, he releases the hair tie.
"Ready, set," Jay murmurs, connecting their lips in a fiery kiss. Sparks burst alive, firing up all the wires in her body. His touch is electric, striking the second they bind together. No other man has ever kissed her the way Jay kisses her. Erin lets out a groan, the pressure of his lips bruising and causing her to lose hold of his back. She moves to encircle her fingers around his neck when he pushes off her, patting her thigh. "Go," he chuckles, racing to his chosen corner of the condo.
Falling back onto the cushion, Erin shakes her head and licks her lips, releasing a chuckle of her own.
Chasing each other around the condo did result in Jay and Erin's final round on the sofa. Their pumping adrenaline built hot tension. The couple indulges in their intertwined bodies flushed together underneath their plush throw blanket. While Jay massages her scalp, Erin concentrates on the visible pimples on his pecs and shoulders. Jay laughs to himself, looping his arm around her hip. His girl is absolutely engrossed in her task of primping him, cutely tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. So long she picks and flicks and does not eat them, he will let her prime him how she pleases.
At home on a lazy Sunday with his dream girl, he dares to say there is no other place he would rather be. His whole world is literally in the palms of his hands. A restful day, long overdue, for the detectives is a rarity. Reveling in the quieter periods of their lives unleashes a softer side within Erin, him too. Lowering their defenses, they have grown exponentially and strengthened their commitment to one another. Jay finds Erin Lindsay to be one hell of a thorn in his side. A pain he allows to take over his nervous system. An ailment he requires no treatment for. Through all the growing pains of loving a woman with her family history, he has never felt more healthy, resilient, so prosperous. That love warranted Erin to reciprocate, taking the brutal hits of his nightmares and flashbacks, pricking her with a thorn. Always empathic, she helped him carry his load. An emotional capacity she puts much of her energy in, leaving none for herself. Just the same, it is one of the qualities he loves dearly about her. It gives him the confidence to share his past and shed the false security he hides behind.
Laying a kiss on her forehead, Jay inhales the scent of her hair. The intoxicating hints of vanilla and coconut lead him to speak words he only registers once she confesses the same vow.
"One day, I'll be your wife. I promise unwavering love to you, to our children, to our family. I am not my mother," Erin whispers thickly, her hazels illuminating the determination of her claim. She rubs her hand down the side of his face, lightly scratching his ear as she passes. Her gaze remains locked on his adoring expanse of blue. His eyes reveal the root of his soul, open and vulnerable, at her mercy, that her next statement comes as no surprise.
"Tell me about your mother, Jay."
Jay prepared to bury away the words he professed, blaming it on a post-coital haze. He planned to avoid bringing the memories of his mother to the surface. He used tickling Erin senseless, featherlike kisses down her body and dangling the temptation of a shower session as distractions. None were convincing enough to retract Erin from finally asking him about the lady of the Halstead household.
The condo fills in sounds of Erin's flurry of shrieks and titters, Jay hot on her tail. Running to their bedroom makes for an enticing sight.
They crash against their dresser, Jay's lips find her ear, sucking on it. "This chat calls for the cozy stuff," he husks irresistibly.
If she wants him to share stories about his mother, Jay will do it clothed. As bare as he is with Erin, from naked in bed to his darkest deeds in Afghanistan, he preferred not to expose all he treasured surrounding his mother unclad.
"Define your version of cozy," Erin's eyes linger, shining with mischief.
Jay yanks a drawer open, pulling by the knobs, pressing her impossibly closer. She grunts heavily, the drawer pinching her but feeling the ridges of his muscles rumble in laughter on her skin is soothing. Reaching in the drawer, Jay grabs two loose white tees and a fresh pair of bowers. Erin thumbs his waist, and her heated look entrances him. He grits his jaw as she walks him backward, blood arousing in his extremities, the clothes dropping from his hands.
"I also need bottoms for my shirt and fuzzy socks," Erin turns quickly to the dresser, grabbing her essentials.
"You don't want my tube socks," Jay inquires, dressing in his loungewear.
"No," Erin scoffs, "I hope you don't either."
"Nah, barefoot is more comfortable. Especially if I need to silence you, I'm free to wiggle them in your face."
"Jay… you do that, and there will be a lot of things you won't be able to wiggle," she slips on her shirt and black CK hipsters.
"Okay, Jay. You've pushed this off long enough," Erin sets her mug on the coffee table.
Her boyfriend immediately dashed for the kitchen once she reminded him of the discussion she requested. She laced her fingers in his bent on moseying to the sofa. But he drew her into his hold, tossing her on their bed. Straddling her, Jay peppered her with kisses. Her fit of giggles was enchanting and alluring. His mind bent on her arching her back and bucking her hips. She thwarted his advantages, adamant about him sharing the story and life of his mother.
To say he was nervous was an understatement. He had to mentally gear up for what would rise to the forefront uncovering his childhood. It was already taxing, the three brews of burnt coffee evidence to his increasing anxiety.
"Uh. I," he fumbles, falling silent. The steam from the mug wafts the fragrance of the black liquid in the air, transporting Jay to the beginning of a fond recollection. "She could never get her brew right. Her coffee grounds were dirt," he chuckles, reminiscing. "She simply put it, 'You boys play in the mud. It's only fair I get to play in a bit of my own'. My dad hated her wasting coffee. My mom swore you couldn't tell a good story without a kettle and a shot of Baileys," he glances to Erin, his bright blue eyes forming green as they glisten. "I guess I was following her lead."
Erin blushes out of embarrassment, chiding herself by her abrupt positioning on his ability to share. She should encourage him to go at his own pace. "Babe," her tone was full of emotion, staring at the image of her boyfriend stripped of his cocky outward appearance.
"Why don't cha go out and pick up some Baileys and Whisper Creek. I'll bring out my fiddle, and we can marinate to The Wild Rover. Have ourselves a real rager."
"Jay…"
"I don't know if I can do this, Erin. Talk about her," he chokes, digging his hand in his swept hair. "God, I miss her."
"You can. I'm here for it all. Whatever you need."
"I need you."
"You got me," Erin scoots off the sofa to collect their mugs and worms back in her gentle boyfriend's lap. He swiftly clutches her to his chest. Her shy smile softens his pained expression, and she passes him his mug. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she sips the rich, nutty drink.
Gulping down his first taste, Jay rests his cheek on top of her head. The hoarse cadence of his voice remedies to a kindhearted pitch. "Audra Bellamy Halstead," he smiles. "My first angel," he grins from above, hovering his lips lightly on her skin.
Flashing lights, periodic alarms, and repeated orders to attending staff was the chaotic scene playing out, much to the exhausted mother's dismay. Doctors and nurses rushed around her. Checking her vitals, they prepared her for the delivery of her second child. Their voices were muffled and carried through the room at a distance. Her mind elsewhere and was beckoning the little one in her belly to meet her. The child in her womb. The one she created, the one growing inside of her was different. With absolute certainty, she knew her baby was special.
Resting her hands on her belly, she rubs thoughtfully on the baby bump of forty weeks she brought to term. For her second pregnancy, she preferred to do it all as naturally as possible. No epidural. No gender reveal. The child she was birthing would have no preconceived notions. Even a name had yet to be selected. She decided once she held her newborn in her hands, their name would breathe from her lips. Of course, her husband voiced his thoughts on the matter. He harped on tradition and the importance of him having a say. During her first pregnancy, he was in control of everything. He expressed concern solely on the successful birth of his first son. She was not allowing the added pressure to put stress on her second pregnancy. That led to her decision to only have her parents by her side.
Her birth plan was on track. She was close to delivery. The active labor the second time around was easier than the first. It was a remarkable difference from the nerves she encountered with her firstborn. The saying that after the first, the rest are a breeze was ringing true. She pressed softly into her stomach, feeling the outline of the baby lowering in position. The beauty of her physical body and muscle memory to perform birth calms immensely. Her growing smile warmed her in a rejuvenescent glow, a reminder of the miracle of life. Audra Halstead glanced out to the large panel windows of her delivery suite, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly in puffs. Perched on the windowsill was an unmistakable blue jay. The beautiful bird whistled pleasantly, and Audra was instantly mesmerized by the visit. As quickly as the bird appeared, it flew away, leaving her with a semblance of peace in the choices she made.
"Is Mom ready to meet the baby," the doctor walked in. Audra turned to face them, looking more radiant than any other expecting mother they had seen today. She nodded, gazing at her parents when they squeezed her shoulders.
"Yes."
…
Wrapped in a hospital standard receiving cloth was the squealing cries of her newborn baby. Their tiny face scrunched up in continuous cries of the new surroundings exiting the comfort of her sac. She gently placed them on her chest, stroking their nose and caressing the thin hairs of their eyebrows. The new life in her arms left her hopelessly fascinated. Audra removed the blanket for much-needed skin-to-skin contact, the newborn settling on her chest.
"It's a boy!" Audra glanced over to her mother, startled by her outburst. She gazed back to her newborn, who was her second boy. She chuckled as the baby grunted, mellowing on her skin. It was remarkable the feeling that overcame her. Nothing topped the love innately developing for her son. She had no words to describe it. Her tears fell happily, enraptured by him.
"Jay Randel Halstead," she breathed tearfully, staring devotedly at every single new feature on her baby.
"Randel?" Erin grins jokingly, fluttering her lashes up at her boyfriend. Surprise on her face and unyielding excitement from finally learning his middle name.
"Ah-Ah," Jay lifts his foot in the air, darting it towards Erin's face. She winces in his arms, recoiling from his foot invasion. "No interruptions," Jay warns, tapping her nose with his finger. Erin silently agrees, animatedly zipping her mouth shut.
Her precious bundle was everything she could have pictured him to be. The newborn laid in her arms, occasionally opening his eyes, the fluorescent lights too bright. Jay. Her beautiful baby boy, he was hers. The air in the room shifted during his birth, conveying to her that change was arriving. She would grow to be stronger for it. Jay had faith in all the unknown and uncertainty, nothing predetermined, and he came out a healthy baby.
"Jay Randel Halstead slow down," Audra strained out of breath, chasing the wild-legged toddler. The sprouting toddler bounded about, parading around the house diaperless. His incessant giggles were a pontifical jeer in her attempt to dress him for communion.
"I got the child, dear," Patrick collected Jay, the baby's laughter louder from his dad capturing him. Returning to Audra, Pat placed Jay on the makeshift changing mat on the dining table. "The boy is giving you a run for your money, huh? Little one is fast."
Audra nodded amusingly to her husband. Jay was rambunctious, even more so than all the parenting books mentioned. He was double the amount of energy than the first. William, as his precursor, only spoke to how this one would turn out. The Halstead parents were in for a rude awakening and longer nights ahead. Her baby blue jay was bobbing and cheeping throughout the house. He was ready to explore what their home had to offer. She was ignoring all the signs of her son growing up. He was beginning to learn how to interact in the world. It was breaking her heart to see him venturing out of the nest, cradled in her arms. If only she could box him up and keep him her sweet baby boy forever.
With the bouncy toddler dressed, she set him back down on the ground. The parents started for the door, gathering the diaper bag, keys, and their eldest child hidden on the staircase.
"Mommy." Audra turned back around and watched Jay gesture for her to pick him up. Her heart melted instantly, molding itself back to shape at the sight of her son seeking his mother. She shrilled giddily, racing to put her child in her arms. Her brilliant boy knew she needed extra reassurance. His sparkling blue-green eyes shined innocently at her, unexposed to what the realities of the world will bring. She feathered a mass of kisses on his chunky cheeks. Jay exploded in joyful giggles, gripping his tiny hand on her sweater, holding steady and accepting her love unconditionally.
"I's want mommy." Her thirty-one-month-old babbled in her embrace, reading her mind.
"I always want you too, baby," she repeated, swallowing the lump in her throat.
Every day since he was attached to her hip, not straying too far away. He would grab her hand for safety and look to her for guidance. Each moment had her falling in love with being a mother all over again.
"See! I told you your mother could build this treehouse," Audra wiped the sweat from her forehead, the feeling of accomplishment splattered across her face. "Your grandfather can build a cabin. Therefore, I serve you a treehouse," she affirmed, hands on her hips.
It was a grueling day out in the heat, but that was not going to stop her from completing the treehouse she promised her son. Her determination was high in the quest to make an extravagantly constructed structure. The sturdy rope ladder dangled at the base of the platform.
"Make sure you seal the latch to the entrance when you're up here. I don't want you to fall out of this thing," she cautioned. The agreeable nine-year-old raced to the ladder climbing up, his mom tagging along.
"I know your father is growing to become more hot-headed, and it can be frightening. So, you can play out here whenever you need to. No one will bother you," she smiled, "Unless you don't mind your brother coming to play every once in a while." She peered over to him, "I don't want my kids to feel like I'm picking favorites," she winked, "He'll need a place to relax too." Her son was well-mannered and answered her respectfully. He continued to impress her with his selflessness and caring nature.
"I think we got to get this space decorated. How are you gonna start?" She sussed out the 8x9 framing, the deck overlook included, for inspiration. The first item to note would be light fixtures. The only sources of light came from the deck and the one cut-out window. She needed to make sure he could see in the room for reading and whatever else her youngster felt like turning the space into.
Referencing his bedroom, Audra had no clue of possible decorative pieces he may include. He could stash away his beginning fascination with comic books. Pillows, a chair table, and a bean bag are assured required furnishings for the treehouse. His mini oasis. Perhaps he could store his collection of hot wheels and Tonka trucks in the room – they would display nicely and be out of sight from the living room that his father protested on multiple occasions.
She watched as her son stood up and sauntered over to a corner of the treehouse rounding the tree trunk. He gingerly brushed his hand on the wall, mapping out the design in his mind.
"Let's tag the treehouse as yours. Every piece of work needs the creator's name," Jay beamed at his mother. Her son proudly offered her to be incorporated in his magical treehouse. He was taking her heart and pouring so much love inside. The appreciation he was granting her was an uncommon experience, so much so that the tears streaming down her face went unnoticed until Jay's tender hand helped in wiping some away. God, did she love having this child as her own.
They ushered in the opening by marking the wall with her signature, date, and building name – Jay dubbing the treehouse Barks Lair.
Leaning their heads on one another, they admired the tag, it serving as a piece of their strengthening bond. "I'm always gonna need you, Mommy," Jay snuggled closer to his mother. "You can visit me up here anytime you want to."
"Thanks for letting me stay home today, Mommy," Jay sang, climbing up on the barstool.
"Of course, sweetheart. I wanted to have some you and me time."
The Halsteads had a modest living. They got by seemingly well. They had all the necessities, and her children never asked for too much. Her husband was another story. He strove to have the latest and greatest gizmos in the neighborhood, purchasing new editions of electronics, hardware, and appliances. It even extended to the clothing and accessories they wore. Lately, he expected her to lease a new car, continuously pitching her the idea. Her vehicle was the apparent dusty eyesore of the budding neighborhood in Canaryville.
Money spent on all these trivial possessions sank low on her priority list. Vacations were enjoyments she wished they spent their dollars on. Building lasting memories with family held significance in her mind. Patrick resisted her down-to-earth approach for including time for travel. On days she raised the idea of one yearly trip for the kids, he would respond hostility. Deeming the stance a failed one, Audra held on and drew her own solutions on traveling with her children. Regardless of it meaning her imagined destination at home.
"I know you've been watching a lot of extreme sports lately," Audra scanned playfully around the kitchen for any eavesdroppers, "…so I figured we could take a trip to all your favorite places that offer them," she placed a glass bowl on the table. "Pick one and choose what we do first," she gushed enthusiastically, deriving giggles from her son.
"I got surfing in Hawai'i," Jay smiled, reading off the paper strip.
"Yes!" Audra fist pumped, "Hoping you'd pick that one."
"How are we going to surf here?"
"I thought of many ways to do it. But first, we must thank and honor our visit with," she retrieved an item on the countertop, "a lei."
The mother-son duo found the custom of the lei a solidifying piece to begin their vacation. Jay watched in awe as his mother explained how the rest of the day would go.
"Before we go surfing, we got to make sure we eat," Audra gathered the food she stored to prep, shuffling over to the stovetop. Cooking their breakfast, Audra gazed at her son full of love. She made sure that both of her children had at least one special memory, one unique activity, to develop a connection with her. Each one personalized individually to her sons and them alone. Although she did not pick favorites, traveling would always be her choice pastime.
"Ahhhh," Erin groans, rolling to her side. "Ow," she sits up, "Your mom was really up for all of that?"
Jay, unable to control his laughter, answers her by helping her stand. His girl rubs her bum, knitting her brows at him in unspoken words that she better not have a bruise.
"We live in a condo. I doubt the HOA would be keen on us running a slip 'n slide. Cooking oil and trays have to make do," Jay chuckles, struggling to hold in how adorable his girlfriend looked committing to surfing in their condo.
"Very special woman," Erin works her way to cleaning up their mess and returning to the sofa.
"Most think dads teach their sons about the love of sports, football, baseball, and hockey… for us, it was our mom," Jay rakes his fingers through Erin's hair, reminiscing on the game nights.
"She would get immersed in the T.V., almost like she was in the crowd herself. Screaming, yelling, cheering, and talking smack with the rest of them." He hums in amazement, "She was a force. Calling next moves, predicting how Amonte would pass behind the net to get a score."
Jay drifts off further to distinct images of the past, his fingers slowing to a stop. He meets Erin's eyes; her captivating hazels regard him in a plethora of overwhelming love. Completely enamored by his fortitude for opening the topic of his mother.
"Hearing how full her laugh got during commercial breaks was incredible," he traces the outline of her face, "We'd sidebar about our day during the breaks. She would smile this brilliant smile, comfortable in her skin. Effortlessly confident in herself and her hosting abilities whenever we had friends over. She was the life of the party."
Cupping her face in his hand, Jay caresses her cheek, "I made it a deal-breaker for any woman I dated… they had to love sports as much as my mom did."
"Your luck did right by you with me then, don't you say?" Erin rasps, lacing her fingers in his free hand.
"Oh, definitely."
Erin chuckles. Yawning, she tilts her head on his thighs, "Comfy Jay is comfy. I could fall asleep. I like lying in your lap."
"I like your face in my lap too." He feels the death stare radiating off Erin, hiding under her closed and meditative eyes. Should she open them, he would not survive the knife fight. He clears his throat, "Well, stay awake. I have more."
To fathom there would be a day when her son would lie to her about his whereabouts was incomprehensible, her sweet boy. It was upsetting because Jay knew better. Their household had a strict policy on lying, and her sons were careful in the people they chose to befriend.
Patrolling the city limits for her son, Audra was running out of ideas on where he could be. She reacted as a normal parent would. At first, she was aghast because the little shit did it. Then she was emboldened in mother ferocity to locate him. Persistence was her motivation in driving her Volvo 850 to empty. For the purpose of wiping that trademark Halstead smirk – no matter how charming it was – off his face. Her son was most likely prancing around, thinking he pulled one over on her. Not for long. That day would end tonight. She needed to call in the cavalry, the PTA.
...
Learning from the Clemmons of her son's presence at a party drove her foot on the pedal, increasing her initial frustration. Soon it morphed to worry, but most of all, sweet vengeance to give him a taste of his teenage nightmares. She prepared to unleash her greatest weapon, doting helicopter mother. Counting the numbers on the neighborhood street, Audra located the house and pulled in the driveway, parking behind the haphazard vehicles.
The yard was littered, a vast majority covered in red cups and food containers. The rowdy teenagers were surely older than her son. What was he doing at a high school party? Before she was able to enter the house, she heard her son shouting in the distance. Spinning around, she stepped down from the porch. Her son came running out from the bushes with two other kids stick fighting.
"Jay Halstead, what are you doing sneaking out to a party without telling your mother? Your father told me you were working on a project with your classmate. I went to go pick you up early," she crossed her arms disapprovingly, inching closer to him. "At a party! Hosted by a kid who is not your age, no less. No parents watching any of you. Your father and I have rules about this," she reamed.
Jay stood frozen in place; the shock was evident on his face. He had no clear way out of this dilemma. He slowly started retreating to the backyard. Checking around, he noticed everyone was watching him.
"Time to go, baby. It's late. You have that project to finish. We have you on a schedule. I'm preparing dinner, running your bath, and making sure you brush your teeth. Oh! Don't forget I bought you some new clothes today. You can try them on before you go to bed. We can pick out which one you want to wear tomorrow and make sure you look extra handsome."
The music blaring in the background did not stifle the roars of laughter thrown his way. Jay ran to the porch and grabbed his backpack. He shielded his face from the high schoolers and hoped they would not recognize him next year. He hustled past his mother, refusing to warrant her any attention. He slammed the door and ducked under the window, praying to disappear and erase tonight from existence.
"Have fun at the party?" Audra quipped, turning the ignition. Her son rightfully dismissed her, the discontent from her actions taking temporary residence on his face. She was firm, changing the subject, she asked him to explain why he went to a party without permission. The behavior alone was unlike her son's.
"Why did you embarrass me like that?" Jay chimed in, sighing. He chewed on the inside of his mouth, debating if he felt the need to continue. "I'm starting to finally fit in, and-and you babied me right there for everyone to see. On purpose," he grumbled, sniffling quietly. "Worse than dad or the bullies because they're mean. You're my mom … and you wanted to hurt me like they do."
She skidded to a stop, the tires burning rubber on the pavement. "I'm so sorry, Jay," she uttered huskily. Her nose stuffed, and her throat became dry from the tears building in her eyes. The regret was immediate. She was at a loss on how to fix it. It was her fault. She could not pacify her mistake. Nor accept his comforting words as she wept in the car.
"I was heading to pick you up early," she sniffed, "To take you to the frozen custard place you like, as a surprise for how hard you've been working at school. I'm very proud of you." She blinked her eyes clear to look her son in the eyes. "You should feel proud for courageously telling me how you are feeling. I-I am sorry. I shouldn't have… I was just worried, angry… so many things."
"Hmm," Jay frowns, "But, I lied about where I was."
"I trust in the fact you are choosing to make the right decisions for yourself. Even if that means you don't want to tell your mother about them," she smiled weakly, "You're growing up. Always be safe, okay?"
"Lovely for you to visit, Allie. Go on and take a seat on the couch. Jay's on his way down," Audra greeted in an upbeat pitch, glaring at her son as he proceeded down the steps.
The impact of her son dating was crushing her heart. The loss of her sweet boy to a high school sweetheart had to wait. She was in a frenzied state. Her son invited his girlfriend over. She had no time to prepare a meal, clean the house, or assort her china cabinet. Her son took advantage of her panic-stricken condition, fully counting on her occupying herself so he could be alone with his girlfriend. Audra Halstead was cunning and had eyes in the back of her head. This moment was the phase trial of the Motherhood Olympics. She trained. She was ready.
"Jay, dear. I'm sure you told Allie how much you respect our house and our rules," she started, chopping up vegetables for them to snack on. "If we can't see you, you're up to something. Please, do us a favor and hunker in the front room."
"Mom!" Her son groaned, creeping down the steps to return to the couch, a sly smirking Allie behind him.
"Also, the boys know when their girlfriends are over, they are polite. Meaning they wouldn't do anything to cause concern, so neither one's parents are wondering what they are doing while they visit," Audra said with a smile plastered on her face, serving them snacks and drinks.
"When sitting on the couch together, if you both can fit under that blanket," Audra eyed them closely, "you are sitting too close. Make sure you are blanket length apart," Audra cemented, her eye twitching as she meandered back to the kitchen.
"I'm going to win with my superior strength and toned upper body," Erin grunts. She pulls on one end of the throw blanket, yanking it further over the distinguished line between the cushions. She is thoroughly enjoying the sentiment her boyfriend adds into recalling his favorite moments. By weaving her in the details of his memories, he recounts them with lightness, bridging his woefulness unscathed.
"We will see," Jay grins teasingly. He puts minimal effort in his grip on the blanket, knowingly aware he can easily best Erin, pinky alone. Instead, he adoringly ogles how her round eyes squint, dimples concave, and nose flares. His mouth falls open, he watches as her shirt, his shirt, droops low and slides off her shoulder. Erin ushers all her power in each tug, her muscles flexing and tightening. Her competitive streak rivals his playful undertones. "The funniest part of tug-of-war on the couch with your crush is the look she gets not expecting this next move," he vaguely imparts. Resettling his grip, he scoots in and energetically tugs the blanket, lurching Erin forward.
Disoriented, she grasps his legs, catching herself. Just as fast as he draws her close, leaning in, Jay seals a kiss to her lips. Holding up her chin, he slowly deepens the connection. Try as she might, making out session with Jay is anything but brief. The touch of his lips and introduction of his tongue sends shivers of pleasure down her spine, centering her dazed state. The gentle and careful presses of his soft lips always render her breathless, her boyfriend methodological in upholding her safety.
"Hooked all the girls with that one, huh?" Erin breaks away, bantering to flatter his ego.
His ever-present grin reappears, "I decided to improvise my signature move today. My gorgeous adversary inspired me."
Erin crawls forward, returning to his lap, and wraps her arms around his neck. "Good answer," she purrs on his lips.
Jay turns her against the cushions and rolls her beneath him, lying her on the arm of the sofa. The pair gets cozy reclining in their favorite position. He knows he is far from done with introducing Erin to his mom. Besides Allie, Erin is the only woman he has dated who he invites in to hear about his past. The one who is learning how meaningful his relationship with his mother was. He believed he could lock away former events of the past. The mere mention of his mother brings him pain. He thought if he could avoid thinking of her, then the pain would hurt considerably less. He hides his emotions in anger, feeding his resentment towards his father. Anger is easy for him, and it led him down many dark cycles. Many heavy downturns that he balks at reverting to. Anger is easy, but it is also manageable. The moment he met Erin, he knew his plan to remain emotionally detached in their partnership was impossible, just as much as falling for her was impossible to prevent. Her essence alone engulfs him. It secures him to land, and it burns a fire in him to be the one person she can trust. His first instance in the field as her backup, no other signs had to be present. He already knew he was hers.
Erin lovingly strokes his neck and rubs his arm with her other hand, her boyfriend snug between her legs. Jay relaxes fully, enveloped in her arms and his face tucked under her lifted shirt, resting on her stomach. Her delicate touch and melodic humming soothe him, almost lulling him to sleep. In tune, they subtly shift their movements. Erin's fingers run through his hair, and Jay's hands roam down her body, cupping her hips. A sputtering noise fills the air, breaking the spell cast upon them.
"Erin, I love you and everything. I truly do. But I'm too close to your lower half, and I think you are quite too generous in our comfortability with each other," Jay smirks. His smile forms on her belly, hinting at his trickery.
"Bah!" Erin scoffs. "That wasn't me, Halstead," she says incredulously, whacking him slightly on the arm. He snickers, blowing another raspberry on her stomach. The hot breath to follow dances on her skin, detailing the words of his next memory. His mumbling only indicates the sentiment he holds in the stories he is granting to share.
"I thought I was ready. I'm not-I'm not," Audra cried. Jay helped her sit on the stone bench.
"Ma," Jay croaked. He struggled to find words of his own because he understood what his stationed tour meant. A longer period than boot camp. The longest period he has ever separated from her. It is difficult for him too. "Thank you for seeing me off. I appreciate it more than you know. You're the only one that came."
His admission only causes her to sob harder. The Corson's had planned to join her. Unfortunately, they were states away, moving in their freshman to campus.
The dictionary provides no language in absolving how much she despised her husband's behavior for intentionally skipping Jay's departure. An opinion on the matter of their son's career should never have prevented Patrick from showing up. Holding dear what might be their last hug or their last I love you. She agonized over this day. Audra Halstead was inconsolable.
"Mom, I'm gonna be alright. 's it'll go by in no time," her son patted her leg, squeezing lightly to comfort her.
"Your high school graduation was supposed to be the only time I cried sorely like some misguided fool."
"You're no fool."
"Okay, you're right. I may be no fool, but you're my baby," she choked out, drying her face. "You've been the brightest part of my life, Jay. You are. The moment I was pregnant, and-and when I finally held you, I knew. You've grown to be the very person I imagined when I first glimpsed at you. A vibrant baby and a big handful you were as a little boy. Full of character, cheeky and troublesome. Such a strong, loyal, and caring young man you have become. Now… you'll be a protector."
Silence hanging in the air, they enjoyed their moment of stillness, taking solace in the reprieve. They soaked up the sounds of their laughs in a mix of sniffles, not wanting to untangle from the warmth of their hug. The short amount of time forced them to imprint as much as they could to memory. The sound of the steam whistle alerted them of his ride to the military base.
She released him from her embrace, rubbing her hands along his arms. "I love you, sweetheart," she caressed his cheeks, tightly gripping his face. If she held on, kept him hostage, then he would miss the call for his ticket. If he missed the train, it meant he voluntarily forfeited his duty for the next four years. Proving she deserved to be the one to mold her burgeoning hatchling, safe from the horrors of the world. Her son's signature smile smirked through her fallacy, and he stood up, grabbing his duffle bag.
"Promise me, you'll, you'll be safe," Audra voiced tearfully, standing to pull him in another goodbye hug.
"You bet," he kissed her cheek, taking in her beauty that was his mother: Her gracious brown eyes were a fountain of praise. Her smile fought to remain objective. Her aging features outshined others hoping to retain their youth. Her cherry brown hair danced hauntingly in the wind, blowing over her shoulders. Jay was breaking his own heart. He was leaving her behind for his chance to escape but all the while trying to do right by her. "I have the best mother waiting back home for me."
A rich cadence sang through the glass. Perched on the windowsill the bird bobbed its head, content in its rest stop. Viewing the bird felt eerily reminiscent of the one that greeted her years ago. The bird continued to sing, its lyrics calling out her name. Audra wrinkled her brows. The jeering from the bird did not match the sound she was hearing. She kept hearing her name called and shivered unexpectedly to the voice registering in her ears.
"Mom." A weep cut the silence. Her vision refocused on the incoming figure that was morphing into shape. The entry of the new light in the room was sensitive to her eyes. She battled to recognize the person at the door and switched on the side table lamp.
"Jay?"
"Yeah. It's me, Mom," Jay breathed harshly, shutting the door behind him.
The look in his eyes had Audra apologizing ten times over. Her son spent the last three years physically distanced from her, and her bedridden condition was his homecoming. It was a long three years, not only detrimental to her health but her family too.
"What's going on? They-They say you," he spoke the confirmation slowly, "…cancer?"
All she could do was marvel at the man in front of her; what a transformation. Oh, had he grown so much. His gaze was full of uncertainty riddled with slivers of confusion on what to make of her. He didn't run to her immediately. Initially, it hurt to watch as he surveyed the changes to her appearance. Her weathered and worn body not resembling the mother he left at the train station. He gathered his thoughts, examining the room, his face wrinkling up at the bleak staging. What did he expect, for her to magically heal from people buying her flowers and get well soon cards?
"Where's Dad? Will? Am I the first one here?" Jay spewed erratically. "Why, why wasn't I told earlier about you being in the hospital? The Corsons got a hold of me and berated me for having no clue. The doctor said-said you've been sick for about two years. You never told me, never mentioned it the times I spoke with you. Why? Why!"
She let him speak, allowed for him to voice the words to light. A new man was present in the room. Sent off to serve his country and returned was someone who undoubtedly seen too much. Second by second, before their eyes, the scene unfolding was far worse. Neither of them knew how to approach one another.
"I would have, I would have come home. Mom, I would have left to be here. Why didn't you say anything!" His anger rose as he began to pace the area of her room. A behavior he picked up dealing with the stress of service. The state of his mother was a competing stressor in his overwhelmed emotional state.
"You're here now, Jay. You're home now."
"And the time I am, it won't matter. You're dying," he spat before collecting himself. "Mom…," he massaged his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, digging hard to erases the new images of his mother that were carving in his memory. "You can't be… I can't lose you," he cried, shielding his face from her.
The same face he covers recounting the exchange with Erin.
"Breathe. Easy, babe," Erin says, reaching to bring his hand to her chest. It pains her to see him devastated by the grief he harbors insides. "Take a deep breath with me."
Their chest rises and falls together, sharing the weight of their intense emotions. "I got the both of us crying," Jay exhales, trailing his finger down her nose to cup her cheek. "It was supposed to be only me."
"I crumble too. I'm more than a smart mouth and the smell of gunpowder," Erin rasps, wrapping her arms around him. "I love all the aspects of our partnership, and you letting me in is top tier." Her silky tone has Jay melting at her fingertips. Reverence gives way and eases him back towards his mother.
Audra shakily reached out her arms to him, "Come over to your mommy, sweetheart. I missed you."
Jay crossed the room purposefully. The slow motion in his steps added time to the impeding hourglass timer set for his visit. He settled in her embrace, mustering up every ounce of love and care he felt deeply for her. His hug was unrelenting, refusing to let her go. He managed to get a remark out before he shook profusely in her hold, no longer having the power to outweigh the pain.
…
He stayed at her bedside, exiting only to gather items she needed to make her comfortable. Jay told her to answer the questions only she could speak to. He ignored the gut-wrenching hurt by the empty chairs and lack of notifications on his phone from his family. Imagining his mother, for months, sitting alone and dealing with her prognosis enraged him. Battling his thoughts to remain levelheaded was an impossible task. His mother knew how to calm the rabid storm brewing inside.
They spent their first precious hours sharing space on her bed. Jay's learned repulsion to dirty clothes and shoes on a bed fell to the wayside. Their hurried conversations consisted of Jay seeking her advice and Audra relaying her wisdom. Audra fantasized hypotheticals, dreaming of future situations that her son would wind up in. Telling him how she would be one call away, right down the street, or a road warrior planning to visit him. The agony of that truth, not holding those promises, had them wiping unending tears. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his tears showering her skin.
Even with their hoarse speech, they directed their chat to a few sentimental topics. Audra pictured him finishing out his service, starting his career, buying a house, and beginning a family of his own. Those were the key moments she wanted to be earthside for. She was in pieces. Comforted by her son, Audra mulled and sobbed for the loss. His warmth and his solid hold affirmed that in the end, everything was going to be all right. He would somehow be all right.
"I love you," she pointed out, gripping his face. "I always will. Even when you can't feel it anymore."
Audra appreciated her last days with him, overindulging in the special visit. Every waking minute was worth her sharpened breathes and distorted sight. Mothering her son was the greatest feeling alive, and the pride she felt was steadfast. Despite the hurt of what was to come, her unwavering love never faded. It was a harrowing journey. The baby who changed her life, the best part of her story, was watching her leave. Jay was entering the world again. Much different than how he came into it because this time, it was without her.
"She told me she was prepared to leave. The brooch on her chest giving her the strength she needed to ascend back home. Her life fading before my eyes no longer scared her. Having a league of her own to join, wearing the same wings. That their little club requested a plucky optimist who was overly confident in their ability for clean lines and neat corners. A perfect place to finally lay her head," Jay attests solemnly.
Erin pulls away, gasping loudly and hopping off the sofa.
"Jesus, Erin," Jay covers his hand over his rapidly beating heart. "You know I hate when you do that. It scares the shit out of me," Jay rubs his temples, calming his heartrate. His girlfriend gazes at him apologetically. She inhales deeply, her mouth opening and closing to speak, the words suppressed on her lips.
Advancing slowly to Jay, Erin holds out her hands, cognizant of having startled him. "I met your mother," she links their hands, slightly squeezing his fingers. "I met her at the hospital," she kneels at his feet. "It's what you just said, and her names. I missed it earlier," she rambles, shaking her head, "Wow. It's jogging my memory."
"She was a genuinely sweet woman. Impeccably dressed. Inimitable. Nothing too palsy-walsy about her," she consoles, smiling, the gravity of the situation reflecting vividly in her eyes.
Happy tears flicker in her beautifully shifting hazels. An irrevocable look of love displays for him, his spectacle. The sight before him and the words unveiled seconds prior move him beyond measure. Pure relief resounds from his lips, "You what?" His cries are joyous, full of astonishment. His yearn for an explanation goes unprompted.
"I was getting my stomach pumped, great first impression. She even projectile vomited a few chunks of her own at the staff. We were the fan favorites of the emergency room," Erin crafts straight-faced. She withdraws her self-deprecating rib seeing him cringe, and she retells the memory that now has more significance, unbeknownst to her.
Her daily routine consisted of cold hallways and the dreary colors of the oncology ward. Every turn of the corner churned her stomach in discomfort. She avoided hospital facilities of any kind, never having a good experience visiting or being a patient. Camille's ovarian cancer diagnosis made Erin change her tune.
Erin had grown to love Camille more than her mother Bunny. The five years she spent living with the Voights shaped her in a positive light, more than the lessons the streets of Chicago taught her. For that reason, she concluded to spend her time near Camille. The uncertainty of her treatment's success was up in the air.
To gain as many days as possible, Erin joined the hospital as a junior volunteer. She persuaded the nurses to station her in the oncology ward. The placement served her desire to be close to Camille. On top of adding to her hours of community service. Hours required for her necessary college credits before she applied to the police academy.
Erin rapped on the door, greeting the patient as she marched in. "I'm going to turndown the sheets today," she smiled, heading straight to Camille's bedside. "I stashed the nice ones too. No holes. No stains. No wooly mammoth." Erin slid onto the bed, scooching over to fit next to a questioning-looking Camille.
"Do the nurses know you're playing favorites and spoiling me? I dare say I feel like a VIP," Camille grinned, glancing to the television, reading the captions.
"Anyone getting chemotherapy pumped in their veins is a VIP in my book," Erin leaned closer to her and relaxed in the shared bed until her timer beeped. She reluctantly gave a hug to her foster mother and ventured out to complete the tasks of her shift. She was swearing off watches once Camille debuted her solo album, featuring no chemo whatsoever.
That was how her weeks progressed, volunteering at the hospital. She assisted with bedside manner. She transitioned patients from the waiting rooms to the areas for their treatments. The timeline of Camille's care was expertly in sync with her rotations. It eased her knowing Camille was securing her recovery, asking every question, and referencing medical journals for possible surgeries.
Cancer did not work on a timeline; it was an invasion. An unprecedented demand on her body to act and resist the aliens in her immune system. The cancer was taking a toll on Camille's body. Her symptoms of rejecting the I.V. dosage frighten Erin. By no means was Erin spiritual, but she was praying to whoever would listen. Erin even broached the idea of superstitions, thinking of anything to increase the likelihood Camille would see remission. Which ironically led to the bird wing brooches she purchased for the ward. They served a dual purpose, symbolizing victory and freedom. Whether Camille came out beating cancer or taking flight, Erin would be comforted knowing she was in the company amongst friends.
"When they said chemo would kick my ass, they didn't say it would be this much," Camille groaned, "If it weren't for you kids, I would be planning my prison break. Send in Wentworth!" Erin snorted loudly at who Camille deemed a good-looking actor.
"Well, I'm glad you are enjoying the new shows premiering this year. Benefits of the room… unlimited channels, unlimited juice boxes, blankets, and snuggles," Erin gripped on Camille's thin waist. The visible signs of Camille losing weight and muscle were torturous to her. Her foster mother looked the same, smelt the same, and smiled the same, but she did not feel the same. The dichotomy was on an unlikely scale. Erin could not exchange it for a fresh pair, cancel the lease to retrieve her deposit back, or reserve time and guarantee layaway. Camille had cancer with only two polar ends.
"But Camille, I want you here a bit longer. Stay. No breaking out of treatments until we hear good news," Erin sniffed.
"Of course, my love," Camille threaded her fingers through her hair, petting her crown softly as they watched another episode. Erin's breath evened out, telling Camille she had chosen to nap and duck her ward responsibilities. Instead of chiding her, Camille decided to relish in the unique moment of her child's attachment. Because instances like these were rare, making her feel almost thankful for her diagnosis. For it brought their relationship closer.
"How sweet. Are all the nurses that affectionate?" The newcomer spoke, thanking the attendee for showing them the room, walking by to sit on the chair opposite of the bed.
"Uh, no. She's my daughter," Camille explained, fondly glancing at Erin.
"Even luckier," the visitor said, a somber look on their face.
…
"Barney, Jones, and Salazar are fluffed. I set up Cooper and Pratt on a drip. I wheeled out a ton of snacks to the intake room," Erin rambled, jumping to sit on the reception desk. "Ronnie asked for me to do some data entry, update the charts," she nervously told the head nurse, pressing her fingertips together.
"Yes," the nurse confirmed, replacing the large stack near Erin. "No perusing through you know who's file. Upholding confidentiality is important. Even though she's family, it's between the doctor and them," she solidified sternly. "Oh, Erin. A few new patients were onboarded this week. Why don't you also hand out those wings if you have any left? Everyone seems to like them. We're thinking of starting it for other center's care units. They all could use a sense of community belonging in the mess of things."
…
Tackling the stack of files garnered most of her attention, her last hour whittling away. Erin chose to be tactful in ordering how she presented the brooches to the new patients. Eyeballing the infusion room numbers on her sheet, she left Camille's room for last. Pasting on her award-winning smile, Erin breezed in the room, greeting the new patient. "Bellamy…, A. Bellamy? Hi, I'm-"
"I won't be doing names," the older woman cut her off mid-introduction. Erin furrowed her brows, catching Camille's equally puzzled look. She wondered how Camille dealt with her the last couple of hours.
"No names. No problem," Erin coughed back without delay, "I got to call you something. You are under our care. We want you to feel as welcomed as possible." Adding, "Our ward is a community. We anchor everyone in support, at any step of their regimen," her smile unshakable, pleased for plugging the head nurse's sentiment.
"No names. I'm here to get treatment. That's all I intend to do."
Stumped, Erin moved in closer and stared at the woman. She must be scared. Starting cancer treatment, anyone would be scared. "I'm a volunteer. I guess you can call me that," Erin smiled firmly. "You don't have to feel alone while you're with us. You are far from that here. I hope you use this," she pulled out the dove wings rhinestone pin from her scrubs pocket. "All patients have varying outcomes. With these wings, I comfort you in knowing that you all are not so different. Show each other your strength and spread your wings as you go, no matter the direction."
The woman carefully took the brooch and examined it. Pining it on, she spoke, her eyes misting, "I'll be alone… but having this… thank you. The one person I wish were here can't be. So, call me Jay. That'll give me the strength I need."
"Jay, huh?" The true name holder interrupts, his weak lopsided grin shouldering strength. "She was… blunt."
"Yea," Erin stammers, lifting her head. "She loved you. Now it makes sense why you always felt familiar to me," she rests her head back under his chin.
Erin had far too few encounters with Bellamy, err, Jay, as the woman called herself. Her treatment hours were opposite of her volunteer shifts. Erin continued to coax her out of her repressed feelings. Erin wanted her to start connecting with the other patients in the ward. Erin settled upon prying more information from Camille, her quintessential roommate.
"You're trying really hard to get to know that woman," Camille quirked her eyebrow.
"What can I say? I'm intrigued," Erin shrugged, "Plus, I'll prove my capable investigative skills." Camille chuckled along, paying her no mind, and focused on her new reality show obsession. Mum's the word. Camille was not sharing details. Erin idly waited for the woman to show up.
"Volunteer girl," the woman smiled, plopping in her seat.
"Hi, Jay," Erin returned her smile.
…
Relieved, she was relieved. After months and months, the heavy feeling of relief finally coursed through her body. Camille was in remission. Her doctor used the last month to monitor her test results. Today, Camille was signing out with no further appointments until the next year. The alert of Camille's text message floored Erin. She collected herself and raced to the exam room, flying straight to her embrace.
"We don't know for sure-"
"We know here and now. Right now, you're stuck with us," Erin reassured. "Let's make your rounds and give everyone the news. Especially Jay. She's gonna want to see you."
"Love, when's the last time you spoke to her?"
"Umm, weeks maybe. I've gotten busy with the transferred patients and preparing for my classes," Erin recounted, describing her hectic schedule. "Is she okay? She's okay, right?" Erin spluttered, facing Camille.
"They took her to the hospice care unit. Last week."
"What? She only started treatment. I don't understand."
"She came in at an advanced stage, Erin. Dealing with it by herself, she forced herself to believe she wasn't sick. She stopped responding to treatment a near month ago."
"I'm going to go see her," Erin cried, running out of the exam room.
Camille shouted behind her, "She doesn't want to see anyone."
The woman she had grown acquainted with was dying. Erin played it safe, optimistic that the patients she met would get better. Granted, some patients were terminal, but she grew exceptionally close to others. Her downfall of sorts. Building relationships with a person fully aware they possibly had to leave. She hated hospitals.
Searching for her room, Erin thought of what she would say. For words that held any value. Zero came to mind. Sighing, she followed the name cards and stumbled upon her door. She reached for the knob, stopping short to the shadow moving in the room. The lights were dim, and she peered through the sidelight glass window. Erin saw the woman clutching a shadowy figure dressed in a duty uniform. Erin sobbed quietly at the sight. "She's not alone after all," she muttered to herself. Touching the glass, she said goodbye and rejoined Camille.
The tires roll to a stop on the gravel pavement, posting across the street from a familiar-looking house. The couple slowly exits the car, signaling to the stranger walking down to meet them. Erin had asked Jay to accompany her on a drive after finishing their afternoon in the condo. The destination was unknown to him until the well-known streets of Canaryville presented themselves. She called Will to ask for the address of the Halstead's old residence. Skeptical at first, Erin convinced him to trust her reasonings, and he provided it to her. She dialed up the current homeowner and explained her idea of the odd visit. A gift she felt her man needed after an emotionally draining day.
"Are you Erin?" The older gentleman calls, ridding his hands of collected dirt. She nods, mouthing the acknowledgment. "Take your time, your welcome to the bits of the house," he smiles, tending back to the garden.
Intaking a breath, she leads Jay to the front yard. Stepping on the grass is a feat itself. He stands unmoving on the maintained lawn, looking wistfully at his childhood home and noting the changes in the façade over the years. He studies the exterior, recapturing the scenes of his youth. He flashes back to memories of running around the yard with his brother, playing with the water hose, and hanging out on the stoop on weekends.
A gentle dimpled smiling Erin leans her head on his shoulder, stroking his arm interlaced with hers. He stares back at the house, longing for those days before his mother passed, wishing he could see her one last time.
He slowly processes the reality of his last visit home, replenishing his mom's hospital bag. His voice echoing through the empty house, his father and brother were gone. The new movement on his shoulders draws him from the painful memory. Erin clings to him, shaking him in excitement. The shaking increases as she bounces up and down behind him.
"You ready. You ready!" Her unusual thrill confuses him. "You ready for a better look-see at the house?" Erin cheers on, "You got this, babe."
"I'm at my old childhood home, not a fighting championship to retain my title," Jay chuckles, rigid in place.
"And yet, you made no moves off the rope," she squeezes his shoulders once more, circling to face him. The clouds in his eyes obscure the brightly colored seafoam green orbs she reads so easily. "One step at a time. Don't feel obligated to do anything more," she comforts him, resting her palm over his heart. "We'll pay our respects."
The offer for the hushed roam about the house alleviates his hesitancy. Jay guides them over the length of the front yard, winding back up to the sidewalk to mention stories of the neighborhood kids and block parties hosted. In their silent trek to return to the house, they enter through the front door. They skim through the main floor, Jay noting to himself how the owners made their house a home. The renovations and design are in stark contrast to the Halsteads. After a trip down to the basement, he routes them outside to the backyard. Any dismay he felt at the start melts away when he lays his eyes on the treehouse. He releases the breath he held, believing he would find a deconstructed treehouse. The old treehouse weathered the storm, the new homeowners sustaining the care.
Their stroll ends at the foot of the tree. The owners switched the rope for a sturdier bunk ladder. Mirroring his hesitancy at the start, Jay shies from budging, the memories alone too powerful.
"If you don't mind, I'll head up first," Erin suggests, smirking, "You may be a little too big for the treehouse."
Jay chuckles. "I assure you … I enjoy a tight fit," his heated gaze follows her, and he climbs up the ladder. His girlfriend laughs successfully in rousing him from mulling too long. Setting foot in the treehouse, a daunting task, reassures him because he feels the much-needed connection he sought for the moment Erin parked out front.
Once his boyish treehouse is now a whimsical hideaway, showcasing the longevity of the space for whichever kids play in it. They tiptoe around the treehouse, surveying the layout and finding a spot to sit. Erin gazes out the window, affording a view of the main house. Jay lounges in the corner, peeking through the porch entry. He briefly inspects the room once again, and his eyes land on a framed picture on the wall. Shuffling across the floor, Jay instantly breaks down in heavy sobs, causing Erin to scramble to get to him.
"Jay," Erin attempts to soothe him, wrapping him in her arms. Glancing toward the wall, the framed etching in the wood comes into view. She emphatically repeats his name, understanding his eruption of tears. Meticulously placed on the wall is a frame preserving Audra Halstead's signature. The owners not only kept the treehouse, but they also honored the creator, the mother, who treasured her family.
Jay traces his fingers over the lettering. He chokes behind his tears, speaking to her, "Hi, Mommy." Erin thumbs his cheek as he continues.
"I miss you so badly," he thickly swallows his words. Rubbing his eyes, he takes hold of Erin's hand, sending her a warm smile. "I found the right girl. You'd like her. You even met her first," he squeezes her hand, "Mom, meet Erin Lindsay."
They nestle up together, admiring her tag. Similar to how the day kicked off, Jay shares the many fond memories he built over the years, introducing his mother to the love of his life. Giving back to the one woman who taught him how to love freely. Joining in renewed strength, that he is finally ready to soar.
AN: I meant to put out the next Seven Minutes in Heaven chapter, but I didn't want to lose this idea so I wrote it out first. Music tends to be my muse. Supermarket Flowers by Ed Sheeran inspired me on this one. I did my first one shot! What do you think?
I officially have a WIP. I'll be back to 7M soon. I just have some writer's block, and I'm working through it.
Side note, Christmas in July was last month. I totally blanked on that, lol. Y'all know I love Christmas if you read Unforgettable Christmas. Would you like to see a Christmas in July fic? :( Since I'm late, I wouldn't publish it until either in November or December.
Sorry for any spelling/grammar issues.
Stay safe!
