Keep Her
Keep Her
by Faith Andrews
Copyright © 2014 by Faith Andrews
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Except the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles and lyrics contained in the book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Interior Design by Angela McLaurin,
Fictional Formats
To my mother for being my rock, my voice of reason, my teacher, my role model, and my friend. You’ve always loved me unconditionally and without judgment, supporting all my dreams and even my mistakes. Thank you for accepting me for who I am and for helping me in ways I never imagined you could.
I’ll love you forever,
I’ll like you for always,
As long as I’m living
my Mommy you’ll be.
~Robert Munsch,
Love You Forever
Dear God, let today be the day. Please take her with you. Bring her home to be with my Nanny. Let her be at peace.
The tears streamed down my face—I couldn’t believe I had any left at this point, but praying for death… I guess that brings on tears no matter how depleted you are.
“Ry,” Mom said, holding out her hand. “Where’s Marcus?”
That was a good question. I looked around the room, as if he might be hidden in some corner, but from the sounds of the over-excited announcer and the loud roar coming from the television, it was obvious he was in the living room, watching the Yankees game with Dad and his best friend, Beck. Avoidance was his coping mechanism. He couldn’t keep vigil by her side anymore. It was too painful for him. He didn’t know how to handle his emotions—he was going to be lost without her. She was his best friend in the whole world, even if he was too macho of a teenage boy to admit it. Keeping busy kept him sane.
I stood, adjusting her favorite patchwork quilt so it covered my mother’s bony arms. “He’s watching the Yankees, why? Want me to get him?”
“No,” she said on a whisper, her frail voice becoming less and less distinguishable as the lively one I’d grown up with. “I want to talk to you alone. There are things I need to say.”
The tears that had finally subsided welled up again, this time lodging themselves in my throat and flooding my vision as well. I knew from experience that when people on their death beds started talking about things they needed to say or confessions they had to get off their chest, the end was near. As much as I needed to see her out of pain, I also wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye. But I held back from begging her to hold on and nodded, gripping her fragile hand.
She squeezed mine back with the tiniest bit of strength. As weak as it was, it comforted me. I hoped her words would too. She spoke slowly, as if reciting a speech, something important she’d rehearsed. For all I knew, she probably had. “I know you think I’m going to miss so much—graduations, boyfriends, your wedding, your
babies
, but—” she paused, swallowing back her own tears and pushing forward with a loving smile. “I will be here, Riley Jo. I will be here to guide you and celebrate with you on every one of those journeys. Right now it might be hard to believe that’s true but I’ll fight with the man upstairs Himself just to make sure I’m by your and your brother’s sides whenever I’m supposed to be.”
“Mom—” I tried to interrupt, but she brought her hand up to my cheek and the touch of her cool, soft skin silenced me.
“Let me finish, sweetie.”
I nodded, placing my hand over hers and encouraging her to continue.
“You’ve made me so proud, Ry. You’re bound for greatness, I just know it. Everything you touch just seems to be improved because of you. You’ll have that same impact on your father and brother and I don’t want them to be a burden, even though I know it’s your nature to step up to the plate and take over—that’s just you, but… you need to remember to live this life for
you
too. Daddy will be okay in time and Marcus… he’ll grow up—one of these days.” She smiled the widest I’d seen in days, letting out the slightest chuckle.
As much as she adored her son, he was a handful lately. Rebelling because of his anger over our mother’s health; taking advantage of his newfound stud status with the ladies. Now that they were finally taking interest in him, he was suddenly a cocky little son of a bitch. And they actually
liked
that about him.
I laughed alongside her, thinking about how much my mother and I could get a rise out of my little brother. I’d miss that—God, I’d miss so many things once she was gone.
Before I could tell her this, she swallowed back another gulp of tears to continue where she left off. “What I’m trying to say is—sweetie, be happy. You’re smart, beautiful, and the most loving person I know, but you’re also stubborn and sometimes
too
selfless. Do things just because they make you smile. Never settle, honey, but you need to kiss a lot of frogs and
then
marry your prince. Learn to let things go, even if you don’t want to.”
My mother and I had had a lot of heart to hearts over the years, but she was always guarded with me because she thought I was sensitive. So, the vulnerability in her words of wisdom came as a surprise. “So,” I said, wiping away a tear, “you wait ‘til now to unleash it all, huh?”
I guided her up by her elbow, adjusting her pillows as she continued with a chuckle, “I know it seems that way, but I’ve told you these things—in other ways—your whole life. You’re too serious, Riley. I know you feel you need to be, but it’s okay not to be perfect all the time.”
I wanted to believe that with all my heart. I wanted to be able to live this through, especially since these were the words my mother decided to leave me with. But even though I wanted to make that promise, it would be damn near impossible to simply “let my hair down” once she was gone. She was leaving us with big shoes to fill and if my father and brother—hell, all
three
of us—were going to survive her death, I would have to be more serious than I’d ever been.
Not wanting to disappoint her or give her any inkling that I wouldn’t follow through on her wish, I leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. “You are one wise woman, Mom. What the hell are we going to do without you?”
She raised her cold hand to my face, tucking a hair behind my ear and then resting her palm against my cheek. “Live. You’re going to live.”