Forever & A Day Read online

  Forever & A Day

  Donalyn Maurer

  For Laura.

  Alissa and Judi, thank you for always supporting me. Love you to your souls, ladies.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Max

  Epilogue

  Forever & a Day Playlist

  Karaoke

  Why by Maxwell “Blue” Bradshaw

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Donalyn Maurer

  Prologue

  Once upon a time, a beautiful girl fell in love with a handsome boy.

  1

  “Umph!” What the heck? My body flops up and down on the mattress a couple of times, which causes the dull pounding that was asleep to wake up with a vengeance. Reluctantly, I open one eye, wincing at the throb caused from subtle movement, and who do I see? Abigail, and she’s all smiles. Despite my pain, I manage to smile back.

  “Good morning, sissy,” she chirps.

  “Morning, brat.” I groan when the pounding intensifies. “How are you even able to move? You drank more than me,” I accuse, throwing one of my arms over my eyes in an attempt tamper down the banging against my temples.

  Yesterday, Abigail and Nick drove down from Lubbock, because Grandma threw me a bridal shower. Bernice, Kaitlin, and Noralee came, as well as Bella, Victoria, Kore, Raleigh, Allie, Jenny and their mom’s, plus a ton of my grandma’s friends from church.

  Grandma had a lovely spread of finger sandwiches, an array of hors d’oeuvres, and drinks for us to enjoy. She brought out her best party china. A stainless-steel coffee chafer urn and large crystal punch bowl with dessert plates, sat out along her dining room table that was covered in a white linen table cloth. Hung from the ceiling, were tissue paper poms and garland, and a bridal shower banner was tacked to wall opposite from the dining room table.

  The theme was country chic, so the decorations were all rustic brown with light blues and greens. Chairs were borrowed from the church, and placed in a circle around the large room. I figured we’d have a proper southern ladylike afternoon party–that was the feel of the day, but I was wrong. To say I was surprised at the mood of my guests, and the gifts I received, would be an understatement. I figured when I registered at the department store and listed kitchen utensils, as well as some linens, and odds and ends such as corn on the cob skewers shaped as, well, corn on the cob, those are the things I would receive. Again, I couldn't have been more wrong. So very wrong.

  My aunts and Violet had gone early to help Grandma set up, while Abigail and I hung out at Violet and Dad’s getting ready. I wore a dark green Maxi dress, with a fitted bodice and Grecian back. I topped it off with gold hoop earrings, about ten thin gold bangles, and my most favorite pair of gold jeweled-toe sandals. Abigail was lovely in a short, pink chiffon sleeveless number, with pale purple wedges. My aunts and grandma were all in their own summer dresses, and were beautiful as well.

  When the doorbell began to chime, and the church ladies arrived, they were not empty handed. Nope, along with gifts, they carried spirits. Mostly wine, but one had a bottle of Jack Daniels and a liter of coke, then another showed up with a case of beer, and I could have kissed her. But it was when Bertha Langston showed up brandishing a bottle of Jose Cuervo and yelled, “tequila,” that I became worried. I was concerned Grandma’s proper southern bridal shower was being derailed. To my surprise, she just laughed and retrieved wine glasses, and whiskey tumblers, then placed a few beer mugs in her freezer to chill.

  After everyone arrived, we sat around enjoying Grandma’s food while chatting. Every single one of them quizzed me about the wedding, how the planning was going, and all of them chastised me for not yet choosing a dress. Yes, it’s true. It’s two weeks before the day Max and I marry, and I don’t have a dress.

  When it came time to open the gifts, Violet sat to my right with a pen and notepad to record them, while Abigail handed me the lovely wrapped presents that sat atop the small gift table Grandma had set up. The first gift I opened was a set of exquisite, crystal champagne flutes from Dorothy Ross, who teaches Sunday school. Next, from Agnes Willington, was a sweet, white lace gown with a matching robe, and I couldn’t help but blush. After that it got more risqué.

  I opened several boxes of sexy nighties, along with teddies, and barely-there undies. All from the church ladies who were now well into their third or fourth drinks. Thanks to Aunt Savannah, who kept my mug filled, I was on my third beer, while Abigail and Violet were throwing back wine like it was water. Not what I was expecting at all.

  Halfway through the pile of the gifts, I opened a box of edible panties and body pasties from Kaitlin and Bernice. The next would reveal a pair of crotch-less panties and body glitter from Noralee. When I looked up at her in shock, she shrugged and smirked in response. But, when Ida Riley gave me a pair of nipple clamps with pink feathers on the ends, and a small pink and black flogger, Abigail almost fell out of her chair when she burst into laughter while loud gasps sounded through the room.

  I kept calm as I looked over at Violet, who had her pen in mid-air in obvious shock. I picked up my mug, chugged the remainder of my beer, then let out the most delicate and ladylike burp I could. A few chuckles erupted around the room as I set the mug back down, and chanced another glimpse at Violet. Her lips were parted in surprise, with the pen still hovering over the notepad, so I tapped the tablet with my finger and said calmly, “The nipple clamps and flogger are from Ida.” Violet’s gaze slid over to me, and her lips then closed as she held them tight in an attempt not to laugh.

  “Nip-plleeee clamps. Fllllog-ger. Ida. Got it,” she replied as she wrote, and that’s when I lost it and burst into laughter. So did everyone else in the room, even Ida, who I guess is the church prankster. After we gathered ourselves, Ida presented me with another gift, the real gift, and an expensive bottle of champagne. In the end, no kitchen utensils, or linens, and no corn on the cob skewers, shaped as tiny corn on the cobs, were anywhere to be found. When the party began to dwindle, Grandma called in my uncles, dad, brothers, and cousin to help the ladies and their cars get home, because most of them were smashed.

  By the time Nick and Max arrived to take us back to the house, Abigail and I were tipsy ourselves. Okay, we were a wee bit past tipsy, and we weren’t done. We sat, swaying on the front porch swing, after we hit my beer and wine supply, then embarked on a path down memory lane. But even as tipsy as I was, as we reminisced, a few painful moments re-surfaced and it still hurt to reflect on them. Even the beer couldn’t stop the ache in my hear
t.

  Max and Nick had left the two of us in solitude. I imagine, to let us have our sister-time. Abigail and I not only share a bond as sisters, but we’ll forever have a profound connection due to Daniel almost killing both of us, while her and I tried to protect one another.

  The events since Grandpa’s death, and the situation with Daniel, have been an awakening for our family. We’ve been taught that every moment of our time here on Earth is a precious gift from our Heavenly Father, that it should be cherished, and is anything but guaranteed. We take nothing for granted now, because we were exposed to the fact the there is real evil in this world that can rob you of your life in an instant. An evil emanating such darkness, even the scariest Hollywood horror movies could never replicate on their silver screens. But it also bared light on the magnitude of the granting the gift of forgiveness. As a family, we chose not to let the evil, Dr. Davis Jennings, overpower the blessing that God bestowed upon each of us, and that is the power of love.

  When Abigail brought up Grandpa, we opened up to one another about how difficult the loss has been, and we shed a few tears. After all this time, it still feels like yesterday that we had to say goodbye to him, and the pain is just as raw. Max and our families are bright lights, but there are still times that I get lost in the pain and regret of him not being here. I try not to let anyone see it though. I feel like I’ve put everyone through enough. They’ve suffered because of me, whether or not it was directly my fault, and I know they still hurt for me.

  Most of the time I’m not faking my joy, but sometimes, especially when I’m reading, my mind drifts to the days Grandpa was still with us, and I breakdown. When Max asks what’s wrong, I fib and tell him it’s just a sappy romance book pulling at my heartstrings. My sugar bear works so hard to make me happy and I feel guilty there are times there’s nothing that seems to sooth me, even though I have this beautiful life.

  Even my dad works hard to make sure I’m okay, and so do Uncle Duke and Brock, but Grandpa is the man who raised me, and I always dreamt he’d be the one to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day. I envisioned him kissing my cheek before he placed my hand in my future husband’s, and I knew if he did this that I would have his blessing, which meant he approved of the man I’d call my husband. Although, I know without a doubt he would affirm my choice of Max, even though he’s not here to give me the words. It seems each day something happens that I wish I could share with him. When the warmer weather set in, I thought back to our summers at the lake. I recalled all the good times, and a thin line between happiness and sorrow sliced through my heart.

  In the search for a venue for our wedding, I’d become discouraged because nothing drew me in. Many grand hotel ballrooms and spectacular churches would be perfect places, and I was about to give in and agree to the church Grandma attends, when another location was proposed. While talking with my aunts, Savannah and Paige, one afternoon over lunch, Aunt Savannah cautiously suggested something different, yet very familiar. When she disclosed the location, I closed my eyes and let my mind drift. I could envision it and it was beautiful. I was slammed with such deep emotion, that I actually clutched my chest. I wondered why I hadn’t thought of it. It was perfect.

  I called Max and asked him what he thought. When he agreed it was perfect, I reached out and asked Grandma how she felt about it. She, too, thought it was a splendid idea, but I was still concerned how the rest of the family would feel. They all praised the idea and agreed there was no other spot Max and I should marry. I may not have Grandpa here to walk me down the aisle, but I know he’ll be with me in spirit because Max and I are getting married at the cabin during bluebonnet season.

  Everyone will go up the Wednesday prior to hang out, just like old times. Jake and Uncle Duke offered to bring their ski boats, which hyped up the excitement. We’ll spend our days swimming and skiing, and our evenings watching the sunset. The Blue Bonnet Cafe will see us often, but at least one night we plan to hang out at the cabin and barbecue. Even the local Dairy Queen is on the list as a must.

  We have the venue. We even have the most beautiful cakes. I chose a three-tier white cake, with pale pink buttercream icing. I have lemon filling on one layer, peach on another, pineapple on the last, and of course my cake will still sparkle. Rhinestones made of sugar will border the sides. Aunt Paige found the most beautiful Waterford bride and groom cake topper that will adorn the top tier. Max’s grooms cake is chocolate on chocolate, of course. It’s two square tiers, with fudge studs, and a simple letter B on the front side. Strawberries drizzled with chocolate will line the base.

  Last count, we have had just over sixty guests RSVP. From Dad’s construction company employees and their families, to people from Grandma’s church. Family and co-workers, along with Sheriff Cullens and his wife, Sergeant Taylor and his plus one, and Captain Walters and his wife will attend. My dad searched around Marble Falls and found a resort close by that could accommodate everyone, then arranged a special rate as he paid the deposits himself, and blocked enough rooms needed for our guests. The cabin on Pecan Lane, is just three miles away and a very short drive.

  Of course, Ana, Max’s mom, is roasting the pig she and Max picked from the pig farm, which I insisted on knowing no details. She’s also making enough Lumpia and pancit for all the guests. But because I want everyone to enjoy the day and not work too hard, I’ve hired The Smokehouse, the local barbecue spot in town, to cater as well. Brisket and sausage will be served, along with coleslaw, potato salad, bread, creamed corn, beans and barbecue sauce. After the reception, Max and I plan to head back to our home in Comfort. We decided that the first night we spend together as husband and wife won’t be in a strange hotel, but in the home we love so much instead.

  Violet and Dad hired an event planner from the local area, Betsy Kay Droton, and she’s doing a wonderful job. A large chandelier will hang from a huge, brilliant white tent that will be set up between the cabin and garage, and over a dozen fans that actually have cooling capabilities will be placed about. Betsy Kay shared her vision, and I fell for every idea she had. White strands of lights will cascade throughout the property. Mason jars with tiny candles will hang from every tree, with strands of white lights wrapping the trunks. During the official ceremony, wooden whitewashed fold out chairs will be dressed in royal blue bows and placed in rows.

  Afterwards, while our guests enjoy a drink, round tables will be brought in and the reception will be set up, all under the cover of the tent. When I mentioned my concern over our guests who have worn heels, and them sinking into the ground, she told me a temporary floor was already ordered, and it would also serve as our dance floor. Makeshift sidewalks will be rolled out along the paths that lead to the different areas of the property where guests would go, like the restrooms.

  We plan to have kegs, but we’ll also have a bar and bartender, which led to another worry–I didn’t want my guests drinking and driving. Betsy Kay told me she arranged for resort shuttles to transport the guests to the cabin, since parking on the property is limited anyway. Even guests who have driven in for the day, have been cleared to park in the resort’s lot and will take the shuttle. Any out-of-town guests in for the day, thought to have had too much to drink and drive will, be set up with a room at the resort. This made me breathe easier.

  I also cringed when I thought I’d have to have my guests using port-o-potties, or standing in line forever, waiting for the cabin’s single small bathroom, but that issue was solved too. Dad has arranged for luxury portable bathrooms to be delivered and set up. One of his construction buddies set him up with those. Everything has gone very smooth and it should all be in place by the rehearsal dinner on the eve of our wedding.

  Next week is my bachelorette party, and it’s also Max’s bachelor party. We’ve combined them and will hold them at Holloway’s. After Abigail insinuated there may be male strippers, the separate party idea was squashed. Abigail was just doing it to rile up the men, but they weren’t risking it. Honestly, I’m glad
it worked out this way. Every moment I’m away from Max, I feel like part of me is missing anyway.

  The wedding is now only two weeks away, but I’ve yet to choose a dress–which is insanity at its best. That’s the other reason Abigail is here. Despite my monster hangover today, the women will gather to hit every dress shop in this town and surrounding cities, on a mission to find my dress.

  I know it’s unheard of for brides not to have a dress at this point. Most choose a dress months and months before, and they attend multiple alteration sessions to make sure everything is absolutely perfect. I’ve seen so many dresses my eyes are crossed. In the end, not one grabbed my heart. I mean, they were all beautiful, but they weren’t for me and they weren’t for Max. Everyone has been giving me subtle suggestions, but they’re trying not to pressure me. No one doubts my determination for a moment, since I live in bridal magazines. But still, the ceremony is just days away and no dress.

  Abigail, being Abigail, spoke up and asked me what the problem was. I told her I wasn’t sure, but I just know the dresses I’d seen so far weren’t the one, so she arranged for all the women in our family to converge and help me. Even Callie is coming with us. She is our flower girl and needs to pick her dress as well. Aunt Paige said, as soon as I had mine, we’d know what to get for her. They’ve all declared that it won’t matter how many dress shops we have to go today, we will find my dress before the sunset. Grandma will do the alterations, as she is an amazing seamstress.