Goodbye Uncertainty Read online

  GOODBYE UNCERTAINTY

  Copyright © 2014 Jacquelyn Ayres

  Cover Design: Wicked by Design

  Cover Model: Victoria Jordan

  Cover photographer: DeLaine Roberts

  Editor: Jess Huckins

  Formatting: Self Publishing Editing Service

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. 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 an information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All poetry is the original work of Jacquelyn Ayres.

  ISBN: 978-0-9912490-6-0

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Coming Summer 2014!

  Barely Surviving by Courtney Cross - Prologue

  Barely Surviving – Chapter One

  About the Author

  To all the women who have journeyed back to themselves, after being lost for so long. It is an honor to walk amongst you.

  And to my three beautiful children for being the compass in my journey, I love you.

  You are my stars and I am your moon.

  “Ray? Ray?” I cry and try to lean forward, lifting my arms to him. He hugs me fiercely.

  “Oh, thank God ... thank God, baby.” He kisses every inch of my face. His skin feels hot, and he doesn’t look very well.

  “Ray ... baby, you’re burning up.” I touch his forehead.

  “Becs?” He searches my eyes.

  “What? Ray, you need to go to the ER.” I push his hair off of his forehead.

  “I’m okay, baby ... stop. How are you?” He holds my hand to his cheek.

  “Upset with you.” I sigh. He looks down nervously. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself! You’re here twenty hours a day, and Lord knows you’re not sleeping the other four.” I push the call light.

  “How do you know how many hours I’m here?” He looks up.

  “I know a lot of things, Ray. I’ve had quite an enlightening experience, to say the very least.” I kiss his forehead.

  “Becs?” He seems nervous, which doesn’t help me fight off my concerns. I try to find the right words to say—and then it dawns on me.

  “I’m ready to be yours, Ray. I’m ready for us. I’m ready for our present and our future. I’m ready to be all you need now,” I repeat the words he had said to me. Whether he was actually the one who said them, I’m not sure.

  His eyes fill up. “Yeah ... until tomorrow,” he says under his breath.

  “Tomorrow, I will feel the same. And the next day, and the day after next. No more Lucy Whitmore, baby. I promise.” I chuck his chin, making us lock eyes.

  “You know I call you Lucy?” A smile breaks through his lips.

  “Yes.” I smile. “Look, Ray, I know and understand why you may have some reservations about what I’m saying. Please give me the chance to prove it’s true.” I lean forward to kiss him, but he pulls away.

  “I want to kiss you, baby, but you’re right. I’m not feeling very well. I don’t want to get you sick.”

  Just then, the nurse walks in.

  “Hi, Jen!” I smile, recognizing her. Jen and Ray both look at me sharply.

  “How do you know who I am?” she asks with a slight smile.

  “I just know.”

  “Well, it’s good to see your eyes.” She grabs my hand.

  “Ray was right. The other nurse was hurting me,” I inform her. They both get wide-eyed. “Jen, Ray is running a fever and I’m afraid he won’t listen to me about getting checked out,” I say, raising my eyebrows at him. He stares at me in astonishment. Jen goes over to him with her thermometer, puts a plastic cover on it, and instructs him to open his mouth. After a few seconds, we hear the beep.

  “Oh, you are so outta here!” she snaps at him in disbelief. “Down to the ER right now! Dana!” she yells toward the hall. A nurse walks in.

  “What’s up, Jen?” she asks.

  “Please take Mr. McNeil down to the ER with his 104.5 fever!” She gives him The Look, and I dart mine at him as well.

  “I don’t want to leave. She just woke up!”

  We all stay expressionless.

  “I’ll take Tylenol,” he adds.

  “Oh, okay. So, Becca’s health and the babies’ health are of no concern?” Jen sighs, her voice full of sarcasm.

  “Jen!” Ray says with panic and looks at me, petrified.

  “I know about the babies.” I softly pat my belly and offer a slight smile. “We’ll talk about them later. Right now, I want you to go and take care of yourself, McNeil. You. Look. Awful.” I poke at his shoulder.

  “Babe?” he asks, seemingly confused.

  “Go!” I point to the door. He gets up, confusion still lingering on his face. “Hey, McNeil,” I say as he nears the exit. He turns, still looking weary. “I love you, baby.” I shoot him an air kiss and wink. He flashes me a boyish grin and gets on his way.

  “You have a very stubborn man on your hands, lady!” Jen shakes her head.

  “Yes, I know ... thank God,” I add the last bit under my breath.

  “So, before the doctor gets up here and before I take out your catheter, I need to ask you a series of questions,” Jen states as she charts in her computer.

  “It’s 2012, Obama is president, and I’m at Mass General in Boston, Mass. My date of birth is March 5, 1977. Does that cover it?” I smile.

  “Works for me, lady! I can’t believe you just woke out of a three-month coma in this condition!” She smiles.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Usually it doesn’t look so good for a full recovery when someone is in one longer than a month. But here you are!” She squeezes my hand.

  “Thank God for miracles.” I smile and rub my belly.

  “You didn’t even panic or anything. No confusion at all. It’s like you just woke up from a nap.” She looks at me, miffed, as if she’s trying to figure it all out. She pulls the curtain and assists me in bending my knees to get the catheter out.

  If she only knew ...

  “Oh dear, I have to pee.” I go to sit up.

  “Bedpan,” she says, sounding panicky.

  “It’ll never happen.”

  Just then, Dr. Peterson walks in and I have to stifle my giggle. He really does look like Chewbacca’s little brother.

  “Mrs. McNeil! Where are you going?” He gets on my other side. Mrs. McNeil? Holy shit! Are we married? “Mrs. McNeil?” he asks again.

  “Sorry, I need to get to the bathroom. Will you help?” I push myself onto the floor and try to steady my wobbly legs. They both help me, though they are obviously not pleased. I then talk Jen into helping me with a shower.

  A few hours have gone by. It’s now ten in the morning and I have been mindlessly watching TV and waiting to hear anything about Ray. The r
ush of adrenaline I felt when I first woke up wore off during my shower. I am now experiencing the effects of being in a coma for three months: muscle weakness, unsteady gait, and feeling a little foggy. Although, that could be from the pain meds.

  “You’re still here?” I ask in disbelief as Jen walks in.

  “With the amount of paperwork you gave me, lady?” she asks, but adds a smile.

  “Sorry,” I offer.

  “I’m not! So, listen, Dr. Peterson has ordered a slew of tests to check your psychological, neurological, and physical status. If you get a clean bill of health, you can go home as early as tomorrow.”

  “Have you heard about Ray?” I ask.

  “Oh, yes, I did. He’s been admitted with pneumonia. He’s very lucky you woke up when you did—and that you didn’t get sick!” she says, a bit annoyed. “Actually, you still might, so I’ll have them include the symptoms to look out for on your discharge papers,” she adds.

  “You want to call him a dumbass, don’t you?” I laugh.

  “Yes, I do! Anyhow, he’ll be here for a few days—and you cannot visit him,” she adds.

  “I guess that wouldn’t be a great idea, given my condition.” I sigh and rub my belly.

  “He should recover soon. You take care, Becca.” She hugs me. “I have tomorrow off, so I won’t see you. I’m glad you’re back. It’s been a pleasure taking care of you and your overbearing, overprotective husband.” She laughs.

  “Thanks, Jen! You’ve been wonderful. I hope Ray didn’t drive you too crazy.” I squeeze her hand when she pulls away.

  “No. I don’t think my husband could say the same, though. I’m pretty sure mine hates yours, considering how I go on about how wonderful he is.” She laughs. “Lady, you hit the jackpot with that one! I think he has to be the most loving and attentive guy I’ve ever met! Your girls are lovely, too! Real sweethearts. Give my best to your family, and when you’re up for it, come down for a visit. And bring those babies!” She smiles and pats the top of my hand with her free one.

  “Thanks again, Jen.” I smile and release her hands, then watch as she leaves the room. So much for waking up without any confusion. I close my eyes and try my hardest to remember Ray and me getting married. Nothing. Ugh! I don’t think we are. Grayson would’ve told me—I’m sure of that!

  I stare out the window, watching the snow fall. It’s been several hours since I left Grayson. I’ve wept off and on. But mostly, I’ve thought about everything he said to me. Feeling exhausted, I close my eyes again to rest.

  “Becca, baby?” Elise pats my hand. I open my eyes to find her and Artie.

  “Hi ... I must have dozed off. Where are the girls?” I ask with a slight smile. Elise just stares at me. Tears start streaming down her face. “Mama, I’m fine.” I grab her hand. “I do have a question, though.”

  “Ask away, darlin’.” She sits next to me and clasps my hand with both of hers.

  “Ray and I ... are we married?” I whisper.

  “You oughta be!” She gives me The Look. “But no. You’re on his insurance plan and he put you down as ‘McNeil,’ and I don’t blame him. Now, how’s my grandbabies?” She rubs my belly.

  “Good, from what I hear.” I lean back and smile.

  “You gonna let my son make an honest woman outta ya?” She lifts an eyebrow.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I nod.

  “Good.” She pats my hand.

  “Where are Morgan and Annie?”

  “Oh, baby, I’m sorry. We didn’t get the call ‘til we were on our way down. Raymond’s been admitted, by the way. Boy, is he mad!” She shakes her head.

  “Well, he needs to rest. I get to leave tomorrow,” I say with excitement.

  “Damn insurances and their drive-through policies! I don’t like how they jus’ push folks out,” she says disapprovingly. “Nonetheless, they’re gonna be so happy to see you!”

  “I can’t wait to see my girls!” I’m sure if my smile got any bigger, it could swallow my face.

  “Derek, I have some things I need to tell you,” I say once we get settled into my truck.

  “What’s that, Becca?” he asks. It’s funny hearing him with an English accent again.

  “You’re the first person I’m telling this to.” I take in a deep breath.

  “What is it, Becca?” He takes a sip of his coffee.

  “These past three months, I’ve been with Grayson.” I grab the wheel as Derek spits his coffee out everywhere, causing him to swerve. “Sorry.” I wince. “Probably should’ve told you this before we got on the road.”

  “Becca, I don’t know what to tell you ... I don’t know what to say.” He seems pretty uncomfortable—not a suit this beast of a man usually wears.

  “Well, mate, I’ll give you the editor’s cut.” And that’s just what I do. Well, the G-rated version, at least. No need for Derek to think me a dirty whore!

  “I believe you, Becca,” he says when I get toward the end. That took up half of our trip.

  “Can I ask you how you’ve come to believe me?” Honestly, I don’t think I would believe me if I were him. There’s no aha part of my adventure that involves him where I could say, Well, how would I know that, then?

  “Because, the way you are telling the story and talking,” he glances over at me. “I haven’t heard you speak that way in over seven years. You’ve been around my best mate, all right!” He laughs and I see tears spring from the corner of his eyes.

  “You were always his ‘right-hand man,’ Derek. He trusted you with his life. He told me to thank you for standing by and looking out for Morgan and me. We both thank you.” I squeeze his arm. “He feels honored that you gave Jasper his name and he said he’ll always look after him. He said you’re still his best mate—you always will be.” I hand him a tissue. Derek is so verklempt, he can’t say anything. I stare at this huge, six-foot-something, fierce-looking black man and giggle. He shoots me a look and tries to pull it together. “Oh, Derek, I’m not laughing at you! I’m thinking about when I first met you in my ‘other state.’ I could see this big teddy bear of a family man in there even though you looked as if you would stomp on anyone who approached you.” I unbuckle so I can propel myself to plant a big ole kiss on his cheek. “I love ya, mate!”

  “Buckle up, Becca. Ray will have my arse if anything happens to you on the way home.” He tries to be stern, but can’t contain his smile. “You never were afraid of me! Gave me a what for the first time I ever actually met you! I knew at that moment, I was either going to be the best man at your wedding or I’d be bailing Grayson out of jail for stalking you!” He laughs. I join in, thinking about that day out in the Barnes & Noble parking lot. “I wish we could get those days back, Becca.” He frowns.

  “They were good ... once we got past the whole tag-team-stalking bit.” I smack his arm.

  “Well, you know, good friends never let friends drink and drive ... best friends never let you stalk alone.”

  “Derek, that’s awful! Don’t think you will get a bumper sticker deal out of that one!” I laugh.

  “Oh well, someday I’ll come up with a doozy!” He shrugs.

  “Oh, they are doozies, all right!” I tease. Derek has a very long history of trying to come up with a phrase that will become popular on a catastrophic level. Grayson and I always teased him about it.

  “You know, Bec ... Grayson’s right, Ray is a great guy.” He gives me a sideways glance this time, as there is traffic by Exit 3 on Route 93 North in Windham, New Hampshire.

  “I know he is. I’ve always known that. It’s just nice to have my memory back. I felt so much guilt over our relationship, for feeling the way I did about another man, I just completely blocked it all out. Honestly, I don’t know how Ray could’ve stayed with me all of these years. I plan to make it all worthwhile for him ... thanks to Grayson.” I half smile, feeling a pang in my heart for Gray.

  “It’s hard to believe that Grayson didn’t have a hard time with all of this.” He sighs.

&n
bsp; “Oh, he did! For two months he got swallowed up by the delusion. He was very jealous, but in the end, he did what he came to do. My happiness was more important.” I stare out the window at the construction vehicles working at widening the road.

  “It always was, Becs.” He slaps my knee.

  “Becs? Uh-oh ... do I detect a bromance brewing?” I tease him.

  “Yes, I’ve fallen victim to the epidemic of calling you ‘Becs,’ and yes, Ray and I have hung out quite a bit.” He laughs.

  “Have you gotten him to lighten up on his ‘secret’ hatred of Grayson?”

  “Ugh, finally!” Derek sighs and speeds up as the traffic clears. He looks over at me. “Yeah, I think I have a bit. I don’t know, Becca, but in a weird way, he reminds me of Grayson.” He shakes his head, as if he’s trying to figure it out.

  “I totally agree! They’re so different in so many ways, but the same, too. Grayson thinks they would’ve been great mates—if you take me out of the equation, obviously.” I grab my phone when I hear the ping of a text.

  December 27, 2012 11:53 a.m.

  Ray: Are you on your way home, baby?

  Me: Yes. Halfway home. Having a great laugh with Derek. How r u feeling?

  Ray: Good! Wish I was bringing u home! The truth?

  Me: Yes.

  Ray: Like shit, babe :(

  Me: Ahem ...

  Ray: Do I detect an “I told you so” in there?

  Me: No ... not me ;-p

  Ray: U r a terrible liar, babe!

  Me: I know. When will u b home?

  Ray: Few days. Stuff is starting to come up now, which is good.

  Me: Things tend to always come up with you.

  Ray: Yeah, no problem in that dept., huh, babe? ;-p

  Me: Apparently not ...

  Ray: Becs?

  Me: Rays?

  Ray: LOL ... okay, just making sure

  Me: Of?

  Ray: Delayed reaction or anger really.

  Me: No. But we do need to talk. I want to do it in person.

  Ray: Yeah, I don’t like doing “it” on the phone ... definitely better in person ☺

  Me: Not in the mood for sexual banter.

  Ray: Uh ... sorry. Were you not doing the same thing a minute ago?