Past Heaven Read online

“Joey called Keith last night. He wanted me to tell you, chicken shit lawyer that he is, that the proceeds of the life insurance policy will be gone by the end of the year. I stopped by to break it to you that you needed to look for a job. But it appears that issue has been resolved.” She stood up and kissed the top of my head. “You need to do this, Liz. You need the money, and you’ll regret not taking the chance. You’re ready for this. I know you are.”

  She let herself out, and I cleaned up her salsa and chips mess. She was right. I did need this. If it became too much, I would end the project, but I wanted to push myself and give it a chance. Once I wrapped my brain around the idea that I could keep Jack’s memory alive, I couldn’t let it go.

  “Hey Liz!” Reynolds answered after the first ring. “Whaddya say, are you ready to take a chance with me?” I could hear his excitement through the phone, and I relaxed for the first time since seeing him the day before.

  “Yes.” A huge grin spread across my face, and I bit my lip to hold in the excitement. “I’m willing to give it a try.” I managed to get the words out in a jumble. My stomach was knotted with nerves.

  “Holy shit! Wait a minute, you’ll help me tell Jack’s story?”

  A small laughed escaped me. He sounded so thrilled to be doing this. His enthusiasm gave me hope that our working together would go smoothly. “We have a lot to figure out still, but yes,” I took a breath before continuing. “If you’ll put into the contract that I have veto power over anything that would be untrue or upsetting to my family, then yes I would love for you to tell Jack’s story.”

  “Give me your email address, and I’ll send you the contract as soon as I get it from my attorney. Do you have a lawyer that can look at it for you?”

  “Yes, I’ve been working with a wills and estates lawyer. I’ll ask him to read it for me.” Joey Powell was Cindy’s husband, Keith’s, cousin. He had helped me when Jack passed away. Joey’s firm was small, but I trusted him to look out for my best interests. I recited my email to Reynolds and pressed my hand against my now flat stomach.

  “Great. This is going to work. I know it. Can I come over tomorrow morning to start our work?”

  “Sure. I’ll see you then.” I disconnected the call and hung my head between my knees. I was going to pass out. Holy crap. What had I just agreed to? Reynolds Carter. The Reynolds Carter. OMG. Reynolds Carter was going to be working with me. At that moment, I felt genuine excitement. Almost a year had passed since I had felt that thrill running through me. The time had come to get over the fear and embrace a new opportunity. I only wished I knew for sure if Jack would have agreed with me.

  “DAD, MY PROJECT is happening!” Sitting in the backseat of my SUV, I waited for Liz. We hadn’t set a time to meet today. In my excitement, I forgot to ask. I assumed she was running, so I called my dad to pass the time.

  “Great news, Reynolds. I’m happy for you.” Dad had been on board with this project since I first filled him and mom in on it.

  “As soon as I read about Jack Atwater, I knew this was my story. I’m telling you, Dad, people in the industry will go nuts for this screenplay.” Every day the news that I read featured stories on drug dealers, corrupt politicians, and page after page of Hollywood gossip. The movies I acted in were shallow and superficial. Now I had a chance to introduce people, across a widespread platform, to a story they didn’t know, but one they should.

  “And Elizabeth? His wife agreed? I know you were concerned.”

  “It took some convincing, but she did. If this could become a successful movie, her family would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. That would be a great gift to leave her and her kids.”

  “It would be an amazing gift, son.”

  Dad and I talked for a few more minutes when I noticed Liz jogging up the length of her driveway. I ended our call and hopped out of the SUV.

  Liz’s neighborhood was picture-perfect. Traditional single-family homes were spread apart on large acre lots. Every house had a basketball hoop in the driveway, and most hung American flags. It was a warm, country-loving, family-first place.

  I was totally out of my element.

  “Hi, I’m sorry. I’m early.” I smiled and watched as she placed her hands on her knees, panting and trying to catch her breath.

  “I realized half-way through my run that we hadn’t set a time. I worried you would be here, waiting on me, so I sprinted back.” She took in a heaving breath and straightened. “Come in.”

  Following her into the house, she offered me a cold bottle of water and opened one for herself. The woman I had seen in the pictures from my research looked worn and aged with grief. The woman who stood in front of me, wearing sweat-stained and tight running gear, appeared to be healing. She looked younger, less harsh, and in extraordinary shape. I couldn’t help but notice that there wasn’t an ounce of fat on her. She wasn’t stick-thin like Kylie. She was strong with toned arms, flat abs, and great legs. Really great legs.

  Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she had no makeup on, but her skin glowed, still pink from her run. The biggest shock, though, was her eyes. They were deep brown and sparkled with youthfulness as she spoke, but they were also hauntingly soulful.

  She was sexy. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Not in the way I was used to, but in a natural, full of life kind of way. None of that mattered, however. I was done with women, and I sure as hell wasn’t interested in anything with a woman I was working with, ever again. No more mixing business with pleasure.

  “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to take a quick shower.” Liz said, fidgeting with the cap on her water bottle.

  “Take your time. I’m fine.” I pulled my laptop out of my messenger bag as Liz walked upstairs. I re-read the contract my attorney had emailed, pleased that everything looked in order. Fucking lawyers always had a way of making everything complicated, but I had given clear instructions. Nothing long, nothing complex, and no words a fifth grader couldn’t spell. I wanted this to happen, and I wasn’t going to let a contract get in the way.

  I glanced around the room. No matter how much I wanted to focus on the contract, I just had to get up and look around. A need to understand this woman, and Jack, consumed me. The layout wasn’t unusual for a suburban house, but the energy was different. It was a home. I peered out the kitchen window into the backyard. A warm smile spread on my face, and I chuckled. Of course, they would have the biggest play set I’d ever seen and several soccer goals. I walked to the family room. A large sectional filled the space, marked by numerous stains, and littered with remotes and gaming handsets. Framed art, made by her children, hung on the walls. Reaching out, I lightly touched the paintings with my fingertips. The art was imperfect, flawed, and messy. But it was treasured. Coveted. Loved.

  Family photos and school pictures of the boys filled every free surface. I walked around to each picture, studying them while rubbing my fingers along the stubble on my jaw. Most pictures had Jack in them. Snapshots of vacations and holidays showed a happy family. Kylie and I had never hung one framed photograph of us like that. We had headshots and formal portraits, but nothing casual. Nothing real.

  “That was our family vacation to Disney World.” Liz stood next to me, pointing to a picture. She had changed into a pair of tight jeans and a long, white T-shirt. “I think Jack was more excited than the kids to go.”

  “You all look pretty darn happy.” I pointed to a picture of the three boys and Jack on a soccer field. “Good looking boys.”

  “Thanks.” Liz’s voice softened, and she rubbed her neck.

  “That’s Jack?” A man stood with one child sitting atop his shoulders, the other two pressed up against his sides, hands clasped in his. Liz’s body quivered and she nodded.

  Liz turned and walked back into the kitchen without another word. “Hungry?” she asked as she opened the refrigerator door and pulled out containers of food.

  “You don’t have to feed me. I’m fine. We can order lunch if you’re hungry.
” I walked back into the kitchen, rubbing my hands together. “I’m so ready to get started, I’m not sure I could eat.” I leaned against the counter top, and she moved past me, grabbing a bowl from a drawer. Damn, she smelled good. I inhaled and tried to place it. The scent was familiar, comforting, and natural. I was used to smelling Kylie doused in expensive lotions and artificial perfumes.

  She met my eyes as she pulled out a cutting board. “If we’re going to be working together on this project, you have to understand something about me. I’m a feeder. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than feeding and taking care of people. I won’t be ordering us lunch. That driveway hasn’t seen a delivery car in years. Is chicken salad okay? I make a mean chicken salad. If you’re anxious to get started, I can talk while I cook. Does that work?” She spoke rapidly, a warm smile making her eyes sparkle.

  I chuckled as I sat back down at the table. “So you’re not only going to help write this screenplay, you’re feeding me, too? Sweet deal.”

  “I’m used to cooking for three growing boys. This is what I do. So yes, you should be prepared to go back to Hollywood with a few extra pounds on you.” Liz pulled out a knife from a drawer as she took a deep breath. “Should I start from the beginning? I don’t want to bore you, but I also want you to get the whole story.”

  Her hands trembled and her voice shook. She stared at the knife lost in thought as she set it down on the cutting board. Shit. This wasn’t going to be easy on her. I hadn’t thought that part through. But she wouldn’t have agreed to do this if it was a problem, right? Anyway, we were doing this for a greater cause. I needed Jack’s entire story if this was going to work.

  “I know this will be hard on you, but I’d really like to start at the beginning.” Liz nodded and picked the knife back up. “How did you and Jack meet?”

  “I MET JACK during freshmen orientation at the University of Maryland.” The images flooded over me, and an ache in my heart strangled me. I laid the chicken breasts on the cutting board and diced the meat with precision. “He was the most enthusiastic student I had ever seen. Everyone was excited to be away from home and have a taste of freedom, but Jack was different. He seemed ecstatic to be alive.” Tears dampened my eyes. “It was infectious. I looked forward to bumping into him around the dorms or at the library. His presence would instantly put me in a better mood. He was that kind of guy.” I smiled at the memory and sighed, setting the knife down and staring out the window. What I wouldn’t give to go back in time and see him like that again.

  I blew out a deep breath and released the emotion. “I realized right away that we shared several classes. I’d sit near him and listen to his conversations with others, hanging on his every word. I was mesmerized by his thirst for knowledge and hunger for life. Not to mention, he was the absolute cutest guy in the room.”

  I couldn’t keep the smirk off my face at that memory of Jack. I glanced over at Reynolds, and he smiled, his eyes soft, and kind. A strange sense of confidence came over me to continue. “I was assigned to lead a discussion on siblings in our speech class. I told the story of my brother and afterward, we had a question and answer session. This topic was actually quite near and dear to me. See, my brother, David, was born with intellectual and developmental disabilities. Many people in our society know it as mental retardation. Anyway, David is the sweetest little brother I could imagine, but not everyone can see beyond his disability. I gave my talk on the way I felt when I watched him get picked on, heard him called names, or saw strangers point and stare.” I shook my head, recalling those hurtful moments. “Jack was engrossed in my presentation and asked a thousand questions during the class. Afterward, he asked me out for coffee.”

  A slow smile stretched across my face. “That was our first date. Jack wanted to get to know me. He wondered what it was like to grow up with a baby brother who could never lead a ‘normal’ life. I had never met anyone who cared about what my life was like as a sibling of someone with a disability. I fell in love fast.” For a moment, I was back in that coffee shop, sitting across from Jack. My memories could never do justice to the way he had made me feel that day. I had always felt special when I was with Jack. As outgoing as he was, I was introverted. We complemented each other and became the best of friends. Eventually, we became lovers.

  “We spent the next four years of college in a serious relationship. Once I fell in love with Jack, there was no going back. He loved me deeply, and I loved him with my whole heart.” I stopped dicing celery and wiped the tears running down my cheeks.

  Reynolds walked over, handing me a tissue. “Let’s take a break. This is tough to talk about.” He then placed his hand on my upper arm, but I flinched at his touch, stepping away. Having a man touch me felt foreign. Reynolds rubbed his hands together and looked around the kitchen as if he was lost or uncomfortable.

  I’m such a jerk. I squeezed my hands together. “No, I need to do this. I need to tell you all about him. Really get you to understand him to the core. As we dated and fell in love, Jack fell in love with my family, too. He came home with me on breaks and talked to David and his friends, who were always at our home. David called Jack his ‘real brother’, and Jack felt the same about their relationship.” I made a mental note to reach out to David. I’d been so wrapped up in my own loss and that of the boys that I had forgotten that my brother also lost Jack.

  I shook my head clear of more guilty thoughts and refocused. “Jack also spent a lot of time talking to my parents about David’s future. My father had explained to Jack that when David was born, he and my mother had started a trust fund for him. He would be taken care of in old age and would hopefully find a placement in a group home when he was twenty-one. Sadly, many of David’s friends wouldn’t be as lucky. Their parents weren’t as financially well off, and there weren’t enough homes for everyone who needed them. Some would end up in a state-run institution.”

  Reynolds leaned over the counter and grabbed a potato chip from the bowl I was filling. “I don’t know much about the institutions, other than what I researched online. What I read was unbelievable.”

  I nodded, grinding salt and pepper over the chicken, celery, and mayonnaise. “Your worst nightmares wouldn’t do these places justice. The stories of abuse and neglect are too numerous to tell. Jack’s senior sociology project was an in-depth report on one of the state institutions. I’ll never forget the day he came home from visiting the place. At that point, we were living together. He came in the door with disgust-filled eyes, and went to the bathroom to vomit. After he showered, he was finally able to tell me some of the horrors he had witnessed there.”

  Pulling the plates from the cupboard, I served lunch and grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge. I set everything on the table and took my seat. Reynolds looked at me as if I was from another planet. I checked myself. I didn’t smell like a locker room. “Do I have something on my face?” I couldn’t believe I just asked that, but oddly, I felt comfortable around him. As long as he didn’t touch me, of course.

  “No.” He chuckled and grabbed his fork. “I don’t recall anyone ever making me chicken salad before. Thank you. This is nice.”

  I shifted in my seat. I wasn’t here to be nice. I was simply being hospitable. I needed to work and this was just a job. I smiled and chose to be normal this time. “You’re welcome. Enjoy.”

  We ate in silence and I was grateful. I needed a break from reliving the memories and ripping open the unhealed wound. As I reached my last bite and Reynolds wiped his mouth, I knew my time was up.

  “That night when we laid in bed, he told me that after graduation he was dedicating his life to working to help people with disabilities. His mission was to close down the institutions.” I paused, looking out the window. “Before that, I had thought Jack was a devoted boyfriend who wanted to make my brother a part of his life. But after hearing his revelation, I realized it was his calling.

  “After graduating, we got married in the fall. It was a beautiful, but simple,
ceremony during my favorite time of year. Shortly after, I became a social worker while Jack found an entry-level position at a local agency that supported individuals with developmental and intellectual disabilities. He held almost every job there. He even swept the floors after everyone was gone because he wanted to make sure that those served by the agency came to a pristine place.” I sat at the table, resting my face on my hand as I recalled the bittersweet memories. “He loved every minute of it. Neither one of us made much money, so we waited almost seven years before we had Griff. By that time, Jack was next in line to head the Warren agency, and I was able to stay home to raise our kids.” I drank from my water bottle as Reynolds caught up with his typing.

  “Liz, that’s astonishing. Jack dedicated everything to this cause. The world needs more people that care about something as much as Jack cared about this. He sounds wonderful.” Reynolds’ look of admiration was resolute, and I smiled. He didn’t know the half of it.

  I leaned back in my chair and continued talking. “The next couple of years were the best of my life. I stayed home and cared for our sons while Jack worked with state legislators and various agencies to start the process of closing the institutions and finding placements for everyone who needed them. Even though he worked long hours, I also want to make sure we include the kind of father he was. It’s really important to me that people understand that part of Jack’s life as well.” I drew in a shaky breath as tears leaked out from the corners of my eyes.

  “Of course, we’ll make sure that is crystal clear.” Reynolds grabbed my hand and squeezed. I pulled it out of his grasp and grabbed our empty plates. I pushed away from the table and pinched my eyes closed after I turned my back for a moment. He must think I’m such a cold bitch. And he wouldn’t be wrong, if he did.

  I was empty inside. I refused any tenderness because I couldn’t give any in return. Any love I had left went to the boys. My feelings no longer mattered, but preserving Jack’s memory did. Reynolds hung his head as he rubbed his hand on his pant leg. Yes, he definitely thinks I’m a bitch. I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand.