Forever My Girl (The Beaumont Series)

road and the looming sun threatening to rears its ugly head for yet another day of bullshit.
    I’m shocked when I hit the Beaumont line. Well, not really. I’ve been thinking about this town non-stop since I learned about Mason. The town is quiet, wrought iron lights lighting the path through the streets.
    Nothing has changed.
    I slow down as I make my way through town. Turn left, turn right and end up on the street I grew up on. When I stop in front of my childhood home, one light on outside and one on inside, I know my dad’s awake.
    Nothing has changed.
    The two-story white house with the red door is the same. No cars in the driveway, lawn manicured to perfection. My room is dark and I wonder what they did with it. Are my pictures still lining the hallway or did those come down when I betrayed them in the worse way? What will they say when their defiant son knocks on the door and wants to stay for dinner?
    I drive two blocks down and one over and stop in front of the Preston house. I’m not a fool to think she still lives here, but I know she wouldn’t miss this unless she and Katelyn are no longer friends.
    The porch light flips on and the door opens. Mr. Preston, the man who was to be my father-in-law, steps out onto the porch. I know he can’t see me through my darkened helmet, but maybe he’s wondering.
    He stands there and stares at me and I at him. He’s aged, just like I’m assuming my father has. He steps down onto the grass and that’s my cue to go. I hit the throttle and take off down the street, leaving Mr. Preston in his yard wondering.
     

CHAPTER 4
    JOSIE
     
    I pull into the driveway of Katelyn and Mason’s modest ranch home, matching pink tricycles sitting in the yard. I can’t bring myself to get out of the car. It’s like accepting the inevitable. I know nothing will bring back Mason or change what has happened, but maybe I can prolong it just a little bit longer.
    “Aunt Joey what are you doing?” I jump at the little voice that snuck up on me. Peyton is staring at me, standing by the passenger side of the car. Her dark curly hair is in pigtails tied with ribbons and her toothless grin lights my day.
    “Nothing, sweetie, just thinking,” I say as I get out of the car and walk around to where she’s standing. She’s in her Sunday football jersey and sweatpants and has a football tucked under her arm. She’s every bit Mason.
    “Where’s Noah?”
    “He’s at school.”
    Her face falls as she looks down at the ground. Her little sneaker-clad foot starts swinging back and forth. “Mama says we don’t have to go to school until after.” Her voice trails off.
    I fight back the tears as my heart breaks for her and her sister. They only got five years with their dad and will only remember one if they’re lucky. I bend down in front of her and wipe a stray tear off her cheek. “Noah can come over after school before he goes to practice, okay?”
    She nods and I bring her into my arms, carrying her into her once-happy home.
    This is my first time in the Powell home since the night we got the call. I came over here to stay with the girls while Katelyn was in the hospital waiting for a sign that Mason was going to make it. I paced the floor, the same floor they paced when the girls had colds or the flu and kept them up at night.
    The same floor that Mason dumped a plate full of chicken when he tripped over the bag of footballs he forgot to put away after practice. Katelyn and I laughed so hard. When he stood up Mason had chicken grease all over his face. One look from him and Katelyn knew he was coming after her.
    I set Peyton down and kiss her on the forehead. I don’t even know how to comfort her and her sister, let alone her mom.
    “Where’s your sister?” I ask.
    Peyton shrugs. “With mama, I guess.”
    “Aunt Joey who is going to watch football with me now?” her voice breaks as she asks the simplest question of all.
    Usually I have an answer for everything, but when I look into her eyes I don’t know what to say to her because there isn’t an answer. It could be me one week or Mr. Powell, but it will never be Mason. He was her football buddy and she his.
    “I’m sure Nick would love to and even Noah. Maybe your Grandpa can come over on Sundays.”
    “It’s not the same,” she whispers before leaving me in the middle of the room surrounded by nothing but memories, once in a lifetime moments captured by a real life lens and frozen in the past. And sometimes