Hold Close the Memory

By Heather Graham

Can two people stay loyal to each other against all odds? The night before thirty-two-year-old Kim Trent moves in with Keith Norman, her world turns upside down. After twelve difficult years raising her twin boys alone, Susan’s former husband Brian, the man the military had told her was dead, suddenly reappears, ready to resume their life together. Now, Keith and Brian are demanding that Kim make a choice, but she needs time, and time is running out . . .  This ebook features an illustrated biography of Heather Graham including rare photos from the author’s personal collection. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Media
• Release date: Apr 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781480408357

Heather Graham

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Heather Graham has written more than a hundred novels. She's a winner of the RWA's Lifetime Achievement Award, and the Thriller Writers' Silver Bullet. She is an active member of International Thriller Writers and Mystery Writers of America. For more information, check out her websites: TheOriginalHeatherGraham.com, eHeatherGraham.com, and HeatherGraham.tv. You can also find Heather on Facebook.

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Hold Close the Memory

Heather Graham

For my Warwick cousins,

Richard, Donna, Brent, and

Kim Astrella, with love

Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

EPILOGUE

A Biography of Heather Graham

PROLOGUE

IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL wedding.

Even the weather, which was usually hot and humid, dark and brooding during the late summer season, had altered for the day. The sky was a crystal clear blue; soft breezes alleviated the glow of the golden late-afternoon sun.

It is said that all brides are beautiful, none more so than the girl who walked down the outdoor aisle of orchids and ivy, her eyes shimmering like true amber beneath the gauze of her veil. The love theme from Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet was played softly on the organ, and there were few in the assembled multitude who did not draw in their breaths, for surely the young couple joining here today were no less lovely, no less blessed, than the fabled star-crossed lovers might have been. She was just eighteen, her skin as perfect as alabaster, tanned golden by the sun. Beneath the Empire gown, studded with pearls lovingly sewn into the fabric night after night by her own hands, she was slender yet beautifully, ripely curved, glowing with youth, with vibrancy. With the small tiara of pearls on her head, she might have been a princess, regal, lithe, her smile no less a touch of gold than the burnished copper of her hair, flowing in thick, glossy curls beneath the gauze and lace veil contending with the sun for sheer splendor.

Some of the guests might have shaken their heads knowingly because such youthful marriages were usually doomed. But one sight of the groom was enough to quell such thoughts. He was nineteen, one year older than the bride, yet there was a shocking maturity in his sharp blue eyes, eyes that were as vast as the sky, as deep as the ocean. There was a strength of character to his handsome features, a certain set of his jaw, a squareness of his chin that belied his youth. One might well think that from when he could first talk, Brian Trent had been able to say, This is what I want, know it for fact, and move with determination and confidence to obtain it.

That assurance was with the groom as he greeted his bride, taking her hand from her father’s. The men in attendance were suddenly clearing their throats; the women were sniffling back tears. The bride and groom had written their own ceremony, and even those who had expected some kind of hippie wedding were surprised by the simple beauty of the vows and the young people who exchanged them.

The reception might have been an occasion for explosive arguments about politics since feelings ran high and the generation gap was indeed wide. Nixon sat in the Oval Office; the war that was not a war in Vietnam was dragging on despite all promises of withdrawal, and the tragedy of Kent State was not far behind. There were those who believed that the United States was the power responsible for saving the world, and there were those, the young people especially, who were vehemently antiwar and anti-Nixon and in general antiestablishment.

Instead, the party ran smoothly, for Brian Trent had effectively bridged the two generations with music. One band played the music of the Beatles, the Stones, and the Grateful Dead—and the bridesmaids quickly scandalized their parents by changing their summer flowered gowns to flashy hot pants—while another combo played waltzes and fox-trots and soothing melodies in the Sinatra tradition.

All went amazingly well.

Most pleased of the older generation was the bride’s father. Queried by friends about the wisdom of allowing his daughter to marry so young, he merely grinned and asked how he might have stopped his determined eighteen-year-old daughter. And he was impressed by the boy who had been equally determined to have his daughter.

Brian Trent had prepared well for marriage. He had spent the past two summers working with a construction company more than fifty hours a week to put a respectable down payment on a house near the university campus both he and the bride would attend in the fall. He had student jobs lined up for both of them, providing them with an income and time to study.

In this tumultuous era Robert Thielson was glad to have his too beautiful and spirited daughter married to this unique young man. Brian would keep Kim out of the trouble that impressionable girls, moving from childhood to adulthood, could easily fall into. Robert knew that drugs pervaded the schools, that morals were lax, that even the best-intended radical actions often turned, to tragedies, destroying a young person’s future.

Robert saw his wife across the field of rented tables and chairs and smiled, because they both had agreed that this marriage was right for Kim. Yes, he was glad Kim had married Brian. He had the strength to handle her temper, the love to guide her. He was gifted with maturity; he was wise and responsible well beyond his years.

Where other youths ranted and raved, Brian spoke quietly, making his points. He was a striking young man: bronzed and well muscled from physical labor, ruggedly handsome for his age, like a sun-god with his blond hair and well-arched brows over those extraordinarily deep and knowledgeable eyes. He was the rage of all the high school girls, but he had never shown the least interest in being anything other than friendly with any of them; he had decided on Kim for his own, and despite all opportunity, he was simply oblivious to other girls.

Of course, Robert reflected, Kim herself was a bit special. It shocked him sometimes to realize that he had fathered such a creature. She was as sharp as a whip, sweetly loving, usually responsible, yet lovely beyond the bounds of imagination with her soft amber eyes, exquisitely chiseled, delicate, yet strong features, lush, lush waves of chestnut auburn hair…and too seductive form. Robert breathed a sigh, remembering their battle over her first bikini. Thank God his new son-in-law, the young Adonis, could now worry about her, saving him from a father’s dilemma of paternal pride and gut-wrenching, protective fear.

He smiled again as he saw the young couple glancing at each other over the top of someone’s grandmother’s head. He could see the messages of their wanting to leave to be alone crossing with static electricity between them.

They left to a shower of rice and a young girl singing a romantic ballad of young love beginning.

Everyone agreed they were beautiful young people—a god and a goddess—and it was a marriage made in heaven.

Of course, it wasn’t a marriage made in heaven. She had her temper; he had his. There were adjustments to be made as they set up housekeeping, learned to live together, learned to adapt to the rough life of college students, learned new responsibilities.

There were new people to meet in college, new enticements. She was more impressionable than he, and in turn, he became more serious, more demanding. She was informed curtly he would either (A) break her neck or (B) create blisters on her rear end if he discovered her messing around. She was indignant; she had never messed around.

But there were the good times, too. He believed fervently in her mind, in their futures. And she adored him. Every time they argued, they made up in bed, and every time they lay together, they discovered more of each other, more of the rapturous beauty that flamed between them.

In general it was just as Kim’s father had expected—a good marriage, a sound marriage. Brian Trent knew how to manage finances; he could work like a beaver. And he knew how to control the beautiful wife who went limp in his arms, then became a creature of sweetest, wildest passion.

Shortly after the first year of marriage the first setback hit them. She found that despite their precautions, she was pregnant, and she was shocked. Her education and the world still lay before her. She was not ready to be tied down. She was only nineteen years old. It was impossible, despite her love, despite her own beliefs, not to play with the idea of abortion.

When she told Brian, she had never seen him angrier. He wouldn’t even listen. He was so explosive that she, never one to give up an argument until her case was stated, choked back her words. By the evening’s end he had convinced her that despite the problems that would arise, they would manage. Brian would always manage. He had pointed out that she would never forgive herself if she made that choice. And he was right because deep inside she knew that they had already created life.

That was only the beginning of the end of paradise. As he worked out new schedules for sharing this new responsibility, reminding her that he was their main support, a year ahead in his studies and she was going to have to accept being a mother, things beyond their power were changing in the world. A lottery for the military draft went into effect and student deferments no longer meant anything.

Brian Trent’s number was low—too low. He was called during Kim’s fourth month of pregnancy. Rather than be drafted into the Army, Brian enlisted in the Air Force. She cried; she ranted; she raved; she pleaded. She couldn’t handle it alone; she was pregnant. But Brian was firm, even though he didn’t want to go.

And he wouldn’t run to Canada. It wasn’t just the two of them anymore to suffer the possible repercussions. They were going to have a child, and now, whether he agreed or disagreed with the country’s policies, he had no intention of becoming a runaway, a draft dodger. Brian would do nothing illegal. He didn’t think he could have run anyway; he knew that he definitely couldn’t when he was about to become a father.

Brian came back after basic training, his golden head shorn, to attend childbirth classes with Kim. She talked about school, and Brian tried to speak lightly about the Air Force, saying that at least the military would now make the hospital bills almost negligible. Then they forgot about school, finances, and the future and spent their time together making love with rigor, and tenderness, and finally the tempest born of desperation because Brian had been assigned to go to Vietnam.

She didn’t know how he managed to get home for the birth of the twins, but he was there, loving her, talking to her, soothing her way through the surprise which had gone undetected. As the boys were born, she laughed because there were two and so healthy. She and Brian were thrilled, and then she cried because she was so happy and because she thought of what she had almost done.

Brian came home once more. He was incredibly proud of her, shaking his head with admiration as she explained that it was easy to nurse both boys.

They bickered about little things during his leave, but the bickering was born of tension. The more serious fights of their first year were over; they felt now like an old married couple, past their second anniversary. Combined with the year and a half they had spent dating, they had been together forever and would always be.

Kim was certain of that because to her Brian was the sun. There was no one like him. Even now, after all their time together, the birth of the twins, everything—all he had to do was come near her, and she would feel his unique heat, the power that was Brian. He could merely look at her with eyes that radiated the strength of the sun, touch her with hands made strong by physical indomitability, and she would begin to quiver, feeling heat explode inside her. She vaguely told herself that she allowed him to be the dominant partner in their marriage, but that wasn’t really truth: It had nothing to do with her allowing him. Brian was dominant; in a mass of people he would stand out, as surely as the sun.

During his short stay with her they cherished the times that the twins slept. They spent all of it making love, and each time they made love, the sun burst inside her. Without Brian, without the sun, she would surely die.

Before the elections of 1972 Richard Nixon promised that the U.S. involvement in Vietnam would end. American troops would be withdrawn. The peace talks in Paris continued. By late March of the following year the full-scale and disastrous flight from Saigon would take place when North Vietnam began a heavy rocket and artillery attack against the city despite the promised American withdrawal already under way.

But March 1973 meant little to Kim because in December 1972 a soldier had come to her door. He was a young man her own age who swallowed as tears filled his eyes while he tried to speak to her with proper military dignity. She had to read the paper, and only a few words registered in her mind. Brian Trent…Missing in action; believed dead.

Believed dead! What the hell did that mean? She laughed and cried and then laughed so hard that the young soldier worried that she had completely lost her mind.

Worried about her mental stability, her mother came to stay with her.

The evacuation from Saigon came and went. Prisoners of war were exchanged and released, but several thousand American men could not be accounted for and were listed among the missing in action.

She joined MIA groups. She wrote letters, she attended marches and rallies, but then came the day in late 1975 that another soldier appeared at her door. This time the message was more precise, more final. The government of the United States of America regrets to inform you…

She screamed, and the world went dark.

The sun was gone.

And although she wanted to, she didn’t die.

It would be a full year before she would accept what had happened. But she had the twins, and she had to pull herself together to survive.

After a year of touching nothing, leaving the house, which she discovered to her amazement Brian had managed to pay off, exactly as if he might return at any given second, she made a complete turnabout.

She put away everything: the high school mementos; snapshots, the wedding pictures; Brian grinning his beautiful grin and holding both infant twins; his books; his coin collection; the flag the government had given her when it had returned him in a box that couldn’t be opened because the remains were so charred and decomposed that only his dog tags had identified him.

As she buried her heart with the pine box, she buried her youth and her past in the attic, where she stayed for hours that day. And for all those hours she cried again until she was exhausted and drained.

Then she left the attic because the twins would be waking up. Her sons, who meant so much to her now, were a reason not just for living but for surviving, for fighting. She had an education to get back to if she wished to survive and fight, and she couldn’t accept any more from her parents or Brian’s. She would manage; she would make it.

She closed the attic door behind her, and locked away a part of her heart and her soul. She locked away the sun. And she went out to learn how to live again.

CHAPTER ONE

KIM TRENT INHALED DEEPLY, exhaled, and slowly crushed out her cigarette. She drained the last sip from her coffee mug, stood and stretched, and placed the mug in the sink. Through the overpass to the patio she could see the boys playing

Reviews for Hold Close the Memory

[rkaye · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

I really wish I’d never read this. He was such a hypocrite! This book is riddled with double standards and it’s just sad the author hated her heroine so much that she chose the ending she did. I hoped for something better for the heroine but maybe Ms. graham thought she hadn’t suffered enough....

[gpangel_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Hold Close the Memory was originally published in the mid eighties. Open Road Media has released the book in digital format with a new nice new updated cover. I would like to thank the publisher and Netgalley for the opportunity to read this book and review it. Kim married at eighteen. Brian was the absolute love of her life. She got pregnant accidently soon after the marriage and had twin boys. But, Brian was drafted and went to Vietnam. Before she knew it Kim was a told her husband was dead. A body was brought back and a buried. Kim got a job as a commercial photographer and raised her two boys single handedly. Then she met Keith. After three years of dating, Keith has finally convinced Kim to at least move in with him even though he really wants to them to marry. But, the day before she is set to make the big move, her husband shows up at her house alive and well. The body that had been buried was his army friend. After long months of red tape he was finally declared alive again. Now he wants to meet his boys and resume his marriage to Kim. This theme has been explored countless times. It is always thought provoking. I have to imagine myself in that position. For Kim it was just a shock and frankly Brian didn't really give her a chance to absorb the situation fully before he just barged in and demanded she make a choice between him and Keith. One thing to remember though is that this book was written in the eighties and so some of the male characters in romance novels published in that time would be considered jerks today. So, for me Brian came on way too strong and he was a big fat hypocrite as well. He does soften up a little when Kim confronts him about his actions during the time he was a prisoner in Vietnam and with some of the things he had done when he had returned home as well. To me Brian was wrong in so many ways that I just never warmed up to him. I did try to see things from his perspective and could understand some things, but he had a double standard. Kim never betrayed him because the whole time he was gone she thought he was dead. That should have counted for something in Brian's eyes. But, he never really apologized for the things he did and never even seemed remorseful about it. Kim's situation was much easier to understand and I felt empathy for her. I understood her choice in the end and was hopeful that there was be a HEA for everyone.This was not my favorite Heather Graham novel. It was emotional and made you think about things. I just didn't like the way some things were handled which put a damper on the end result for me. The story is compelling and I do urge you to try out these older titles that are being released in e book form. Just keep in mind the time period the book was written in and don't let the male attitudes taint the story for you. Overall I would give this one a B-/C+