Evergreen

By Aurelia Jask

Designer Maureen "Maury" Robinson has an amazing life - living in New York City and working for a popular fashion label, with great friends and a cute studio apartment. Sure, her on and off "situationship" with male model Tom leaves much to be desired, but apart from that, her life is practically perfect.

That is until her fath

• Language: English
• Publisher: Warrioress Publishing
• Release date: Dec 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088060902

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Aurelia Jask

Evergreen

First published by Warrioress Publishing 2023

Copyright © 2023 by Aurelia Jask

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Aurelia Jask asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

Aurelia Jask has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

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To my husband Dayne, who has supported me through every day, good and bad. Thank you for teaching me to breathe again, for loving me the way I’ve always needed to be loved, and for giving Javi his soul.

And to Pedro Pascal. Thanks for being hot.

Contents

Acknowledgement

Prologue

One: Rain

Two: If I Don’t Laugh, I’ll Cry

Three: Head Above Water

Four: Why Can’t I?

Five: The Promise

Six: Cut To The Feeling

Seven: Closer To You

Eight: More Than You Know

Nine: Dancing With Your Shadows

Ten: Something Good Coming

Eleven: Evergreen

Epilogue

About the Author

Acknowledgement

There are a number of folks behind Evergreen. Evergreen was a labor of love and took a long time to fully come together. The saying is that it takes a village, and in this case it was most certainly true. I am overwhelmed and humbled to have these folks as my village. My deepest and most heartfelt thanks to you all.

My husband Dayne. You have seen me through every day; good and bad. You’ve helped with every setback and celebrated every triumph. I am so lucky to have a partner so supportive, kind, caring and good right down to the core. Thank you for always loving me the way I needed to be loved, for giving me the blueprint for Javi, and helping him come to life. You gave him his soul. Without you there is no Evergreen. Thank you for believing in me and encouraging me every step of the way. I love you here, there and everywhere.

Lucille, my mother - who thankfully is more like Jack and nothing like Karen. Thank you for supporting me and my dreams. I know I wasn’t an easy kid, and my head was always in the clouds. Thanks for keeping me safe, letting me be myself, and letting me do things at my own pace.

Aurora, my sister by choice if not by blood. Thank you for every single late night therapy session. Thank you for never judging and always listening. Thank you for letting me complain to you at least once a week how very mad I am that that one couple from The Vampire Diaries didn’t end up together. Thank you for being my person. Thank you for an endless supply of cat pictures and for always looking out for me. I wouldn’t have made it all these years without you to lean on.

My best friend Tyler and my Brain Twin Michelle, thank you both for being my coven. For being proud of me and celebrating me. For being honest with me, even when it wasn’t easy. For letting me truly be me, and for always being up for shenanigans. In the two of you, I found sisterhood and sameness, which I spent my whole life searching for. Finding the two of you was like coming in out of the rain and I am so grateful for your love.

My friends and hype squad: Elise, Colin, Joe, and Elaine; thank you all for listening to every deranged 4 am rant, every story idea, and every single other ludicrous thing that comes out of my head. Thank you for reading who knows how many drafts. Thanks for never being mad at my long silences, or when I send you 500 messages in 10 minutes. Thanks for always hyping me up and believing in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. Thank you for encouraging me to push forward. Everyone should be so lucky to have friends like you.

Tanya and the folks at Warrioress Publishing for taking a chance on me and my little story. You’ve helped me realize a lifelong dream, and there are no words that can express my gratitude for that. All I’ve ever wanted since I could hold a pencil was to be a writer. Thank you for helping me get here.

and

The Clam Club. Thank you for all of your love, support and encouragement. It’s because of the warm reception I received from you and the community we built that I even had the courage to take this step at all, so literally none of this would be possible without you. We may have bonded over a certain handsome Chilean-American actor and the fact that poor Marcus Pike deserved better, but it became so much more than that. I’m so grateful to you all. I love you, my thirsty little clams.

and also

J – whose memory I carry with me wherever I go, so that it may inspire me to do good, love hard, and to be kind. I hope you and Chris Cornell are rocking out together in the great beyond. Thank you for giving Javi his heart.

Prologue

February 14th

Late one rainy evening, I was still at my sewing table sketching a design when my phone rang. I glanced at the time as I answered. 10:47 PM.

Hey Maury, came the voice of Jules Kanroe, my best friend for the last 12 years. She must have just gotten home from a bartending shift.

Hey, what’s up?

Just making sure you weren’t hanging by a shoelace from your shower curtain.

That is a very dark joke, I said, but I smiled in spite of myself. I’m fine.

Good, I’m glad, because at work tonight, Kevin Castro asked me if you were seeing anyone, she said. I wanted to know if I could give him your number.

Kevin Castro dresses like a Country Club golf pro, I replied. He wears his polos like he voted for Trump, I went on, rolling my pencil back and forth under my palm on the table.

Maury! Ugh, my point is, you have interest from other viable male specimens-

"I’m not sure viable is the right word for Kevin," I interjected. Jules made a noise that was somewhere between humor and exasperation.

"Are you okay?" she asked after a beat. I wasn’t, not really. But I wasn’t about to say it out loud and give the universe the satisfaction. I set the pencil aside and glanced around my tiny apartment.

I’m functioning, I replied, getting up from my sewing table and flopping back on the couch next to it.

It’s okay if you’re not, she insisted. It’s Valentine’s Day, it’s a tough day to be alone. Especially after…, she let the words hang.

Why wouldn’t I be fine? It’s not like he was my boyfriend, I said. He’s always really clear about that.

That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, she said kindly.

Did you say ask out the hot girl at work yet? I changed the subject.

Her name is Kat. We’re planning a June wedding, she sighed wistfully.

So you said hello? I teased.

Haven’t worked up the nerve, she admitted.

Before I could reply, there was a tap at my door.

Hang on a sec, I told Jules, peering through the peephole.

Tom Logan, my on-again, off-again lover was standing there. He was wearing a white button down that he’d undone halfway and black dress pants. He had probably just come from work, I realized.

Jules? I’ll call you back.

Something wrong?

I think a rat is trying to get into my apartment, I said grimly.

Ew, gross, we said good night. With a sigh, I unlocked the deadbolt and latch before letting Tom in.

What are you doing here? I demanded. It had been at least three weeks since we last spoke and I’d vowed that this time, I was done with him.

What do you mean? It’s Valentine’s, he said playfully. He pulled one very sad looking red rose out from behind his back and handed it to me. Of course, I’d come see you.

Did you steal this from work? I asked with narrowed eyes.

Do you know how expensive roses are on Valentine’s Day? he mumbled, walking past me and flopping down on my couch. C’mon Maury, you know I would have gotten you a big bunch of roses if I could. This is what you want, right? Romance and all that shit?

I crossed my arms over my chest. I don’t care about flowers, I said.

Then why are you pissed off now?

"Because I haven’t heard from you in weeks, and you show up here at in the middle of the night-"

It’s hardly the middle of the night, he said. Things are crazy with work right now.

Tom worked part time catering after his career as a model fizzled out. I rolled my eyes at that and looked back at him incredulously.

I just wanted to see you, he went on, giving me a wounded look.

Why? You couldn’t be bothered to call me back after Jules’s birthday.

Yeah, I’m sorry. You know I’m really bad at that. I just get so caught up in stuff. But I thought about you a lot. I thought about you all day today, he said. He looked at me, his blue eyes wide and sincere. He could really turn on the charm when he wanted something. I resolved to not be swayed.

I think you should leave, I said, opening the door wider.

Don’t be like that, he replied, getting back to his feet. He swept over to me as if he were dancing a waltz. He hummed, taking my arm and turning me slightly so that he was behind me, as if I were his partner on the dance floor. You know you want me to stay. You know you missed me, too, his voice was soft as he leaned down to kiss my neck.

N-no, I think you should go, I repeated, gesturing to the open door.

C’mon Maury, he whispered, and he kissed my neck again, biting down a little. I closed my eyes. I had a dream that we were in California for a shoot, he went on, his lips tracing my neck. You were wearing that black bikini. The one that drove me so crazy that year we went to the Hamptons. His hands were at my waist, pulling me closer to him. His erection dug into my back side. Let me give you your Valentine’s gift.

With another sigh, I closed the door and followed him to my bed. He took off his shirt and pulled me down next to him. I was only wearing the over-sized t-shirt and underwear I slept in, and he fondled my breasts roughly over top of the shirt while kissing me and shoving his tongue into my mouth. After a moment, he moved his hand down and pawed at my underwear. He yanked them off and then he took his pants off. He slid on a condom and then roughly pushed himself inside me.

My Valentine’s gift consisted of about 4 minutes of him flopping around on top of me before saying Thanks, babe, and rolling over to go to sleep.

I laid there in disbelief that he could fall asleep so fast, and idly wondered if he was faking it to avoid cuddling or talking. With a grunt, I got up to use the bathroom and immediately stepped on the used condom he’d dropped next to the bed. Cursing under my breath, I picked it off my foot and tossed it in the trash. I grabbed my phone and hobbled to the bathroom. I rinsed my foot off in the shower, and then sat on the closed toilet lid. I leaned back, putting my hand over my eyes. I felt like crying.

I started to call Jules back, but I knew exactly what she would say, because she had said some variation of it to me over and over again for the last seven years.

Oh god, Maureen Adele Robinson, tell me you didn’t sleep with that recalled Ken Doll again. He is never going to change. What do you even see in him? He treats you like garbage.

I opened the bathroom door and looked out at the bed. I contemplated his washboard abs, well developed pecs, and the grapefruit sized biceps as he sprawled out across my bed.

He makes me laugh, I would usually answer. Because he did.

He also makes you cry, was her usual retort. Because he did.

I was about to get up and go back to sketching when my phone rang. Expecting it to be Jules, I was shocked when I saw Dad’s number on the screen. It was almost 11:30.

Hey Dad, I said. It’s late, everything okay?

Everything’s fine, kid. I just knew you’d be up burning the midnight oil, he said with a chuckle. He was right, I could usually be counted on to stay up well past midnight. I can’t get to sleep, and while I was thinking about it, I just wanted to see if you could come down next weekend.

Uh, maybe. To Baltimore? I looked at my calendar on my phone.

Yeah, it’s not warm enough now to open the beach house. I want to have a little impromptu-ish dinner party. I’m trying to raise some money for Kevin Rossiter’s charity - it’s the post-Holiday season slump - and you’re always a big hit with Mrs. Todd. Mrs. Todd was a very wealthy woman that could be counted on to open her purse for charity, if you flattered her enough first. She thought she was this generation’s Coco Chanel, and loved to corner me at parties, pretending that her small consignment shop in Baltimore was on par with the designer label I worked for in New York. I found her odious at best, a downright snob at worst. But she had deep pockets, and I could never say no to my dad.

I’ll try to get down Friday, I promised. I mentally tallied the projects I was juggling, wondering which I could push the deadline on.

Good, I haven’t had a decent chess match in weeks. And there’s a couple of people that I want you to meet while you’re here.

Can’t wait, I said with a small smile, wondering if he had collected another Mrs. Todd.

"Okay. Did you and your uh … friend go out for Valentine’s Day?"

Uh, no we hung out around my place, I said carefully. He brought me flowers though.

When am I going to meet this guy? What’s his name again? Tim? I feel like you’ve been going out forever and I don’t know anything about him.

"Tom, Dad. And… Uh, it’s complicated, you know that," I said. I lit a cigarette, opening the bathroom window slightly.

Hmm, Dad grumbled. He was quiet for a moment. Are you doing okay, kid? he asked, his tone softening, You can talk to me, you know.

I’m fine, I said, exhaling smoke through the cracked window, Work is just a little hectic right now. I could talk to Dad about most things, but I couldn’t talk to him about Tom. It was too pathetic.

Are you smoking? I could hear the disappointment.

No, I lied.

I wish you’d quit, he chastised.

And I wish I had a pony.

In your apartment?

You have more than enough room for one, you could keep it for me.

All right smart ass, I’m going to hit the sack, then, he said. I’m jogging again, so I have to get up early tomorrow.

Good! I said, But you be careful, you’re entering those dangerous heart attack years, I teased. My dad was 55, and in amazing shape, but I loved to wind him up.

Good night, kid, he said gruffly. Love you.

Love you too Dad, I said.

We hung up. I finished my cigarette and went to my small kitchen. I made myself some tea, not bothering to be quiet. Tom never stirred. Finally, I put the sad looking rose in a plastic Solo cup of water, leaving it on the breakfast bar before finally crawling into bed. It was a full-size mattress and Tom was sprawled out taking up about three-quarters of it. I switched off the lamp. Grumbling, I wedged myself into the tiny available space and tried to sleep. It was nearly 2 am before I was able to fall asleep, but I woke up to the sound of trash trucks shortly before 7:30.

I looked over at the other side of the bed. No sign of Tom anywhere. I sat up. He’d probably left the door to my apartment unlocked when he snuck out, the bastard.

Just then my cell phone rang.

Hello? My eyes were too bleary to read the number on the screen.

Maureen Robinson?

Yes? I yawned.

My name is Dr. Davis, I’m a trauma surgeon at Baltimore General.

What’s happened? I asked fearfully. Is… is it my dad?

Yes, I’m afraid I have some bad news.

After I hung up, I sat numbly on the edge of the bed. I called Tom. I called him again… But he didn’t answer.

I called Jules.

Hello? she answered groggily.

Jules, I said in a flat, dead voice.

What’s wrong? she was wide awake now.

My…My dad. He had a brain aneurysm. He’s in surgery.

Oh my god, are you okay? I’ll be… I heard frantic sounds of drawers opening. I’ll be right there.

As I waited for her, I tried Tom one more time. Nothing.

My eyes