Page 17 of Heartbeat


  I cried because I was happy and scared and still a little angry. I am all those things still and Caleb was there. Is here.

  We are together. We walk with each other when we can between classes in school. We talk when we can. He even eats lunch with me and Olivia. People have said stuff, but he doesn’t care and the girl I used to be, the girl who would have, is gone. I am not going to be valedictorian, I’m not going to even be in the top twenty. I’m probably going to summer school to make up a bunch of my classes. (Okay, I’m definitely going, and Dan has started homework checks, which are weird, but I get why he’s doing it).

  In the end, it’s okay because now I walk through school and see that it isn’t everything. That it’s just a part of my life and that it shouldn’t be everything.

  I know what matters.

  Caleb does too.

  When he kisses me, I am still here, I am still in this life, in my life, but I am glad to be there. Glad to be the me who saw him. Who gets to hold him.

  Things haven’t changed for him. His parents are the same, and they won’t change. That’s another thing about life I’ve learned. The people who need to see things clearly the most tend to miss life, believe they are living it when they are only letting it pass by.

  Caleb still hurts in a way I understand, but not because of them. He hurts for his sister. That’s how grief is.

  Grief holds you tight. It holds you forever.

  But we can hold each other too, and we do. I know he is thinking of me and Minnie, just as I am thinking of him and Mom.

  “Should we go?” he says after a while, after it’s been—after we both know enough time has almost passed, and I nod.

  This is the part of grief that hurts the most.

  “She was the best mother,” I tell him. “Fun. Strong. She loved me. She loved Dan. She loved...she loved Liam. I miss her so much.”

  Beside me, Caleb lets out a deep, shuddering breath. When he speaks, his voice is very low, just above a whisper.

  “I miss Minnie,” he says. “I miss her waking up before everyone else and making so much noise we all got up too. I miss her coming into my room and going through my stuff. I miss her asking me to make her chocolate milk. I never realized how quiet—it’s so quiet in the house now, you know?”

  We should go, but neither of us do. We are both thinking of people we love. Of people we have lost. Of people who left us before we thought they would.

  But we are here.

  We are here, and we walk to the elevator together. Caleb kisses me while we wait for it.

  “Hi,” he says, and I smile at him, touch his hair, parting his curls so I can see his eyes.

  “Hi,” I say, and then whisper, “I’m scared.” I thought saying it out loud would make it—I didn’t think it would make it disappear, but I thought it would make it easier.

  It doesn’t.

  “I know,” Caleb says, and we get off the elevator, walk to the waiting room. We sit, two people among others whose faces are creased with worry too, and flip through old magazines.

  We sit and wait and when I have looked through all the magazines he buys me chips and a soda, kisses me when I ask what time it is because I just asked before he went to the vending machines.

  He kisses me and for that kiss, for that moment, I forget how worried I am. It comes back, of course, but with Caleb, I feel more whole—I am more whole—than I have been since Mom died.

  I love him.

  I love him because of who he is, who he really is past what everyone else sees—the lost boy, the druggie, the car thief. I love him because he is strong and caring. I love him because he broke and put himself back together again. I love him because he is beautiful inside and out.

  I love him for being here with me. I love him for not telling me that everything will be all right. I love him because he knows what life is like, what it can do, and is always honest about it.

  “Caleb,” I say, and he looks at me. Smiles.

  “I love you,” he says, and that is how it is. How we are. He knows I love him without me saying it, just like I know he loves me.

  But I do like it when he says it. I glow inside when he does.

  “I love you too,” I say, and I had no idea he’d come into my life. That being with him—loving him—could be so right. But it is. We are.

  I love you is just words but it is more than that when you mean them. When you feel them.

  So yes, I love him, he loves me, and it matters. It matters a lot, but there is still no news and I knot my hands together, squeeze.

  No news and no Dan, who I last saw getting ready to go back to be with Mom and Liam for the operation. Who said, “You can still come.”

  But I couldn’t. I had to talk to Mom for one last time, and I did.

  She’s gone, but I can be happy. I can be in love. I can be both those things and scared too, and I am. I am, and this is what life is.

  I sit next to Caleb, waiting and thinking about what life really is. About how it has its own will. How it shows you things that rip you open, tear your world apart. How it unfolds even when you think it can’t. How it takes you places you never thought you’d be. Shows you things you never knew you wanted to see. Brings you pain—and joy.

  Where will it take me now?

  I don’t know. And that’s what life is. You can plan all you want, but you will never know what will be. Life just is, and I am here in it. I am waiting for what comes next.

  I hear a noise, footsteps, and Caleb says, “Emma,” wonder in his voice.

  I look and I see Dan.

  I see Dan, and he is smiling. He is gesturing, hands flying, and I know I have a brother. That Liam is here, he’s made it, and when I can, when the doctors will let me, I will fly to the ICU to see him. To tell him all the things we will do together. To wait to be able to hold him for the first time.

  I will always carry Mom in my heart. I will always miss her. I will always wish she was here.

  I will always know what life can take, but I am ready to see what it can give.

  I’m ready to move forward.

  * * * * *

  Acknowledgments

  A very special thank you to Natashya Wilson and everyone at Harlequin Teen for their enthusiasm, encouragement and general all-around awesomeness.

  Robin, Beth, Diana and Jess—thank you for all your support, kindness and for, well, being who you are.

  Thanks also go out to the following fantastic members of my mailing list: Sebrina Parker Schultz, Petra (Safari Poet), Samantha Page Townsend, Nicole Hackett, Autumn Nelson, Renee Combs, Alexandria, Tess Puhak, Ashley Evans, Christi Aldellizzi, Nakoya Wilson, Hannah Joy Herring, Stephanie Fleischer, Meghan Dondero, Nancy Woodford, Lexi Welch, Genevieve Swords, Lauren Becker, and Lucile Ogie-Kristianson.

  A special shout-out to Christi Aldellizzi for not just being a mailing list star, but for being so generous in giving to help out victims of Hurricane Sandy. Christi is another reason I know that my readers are the BEST readers ever.

  Lastly, thank you to all the librarians, booksellers and readers who talk up my books. Your support means so much to me!

  Questions for Discussion

  Heartbeat explores a relatively rare situation in which Emma’s mother is dead but her body is being kept alive due to her pregnancy. What did you think about the situation? How did grief affect Emma’s actions and feelings?

  What do you think Emma would have done if Dan had made her part of the decision when her mother died?

  Olivia is Emma’s sole friend when the story begins. Why do you think Olivia stays by Emma’s side throughout her grief and changing attitudes? What do you think makes a friendship strong?

  Caleb and Emma are brought together initially thr
ough circumstance and then shared grief. Do you believe their relationship has a chance to last and grow? Why or why not?

  Why did Emma fear that Dan might choose to send her away? What was at the root of her fears?

  Emma’s attitude toward school undergoes a 180-degree change before and after her mother’s death. What do you think will happen with her attitude in the future and why?

  Heartbeat explores Emma’s journey from grief to hope through different kinds of love—family love, friendship, and romantic love. How did each type affect Emma? What helped her, and did any hinder her? What do you think Emma will pass on to her baby brother as he grows up?

  Q&A with Elizabeth Scott

  Q: Tell us a little about yourself and how you came to be an author.

  A: I fell into writing fiction by total accident. When I was in school, I went out of my way to avoid any “creative” writing assignments because I didn’t think I had any imagination. Also, all the writers I knew seemed very intense and talked a lot about “the craft,” and it seemed kind of scary. I just wanted to read books, not write them!

  I wrote what ended up being my first piece of fiction while I was at work, bored out of my mind in a meeting, and I wasn’t intense and certainly didn’t know anything about writing, but I did learn one thing—writing stories was fun! I joined an online critique group and never looked back after that. I think the thing I love about writing the most, besides getting to tell stories, is that there’s always more to learn. There are always new things to try and hopefully, ways to be better!

  Q: What inspired you to write Heartbeat?

  A: I’d read a newspaper article about the death of a pregnant woman and thought, “What if she’d died but the baby hadn’t?” It turns out that once in a while, that does happen, and the moment I learned that, Emma sprang into my head.

  Q: Emma and Olivia have a strong friendship. What do you think is important in a friend?

  A: Someone who gets you. It might not sound like much, but everyone has a messy/dark side, and my friends, the ones who have been in my life for a long time—they get it. And they’re okay with it.

  Q: What kind of research did you do while writing Heartbeat?

  A: Obviously, there’s not a lot out there about Emma’s situation, but I read about premature births and prenatal care. And I’d read several books about the “camp” Caleb mentions being sent to and knew I wanted him to have been to one.

  Q: As an author, you probably like many of your characters, but tell us, do you have a secret favorite?

  A: I don’t, because I can’t read my books! I mean, if I have to do a reading, I’ll pick out a passage, but that’s it. So many writers I know can read their own stuff once it’s published, but I can’t. I’ve tried a couple of times, but have yet to make it past the first few pages. I guess I’d rather just be writing something new!

  Q: What do you hope that readers will remember after finishing Heartbeat?

  A: Honestly, I just hope they like it! I’m not a big fan of “message” books. I just want to tell a story and if people like it, then YAY!

  Q: What advice do you have for aspiring authors?

  A: Read. I meet so many people who want to be writers, who have written stories/novels, and when I ask them what they last read, they just look at me. I was a reader long before I became a writer and I think that if you don’t love reading, then why are you writing? Also, don’t just read what genre you write. Read everything you can get your hands on. Read stuff that you wish you could write. (In my case, it’s poetry.)

  Thank you, Elizabeth!

  Turn the page for an exclusive look at the next

  powerful and romantic contemporary novel

  from award-winning author Elizabeth Scott

  HOPE LIES

  1

  I was eating peas when the police came for my mother.

  “Warren?” my mother said when the doorbell rang. She didn’t like interruptions during dinner, but they still happened sometimes. And they were always for my father, who could never quite leave work, even when he wasn’t in the office.

  Dad got up, giving my mother a rueful smile, then shooting a longing glance at his roast beef as he left the room.

  “Victoria,” he called out a moment later, his voice strangely tense, and my mother, frowning slightly, put her fork down and got up.

  “I bet it’s the club,” I said. The Pleasantfield Country Club was always trying to get my parents to donate money, even though the only time they did was for charity fund-raisers.

  “Eat your peas, Isabel,” my mother said as she left the dining room. I guiltily rolled them out from under the pile of what I’d thought were artfully arranged meat scraps.

  As soon as she left though, I picked up my plate and dumped as many as I could onto my father’s. It wasn’t a big deal. He liked peas.

  Dad came back as I was putting my plate down. He looked strange, frightened and sick.

  “Dad?” I said, my stomach clenching.

  “Your mother’s had to leave with the police,” he said. And that’s how it all started. How I found out my mother wasn’t who I thought she was. How I found out she was someone else. Someone who’d disappeared a long time ago.

  Someone who was wanted for murder.

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  ISBN-13: 9781460318133

  HEARTBEAT

  Copyright © 2014 by Elizabeth Spencer

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either 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. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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  Elizabeth Scott, Heartbeat

 


 

 
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