An Extract of J. A. Redmerski's The Edge of Always

7/27/2019 An Extract of J. A. Redmerski's The Edge of Always

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/an-extract-of-j-a-redmerskis-the-edge-of-always 1/22



J.A. Redmerski, New York Times, USA Today and Wall

Street Journal bestselling author lives in North Little

Rock, Arkansas with her three children, two cats, and

a Maltese. She is a lover o television and books that

push boundaries and is a huge an o AMC’s The Walking

Dead .

www.JessicaRedmerski.com

Twitter: @JRedmerskiFacebook.com/J.A.Redmerski



This novel is entirely a work o ction.The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are

the work o the author’s imagination. Any resemblance toactual persons, living or dead, events or localities is

entirely coincidental.

Harper An imprint o HarperCollinsPublishers

77–85 Fulham Palace Road,Hammersmith, London W6 8JB

www.harpercollins.co.uk

A Paperback Original 20141

Copyright © J.A. Redmerski 2013

J.A. Redmerski asserts the moral right to be identied as the author o this work

A catalogue record or this bookis available rom the British Library

ISBN: 978-0-00-753619-1

Set in Meridien by Palimpsest Book Production Limited,Falkirk, Stirlingshire

Printed and bound in Great Britain byClays Ltd, St Ives plc

All rights reserved. No part o this publication may bereproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,in any orm or by any means, electronic, mechanical,

photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the priorpermission o the publishers.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way otrade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without

the publisher’s prior consent in any orm o binding or cover other than that in

which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

™

™

FSC™ is a non-prot international organization established to promotethe responsible management o the world’s orests. Products carrying theFSC label are independently certied to assure consumers that they come

rom orests that are managed to meet the social, economic and

ecological needs o present and uture generations,and other controlled sources.

Find out more about HarperCollins and the environment atwww.harpercollins.co.uk/green



Andrew



3

ONE

A ew months ago, when I was laid up in that hospital bed,

I didn’t think I’d be alive today much less be expecting a

baby and engaged to an angel with a dirty mouth. But here

I am. Here we are, Camryn and me, taking on the world . . .

in a dierent way. Things didn’t quite turn out how weplanned them, but then again, things rarely do. And neither

o us would change the way they turned out even i we

could.

I love this chair. It was my dad’s avorite chair, and the

one thing he let behind that I wanted. Sure, I inherited a

at check that will set Camryn and me up or a while, and

o course I got the Chevelle, but the chair was equallysentimental to me. She hates it, but she won’t say so out

loud, because it was my dad’s. I can’t blame her; it’s old, it

stinks, and there’s a hole in the cushion rom my dad’s

cigarette smoking days. I promised her I’d get someone in

here to clean it, at least. And I will. As soon as she gures

out whether we’re going to stay in Galveston or move to

North Carolina. I’m ne with either, but something tells me

she’s holding back on what she really wants, because o me.

I hear the water rom the shower shut o, and seconds



4

later a loud bang vibrates through the wall. I jump up rom

the chair, letting the remote control hit the foor as I rush

toward the bathroom. The edge o the coee table clips the

shit outta my shin as I pass.

I swing open the bathroom door. “What happened?”

Camryn shakes her head at me and smiles as she leans

over to pick the hair dryer up rom the foor beside the

toilet.

I breathe a sigh o relie.

“You’re more paranoid than I am,” she laughs.

She glances down at my leg as I rub it with my ngertips.

She sets the hair dryer back on the counter, comes up to

me, and kisses the side o my mouth. “Looks like I’m not

the one o us who needs to worry about being accident-

prone.” She smiles.

My hands cup her shoulders and I pull her closer, letting

one hand all down to touch her little rounded belly. I can

barely tell she’s pregnant. At our months I thought she’dat least be emulating a baby hippo, but what do I know

about this stu?

“Maybe so,” I say, trying to hide the red in my ace. “You

probably did that on purpose just to see how ast I could

get in here.”

She kisses the other side o my mouth and then goes in

or the kill, kissing me ully and deeply while pressing herwet, naked body against mine. I moan against her mouth,

wrapping my arms around her.

But then I pull away beore I all into her devious trap.

“Dammit, woman, you’ve gotta stop that.”

She grins back at me. “You really want me to stop?” she

asks with that up-to-no-good smile o hers.

It scares the shit out o me when she does that. Once ater

a conversation laced with that smile, she stopped having sex

with me or three whole days. Worst three days o my lie.



5

“Well, no,” I say nervously. “I just mean right now. We

have exactly thirty minutes beore we have to be at the doctor’s

oce.”

I just hope she’s this horny throughout her entire preg-

nancy. I’ve heard horror stories about how some women go

rom wanting it all the time until they get really big and

then i you touch them they turn into re-breathing

banshees.

Thirty minutes. Damn. I could bend her over the counter real

quick . . .

Camryn smiles sweetly and jerks the towel rom the

shower curtain rod and starts drying o. “I’ll be ready in

ten,” she says as she waves me out. “Don’t orget to water

Georgia. Did you nd your phone?”

“Not yet,” I say as I start to ease my way out the door,

but then I stop and add with a sexually suggestive grin,

“Ummm, we could—”

She shuts the door in my ace. I just walk o laughing.I rush around the apartment, searching under cushions

and in odd places or my keys and nally nding them hiding

underneath a stack o junk mail on the kitchen counter. I

stop or a moment and take a particular piece o mail into

my ngers. Camryn won’t let me throw it away, because it

was the one she looked at when giving the 911 operator

my address the morning I had that seizure in ront o her.I guess she eels like that piece o paper helped save my lie,

but really what it did was help her eventually understand

what was going on with me. The seizure was harmless. I’ve

had several. Hell, I had one when we were staying in the

hotel in New Orleans beore we started sharing a room.

When I nally told her about that later, needless to say, she

was not happy with me.

She worries all the time that the tumor will come back.

I think she worries about it more than I do.



6

I it does, it does. We’ll get through it together. We’ll

always get through everything together.

“Time to go, babe!” I yell rom the living room.

She comes out o our room dressed in a rather tight pair

o jeans and an equally tight T-shirt. And heels. Really? Heels?

“You’re going to squeeze her little head in those jeans,”

I say.

“No, I’m not going to squeeze her or his head,” she coun-

ters as she grabs her purse rom the couch and shoulders it.

“You’re so sure o yoursel, but we’ll see.” She takes my

hand and I walk her out the door, fipping the lock on the

knob beore I close it hard behind us.

“I know it’s a girl,” I say condently.

“Care to wager?” She looks over at me and grins.

We step out into the mild November air, and I open the

car door or her, gesturing inside with my palm up. “What

kind o bet?” I ask. “You know I’m all or betting.”

Camryn slides onto the seat, and I jog around to my sideand get in. Resting my wrists on the top o the steering

wheel, I look over at her and wait.

She smiles and chews gently on the inside o her bottom

lip in thought or a moment. Her long blonde hair tumbles

down over both shoulders, and her blue eyes shine with

excitement.

“You’re the one who seems so sure,” she nally says. “So,you name the bet and I’ll either agree to it or I won’t.” She

stops abruptly and points her nger sternly at me. “But nothing

sexual. I think you pretty much have that area covered. Think

o something . . .” she whirls her hand around in ront o her

“. . . I don’t know . . . daring or meaningul.”

Hmmm. I’m ocially stumped. I slide the key in the

ignition, but pause beore turning it.

“OK, i it’s a girl, then I get to name her,” I say with a

sot, proud smile.



7

Her eyebrows twitch a little and she turns her chin at an

angle. “I don’t like that bet. That’s something both o us

should take part in, don’t you think?”

“Well, yeah, but don’t you trust me?”

She hesitates. “Yes . . . I trust you, but—”

“—but not with a baby name.” I raise an eyebrow inter-

rogatively at her, but really I’m just messing with her head.

She can’t look me in the eyes anymore, and she appears

uncomortable.

“Well?” I urge her.

Camryn crosses her arms and says, “What name did you

have in mind, exactly?”

“What makes you think I already have one picked out?”

I turn the key and the Chevelle purrs to lie.

She smirks at me, cocking her head to one side. “Oh,

please. You obviously have one picked out already, or you

wouldn’t be so sure it’s a girl and making bets with me when

we have an ultrasound to get to.”I look away, grinning, and put the car into reverse.

“Lily,” I say and just barely catch Camryn’s eye as we back

out o the parking space. “Lily Marybeth Parrish.”

A little smile tugs the corners o her lips.

“I actually like that,” she says, and her smile gets bigger

and bigger. “I admit, I was slightly worried—why Lily?”

“No reason. I just like it.”She doesn’t seem convinced. She playully narrows her

eyes at me.

“I’m serious!” I say, laughing gently. “I’ve been going over

names in my head since the day ater you told me.”

Camryn’s smile warms, and i I wasn’t such a guy, I’d

cave to the moment and allow mysel to blush like an idiot.

“You’ve been thinking o names all this time?” She seems

happily surprised.

OK, so I blush anyway.



8

“Yeah,” I admit. “Haven’t thought o a good boy name

yet, but we’ve got several months to think about it.”

Camryn is just looking at me, beaming. I don’t know

what’s going on inside her head, but I realize my ace is

getting redder the longer she stares at me like that.

“What? ” I ask and let out a laugh.

She leans across the seat and raises her hand to my

ace, her ngertips pulling my chin to the side. And then

she kisses me.

“God, I love you,” she whispers.

It takes a second to realize I’m grinning so big my ace

eels stretched out. “I love you, too. Now get your seat belt

on.” I point to it.

She slides back over onto her side and clicks the seat belt

buckle into place.

As we ride toward the doctor’s oce we both keep glancing

at the clock in the dashboard. Eight more minutes. Five.

Three. I think it hits her as hard as it does me when we pullinto the building’s parking lot. In no time at all we may

meet our son or daughter or the very rst time.

Yeah, a ew months ago, I didn’t think I’d be alive . . .

“The wait is killing me,” Camryn leans over and whispers

to me.

This is so strange. Sitting in this doctor’s waiting roomwith pregnant chicks on all sides o us. I’m kind o scared

to make eye contact. Some o them look pissed. All o the

magazines or guys seem to have a man on the cover in a

boat holding up a sh with his thumb in its mouth. I pretend

to read an article.

“We’ve only been sitting here or about ten minutes,” I

whisper back and run the palm o my hand across her thigh,

letting the magazine rest on my lap.

“I know, I’m just nervous.”



9

As I take her hand, a nurse in pink scrubs steps out rom

a side door and calls Camryn’s name, and we ollow her

back.

I sit against the wall while Camryn undresses and then

puts on one o those hospital gowns. I tease her about her

butt being on display and she pretends to be oended, but

the blush gives her away. And we sit here and wait. And

wait some more until another nurse comes in and has our

ull attention. She washes her hands in the nearby sink.

“Did you drink enough water an hour beore your appoint-

ment?” the nurse asks ater the hellos.

“Yes ma’am,” Camryn says.

I can tell she’s araid something might be wrong with the

baby and the ultrasound will show it. I’ve tried to tell her

that everything will be ne, but it doesn’t keep her rom

worrying.

She looks across the room at me, and I can’t help but get

up and move over to her side. The nurse asks a series oquestions and snaps on a pair o latex gloves. I help answer

the questions that I can, because Camryn seems increasingly

more worried every second that goes by and she doesn’t talk

much. I squeeze her hand, trying to ease her mind.

Ater the nurse squirts that gel stu on her belly, Camryn

takes a deep breath.

“Wow, that’s some tattoo you’ve got there,” the nursesays. “It must’ve been pretty special to sit through one as

large as that on the ribs.”

“Yeah, it’s denitely special,” Camryn says and smiles up

at me. “It’s o Orpheus. Andrew has the other hal. Eurydice.

But it’s a long story.”

I proudly raise my shirt over my ribs to show the nurse

my hal.

“Stunning,” the nurse says, looking at both o our tattoos

in turns. “You don’t see that in here every day.”



Camryn



31

FOUR

Yesterday was an exhausting day. In a good way. Good news

seemed to come rom everywhere, and I’m still reeling about

it all. It’ll only make tonight at our avorite bar in Houston

that much more exciting.

Andrew and I started playing a ew bars here and therea little over a month ago, and I love it. Beore Andrew, I

never in my lie imagined playing live in bars. Playing live

anywhere, or that matter. It’s not something that crossed

my mind even once. But the taste I got or it back in New

Orleans opened up a new world to me. O course, Andrew

being there with me played a huge part in my enjoyment

o it and that still holds true today. I doubt I could keepdoing this i it weren’t or him.

Perorming isn’t what I enjoy the most; perorming with

him is what makes me love it.

I talk to my mom or a while about coming home in a

couple o days, and she’s so excited to see me. She and Roger

got hitched in Mexico! It kind o ticked me o because I

didn’t get to be there, but now that I think about it more it

doesn’t bother me. They were being spontaneous. They did

what they elt they wanted to do in their hearts and just



32

went or it. I’ve learned during my time with Andrew that

being spontaneous and breaking ree rom the mold is oten

a good thing. Ater all, we wouldn’t be together today i I

mysel didn’t have some rsthand experience with being

spontaneous.

As ar as our own wedding date, well, we haven’t set one.

We talked about it one night and agreed that we will get

married when and wherever it eels right. No dates. No

planning. No ve-thousand-dollar dress that I’ll only wear

once. No matching the fowers with the décor. No best man

or maids o honor. All o that stu stresses both o us out

just thinking about it.

We’ll get married when we’re ready, and we both know

that the wait has nothing to do with not being sure. It’s

what we both want, there’s no mistaking that.

I hear Andrew rustling the keys in the apartment door

and I meet him there. I jump up, wrapping my legs tight

around his waist, and kiss him ully on the mouth. He slamsthe door shut with his oot and wraps his arms around me,

keeping his lips locked with mine.

“What was that or?” he asks, pulling away.

“I’m just excited.”

His dimples deepen.

I hold on to him with my arms draped around his neck

as he carries me through the living room and into thekitchen.

“I wish I would’ve taken you home sooner,” he says,

setting me on top o the bar. He stands between my suspended

legs and tosses his keys on the counter.

“None o that guilty stu,” I say, pecking him once on

the lips. “I’ll miss Texas i I stay in North Carolina too long,

I’m sure.”

He smiles but doesn’t seem convinced o that.

“You don’t have to make a decision now,” he says, “but



33

I do want you to decide where we’re going to live, and I

don’t want you picking Texas because o me. I love my mom,

but I won’t be as homesick as you.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because I’ve lived on my own or a while,” he says. “You

never got the chance to do that beore you let Raleigh.”

He grins, stepping back subtly, and adds, “Besides, you’re

all hormonal and crazy and shit, so I’ll gladly do whatever

you say and you won’t get any arguments rom me.”

I playully kick my leg out at him, but miss him on purpose.

He leans in between my legs, lits the end o my shirt,

and then presses his warm lips against my belly.

“What about Billy Frank?” I ask as he lits upright. “I

you leave him again he might never hire you back.”

Andrew laughs and makes his way around the bar and

toward the cabinets. I swing around on the top o the bar

to ace him, hanging my legs over the opposite side.

“Billy Frank has been my boss o and on since I wassixteen,” he says, taking down a box o cereal. “We’re more

like amily, so it’s not your average mechanic job. I need

him more than he needs me.”

“Why do you still do it?” I ask.

“What, work under a hood?”

I nod.

He pours milk over the cereal he just made and puts it back in the ridge. “I like working on cars,” he says and then

takes a monstrous bite. With his mouth ull, he goes on,

“Kind o like a hobby, I guess. And besides, I like to keep

the money fowing in the bank.”

I eel a little small, not having a job yet. He senses it, like

he seems to sense just about everything. He swallows the

ood and points his spoon at me. “Don’t do that.”

I just look at him curiously, pretending not to know about

how easily he caught on.



34

He sits on the barstool next to me, propping his shoes

on the spindles below.

“You do realize you work, right?” he asks, looking at me

in a sidelong manner. “Last week we raked in our hundred

bucks the night we played at Levy’s. Four hundred in one

night ain’t too shabby.”

“I know,” I say. “It just doesn’t eel like a job.”

He laughs lightly, shaking his head. “It doesn’t eel like a

job because you happen to enjoy it. And because you’re not

punching a clock.”

He has a point, but I wasn’t quite nished explaining. “I

we were constantly on the road, didn’t have rent and

utilities and a baby on the way, it would be dierent.” I take

a sharp breath and just get to the point. “I want to get a

hobby job. Like you.”

He nods. “Awesome,” he says and takes another bite, all

the while sitting casually with his arms resting on the bar

around his bowl. “What would you like to do?” He pointsat me. “Note the important keyword in that question: like.”

I think on it a moment, pursing my lips in contemplation.

“Well, I like to clean, so maybe I could get a job at a

hotel,” I begin. “Or it might be nice to work at Starbucks or

something.”

He shakes his head. “I doubt you’ll like cleaning rooms,”

he says. “My mom used to do that beore my dad startedhis business. People leave nasty shit in those rooms.”

I cringe. “Well, I’ll gure something out. As soon as we

get to Raleigh, I’ll look or a job.”

Andrew’s spoon pauses just above his bowl. “So your

decision is to move back home, then?”



Andrew



37

FIVE

I didn’t mean to cause her ace to go all sti like that. I

move my bowl out o the way and pull her toward me,

sliding her across the bar top. I rest my arms across the tops

o her bare legs and look at her with the most sincere smile.

“I’m really OK with it, babe.”“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Denitely.” I lean over and kiss the top o her let

thigh and then the other. “We’ll go or the baby shower this

weekend, come back here and start packing.”

She grabs my hands. “But ater we move, we’ll denitely

have to come back here in February or the shower your

mom is planning.”My smile widens. “Sounds like a plan,” I say, not surprised,

though, that she’s taking my mom’s eelings into consideration,

too. “So then it’s settled. Raleigh will be our new home. At

least until we get tired o it.”

Camryn, happier now than she was when she rst greeted

me at the door, reaches out and grabs me around the neck.

I stand up and lit her back into my arms, her cute butt

propped in my hands.

“Sorry about the cereal,” she says.



38

“Huh?”

She lowers her eyes. “I bet when you dreamed about

being married you pictured your wie cooking man-meals

that’d make Gordon Ramsay’s toes curl.”

I throw my head back and laugh.

“No, I never really thought about stu like that,” I say,

our aces just inches apart. “Now the toe-curling stu, trust

me, you’ve got that down pat.”

She squeezes her thighs around my waist, her ace getting

redder. I kiss her on the nose and then look into her beau-

tiul blue eyes. I close my eyes and eel the minty warmth

o her breath close in on me. Her tongue gently touches my

bottom lip, urging my mouth to part or hers. I give in so

easily, touching the edge o her tongue to mine beore I kiss

her orceully, squeezing her body in my arms. I carry her

o to our bedroom, never breaking the kiss, and I have my

way with her or the next hour beore we head out to

Houston to play.

We arrive at the airport in North Carolina midday Friday,

and already I see the spark in Camryn’s eyes. It’s only her

second time back here in our months. We get our bags and

head outside in the sunshine to nd Natalie and Blake waiting

to pick us up. And just like the rst time I met her, I brace

mysel to stand ace-to-ace with Camryn’s hyena o a bestriend.

“I missed you so much, Cam!” Natalie enguls her in a hug.

Blake—I might start calling him Blondie or the hell o

it—stands tall behind Natalie with his hands buried deep in

his pockets, his shoulders slumped over, and a big gooy

smile on his tanned ace. I can tell which one o those two

is the master o their domain. That guy is whipped hardcore.

I laugh it o inside. More power to him. Hell, I can’t say

anything . . .



39

“Andrew!” Natalie moves toward me next, and I put up

my invisible crazy shield as I return her unsolicited hug.

OK, the truth is I don’t like Natalie much. I don’t hate her,

but she’s the kind o girl I wouldn’t think twice about talking

to without Camryn being in the mix. And what she did to

Camryn beore Camryn got on that bus let a bad ucking

taste in my mouth. I’m all or orgiveness, but just that Natalie

could do something like that to begin with is cause or caution

around her all o the time. It was hard or me to take it upon

mysel to call her up that day two weeks ago and tell her

about Camryn’s ultrasound date and all that. But I was doing

it or Camryn, and that’s all that matters to me.

“Good to see you again, Blake,” Camryn says, pulling him

into a riendly hug.

I know everything about Blake, too, about how he was

interested in Camryn rst beore later hooking up with

Natalie. And regardless o his attraction to Camryn beore

we met, he’s all right in my book.He and I shake hands.

“Oh my God, let me see!” Natalie says. She lits up

Camryn’s shirt, places both hands careully over her stomach,

and beams up at her. A tiny squeal-like sound reverberates

through Natalie’s throat, and I nd mysel wondering how

a human body can make such noises.

“I can be Aunt Natalie, or Godmother Natalie!”Ummm, how about no?

Camryn’s smiling head nods rapidly, and I just make sure

I’m not putting o any negative energy that she can detect.

The last thing I want to do is ruin this homecoming or her

by letting her know I tolerate her best riend only or

her sake.



Click here to keep reading The Edge of Always

http://amzn.to/1bZq17O



An Extract of J. A. Redmerski's The Edge of Always

Documents

Transcript of An Extract of J. A. Redmerski's The Edge of Always