Breakaway

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONEMorgan

Morgan Benson hefted the last of her bags from the carousel and set it on top of the other bags on the baggage cart. Pushing the cart in front of her, she carefully wound her way through the crowd at baggage claim, narrowly missing a couple of children running by, as she made her way to the other end of the Pittsburgh airport terminal.

Aside from a few household items that were being shipped, everything that really mattered to her filled these four bags. Her situation was sad, really. Who could fit their entire life and all of their memories into just four bags?

Moving cross-country was something she’d never expected to happen, but then she hadn’t expected her world to be turned upside down. Reeling in shock from the revelation of her mom’s cancer diagnosis hadn’t been how she had wanted to spend her twenty-first birthday. Her mom had been keeping the secret for weeks, and probably would have kept hiding it from her, but for the fact that Morgan had accidentally come across a bill from the oncologist.

Knowing there could be only one reason for her mother to see an oncologist, Morgan fearfully confronted her mother. Then, after learning the awful truth, she hadn’t wanted to celebrate anything, much less her milestone birthday. Her mother’s eyes had filled with sadness—not because she knew she was dying, but because she hadn’t wanted the news to ruin Morgan’s birthday.

Just as she did every year, her mom had wanted to make Morgan’s birthday special. So her mom had plastered on a smile, wiped Morgan’s tears away, and this year, for the first time, she had opened a bottle of blush wine for them to share.

Morgan had immediately cancelled her plans to go out with friends to toast her twenty-one years, and had stayed home with her mom instead. They ordered pizza, toasted marshmallows, and had ended the night with a walk on the beach.

She could still remember how beautiful her mom had looked in the moonlight, the waves splashing against their legs, and the cool sand squishing between their toes.

Morgan looked at her wrist, where a delicate charm bracelet sat. It was the gift her mom had given her that day.

She hadn’t even known her mom had been suffering. Amy Benson had always been good at putting on a strong face and just doing what needed done. But then again, she’d done that Morgan’s entire life. It had been just Morgan and her mom for as long as she could remember. Her father had died in an accident when she was a baby, so her mom was the only parent she’d ever known.

The cancer had progressed so quickly. Her initial prognosis of six months was off by four. Those two months following her mother’s passing were still a blur. And her home in California was the last place Morgan wanted to be, alone, with so many recent sad memories overshadowing the happy ones. Which brought her to this cross-country move.

Morgan pushed the cart through the automatic doors and into the sunshine. She had to shade her eyes to see her uncle standing against his car, with a welcoming smile.

“I told you I’d come in and help you grab your bags, kiddo. What’s the use of having a big strong hockey player for an uncle, if he can’t carry your bags for you?” Uncle Sam said. “I still wish you would’ve let me fly back with you.”

Her uncle, Sam Morris, was a forward for the ice hockey team, the Pittsburgh Renegades.

Morgan smiled. She adored her uncle. He had always been there for her and her mom, and he’d practically had his own room at their place ever since her mom’s diagnosis had been made known. Afterward, he and Aunt Trina and the kids had trekked all the way from Pittsburgh out to California to help her pack up her mom’s stuff, decide what little she was going to keep and what she was going to donate, and stow some of it away in storage. So after everything he’d already done for them, she couldn’t have asked him to miss any more time away from his life to stay with her. And she had needed privacy to say goodbye to the only home she’d ever known.

“Hey, Unc. I was fine on my own, but thanks for picking me up.”

“C’mere kid.” Her uncle Sam pulled her into a bear hug. “Did you at least have a good flight?”

She nodded against his chest as she held on tight. A knot formed in her throat. Once she stepped off this sidewalk, she’d be entering the next phase of her life.

“When is the rest of your stuff getting here?” he asked, as he took a step back and looked at her, probably to make sure she wasn’t crying.

Morgan shrugged, blinking back the tears that had welled up in her eyes. “The moving company will send me an estimated time of arrival.”

“Well, that’ll give us time to get you a storage unit until you get your own place. But for now, let’s get you settled at casa Morris. I have lasagna in the oven, and Tri and the kids made you a special dessert—and I’m not sure I was supposed to tell you that.” He grimaced. “That may or may not be a surprise.”

“I promise, I’ll act surprised.”

Her uncle opened her door for her, piled her suitcases into his car, and then joined her in the front seat. As she buckled her belt, she felt so far removed from the girl who got off that plane. This was her new life on the east coast—without her mom.

He left the truck in park. “So, how have you been since the funeral?”

“I really don’t know what I am. It’s all been kind of a blur. But I do need to thank you and Aunt Tri for all you’ve done. There’s no way I could’ve gotten through it all on my own.”

“Don’t even mention it, Morgan. You show up for family.” He put the truck into gear and pulled away from the building. “We better get out of the pick-up lane before we get a ticket.”

Silence filled the vehicle as they pulled away from the airport. With each passing sign on the highway, she felt farther and farther away from home.

But this was home now. Her home, with no job and no mom. Not anyone’s ideal start.

“Kiddo,” her uncle said, pulling her from her thoughts. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. You have us now.”

“I know.” She nodded thoughtfully. Her uncle was always someone she could count on. And she knew her family would do their best to make her feel at home. But it wasn’t that easy; no one would ever understand the pain of her loss unless they’d experienced it themselves.

Morgan sat in the quiet of her new bedroom. Slowly she unpacked her clothes—each item carefully folded just like her mom had taught her—and slid them into the drawers. Aunt Trina had done her best to make the guest room as comfortable as possible, and it really was a nice room, bigger than her room back home. It was probably more updated than any hotel she could’ve picked. Not that she wanted to waste the money on a hotel when she had family here.

Taking a framed photo of her with her mom out of her luggage, her heart ached as she stared at it. She remembered the day it was taken as though it were yesterday. They’d been at the local fair. Her mom had just bought their yearly mega-funnel cake, topped of course with strawberries—Morgan’s favorite. That had been their special yearly tradition at the fair, a tradition that she looked forward to.

Never would she have imagined that would be their last trip to the fair, and the last mega-funnel cake they’d share.

Taking a deep breath and doing the best to control her emotions, Morgan sat the photo on the dresser. Turning to look around the room, she was relieved to see that she was almost all unpacked. Well, besides the items coming with the movers. But most, if not all, of that stuff would be put in storage until she moved into her own place. There were just some things from home that she couldn’t let go of. Like the chairs she and her mom had picked out together last year. Or their matching rockers that had sat on their porch. They used to sit out there and watch the waves roll over the ocean.

A gentle knock on the door was followed by Trina’s soft voice, “Morgan, hon, dinner is almost ready.”

She could hear the kids giggling on the other side of the door, with Trina shushing them.

“I’ll be right down, thanks Aunt Trina.”

She squared off her shoulders. She didn’t have any choice but to live her life. She moved her glance to the table beside her bed, where she’d chosen to set her mom’s urn and another photo of her mom. Morgan was still here, and her mom wouldn’t have wanted her to spend her days moping in her room—even if that was what she really wanted to do.

Morgan opened her purse and pulled out a notebook. She read over her to-do list: Graduate, Find a job, Get an apartment. When she’d written the list, it had been more a motivational reminder than a to-do list. She added a few items: Take it day by day, Take it hour by hour, Breathe.

She could hear her mom’s voice in her head. “Morgan, the most important thing is that you enjoy life. Have fun.”

Having fun was something they’d always done together. Whether it had been their yearly mega-funnel cake, or driving in the convertible with the top down, dancing in the rain, or pigging out on ice cream sundaes, they’d always made it a point to have fun.

With a smile, she added one more thing to her list: Have Fun.

More giggling came from the other side of her closed door. This time she put a smile on her face. She tucked her notebook away, tip-toed to the door, then quickly swung it open. “Last one to the dinner table is a rotten egg!”

Willow and Hank both gasped in surprise when she opened the door, but soon broke into giggles again, as they turned and ran to the dining room.

If anything could bring her out of her sadness, it was those two. Staying here with her uncle and aunt had been a good decision—at least until she had an income. A smile filled her face as she called after her little cousins, “Here I come!”