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The Friendship Pact
Tara Taylor Quinn
This is a story for every woman who has a best friend…Bailey Watters and Koralynn Mitchell consider themselves "sisters of the soul." Their circumstances growing up couldn't have been more different; Kora came from a wealthy, privileged family, while Bailey's home life was hard. They'd do anything for each other. "I'd give you a kidney," they always say. There are no secrets between them–until there's one secret Bailey can't share.This is a story for every woman who's been in love.Danny Brown is the only man Kora's ever wanted, ever loved, and her marriage seems as flawless as everything else in her life. Bailey, however, doesn't want a husband. She does want a baby–but only by IVF. And the perfect donor, the perfect biological father, would be a man like…Danny.What happens when love and friendship collide?Kora might be willing to give Bailey a kidney. But what about a baby?
This is a story for every woman who has a best friend...
Bailey Watters and Koralynn Mitchell consider themselves “sisters of the soul.” Their circumstances growing up couldn’t have been more different; Kora came from a wealthy, privileged family, while Bailey’s home life was hard. They’d do anything for each other. “I’d give you a kidney,” they always say. There are no secrets between them—until there’s one secret Bailey can’t share.
This is a story for every woman who’s been in love.
Danny Brown is the only man Kora’s ever wanted, ever loved, and her marriage seems as flawless as everything else in her life. Bailey, however, doesn’t want a husband. She does want a baby—but only by IVF. And the perfect donor, the perfect biological father, would be a man like...Danny.
What happens when love and friendship collide?
Kora might be willing to give Bailey a kidney. But what about a baby?
The Friendship Pact
Tara Taylor Quinn
www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
Dear Reader,
I’ve written a lot of books. From thriller/suspense to romance, I’ve given you many kinds of stories. This one isn’t like any of them. It’s a story of heart. Of soul-searching. Of tough questions with no easy answers. It’s a story of relationships. Of friendship. It’s the story of two very different women who, as children, make a pact to travel life’s journey together.
I had a friend just like Koralynn has Bailey. Or Bailey has Koralynn. Like them, we met when we were just starting school. We were connected, Siamese twins of the soul, from the very beginning. Whenever I was with “J” my whole world lit up like Disneyland. I’ve never understood why she brought such magic to my life, but throughout our growing up and into adulthood, she was more special than anyone else. I can remember sitting on a dirt road with her when we were about fifteen talking about our futures. I was going to write for Harlequin. She wanted to go into the medical field. We were going to attend the University of Michigan together. Room together. We were going to be godmothers to each other’s babies. And be old ladies together.
We didn’t make it to college together; the reality of out-of-state tuition got in the way. But she studied nuclear medicine. And I write for Harlequin. She stood beside me for the christening of my daughter, becoming an official godmother, and I did the same for her. We ended up at different ends of the country, but her presence in the world was a star in my heart, giving me strength beyond anything I would’ve had alone. I could do whatever I had to because I knew “J” was there to pick up any pieces; I knew she could always put them back together.
Until life handed us something tragically unexpected. My “J” was killed in a car accident fourteen years ago this summer. But she was right here with me, speaking through my heart, a voice in my head, as Koralynn and Bailey came to life. And as this book comes to you, my goddaughter is bringing her firstborn, a daughter, MJ (the “J” is for her mother), into the world, a reminder that love—connection—never ends....
I’m delighted to hear from readers. You can reach me at www.tarataylorquinn.com (http://www.tarataylorquinn.com). And I’d love to hear your stories of friendship!
Tara
Dedication
To Jeanine Lynn Hall Clayton, you are my wind and my stars. To Buzz and Tanya Gonzales, congratulations on that new little spirit who will fill up your hearts with more love than you can imagine. And to Megan Jeanine Gonzales, welcome, little one. I know your grandma sends you to us!
Contents
Chapter One (#uc754f827-91e9-544f-af11-f9b52f1bf3f3)
Chapter Two (#uca4889c8-6ef0-5b66-a4d2-991e23f6a895)
Chapter Three (#u83b9219f-a47f-5a40-84fb-c6144b9962a1)
Chapter Four (#u7f40ead0-fd16-5e47-9d79-21085cd048ab)
Chapter Five (#ud59cef1c-f4da-529e-b724-97184d9f6016)
Chapter Six (#ud97ea572-c159-5684-a147-13f18df3b2f2)
Chapter Seven (#u04b2d4e5-93eb-578b-a40e-f34778823bfc)
Chapter Eight (#uab6f5f68-12bb-52a6-937b-9e21628b3451)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright
Chapter One
May 1997
“You asleep?”
“No, are you?” I guess the question was kinda dumb, but Bailey and I...we had our own code. It meant she needed to talk, and I was ready to listen.
“Uh-uh.”
When she didn’t say anything else, I started in. “It’s going to be okay, you know.” Her mom, who was drunk a lot, was getting another divorce, but Bailey would be fine this time. Neither of us liked Stan, her stepfather.
And my mom and dad would make sure Bailey was okay. Just like always.
Too bad they weren’t Bailey’s parents, too.
My one dark spot in life.
“No, it’s not, Koralynn. It’s not going to be okay.” Bailey’s voice sounded stern, even in a whisper. Not like she was going to cry. That I could deal with. It sounded more like...foreboding. I’d just read that word and now I understood exactly what it meant.
“You said that when you found out Brian had cystic fibrosis,” I reminded her in a calming whisper. Bailey adored her older brother. Her only biological sibling. I did, too. Brian was cool. And doing pretty well now that they knew what was wrong with him.
She flipped over on her back next to me in my queen-size bed, holding down the covers on both sides of her so the cold gusts of air didn’t get in. “He’s never going to have a normal life,” she whispered back. “Or have kids, either.”
“He’s alive.” At first they’d thought he wasn’t going to make it. “You said it wasn’t ever going to be okay again when your mom and dad got divorced, too.” Five years ago. We’d been ten at the time.
“And I was right.”
“You survived.” And we’d had a lot of great times since then.
“Yeah, and my dad lives in Florida and I hardly ever see him.”
I wasn’t doing so hot here. So I tried again.
“Your life is harder than mine, Bail. Your mom, with her drinking... It’s not fair and sometimes I feel so guilty....”
“Why? It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but look at me.... My folks are the greatest. We have a nice house and...” Wait, I was supposed to be making my best friend in the whole world feel better, not worse.
“It’s just...I don’t know why I get all the luck,” I told her. “You deserve it way more than I do.” All our lives it had been like that. And it wasn’t fair.
“It’s how life is, Kor. Different things happen to different people and we don’t know why. I mean, look at Brian. Cystic Fibrosis is a genetic disease, and both our parents were carriers so either of us could’ve gotten it. I didn’t. He did. Go figure.”
I shuddered, remembering those weeks when Brian had been so sick and they’d found out what was wrong and Bailey had to go through testing, too. We didn’t know if she was going to turn out to be sick and maybe die, and I could hardly stand it while we waited for the news. Bailey’s mom and dad were already not getting along, her mom was drunk all the time, it seemed, and they’d just found out about Brian. So no one really had time for Bailey. That was when Bailey had first started staying with us—more than for just a sleepover—and that night before we got the test results, Mom stayed up with us, sitting on my bed, one arm around each of us.
“Your folks were great, weren’t they?”
They’d promised Bailey they’d make sure that if she was sick, she’d get the best care available. They’d promised her they’d be there with her, every step of the way.
Mom was a stay-at-home mother, so she was always there—and Daddy, who worked in top management at a software firm, made enough to take care of one more if he had to. Besides, there was the money he’d inherited from his own father.
Bailey was fine, thank God. And now she had three drawers in my dresser and a lot of her clothes officially hung with mine in the big walk-in closet that used to hold shelves for all my toys.
We’d carted those up to the attic for my babies—when I was married and everything—to play with someday.
“I can’t believe my mom did this,” Bailey said now. “I mean I get why. Stan’s a jerk and she should’ve left him a long time ago, but for her to go and have an affair...”
I couldn’t believe that part, either. Not even with Bailey’s mom. Why make Stan madder? He’d found out a couple of days before and now Bailey’s mom had a black eye she wouldn’t go to the cops about and Stan was threatening to leave her high and dry with no alimony or furniture or car or anything.
“Stan seemed so nice in the beginning,” I said, shivering a little as I pictured the bearded man who scared the shit out of me.
“He’s fine until he starts drinking.”
“It sucks that he hid the whole recovering alcoholic thing until after they were married.” At least Bailey’s mom had been upfront about her own relationship with the bottle.
“And the hitting thing, too.” Bailey’s whisper changed.
Sitting up in bed, I stared down at my friend, my sister, the other half of my soul. “He didn’t hit you, did he?” I asked, ready to hit back. Funny, most times Bailey was the stronger one of us—the one who fought our battles. My job was to tend our wounds.
Or go to my parents to do it for us.
“No,” Bailey said. But she turned her head toward the wall and I was mad and scared all at once.
“Bail?”
I thought I saw a tear slide down the side of her face into the pillow. Leaning over her, I pushed her dark hair away from her eyes and said, “Bailey, tell me what he did to you.”
“It was nothing.”
My heart was pounding. “Bailey, tell me.” And then I was going straight to Mom. She’d know what to do. Where to go for help, even if Bailey’s mom wouldn’t call the cops.
“He...tried to kiss me.”
I could hardly breathe. I was freezing and frightened and... “Tried?”
