Something Complicated (Dirty Southern Secrets Book 1)

by J. L. Leslie

  A lot of the people who attend Chapelwood Baptist tend to take his sermons with a grain of salt. The ones who you have to watch out for are the older members who think everything is a sin, including women wearing pants. They will rip you to shreds and tell you “bless your heart” when they’re finished.

  “I’m going to go get Willow,” I tell my mama and start back to the nursery.

  Our church nursery is designated for babies and kids up to three years old, but Willow loves it in there, so they let her stay. She has no interest in going across the hall to where the other kids go for children’s church. I’m certain it’s because she gets an endless supply of snacks in the nursery.

  “Was it me, or was Pastor Jacobs casting us into the flames of hell this morning?” Tauren asks, falling into step beside me.

  “I always wonder how he knows what we were all doing. He seems to know where everyone was on Saturday night and what sins we were committing.”

  “Well, I know one I wasn’t committing,” Tauren grins, his gaze fixated on Helene Jacobs, Pastor Jacobs’ daughter. “I’ll gladly go into the flames, just take me under!”

  “Don’t even think about it,” I warn him. “She’s a grown woman and he still keeps her under lock and key.”

  “He tries to, but I happen to know what she likes to be under, and it isn’t lock and key.”

  I roll my eyes. “You do realize we’re in God’s house, right?”

  “And I thank God for his creation every day.”

  “Da-yee!” Willow squeals. She has yet to perfect those middle “dd’s” in the word daddy. “Taur!”

  She bypasses me when she sees Tauren and runs straight to him. He lifts her into his arms, holding her close. I have told him several times that she will not break, but he still feels like shit for her falling on his watch. Says he failed her.

  I know she will have many more falls.

  Failures too.

  Jenna

  “Angie Holt was polite enough to invite us, so stop sulking, Jenna,” my grandma scolds. “No one gives a rat’s ass that Pastor Jacobs was talking about you in church this morning. I enjoy a good, cold beer myself every once in a while. I even drink mine through a straw. Gets me buzzed faster.”

  “I’m not sulking, Grandma. Just didn’t know we were coming to the Holts’ house for lunch. I may have had plans.”

  “Well, now you know.”

  I sigh in annoyance and she gives me a look that only she knows how to give. My grandma is a bossy old woman, not taking any crap from anybody, including my grandpa. He thought he would get out of lunch today, but he’s slowly making his way onto the porch, grumbling to himself in the process about how he should be working on his tractor.

  The two of them bicker back and forth constantly, but they’ve been married for over forty years. They were granted custody of me when my parents moved to Japan for my dad’s job. I was in high school then and that’s when I joined up with Brynn and the Holt brothers.

  I still talk to my parents often, but they never relocated back to the U.S. My dad still works for the banking company and my mom spends her time teaching young children how to speak English. I guess that’s where I get the desire to teach. She always enjoyed putting on some sort of class, whether it was cooking or knitting. It didn’t matter to her. She wanted to teach people how to do things.

  “Angie, thanks so much for inviting us,” my grandma says when Mrs. Holt opens the door.

  “We wanted to make sure Jenna had a proper welcome back to Chapelwood. It’s been a long time.”

  The last time I saw Angie and her husband, Neil, was when Willow was born. We were in the hospital room with Brynn and Kaler when the doctor told them of Willow’s diagnosis. The next time her name was mentioned was when Brynn was telling me Angie hated her for leaving her son and granddaughter.

  I was never really that close to Angie or Neil Holt, but they were always kind to Brynn and me. Always had their doors open for five hungry teenagers after school and on the weekends.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Holt,” I tell her as I step inside. “It smells wonderful.”

  “If I recall correctly, you always enjoyed my fried chicken.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I answer with a nod.

  Grandpa files in behind me, no longer complaining that he’s not able to work on his tractor now that the smell of chicken has invaded his nostrils. We follow Angie into the house, and I see that not much has changed. Same living room suit and curtains decorate the house. I still get the same warm, cozy feeling I always used to get. The only differences are in the pictures.

  Willow’s adorable face now adorns the walls instead of high school pictures of the Holt brothers. While I’m admiring them, she comes into the living room, sippy cup in hand. I stifle a giggle because she’s shirtless, wearing only a hot pink skirt.

  “Willow, good grief,” Angie huffs, picking her up. “I’ll be right back once I get this one dressed. Ya’ll head into the kitchen and have a seat. Neil can fix ya’ll some tea.”

  My grandparents go into the kitchen and I stay behind to finish looking at the pictures of Willow. I was there the day she was born but I didn’t keep up with her life when I left for school. I remember telling myself that if Brynn was no longer with Kaler then I had no right, but Kaler was my friend too. I should’ve reached out. I can only imagine how difficult things were for him.

  “The food is ready.”

  Kaler stands with his arms crossed over his chest. The button-up he wore to church is gone and he’s wearing only a white tee and the khakis he had on. I try not to stare at hime, especially since his face is like stone. He appears to be annoyed that I’m in here, as though I’m an intruder invading his life. Like I’m seeing these photos that I’m not supposed to, or better yet, don’t deserve to.

  “I like this one,” I tell him, pointing to one of Willow dressed up as a princess. He’s holding her, an adoring smile on his face.

  “She only wore the crown long enough to take the picture,” he lets me know. “She kept throwing it down.”

  I smile at that. “This is a good one as well.”

  It’s one of the two of them fishing. As I continue to look, I notice there are no pictures of Brynn. She left when Willow was less than a month old. She told me she’s seen her, but I’m not really sure how often. Does she have photos of her at her place?

  “Are you going to come eat?” he asks me, his patience clearly wearing thin.

  I tear myself away from the pictures, away from the memories of their life together, and head into the kitchen. I stop for a moment when I reach him and put my hand on his shoulder.

  “You’re doing an amazing job with her, Kaler.”

  I mean those words too. It couldn’t have been easy to raise her as a single father, regardless of her diagnosis. The love of his life walked out on him and he was left behind to pick up the pieces.

  Chapter Five

  Kaler

  I tuck Willow into her bed, covering her up even though I know she will kick the blanket off during the night. She never stays covered up and never has. Even as a baby she would wiggle and move until she was free of the blanket. She gets that after me.

  Once I know that she won’t wake up, I slip out of her room and down the hall. I pick up my iPad from the floor and take it with me to the couch. I consider finding a football game to watch on television but I click on the icon that holds my photos and videos instead.

  My wedding day fills the screen. Brynn’s beautiful, smiling face gazes up at me as we say our wedding vows. Our first dance as husband and wife.

  When I purchased her engagement ring, Kipton tried to talk me out of it. Said we weren’t ready. We were too young. It was right after high school and I’d been saving so there was no way I wasn’t going through with it.

  Proposing to Brynn seemed like the next step in our relationship. We were childhood sweethearts, having started dating in middle school. If I didn’t marry Brynn, I had no idea what to do with my lif
e. I had no idea what my life was supposed to be without her in it.

  So, I asked her, and she said yes. We agreed to a long engagement to appease both of our parents. They both said the same thing Kipton did. We were too young. We didn’t need to rush into anything.

  We wanted to live together first, but that wasn’t happening. Those southern values kicked in and we waited to buy this house until we were married. We hadn’t planned on getting pregnant so quickly though. Neither of us were ready for that, but a missed birth control pill made that decision for us.

  Damn, I watch the video of our wedding and see myself in another life. A different man. I thought I had everything then. I was on top of the world. It’s terrifying how quickly that can come crashing down.

  I swipe the screen, moving away from the video and to the photos. Our little group is featured in the majority of them. The Holt brothers along with Brynn and Jenna.

  I look at Jenna, at the smile on her face. It’s so genuine. So real. I continue to scroll and each time, Jenna catches my eye. I always thought of her as Brynn’s best friend. She was welcomed to our group with open arms. Now, I can see that she was more than that. She was my friend too. She was sort of like the glue that held us all together. When Brynn was in one of her moods, Jenna was the mediator for us. Anytime us Holt boys were arguing, Jenna was the one who diffused the situation. She was always there.

  I close that album and open a new one. Willow’s goofy smile now fills the screen. I laugh as my eyes water. She changed me.

  There was a time I didn’t want my own daughter. I prayed and prayed for God to change her. To make her normal. I didn’t know how to raise a baby, much less one with Down Syndrome.

  It was hard to tolerate the questions people kept asking. Why did she have this? What did the doctor’s say about her life expectancy? Did we plan on having more children so we could try for a normal one?

  Yes, people ask those kinds of questions. Then you start questioning yourself. Was it something that could have been avoided? Me and Brynn did that to the point where we could barely speak to each other without arguing.

  What did we do wrong? Should we have done some sort of tests? Why was God punishing us? It was difficult to accept that Willow’s diagnosis was not caused by anything we did or didn’t do. That we were not being punished.

  After Brynn left me, I considered putting Willow up for adoption. I even asked my mama if her and daddy wanted custody of her. I couldn’t do it. I could not raise her by myself. It hadn’t occurred to me that I was not alone.

  I had my parents, my brothers, and I even had Brynn’s parents. I could depend on them. I didn’t have to do it alone. Still, Willow was not a typical child. She was a special needs child and I was a single father. I had no clue what to do with her.

  My mama asked me once if I would have done something different if me and Brynn had known Willow would be born with Down’s. It took me a long time to answer her.

  No.

  Maybe I would’ve felt differently five years ago. I was a different man then. But now? I can’t imagine my life without my daughter in it, just the way she is.

  You’re doing an amazing job with her, Kaler.

  Jenna was being nice. Kind. Her words made me feel proud. When I second guess myself ninety-nine times out of one hundred, being told that I’m doing an amazing job with Willow makes that one time that I’m certain all worth it.

  Jenna

  I check the time again and frown. Kaler has not shown to pick up Willow yet and he’s never really late. I know I sent home the notice about today being an early dismissal day, but I wonder if he forgot. I check the computer for his number, but he doesn’t answer when I call. Maybe I should’ve reminded him Sunday when we had lunch at his parents.

  I get up from the new alphabet rug I purchased, where me and Willow are playing with blocks, and go look in the supply closet to see if there’s a booster seat or car seat of any kind. Surprisingly, there is a booster seat.

  “Willow, I’m going to take you to your daddy,” I let her know. “Is that okay?”

  She nods enthusiastically and climbs to her feet. We quickly put the blocks away and I grab my things along with her backpack. I hold her hand as we walk outside to my car. I know Kaler said he works at his dad’s shop and it isn’t far from the school.

  Willow and I sing the happy birthday song while I drive the short distance. I have quickly learned that it’s one of her favorite songs and she will sing it over and over as best as she can, inputting different names for whose birthday she wants it to be. By the time we arrive at Neil’s Paint & Body we’ve repeated it nearly eight times.

  I park at the side marked for customer parking and get Willow out of the back. I hold her hand, carry her backpack, and we go inside the shop. It smells of grease and Willow makes a face. Country music blares from a radio although I don’t see one. I’m sure it’s perched on a shelf somewhere between the bottles of oil and filters.

  “Well, hey there, pretty girl,” Neil Holt greets Willow and she runs to him. He picks her up despite his clothes being covered in engine oil. She doesn’t seem to mind. “Everything alright?”

  His question is directed at me. “Yes, absolutely. We had early dismissal today and Kaler hadn’t arrived so I thought it would be easiest to bring her.”

  Neil walks over to a car and kicks the feet that are sticking out from underneath it. Kaler rolls out from beneath the car and his eyes widen when he sees his father holding Willow. He jumps to his feet, wiping his hands on his pants.

  “What happened? What’s going on?” his voice is panicked.

  “Oh no, nothing, Kaler. School let out early today.”

  He furrows his brows. “School only started a week ago. Why is it letting out early already?”

  “There was an electrical issue. They closed the school to do an upgrade,” I explain.

  “You should’ve called me, Jenna,” he says, angrily.

  “I did. You didn’t answer,” I snap back at him. “You’re welcome for bringing your daughter safely to you. See you tomorrow, Willow.”

  I hand Kaler her backpack without another word and rush out of the shop. Ungrateful jerk. Any other teacher would’ve called and then went to the next number on the list until someone picked her up. I imagine he would’ve felt like shit for having one of his brothers or his parents pick her up when she’s used to him being there. He probably feels like shit anyway and that’s why he was rude to me. Still, it’s no excuse!

  “Jenna, I’m sorry!” Kaler reaches me when I open my car door, grabbing my arm. “I don’t know what the hell happened.”

  I place my hand on top of his. “You’re human, Kaler. You made a mistake. It happens.”

  His gray eyes drift down to where my hand rests on his and I ease it away. He releases my arm, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.

  “Thanks for bringing her to me. I appreciate it.”

  I manage a slight smile and then sink down into my car.

  “I’m sorry I was a douche,” he comments, the corner of his mouth tilting into a grin.

  “You’re forgiven,” I reply and close my door.

  I don’t watch him walk away. Then I’d be forced to admit that I checked his ass out and I am not going to do that. Not to my best friend’s ex-husband.

  Chapter Six

  Kaler

  To apologize to Willow for forgetting about her, because technically that’s what I did, we take a trip to Bailey’s Bait & Tackle when I get off work. My baby girl might be a princess, but she also loves fishing. Her favorite part about fishing is picking out lures though. The shiny, sparkly ones are her favorite. She also loves Junebug lizards.

  “Pish?” she asks, wanting to know when we’re going fishing.

  “We’ll go this weekend,” I answer her. “Gotta buy our stuff first so we’ll be ready.”

  I hold her on my side with one arm and the basket with the other. Every so often she tries to grab something off the shelf,
and I have to spin her away from it. It doesn’t take her long to figure out that’s fun for her, so she tries it every few seconds and turns it into a game.

  “Pish?” Willow asks a second time, and I know she’ll ask me a dozen more times before we leave the store.

  “Yes, we’re going to go this weekend.”

  We turn the corner and I attempt to flee but I’m not fast enough. I’ve been seen and I struggle to remember the woman’s name. We only shared a bed a few times after my divorce from Brynn. It was a lapse in judgment on my part and I’m ashamed to say I ghosted her.

  “Got your hands full, don’t ya?” she comments.

  “Yes, Andrea,” I draw her name out slowly, gauging her reaction to see if I’m using the correct name. Apparently, I do because she gives me a bright smile.

  “You do remember me.”

  “Um, yeah. It’s been a while.”

  Willow reaches for an item on the shelf and knocks it to the floor. I inwardly grown and Andrea bends down to pick it up. She puts it back on the shelf.

  “Sweetie, don’t do that,” she scolds and I glare at her. “You have to learn just like everyone else.”

  “Pish?” Willow asks and Andrea looks confused.

  “Is she trying to say fish?” she asks me.

  “Pish!” Willow repeats excitedly, knocking another item from the shelf. I quickly pick it up before Andrea has the opportunity to.

  “My God, Kaler, you really have to teach her,” she groans and mumbles, “She can’t even see fish.”

  “I’ll see you around.”

  I hear her say my name, but I ignore her. I don’t need anyone telling me what my kid needs to learn or getting onto them while I’m standing right there, especially a stranger. I’m doing the best I fucking can.

  “Pish?” Willow asks again.

  “Yes, Princess,” I sigh. “We’ll go fishing this weekend, like I promised.”

  After I answer her for the third time, she manages to grab another item off the shelf and toss it onto the floor.