This Much is True

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This Much is True Page 10

by Louise, Tia


  This beautiful girl is way more than I bargained for that early morning halfway between San Francisco and LA, and I don’t know what to expect when we reach Fireside.

  Hope

  John Roth Dunne just blew my mind, and now he’s breaking my heart.

  I’m sitting on his lap with my dress around my waist still aching from that incredible ride on his massive cock, and all I want is to do it all again.

  He said he’d never lie to me, and I know he means it. Still, when he kisses me that way, I feel more than I’ve ever felt in my life. What’s happening here is special.

  “Seriously, guys? Where the fuck are you?” Scout’s voice breaks our moment, and I’m off JR’s lap in a flash, pulling my dress up and removing my destroyed panties.

  He’s right beside me, jerking his jeans over his hips and buttoning his shirt. Warm hands cover mine, and he takes my underwear, slipping them into his pocket.

  Arching an eyebrow, I step into my boots. “What are you planning to do with those?”

  “Refresh my memory.” His gaze is wicked, and it curls my toes… just as Scout breaks through the trees.

  He takes one look at us and shakes his head. I’m sure it’s very clear what just happened. My hair is a wild mess on my head, and I’ve got sand stuck to my legs. JR’s shirt is untucked, and he’s doing his best to bury the evidence.

  Scout pivots, returning the way he came. “Time to get on the road, people. Let’s go.”

  My bottom lip is between my teeth, and I cover a snort with my hand before JR grabs my wrist, leading us through the woods to the car.

  A large, brown paper bag is beside me on the backseat, and the wind whips through the car as we fly towards Charleston.

  “What’s this?” I pull the top open.

  “I got Heidi to box up all the food my insane brother ordered then walked out without touching.”

  “You think it’ll keep?” JR glances back.

  “Hell, I don’t know. But children are starving in Africa, and I’m not letting that much food go to waste.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t. I’m starved.” Reaching inside, I take out a foil container and remove the cardboard lid. “Jackpot!”

  Lifting out a piece of fried chicken, I take a big bite, exhaling a groan.

  “Hand me one.” JR shifts around, and I grab the next container down.

  “Glad to see you worked up an appetite.” Scout cuts his brother a look as JR cracks open the corned beef hash and takes a big bite.

  “I kind of had a moment back there.” He sounds apologetic, but his brother derails that train.

  “Fuck, yeah, you did. You deserved to. I wish I’d known you didn’t know.” He gives JR a glance. “You still want to go home first?”

  JR exhales heavily. “I still want to see my son.”

  “Home it is.”

  The closer we get to the coast, the narrower the roads become. The trees are spaced out more, and palms fill the shoulders of the road now. We might be close to Charleston, but Fireside is a small town.

  Entering on Main Street, a large banner hangs over the road reading “The Palm is Sacred.”

  “Looks like they still haven’t changed the town motto.” Scout laughs, and JR shakes his head.

  “I bet Alice is still circulating a petition.”

  “Who’s Alice?” I slide forward on the backseat.

  “Our grandmother.” Scout exhales a noise. “She’s a trip. She’s an awesome grandmother, don’t get me wrong, but she’s a trip.”

  Leaning my head on my hand, I study him. “In what way?”

  “She was our mom’s mom, and she taught at the high school until she retired. Then she because the town historian, and…”

  He doesn’t finish. “And?”

  “She says the town was founded by some cult.” JR shakes his head, looking out the window. “She’s harmless.”

  “Was it?” I look from one brother to the next, and Scout only shrugs.

  “I don’t think there’s any definitive evidence. The town council has always maintained it gives the place color.”

  “It’s ancient history.” JR’s demeanor changes the farther we get into town, becoming more surly.

  Another sign reads Welcome to Historic Downtown Fireside, and Scout stops at the only red light. When the signal changes, he takes a right into what looks like a historic neighborhood.

  The houses are large and pretty with white front porches and lots of wood details. The yards are well manicured with large gardenia bushes and tall crepe myrtle trees. Palms are everywhere, and some of the houses have the state flag on them, that palm tree with the crescent moon. It’s very Americana, and my heart beats a little faster when we pull into a driveway. I’ve heard so much about these people. Now I’m going to meet them.

  Scout kills the engine in front of an enormous house with a mixture of live oaks and palm trees in the front yard. Ivy climbs all over the red-brick wall lining the sidewalk, and a large fountain is in the center. The two-story, white-wooden house seems very grand and very old.

  “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.” JR steps out of Metallicar, pausing with his hands on his hips as he surveys the place.

  His brother opens the driver’s side door and steps out as well, and I wonder if I should wait in the backseat or follow them.

  It doesn’t matter as the front door opens and a pretty blonde woman walks slowly out onto the front porch. She pauses, crossing her arms, and a slight breeze pushes her long, straight hair over one shoulder.

  I’m not sure what I was expecting of Becky, but this wasn’t it. I expected a more hapless young person, a former cheerleader who dated the high school football star and accidentally got pregnant in college. A young woman who was stunned by her husband’s arrest and imprisonment and perhaps rushed to get a divorce out of fear.

  The actual person looks like she’s never been afraid a day in her life. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s only a few years older than me, but she’s dressed like a much older woman in navy slacks and an ivory twinset. A strand of large pearls is around her neck, and she’s clearly not happy to see her ex-husband.

  Her thin lips press into a line, and her voice is low, almost like she’s a smoker. “What a surprise. You’re home early.”

  “Actually, I’m eighteen months late.” JR isn’t smiling. His expression is grim. “Where’s my son?”

  “You always did have such a charming personality. I should’ve known you wouldn’t care how I’ve been.”

  “I’ve heard how you’ve been, not that you ever told me.”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything. We’re not married anymore.”

  “You didn’t tell me anything when we were married.”

  I’m on edge listening, analyzing every word they say for any hint he still has feelings for her. I hear none.

  He drops his chin and exhales slowly. “I didn’t come here for you. I came to see my son.”

  “Hello, Scout. You’re looking well, considering you’re an utter embarrassment to your father.”

  My jaw drops. What a bitch!

  Scout only laughs. “Damn, Becky. I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any more obnoxious. Guess I was wrong about that, too.”

  “You’re usually wrong about everything.” Her arms are still crossed, and she turns to go back inside the house. “Your father isn’t here. He’s at the gym.”

  JR starts walking to the house, and my heart hammers in my chest. “I want to see my son.”

  Becky spins on her heel, and her voice is a sharp command. “Don’t you step foot on this porch, or I’ll call the sheriff.”

  I’m surprised her threat actually stops JR in his tracks… then my mind drifts to his strange behavior when we saw the roadblock in Texas.

  He lifts his chin, his ice blue eyes scanning the enormous house. “Jesse?” He calls loudly. “Jesse?”

  Becky rushes to the top step holding out her hand. “Stop shouting.
What will the neighbors think?”

  “I don’t give a shit.” JR snaps, yelling again. “Jesse!”

  “He’s not here. He lives with Alice now. Bill said he’d already done the daddy thing and isn’t interested in doing it again.”

  She’s still speaking, but JR has signaled Scout, and they’re jogging back to where I’m waiting in Metallicar. They jump in on both sides, and Scout turns the key. It’s the first time I’ve been so proud of the way it roars to life like a true muscle car.

  Scouts slams it into reverse and backs out of the drive. He gives the gas a little pump, and it makes a loud roar as we leave the Ice Queen standing on the front porch clutching her pearls.

  He shakes his head. “That girl’s only a year older than me, right?”

  “She’s aging in dog years.” JR grumbles, and I can’t resist.

  “Because she’s a total bitch?”

  Scout lifts his chin and exhales a laugh. “I get it. Bitch, dog years. Good one.”

  He holds his palm back, and I slap it. JR doesn’t smile, and I feel a little guilty. I don’t normally dump on ex-girlfriends… or ex-wives, but that woman is the worst, from what she said to Scout to how she spoke to JR.

  He’s silent the rest of the drive, and my stomach is in knots. Our moment in the woods was so hot and amazing, and to me, it felt like it meant something. It felt like we connected in a deeper way, a real way.

  Now he’s right back to where he was the first day we met—angry and withdrawn and not looking at me at all. I know he has so much pressing on him, he’s learned so much so fast… Still my heart aches with longing for him as I watch the scenery change outside the window.

  The houses are growing smaller and closer together on this end of town, with shaggy wisteria draping over the trees. The yards aren’t as pristine, and I don’t see a single brick wall or ivy-lined fountain.

  Finally, we pull into the driveway of what looks like a two-bedroom, red brick house. It has a white front door and a single-car, concrete driveway to the side. White, floral cast-iron columns stand on each corner, and the front door flings open right when Scout kills the engine.

  “Oh, my gracious! My word!” A small lady in a red blouse and white pants with a teased helmet of white hair scuttles out the door. Both her arms are stretched over her head, and her face is beaming. “Both my boys are home at last! It must be Christmas!”

  “Hey, Gran.” Scout leans down and picks her up in a hug, making her squeal.

  “Bradley Scout! Put me down before you crush me.”

  He gives her a shake side to side instead, and she fusses more. “Put me down! My old bones can’t take all this man-handling.”

  JR cracks a grin, and it makes me smile from where I wait beside the car. His brother finally releases their tiny grandma, and she fusses, straightening her shirt and patting her hair.

  “That boy, I swear.” Then she sees her other grandson and clasps her hands under her chin. “Oh, my John. Thank the Lord you’re home! Come and give me a hug, my sweet boy. How are you?”

  “I’m fine.” He goes straight to her, bending down to hug her gently. “How are you feeling, GA?”

  “Well, I got this reflux giving me trouble. The doctor says I might have to have my gall bladder removed, but my gynecologist thinks it’s an overreaction.”

  Scout calls from the front porch, “Don’t talk about your gynecologist, Gran!”

  She waves at him. “You’re a grown man, you know about these things. Anyway, I wasn’t talking about my female parts.” Her blue eyes land on me, and she grabs JR’s arm. “Who is this angelic creature? Is she with you, John?”

  Warm embarrassment floods my cheeks. “Hi, there.” I do a little wave.

  “Well, come here, young lady, I can barely see you that far away.” She squints at me, smiling, then her eyes go over my shoulder. “Although I can see that gorgeous car you’re driving. Scout is that your car?”

  “It’s mine, GA, and this is our friend, Hope.” JR waves me closer, but my stomach sinks. Their friend.

  “Well, you’d better snatch her up quick.” The little lady pulls me into a hug. “You’re just as pretty as a picture, Hope. What are you doing with these wild boys?”

  “She helped us drive from California, Gran. JR bought the car from her. Or her dad.”

  “Good gracious, did you three drive all the way from California?” Her wrinkled, spotted hand presses to her chest again. “You must be absolutely exhausted! Come inside, and I’ll make some sweet tea.”

  “Now tell me, Bradley, have you met that RuPaul fellow yet?” She takes Scout’s arm. “I just love him. He is so funny!”

  “I’m not a drag queen, Gran.”

  “I know that, but isn’t he part of your audience?”

  “Gran!” Scout cries, as she leads us into the tiny house.

  “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, Bradley Scout!” She leaves us in a small living room with plastic on the backs of the furniture. “I just don’t like you taking your clothes off for money. If you were my granddaughter, I’d say the same thing.”

  The sound of glassware clinking comes from the kitchen, and JR is scanning the place. He goes to a short hall and looks down it.

  “The good Lord makes us the way he makes us, and it’s up to us to do what we will with the talents we’re given.” She returns to the room carrying a tray with four tall glasses of iced tea on it.

  “I’m not gay, Gran. I thought I was taking headshots, and things got twisted.”

  She straightens, making a disappointed face. “Now, Bradley Scout. I might be old, but I know a thing or two. You don’t take your clothes off for a headshot.”

  “GA?” John slides his hand onto her arm. “I really want to see Jesse. Is he here?”

  “Oh…” The old lady’s eyes warm, and she smiles at him. “He is just the most adorable thing. It’s like having you all over again.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “Well, of course you can!” She hands her eldest grandson a glass of tea. “You have to wait for him to get home from kindergarten.”

  “He’s at school?” My eyes go wide. “And he lives with you?”

  “Oh, don’t you fret dear. You know those St. Johns have always been a bit…” She sits on the couch, raising her eyebrows and looking away, which I take to mean snotty, bitchy, pretentious. I couldn’t agree more. “But his mamma has him in this very small group of kids. Learning pods, they’re calling it. It’s supposed to limit their exposure, but it might end up being better than regular school.”

  “When does he get home?” JR sets his glass of tea on the tray.

  “What time is it?” She looks up at the clock, and I hear a car pulling up out front.

  A sharp honk of a horn, and a young woman’s voice calls.

  “That’s Trudy now… You remember Trudy Barnett? She picks the kids up after school…”

  JR’s grandmother is still speaking as the door opens, and the cutest little boy-voice shouts into the room. “Hey, Gran! I’m home!”

  My eyes flicker to JR, and his brow is raised. His lips are parted, and when I see the mist in his eyes, mine fill with tears.

  Jr

  When I was in that fucking cell, as much as I hate to admit it, there were times I wondered if I’d been a bad husband. Maybe I was too gruff or not sensitive to Becky’s needs or whatever women say.

  When she walked out on that porch looking as old as her mother and equally as bitchy, I almost thanked her. It was the closure I’d needed for fifteen months.

  My dad was always preoccupied with the St. Johns and the stuff they had, the trips they took, and what they were doing…

  What did Hope call it? Fetishizing wealth?

  I couldn’t have cared less.

  When she turned up pregnant during my last year of college, I didn’t care what those people said about her trying to hold onto me or whatever, and it didn’t matter if it was a boy or a girl. I just wanted to be a dad.
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  Now I’m standing in my grandmother’s living room, and my heart is beating out of my chest.

  Jesse James Dunne runs in, looking just like my brother always did.

  His hair is darker blond now, but his eyes are clear as the blue sky. His voice is little-boy cute. It’ll drop once he hits puberty and has to deal with all that shit, but right now, he’s still a boy.

  He’s innocent and sweet, and I wonder if he’s still into football.

  It’s been eighteen months, and I want to scoop him up in my arms. I want to hug him close to me and smell his hair.

  I want to touch his face like I did when he was a baby and tell him all the cool things we’re going to do when he gets bigger.

  Now he’s a lot bigger.

  And I don’t want him to be afraid of me…

  “Jesse, there’s somebody here to see you.” GA stands, looking from him to me.

  I’m not sure if I should go to him or stay where I am or bend down… None of it matters.

  “DADDY!” He shouts so loud, my heart skips.

  Like a streak of light, he runs across the room, and I drop to my knees.

  I catch him under the arms and lift him to me, holding his small body tight, blinking away the heat in my eyes.

  He feels the same but bigger. He feels like my son. He’s sturdy and strong, and he smells like he’s been playing in the grass and having fun.

  “Jesse.” My voice cracks.

  So many emotions flood my chest, I’m doing good to hold on, and that’s just what I do. I hold onto my little man.

  “I made this when I was in Latin class.”

  “Latin in Kindergarten?” I look to my grandma, and she just shrugs. “That’s amazing, J.”

  “Did you know the gladiators spoke Latin? Mr. Perkins told us that. He even has a real gladiator shield. He let us touch it. Then he showed us how you use it to protect yourself if somebody was coming at you with a knife.”

  “Lord have mercy, Jesse, take a breath!” GA puts a plate in front of my son with a cookie and a glass of milk. “You’re going to hyperventilate.”

 

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