What had she been like at eighteen, or twenty eight? Janie knew so little about her. And she was furious with her father for keeping all of this from her; for keeping her mother from her. She picked up one photo after another, photos of her mother in a wedding dress, her mother pregnant with her, her mother laughing in the garden with a baby on her hip.
And Janie didn’t know the story behind any of them. Tears streamed down her face- tears of sadness and hot, angry tears that stung her eyes.
She grabbed a stack of the photos and marched into the living room feeling like she’d swallowed a live wire.
“How could you do this?” Janie said, her voice hoarse. “How could you keep these from me?”
Her father looked up at her from over his readers, setting the paper he’d been reading down on the table beside his recliner. He noticed what she held and his face went pale.
“Aw, Pumpkin-” he began, rising to his feet.
“Don’t- don’t- call me that,” she hissed. “You have no right to play the doting father now. Why? When I asked you for photos, when I asked you for stories, you hid them from me. Why?”
When he didn’t answer, she felt something inside her snap.
“WHY?” she screamed, her voice breaking. “If you loved her so much, if you ever loved me, why would you do this?”
“Janie, baby,” her father replied, his own voice cracking. His chin quivered and he swiped at his eyes. “I never meant… I never meant to hurt you. I just missed her so much. It hurt so damn much. And I didn’t want you to ever feel that way. I didn’t want you to feel what I’ve felt for the last 24 years. It nearly destroyed me.”
“And you thought that if I never knew anything about her that I wouldn’t miss her? That I wouldn’t still feel like there was a hole in my heart?”
“Something like that,” he whispered.
“Well, you got it wrong,” Janie said angrily. “Instead of one hole, I ended up with two because she was gone and you were never really here.”
He didn’t respond, but Janie couldn’t let it go.
“She was dead, Daddy. What was your excuse?” she demanded. He drew back as if she’d hit him.
“I’m so sorry, Janie.”
“Sorry?” Janie scoffed. “You’re sorry? For what, exactly? For never telling me about my mom and leaving me with this… void in my life? For ignoring the way Nancy treated me? For never bothering to talk to me, to get to know me?”
“For all of it,” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry for all of it, Janie. If I could go back-”
“Well, you can’t,” she said, cutting him off. “It’s too late for that and it’s too late for us,” she added with a whisper.
“Don’t say that, Pu- Janie,” he begged, taking a step toward her.
“Don’t,” she warned. “I’m done.”
Janie turned on her heel and dashed up the stairs and into Makenna’s room, slamming the door behind her. She set the stack of photos down on the nightstand and fell onto the bed, sobbing like she hadn’t since she was in her teens.
Time passed, though she wasn’t sure how much. She heard a car pull into the driveway, the front door open and close, hushed voices talking downstairs and eventually a soft knock on the door of her room. She ignored it and when she heard the door open a crack, she lay motionless, facing the wall and pretended to sleep.
Eventually the light outside faded to black and though her tears had since dried up, she stayed there allowing images and memories to flow, one after the other, through her mind. Whether she liked it or not, it seemed the time had come for Janie to face the boogie man.
✽✽✽
Jackson had made up his mind. It was a big step, but he’d thought it through again and again and it was what he wanted. Not because he thought he was needed or that he had to step up and take on yet another responsibility. He wanted to do it for him.
He liked his job. He liked Connor and the guys. He even liked Sam, most of the time. And he wanted to start thinking about his own future. As much as he loved his family, his future was here.
“Got a second?” Jackson asked, poking his head into Connor’s office.
“Sure, what’s up?” Connor said, looking up from his computer.
“I was wondering if you’d offered the job to anyone else.” Jackson asked, taking a seat across the desk.
“Not yet. Why? Have you changed your mind?” Connor asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Not exactly,” Jackson said with a smile.
He spent the next half an hour laying out his proposal while Connor listened intently and nodded along.
“Now, I know my investment isn’t anything to write home about, but I’m willing to reinvest my share of the profit, outside of my salary, into the business.”
“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I am.” Jackson nodded. “Don’t tell him I said this, but you and Sam are damn smart and I know this company is going to keep growing. I want to be a part of that.”
“Well, we certainly appreciate your vote of confidence,” Connor replied, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll have to talk things over with Sam, but I think he’ll agree with me that it’s a good proposal. Especially once I tell him how smart you think he is.”
“Jesus, here we go,” Jackson sighed, shooting Connor a frustrated look. Connor just laughed and shook his head.
“That it?” Connor asked. There was one more thing, but Jackson was afraid to ask.
“One more thing,” Jackson said, sitting forward and licking his lips nervously. “I know you said not to ask, but-”
“She’s fine,” Connor said with a sympathetic look. “She’s still in Mississippi taking care of her dad, but… she’s okay.”
“Okay.” Jackson nodded, resisting the urge to ask for more. He stood to go but Connor called his back.
“Can I ask you something?” Connor asked when he turned back to face him.
“Shoot.”
“You love her?” Connor asked, scrutinizing him through narrowed eyes.
“Yes,” Jackson replied without hesitation. It was true and there was no point in denying it. Connor nodded once, firmly, and Jackson felt as though he’d just passed some kind of test.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Connor said, turning back to his computer. Jackson walked out of his office with a feeling of hope he hadn’t felt in weeks.
There wasn’t a day that had gone by that he hadn’t thought about Janie and wondered if there was still a chance for him. He’d wanted to call her at least a dozen times, but she’d never returned his call. With everything going on with her father, he didn’t want to add to her emotional burden. Besides, he felt like there were some things he needed to tell her face to face.
He’d been waiting for three weeks for her to come home. Three weeks on top of all the days before she left. If felt like an eternity. He’d even considered getting on a plane and going to her, but the last time he’d tried to step in was the reason she wasn’t speaking to him.
He was impatient and anxious, snapping at everybody, moody as fuck and completely at a loss to control any of it. Connor and Parker knew what was going on and cut him some slack, but even they had their limits.
Last night he’d been sitting in the living room with Parker, watching some movie, and he’d been preoccupied, fidgeting all over the place. Parker had finally told him to fuck off if he wasn’t going to pay attention to the movie. Jackson had silently retreated to his bedroom to worry in solitude.
At least now he knew Janie was doing alright. If she wasn’t, Connor would know because Alexandra would probably have been on a flight out there by now. As long as Alexandra was still in New York, Janie had to be doing at least okay.
That didn’t stop him from worrying about her, though. Was she eating enough? Was her father being any less of a douchebag than he’d been before? Was Makenna helping her or driving her crazy? Had Nancy shown up yet, or was she still MIA?
He wanted to call and
ask her all these things, and tell her so many other things, but he knew he couldn’t. He needed to be patient, but he’d waited so long to finally be with her that the idea of waiting any longer to have her back in his arms was torture.
But he finally had a plan and there was no time like the present to get the ball rolling. He didn’t know how long Janie would be away, but he knew she’d be back for Alexandra’s wedding, come hell or high water.
There’s no way she’d miss it and let Alexandra down, even if it meant she’d have to see him again. It might be his last chance to make things right and show her how much he cared about her. He was just going to need a little help.
He pulled out his phone and hit one on his speed dial. Someone picked up immediately, as he knew they would.
“Mijo? Is everything okay?” His mother asked, concerned. He felt a pang of guilt that she would immediately think there was something wrong just because he was calling, but he pushed it aside and vowed to himself to call more often.
“No, Mami. It’s not. I messed up. Bad. And I need your help to fix it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The next morning, Janie woke up feeling drained, but in a good way. She’d hardly slept all night. Instead, she spent it remembering all the things she’d tried not to think about. There were a few good memories here, but they were far outweighed by the utterly terrible.
But she’d thought about them all, cried when she needed to, and by the time the sun came up she was done crying. She’d faced all the demons her memories held, sat with her feelings, and then let them go, one by one, like dandelion seeds in the wind.
She was exhausted and puffy-eyed, but there was a good kind of emptiness inside her, like she’d been carrying around a bowling ball’s worth of sadness and anger and now it was gone.
She sat up, stretched and looked out at the morning. The rain had cleared up during the night and the sun was up and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. She snorted as she remembered that song about seeing clearly now that the rain was gone.
“Don’t be a sap,” she muttered to herself as she stood and picked out some clean clothes for the day.
She’d meant what she said yesterday to her father. She was done with all of it. She was going to go back to New York and let it all go. She’d been here for close to a month and Alexandra’s wedding was less than two weeks away. She should be in New York helping her finalize the details and triple checking the plans for her bachelorette party.
She took her clothes into the bathroom with her and took a long, hot shower. She dressed, leaving her hair to air dry while she packed her suitcase. She looked around the room to make sure she hadn’t missed anything and spotted the pile of photos she’d set on the nightstand the night before.
Screw it…
She put them on top of her clothes in her suitcase and zipped it shut. She would take them back to New York and have copies made and then mail the originals back to her father. There was no way she was letting him keep these from her any longer.
Packed and ready to go, she picked up her phone to book her flight. There was a knock on the door and it opened a crack before she even answered.
“Janie?” her father said hesitantly. “I know you don’t want to talk to me, but if you’re leaving, I just wanted to give you a few things to take with you.”
Janie really didn’t want to talk to him, and she had already packed the photos, but curiosity got the better of her.
“Come in,” she said tersely.
Her father pushed the door open and walked in carrying a cardboard box. He set it gently on the bed next to her and immediately took a step back.
He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to tell him to go. Instead, she opened the box and looked inside. There were more photos, neatly stacked in one corner of the box. A bundle of letters tied with ribbon was tucked in beside them and the rest of the box was filled with books. Mostly mystery novels and a few volumes of poetry.
Janie looked at her father, confused.
“They were hers,” he said simply. He shrugged and looked away. “I was never much of a fan of that type of thing, but your mom… your mom loved them. These were her favorites.”
Janie picked up the top book, which happened to be the same one she’d planned to read yesterday, Murder on the Orient Express.
Janie opened it and flipped through the pages once more.
“That paper in there is the number of a safe deposit box at the bank,” her father explained, nodding at the slip of paper she’d found when she picked up the book. “There were certainly things I didn’t want to keep in the house, jewelry and the like, so I opened that box after she died. Your name’s on it. You can go and look whenever you want, take whatever you want.”
Janie understood what he didn’t say. Either Nancy wouldn’t have been happy about keeping those things, or she’d have wanted them for herself.
“Thank you,” Janie said stiffly. That would change her plans a bit. Maybe she could get in today and fly home tomorrow.
“Those are letters we wrote to each other in college,” her father offered, his voice unsteady. “We were high school sweethearts, but your Mami was smart as a whip. She got accepted at Ole Miss and I sent her off to college telling her I’d be right here when she got back.”
Janie was silent as she tried to absorb the information her father was giving her.
“It was only a few hours away, so I’d drive up and see her when I wasn’t working weekends at the store. Mr. Jenkins owned the hardware store then and I was just a lowly stock boy. Fresh outta high school, no experience, no college degree. It was the best job I could find. So, I worked hard for four years while your Mami was away at school, and by the time she graduated I was an Assistant Manager and making enough money to buy her a ring.”
“What did she study?” Janie asked in a small voice.
“Nursing,” Her father replied, his voice thick with emotions.
“She was a nurse?” Janie asked.
“Yeah. A good one, too,” he nodded, a sad smile flitting across his face.”
“So, you proposed?” Janie prompted, wanting more of the story. She might never get this chance again.
“The summer after she graduated. July 4th, 1991,” he recited as if the date was one he’d never forget. “We were married two months later, bought this house together and then, three years later, you were born.” He paused, clearing his throat.
“Your mother was… tenacious,” he chuckled softly. “She worked all through her pregnancy and any time anyone told her she shouldn’t work so hard or she should stay home and rest more, she would read them the riot act. She worked right up until the day you were born. She loved her job. And she loved you. So much, Janie.”
“Did she name me?” Janie asked, a tear slipping down her cheek. She’d asked her father many times why he’d given her such a ridiculous name. She’d gotten picked on more than once about it, but he’d never told her. He would just say that Janis Joplin had been a national treasure and leave it at that.
“Yes, she did,” he said with a nod. “She loved Janis Joplin. Called her a rebel icon.” He laughed at the memory. “I tried talking her out of it, but she was insistent and, when it came right down to it, I couldn’t deny that woman anything.”
“But don’t think I she was spoiled,” he quickly added. “She was never one to ask for fancy gifts or expensive things. All she ever wanted was more flowers for her garden or a silly trinket here and there. And my time.”
“Did she know she spelled it wrong?” Janie asked with a wry smile.
“That was her one concession to me.” He nodded.
“Was she happy?” Janie asked, wiping at her face.
“Your mother,” her father said, choking back tears. “Was vivacious and stubborn and ridiculous and capable and so, so happy. I’d like to think I had something to do with it, but I think your mother just always found the good in things and people. It was just the way she was.
She was filled with light and everything and everyone she touched became brighter. And she would do anything for the people she cared about.” He smiled sadly. “I just wish she would have let me do more for her.”
“What do you mean?” Janie asked. Her father paused for a moment, clearly struggling for words. He suddenly smiled and moved to sit down on the bed beside the box. He looked at her and his smile widened.
“When I proposed, we were so young. I’d saved for months for a ring, but it still wasn’t much. It wasn’t what she deserved. After we were married, she helped me buy the shop from Mr. Jenkins when he retired. I didn’t want to use the money she’d worked so hard for, but she insisted. She said I was worth investing in.”
“So,” he sighed. “After you were born, I went out and bought her a new ring. I gave it to her on our last… our last anniversary. Can you believe she got mad at me?”
“She did?”
“Royally mad. She yelled at me in the restaurant in front of God and everyone. I couldn’t understand it. She told me that if she’d wanted a new ring, she would have gotten one herself. But she didn’t need a new ring, thank you very much, and I needed to take it back to wherever I got it from and get my money back.”
Janie smiled, a warmth spreading through the vacant places in her heart. It stung, but it also soothed.
“There’s so much of her in you,” he said, smiling fondly, eyes watering.
They sat in silence for a long moment as Janie absorbed all that he’d told her and considered the possibility that maybe they might eventually be able to mend their relationship.
“You know this doesn’t magically fix everything,” she said finally, staring down at the hard wood floor.
“I know,” he said softly.
“But… It’s a start.”
“Does this mean you’ll stay a little longer?” he asked.
“One more week. Then I really need to get back,” Janie said.
“Of course. I know you have a life of your own.” Her father climbed to his feet and headed for the door.
Her Defender (MacLachlan Security Group Book 2) Page 23
