Nate (A Texas Jacks Novel)

by Unknown

  “She didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her. She did her best to keep up appearances, like she wasn’t sick but still healthy. She tried to her hardest to be involved with as much as her body would allow. Some days though, she wouldn’t be able to get out of bed. It got to the point that the rest of us stopped going out. No one wanted to be away from her. Carianna and I would come home during school lunch breaks to check on her. Dad eventually started working from home. When we couldn’t be there, due to obligations, we had friends and family stay with her around the clock. No one could bear to be a part from her, but sometimes you can’t help it, right? Heaven, we hated those times we had to leave her, not knowing if we would come home to find her gone. It was pure agony and you couldn’t concentrate on the tasks you had to accomplish.

  “Even Tucker and Holt started staying over all the time. Luckily their parents understood, and knew how much she loved them, and vice versa. Though, we had to be careful not to let anyone sick around her. Those were just as hard on us too, not letting close friends or family in.”

  He stops, and I hear nothing except the white noise of the house, as he mentally collects himself. My eyes burn with tears, as does my throat—as it tightens a little more, not allowing words to pass my lips. Even if I want to speak, I know there’s nothing I can say at this point, or that would penetrate his ears. I feel like he’s talking to me, yet he’s not. I now know that he’s talking about a lost parent, one he had a deep love and respect for. One who was his whole life. The reason he no longer gives his heart away fully, just partially. The only thing I can do is just lay here, hold his hand a little tighter, and let him get it all out. I just pray he doesn’t regret this by the light of day.

  “I had a serious girlfriend at the time.” He picks up the thread of the story again, with more new pieces of his life. “Her name is Heather. We had these great plans to marry after high school, and be just like my parents. Heaven, we were so young and so hopeful that love lasted forever. We wanted to keep their example going so we could pass it down to our children. I was going to own my own construction company with the guys, have a few kids, and even a dog. We planned to stay in town, so our kids could grow up with own their grandparents. I guess that was all wishful thinking. Now? There’s no way I can even think of subjecting anyone to that kind of pain. I can’t even imagine having a child at this point. I don’t want to image the day they would have to suffer the loss of a parent. How can life be so cruel, to take away a beautiful, vibrant woman? It’s horrible to think about, let alone speak about.” His whole body shudders. My ears are ringing from his words, my mind is going a million miles a minute, but all I can do is continue to lie still, and take his words in.

  “You know my truck? It was hers,” he quietly informs me with a deeper emotion in his voice, than previously. “She took such good care of it, like it was another child. The day she gave up the good fight, it was passed down to me.” His voice hitches. “I didn’t even want it, though she tried to talk to me about it closer to the end. I would do anything, trade anything, to have her back. I didn’t want her stupid truck. I just wanted her.” He curls into me more, holding on tighter. I listen as he silently sobs into my hair, but not daring to speak words I know nothing of to sooth his soul. I can only be the person he holds, while he lets his past come to life in the late hour of the night.

  We stay that way for a really long time until he eventually drifts back to sleep. His body relaxes, but I stay right there in the same spot, not wanting to leave. I don’t think my legs would work anyway. My whole body feels numb from staying in one position for so long, and I am just so tired. I know I should probably get up and head to the couch, but really—I can’t physically make myself do it. Instead, I just let my mind comb over his words until the darkness takes over and I fall asleep, with Nate wrapped around me for warmth and comfort.

  I’m looking at one of the most beautiful faces I love to see, wondering how she ended up here, in my bed. I don’t recall phoning her. Maybe one of the guys’ called her? I must have been really bad off last night for them to ask her to come over. I wouldn’t have thought they would ever go there, but apparently they did. My mind is still fuzzy from the details of the previous night.

  I feel like the worst jerk in the history of my life. The guys knew that I didn’t want her to come over here to see me in this sad state. It’s precisely why I didn’t call her myself, in the first place. Apparently Holt, or Tucker, had other ideas, thinking they know what’s best for me. They did try to tell me this the last time we all worked out together.

  There’s nothing I can do now, since she’s already here. I might as well make the best of it. I pepper kisses down her nose, across her cheek, then up her temple before coming down to her mouth. I lightly kiss her a few times, praying my breath isn’t disgusting from the Jack. She stirs, and I watch as her eyes slowly start to open.

  At first she seems shocked to see me until she realizes where she is giving me a timid smile. I’m not sure why she’s being this way. What did I say last night?

  “Come here, Charlie.” I softy order her.

  She still seems hesitant but rolls further into me, mumbling, “I wasn't sure what you were going to need, so I grabbed a garbage can, pain medicine, water and towel." she says with a shy hint to her voice.

  Well if that isn’t the kicker of all things grand. My girl comes to see me, I’m drunk and she’s gotten all of the things she thinks will help me feel better. What do I say to that? But before I can even say another word, she’s talking again.

  “To answer your earlier questions, yes, your sister called me to come take care of you.”

  “Wait, what?” I don’t recall anything about my sister being here. “What questions, and why was my sister here?”

  I know it’s the anniversary of my mom’s death, but Carianna isn’t usually around to watch me make a fool of myself. It’s been years since she’s tried to talk sense into my head. I was positive she had given up on me at this point.

  “Last night,” she shyly replies. “Umm—you know, when you weren’t feeling good?”

  “No, I honestly can’t recall anything.” I mutter, silently loathing the horrible old Jack Daniels.

  “Oh,” she sadly whispers.

  “I thought the guys had called you to come take care of my sorry self.” I chuckle, not truly feeling funny. It’s not a joking matter but I need to cut the tension she’s starting to feel.

  “I didn’t even realize you had moments like this.” She’s states, causing my body to go rigid.

  “Moments like this?” I try to keep the suspicion of what I know is coming out of my voice.

  She doesn’t respond, so I prod her along. “Did my sister say something last night, Charlie?”

  “Not really.” She falters. “Just that umm—,” she starts stumbling over her words, unsure of what she should say, apparently.

  “What exactly did she say, Charlotte?” I never call her by her full name, unless I’m serious and need her to listen and pay attention.

  “Just that once a year you get really drunk, but it wasn’t her place to tell me why. She was afraid you would get mad. Like right now.” I can tell she’s lacking all confidence now in this conversation, not wanting to say something she shouldn’t, or letting anything slip further that my sister’s big mouth might have told her.

  “That was it?” I cock my head to the side, peering down into her face, with as blank of a face as I can manage.

  “Yes,” she’s reluctantly admits. “I promise, Nathan, she didn’t say anything else. Please don’t be mad at me, or her.” She pleads.

  I relax a little, changing my demeanor. For now, “It’s fine, Charlie. Don’t worry. I’m not mad at you.” Smiling at her as best as I can manage.

  “And your sister?”

  “Don’t worry about her. It’ll clear itself up.” Eventually. I silently reply. “Let’s get up and get you fed. You must be starved. I know I am!” I roll us to a sitting position,
kiss her nose, then hop off the bed and make my way to the bathroom. I need to recompose myself more, before she catches onto anything else.

  I can hear the guys ribbing her about spending the night when I get back to the front of the house. She looks thoroughly embarrassed, red faced and all. “Ready for some pancakes?” I ask before cutting a look at the guys, letting them know to knock it off.

  “I think it’s best I just went home,” she says uncomfortably, though she still gives me a small smile.

  “Are you sure?”

  “She doesn’t want your foul-tasting tongue in her mouth.” Tucker crassly taunts.

  “Seriously?” He’s truly aggravating, and I’m not in the mood for his stupid jokes this morning. “And here I thought it was your butt scratching that scared her off.”

  “Alright, everyone calm down. Stop with the taunting and insults.” Holt surprisingly intervenes, while he watches Charlie’s face closely.

  I can tell she’s upset. The balance I was trying to ride has tipped over, and I’m not sure where this will go after whatever happened between us last night. I can only guess at what it was. I know eventually my memories will come flooding back, and it might be too late to go back to what we were.

  “I’ll walk you to your car.” I offer. She gives me a sad smile, but nods her head.

  “Bye.” She quietly tells the others, before heading out the door.

  I look back to see the guys watching us, curiously, noting that Holt looks upset. “What did you do?” he asks.

  “I have no idea. I do know that Carianna called her over here, and told her I get like this once a year then left us to ourselves. Take from that what you will.” I turn on my heels, making a slow exit to all knowing eyes. I bet we all can figure out what happened. The question is— will she ask me about what happened?

  I wonder how long it’s going to take her, or if she’s too scared. Only time will tell, and time is what I’m afraid of the most. I don’t think I can allow this to go any further.

  It will only save us both in the long run, for my sake, and hers.

  Right?

  IT’S BEEN OVER A WEEK since Nathan inadvertently revealed his broken heart to me. He’s been distant, to the point where we go days without talking, or communicating in any way. Right now, I’m looking at Nate, and I can tell something is going on behind those all too knowing eyes. I just haven’t the faintest idea what’s holding him back from me. I feel like this rift in our relationship is causing him to slip through my fingers, and I’m powerless to stop it.

  I try to ask questions, but he brushes them off, like nothing’s the matter—when I know that’s so far from the truth, it’s laughable. Honestly, all was fine until his incident with a bottle of Jack. That’s when he rapidly started to change.

  At the moment, we’re at his house, trying to enjoy a relaxing evening. I feel like he’s trying to pretend we’re okay—to him or to me, I’m not sure. I know it’s not for the guys’ benefit. I can see the irritation in their eyes as I sit here, silently watching him from my place on the couch while he talks with them. He’s completely unaware that I’m watching the way he acts towards me—or doesn’t act.

  I haven’t brought up the night he spilled his guts to me, nor do I want to. He was so upset when he thought his sister had told me what was going on. His demeanor towards me completely changed. So, I’m waiting for him to open up again, on his own terms and while he’s sober. I want him to actually remember our conversation. When he didn’t remember it the next morning, I was crushed. It meant so much that he finally opened up about his family, only for him to be completely oblivious of it. I hate that he doesn’t even know he told me about his mother. I want to talk to him so badly, but I know if I do, it will only push him further away. I’m definitely not enlisting the guys for help, either. They haven’t even brought it up; though, I get the nagging feeling they want to say something. Instead, they stand firmly behind their friend and keep their lips tightly closed on anything Jackson family-related.

  I don’t know how much longer I can sit back and watch him destroy us before it’s too late. But I do know this—only time will tell what will happen between us, and I refuse to give in, or give up on him.

  The man who holds my heart in the palm of his hand. The man I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I love.

  I haven’t spoken too much to Charlie in the last week or so. It’s a jerk move, I know, but I need space to dig deep into what we were truly doing. Or more like, what I was doing. I was breaking all of my self-imposed rules for one tempting, chocolate-brown haired, blue-eyed, beauty. We had an instant connection, and I let my heart run away with this little woman. It’s not what I would normally do, but I couldn’t resist the pull toward her.

  The guys are at their own breaking point when it comes to this situation. They’re trying to stay out of it, but I can see it in their faces. They really want to lay into me good, or get me in a boxing ring and pound it out of my head. That might be a real possibility at the moment, as I’m definitely going out of my mind.

  I know I’m not broken. I’m just reserved in taking the plunge with a relationship. Though—I came really close to it with Charlie. That’s preciously the reason I’ve been keeping a distance from her after the night she came to my drunken aid. Am I ready to settle down? I don’t see why I couldn’t be—as long as it came with a set of certain expectations. Can I go through the motions of growing old, and losing my love? No. Can I stand by and watch when she’s in pain while she’s sick, or having our child? Absolutely not.

  After all we went through in losing the glue that held the family together, and seeing how it tore my father apart, it makes me reluctant to put myself completely out there for her. But then again, I honestly don’t know if I could handle losing the woman I hold so close to my heart. I also could never dream of putting my children through that torture, either.

  I know that I’m probably way too young to think along these lines, but you never know when fate wants to deal you a nasty hand. One minute, it’s beautiful and all is well, but then in a moment, it all becomes darkness, and your life blurs from one day to the next, just going through the motions.

  There is a part, deep down in my soul that wants to say yes, I can handle life lessons like that. But then, there’s a bigger, louder part of me that can’t dwell on the what ifs, so I try not to go down that road. At the moment, though—I just feel so lost and torn up over Charlie. I want to stop being a jerk to her, and my friends. The question is—can I do it, without giving in to the feelings that haunt me?

  Every time I see Charlie, she gets to me, working my insides over until I’m turned into knots. I know I’m on a collision course now, one where putting on the brakes at this point will completely wreck me.

  I know I need to let go of the pain from losing my mother and finally let the grieving process run its course through my heart. The guys are right; Charlie can see me through this, if I choose to let her. But if I can’t even deal with it, going on eight years now, then why would I want to put her through the motions with me? She deserves to be happy with a man who can give her everything she wants when it comes to a future life and family. Heaven knows I want to be that man. I just can’t make myself do it, and I would do anything for Charlie. Anything. This is the one and only challenge blocking me. So why hold her back?

  The images of her at her parents’ house are seared into my mind. The love, laughter, and the closeness this tightknit family has hurts my heart in a bittersweet way. I want what she has. I used to have what she has. I took that for granted, and now it no longer exists. My father works like a well-oiled machine, leaving no time for my sister and I. We rarely talk anymore. We certainly never have a family night for food, togetherness, and laughter over silly games. He managed to lose himself in his work, once he lost the star that brightened his world. I know he will never recover from my mother’s loss, and I certainly can’t blame him for that.

  As for Carianna, she didn’t make g
ood life choices for a while. I had to bail her out of many troubling issues, and show up for court-appointed hearings as my father’s replacement. She lost her way, without a female role model to show her the ropes. I was her mother and father figure, and at the same time, trying to be her big brother, watching her back. Thankfully, she’s better now, and she has Brett, her boyfriend, to fall back on.

  We each seem to have our own mechanisms for coping with the loss of our loved one. Carianna got into trouble, my dad gave up and became more or less robotic, and then there’s me—afraid of having a deeper relationship with anyone, but especially with the one who can crush me the most. Charlie.

  I’m stretched out on the couch, playing these thoughts over in my head, remembering how much Charlie scared me the night she had car trouble, when my phone dings with a text. I snatch it up off my chest to find a message from Charlie, checking in for the day. I send her a reply, keeping it short, but semi-sweet.

  My mind takes me back to the night Charlie saw me at my worst. Worst for now, at least, though nothing compares to the night I lost my mom. It took some time, but the longer I sit here, the memories slowly trickle in of the events that played out that evening in my room. It’s the reason I’ve suddenly distance myself from Charlie. Thinking about everything that my loose tongue told her just drives me mad. I’m mad that I unloaded my burdens on her. I’m equally just as mad that she hasn’t tried to talk to me about them, either. She now has knowledge of what happened, and not once has she even made an attempt to bring it up. It’s not like I really want to dive into this topic, again. But, what gives? Why isn’t she trying to save me for my own good, like everyone else? It’s not what I want from her, but how do you not say anything? Especially when it’s something as big as this?