Claiming What's Mine

by Holt, Leah

  And still I just stood there, smoking my cigarette, unmoved and in no rush to start dealing with anything that had to do with my father.

  “Are you all set, Sir? Can I give you directions?” A worker from the station touched my shoulder, the older woman's face caring and sincere as her brows arched softly.

  Shaking my head, I lifted my foot and put out the cigarette on the bottom of my sneaker. “Nah, I know where I'm going, thank you though.” Tucking the blackened tip into the pack, I shoved it into my back pocket and picked up my bag.

  The woman nodded, lifting her eyes and looking around the platform. Giving me a smile, she shuffled off, ready to assist the next lost soul.

  Starting in the direction of my childhood home, my stomach quickly turned into knots, the twisted rope weighing down my gut like rocks. I tried to convince myself that enough time had gone by and things there would be different.

  She's not here anymore, she probably moved away.

  I never thought there was ever a reason for anyone to stay in this place. It was a mirror image of the town next door, of the town two states over, and on the other side of the country.

  Stores closed, new ones opened, trees were mowed down to make room for shopping centers and housing developments. That was how it worked in the rest of the world, Kine Valley wouldn't be any different.

  I'll be damned.

  Turning up Main Street, I was shocked to see it looked the same, as if that place had somehow been hidden or trapped in a time capsule, keeping it safe from the sickness that was consuming the rest of the earth.

  Mrs. Vicki's bakery was still there, the front window colorful and lively. The hardware store, the cafe, the general store, it felt like I never left. Everything was exactly the same, just the covering had changed some.

  The posters in the windows were newer, the signs had been updated and cleaned, but it was all the same. I was blown away, shocked at how the outside world hadn't seeped into that place yet.

  Grabbing a coffee, I took my time heading to the old house. My sister knew I was coming, but I never gave her any real details. The wake was supposed to be tomorrow, and my plan was to leave the day after we buried our father. He didn't deserve any of my time, my sorrow, or my life anymore. But Beth wanted me there, so here I was.

  Standing outside, I leaned against the building and blew on my drink. The steam swirled up across my lips, letting me know it was still burning hot.

  The hairs prickled on the back of my neck, making me more than aware of my surroundings. It felt like someone was watching me, but as I glanced around, I didn't see anyone.

  “Jayden? Jayden Henry is that you?”

  Twisting over my shoulder, I was met by Mrs. Vicki, her smile much larger than the last time I saw her. She wasn't too happy that I had been the one taking her pies, but she was a forgiving woman, and when she saw what Blue and I had made, she easily forgave me.

  “Mrs. Vicki, how are you?”

  “I'll be damned, look at you, you're a grown man now.”

  Chuckling, I smiled playfully. “That does happen. And you look like you haven't aged a day since the last time I saw you.”

  “You just made my day, this smile will be stuck here the rest of the afternoon.” Slapping my chest lightly, the frail woman thinned her lips. “I heard about your father, I'm so sorry for your loss.”

  Forcing a smile, I tried to show some sadness for the death of my father, but I felt nothing. His death brought up no emotions, no feelings, I just felt a sense of relief.

  “Yeah, it's sad.” I lied, but I didn't have a choice. What would people think if I shrugged it off?

  “Things will get better, time heals all wounds.”

  That's a lie if I ever heard one. Some wounds never heal.

  “I'm just hopeful he's at peace.”

  Squeezing my shoulder, Vicki kept her eyes on the ground as she held her cross necklace in her free hand. “May he live a fuller life with those we've loved and lost. Amen.” Kissing her necklace, she wrapped her arm around my neck and pulled me in for a hug.

  I couldn't figure out why everyone acted like he was a saint. Mrs. Vicki said a prayer for him, Mr. Jameson, the old barber, stopped me to tell me what a wonderful man my father was. People spoke about him as if he had founded this small community and fed everyone in it. It was like everything else was forgotten, all of it just erased by his death.

  It blew my mind how people changed their views of someone so quickly once they died. Everyone knew who my father was, everyone knew the type of man he was, and the life he lived.

  It wasn't a secret that he got arrested for beating me or lost my little sister to CPS because of it. It wasn't a secret that he was a drunk, that he was full of rage and anger, almost always ready to tear off someone's head.

  And as I walked the streets, passing places that brought back memories of a time I wanted to forget, of moments that were better left locked up and pushed into the back of my mind, none of those moments involved my father.

  Blue. . .

  Glancing over at the old farm house, it looked like it was vacant again, same as before she moved in all those years ago. The grass was more than overgrown, standing at least two feet high, there were missing shingles from the roof and rotting boards on the siding.

  The bright blue shutters were dull and faded, with tufts of hay and dead grass sticking out from behind the seams. Slowing my pace, I noticed how the front window was broken and the screen door was hanging off the hinges, swinging back and forth in the breeze.

  It looked different, too different, and yet, similar enough for a rush of memories and emotions to flood my body. The window I used to throw rocks at, the field we caught fireflies in, the area where the barn was. . .

  No, I'm done with that, and I have been for years.

  Forcing my eyes back on the road, I tried to ignore the decrepit old house of my first love. But all I could see was her face that day, the day she shoved me away and told me we were done.

  The look in her eyes had stayed with me. Glass tears rolled down her cheeks, her eyes full of water, her pupils large as saucers, lashes splashing over the bubbled surface, releasing more droplets. It was her eyes that told me she wasn't ready for us to be over, but it was her words that sent me away.

  What was I supposed to do? Should I have listened to her voice or her eyes?

  It doesn't matter. That was so long ago, it's over.

  Hanging my head, I pressed my feet into the pavement as I adjusted the bag on my shoulder and kept moving. Coming around the dirt bend, the farm house sprouted from the few trees that lined the front of the property.

  It looked just as abandoned as Blue's old house. I knew my father moved back in after he got released from jail, but I was long gone at that point. The house itself had gone to shit. Windows were boarded up, the roof had visible holes, the back dining area looked like it was sinking into the ground.

  Bethany ran out the door, her arms open wide. “Jay!” yelling, she jumped into my arms and gave me a huge hug. “I wasn't sure if you were actually coming or not.”

  Stumbling back as she hit me full force, I coughed out a gush of air. “I told you I would,” I said, catching my balance and giving her a big hug in return.

  “Yeah, but I still wasn't sure.”

  “Have I ever lied to you?”

  “No,” Beth said, taking a step back and pulling her hair back into a low ponytail. “But this is different.”

  “It's not different, I told you I would be here, so here I am.” Gripping the strap on my bag with both hands, I looked behind her at the house. “This place looks like shit. Does it feel weird to be inside?”

  “Nah, I've been back a few times over the years. Judy and Tom were really sweet about letting me see Dad if I wanted to. They would take me for holidays and my birthday. Once in awhile if I asked, they would set up lunch or something with him.”

  “And he actually followed through?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow in disbelief.


  “You know dad, there were times he flaked out, but not all of them.” Curling her arms around her waist, she twisted back to look at the house. “He used to ask me about you, you know that?”

  “Don't, Beth.”

  “Don't what?”

  “Don't be that person who builds him up to be something he wasn't. He wasn't a hero, he wasn't a selfless person, he wasn't even a father for Christ sake's.”

  “Jayden, come on, there has to be at least one good memory you can think of.”

  “Nope, can't think of any.”

  “Stop it—” shoving my shoulder, she laughed awkwardly. “There has to be at least one. I know who he was, but even the worst of people have some good in them.”

  Rolling my eyes, I started walking towards the door. “I told you I'd come back for this, but don't try and make me act as if we lost someone I cared about. I'm here for you and that's it, I could give two shits about that man.”

  Pulling open the door, I let it crash closed behind me.

  I was doing my brotherly duty for my little sister. I was following through with my word, because God damn it, someone in her life had to. But I wasn't going to stand there and try to create good memories about our father from a pile of garbage.

  If she wanted me to pretend, I wouldn't.

  If she expected me to create a fictional happy thought just to make her happy, I wouldn't.

  No amount of time could make me forget how he treated us, even in death, my father was a bastard.

  Chapter Twelve

  Blue

  There he was, just standing there in front of the coffee shop. I couldn't believe my eyes, I had to rub them a few times just to make sure it wasn't some trick my mind was playing on me.

  Is it really him? It can't be. . . can it?

  Oh my God, it's actually him.

  Jayden—the Jayden Henry, my Jayden Henry, was sipping a coffee, his hair a little bit shorter than the last time I saw him, his face a little more weathered, with strong lines and sharp angles, but it was him, there was no doubt about that.

  I stood in shock, my jaw wide open, staring out the big picture window of the grocery store.

  I can't believe he's here.

  Holding the handle of the carriage, I couldn't move, afraid to walk through the double doors and have him see me. I wasn't ready for that, I would never be ready for that.

  Why is he here?

  I had seen in the paper and heard around town that his father had died, I just never thought he'd come back because of that. Jayden hated his father, that was something I always knew.

  And yet, he was right there, leaning against the building, talking to Mrs. Vicki as if he had never left. He fit in too perfectly to be a true outsider. You can move away from Kine Valley, but it's always with you.

  Lurching forward, an older woman had slammed into my thigh with her cart. “Oh, I'm so sorry, I thought I could squeeze through.”

  “No, I'm sorry,” I said instantly, realizing I had actually stopped dead center in the aisle. “I'm taking up the middle.” Sliding my cart over and out of the way, she gave me a smile and headed out the doors.

  Jayden's eyes moved across the store front, causing me to drop down behind my cart and hide. A few other shoppers looked over at me, so I pretended like I was adjusting my shoe and nothing was wrong.

  How long is he going to stand there?

  There was no way in hell I was leaving the store until he was gone. The second I walked outside he'd see me, there was no avoiding it. So, I just postponed my exit, fiddling with my purse, checking my receipt, and glancing over my phone.

  It seemed like he would never leave, time ticked by so slowly as he drank his coffee and talked with a few other people.

  The more I spied on him through the tinted glass, the more I could see just how grown up he had become. I thought he was a man back then, but time had been very good him, there was no denying he was definitely a man now.

  His chest was thicker, more muscular, defined in ways I couldn't have imagined. I could see his abs beneath his snug, gray t-shirt, each one rippling like water after you throw a rock. Firm biceps rolled up into hard stones as he lifted his arms up to his chest, making my stomach twist and twirl out of control.

  My heart pitter pattered in my chest, my lungs struggled to take in air as his smile sent a bolt of lightening through my body, zipping down my spine and hitting my toes. That bubbly feeling I felt, it was the same feeling I remembered from when I was a young girl.

  Memories of his hands on my skin, of his breath against the back of my neck, of his voice in my ear, it turned my insides upside down, making me all warm and fuzzy, and causing the space between my thighs to get hot and wet.

  What the hell is going on with me!

  I tried so hard to tear my eyes from him, but I couldn't. Even with all the time that had come between us, he still ignited my body like I was sixteen again.

  Watching him stroll off up the street, I waited until he was far enough away that my face would be just a blur if he turned to look back over his shoulder. Even as he walked away, my heart was in my throat and all my nerves were firing off like explosions under the skin.

  That man had a power over me, I felt it before, and I could feel it right then.

  Jayden disappeared into the distance as I finished putting my groceries in the car. Climbing into the front seat, dread consumed me, the same dread I felt as I sent him away all those years ago.

  I had just watched him walk away again, his head down, his shoulders scrunched up, his eyes on his feet. And even though he hadn't seen me, I still felt that same sick to my stomach feeling.

  Jayden Henry had been a name I hadn't said in years, but he was a face that often crossed my mind on a daily basis.

  I forced him away, but only because I had to. I never really wanted him to leave.

  At least, that's what my heart kept screaming at me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jayden

  Tugging on the collar of my suit, I slipped a finger in at the neckline and pulled it away. “Ugh,” I groaned quietly.

  “Just leave it alone,” my sister whispered harshly.

  Pausing, I couldn't believe how much she sounded like our mother right then. She was barely a year old when our mother passed away, to hear that tone in her voice made the hair on my arms prickle.

  Smirking to myself, it felt like she was the older sibling right then and I was the younger brother. “It's tight, I can't breathe.”

  “That's the way it's supposed to be.” My sister talked to me through the corner of her lips as she smiled at an older woman who approached to apologize for our loss. “It's a suit, Jay, you act like you've never worn one.”

  “I haven't, not since Mom's funeral, and I don't even really remember what it felt like.”

  Beth flicked her eyes up to mine and frowned. “I'm sorry, I'm not trying—”

  “It's fine, Beth, just focus on this, we don't need to think about that too.”

  Turning to the next person who came by to pay their respects, my sister put on a strong smile. “Thank you for coming,” she said gracefully, giving them a big hug.

  Beth was a strong, bright, young woman. Eighteen, heading to college, ready to start her own life. My sister had come a long way over the years, and I was proud of her for what she had overcome.

  I'd like to think that some of her strength came from me. I didn't have shit to give her, but maybe she learned a thing or two.

  My eyes were all over the place. On the ceiling, on the floor, on the flowers, anything that wasn't our dead father. I didn't want to look at him in the casket. Shit, I didn't even want to be there, and I wouldn't be if Beth hadn't asked.

  There was something about the way a funeral home smelled that just stuck with me all these years. It was this over powering mix of flowers and chemicals. The scent would instantly fill my nose if I thought about anything that had to do with death.

  I remembered how weird it was to see my
mother that way, her face all done up in makeup that wasn't her own, her hands cold and wax-like to the touch. It made me so uncomfortable to be there.

  Shaking off the thought, I turned to look at the door. A woman had entered the room, moving to the front of the casket and saying a silent prayer. At first I didn't recognize her, it was as if there was a delay between my eyes and my brain. Squinting, I watched her cautiously, highly aware that I knew her, but unable to grasp how.

  Dressed in a knee length black skirt and a deep purple blouse, her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, with a small white flower pinned behind her ear. Her brows were tinted with eye shadow, her cheeks splashed in pink.

  Turning her face to look towards the row of seats against the wall, everything around me began to sway and spin.

  Is that. . .

  Blue?

  Instantly, my hands became sweaty and my heart started beating faster. Taking short, shallow breaths through my nose, I grabbed my chest as the muscles tightened.

  Why is she here?

  What the hell is she doing here?

  I had assumed Blue had moved away, leaving this small town behind. She had always talked about wanting more, about wanting to make a difference. You can't do that here.

  Leaning over, I whispered to my sister. “Did you know she still lived here?”

  “Yeah,” she said quietly.

  “You did?”

  “I did—so what?”

  “Why didn't you tell me?”

  Beth rolled her eyes up to mine, her brows dipping into the bridge of her nose. “This isn't the time or the place, but yes, I knew, and no I didn't tell you. I didn't think it mattered. As far as I knew, you didn't care about anyone here. Why would I think she was any different?”

  I didn't get to respond, Beth jerked her head back to face the next person in line, igniting her thankful smile as she hugged them.

  Watching Blue from the corner of my eyes, she crossed the room, making a few stops to talk to people. She was smiling, gently touching an older woman's shoulder as she said a few words. I couldn't hear what they were talking about, but Blue's eyes kept coming back to mine.