by Street, K.
“I’ll always be here. I’m in you. In every beat of your heart.”
“When you look at our little boy, I’m there. In his smile and his laugh. In every beat of his heart.”
“You’re always with me. You and Knox both.”
A drop of water plopped onto my skin. Then, another. I touched my hands to my face, shocked to find the tears that ran in rivulets.
The wetness surprised me in the way a person prone to nosebleeds was still shocked by the sight of their blood.
“Mommy?”
The sound of Knox’s voice acted as a life preserver.
I reached for my napkin, wiped my face, and turned my attention to the little boy.
Unlike the house, the table, or the man; Knox was mine.
I drew in a breath and produced a small cheesy-pickle smile just for him. “Yes, little man?”
He stabbed his roast beef with his fork. “You are sad?”
Unsure of how to respond, I shifted my eyes to Jase. The look in his eyes shredded my soul.
He blinked. And, when his gaze landed on mine once more, it was as though a veil had dropped. A shield to hide the pain. Jase wasn’t protecting himself; he was sheltering me. But it was too late. I had seen the depth of his pain, and I hated that I had been the cause of it.
I angled my head to my son. “Mommy isn’t sad,” I lied.
“Grief is constant but fluid.”
“Grief crashes in waves, recedes like the tide. There are ebbs and flows.”
I was in the midst of a groundswell.
Thirty-Five
Jase
Saylor’s face transformed the moment we sat to eat. I watched the wave of grief crash over her, and I was helpless to stop it. She didn’t have to tell me what had set it off because I already knew. We had taken our places around the table like a family, only we weren’t. It was like one of those pictures. The kind with the caption that asked which of these things did not belong. It was me. I was the thing that did not belong.
I understood grief. I knew what it was like to be sucked beneath the surface and caught in the undertow. Her pain was palpable, and witnessing it the way I did tonight—how it’d snuck up on her—destroyed me. I hurt so fucking bad; I would have traded places with Colin in a minute to never have to see that look of agony on her face ever again.
Saylor barely touched her food. I knew she needed a minute, so I told her to grab a shower while I cleaned up and helped Knox with his school project.
It took twenty minutes and a little bit of patience before Knox had a working leprechaun trap and mostly clean hands.
Saylor appeared in the doorway, her face red and splotchy. “Are you guys finished already?”
“Yep. You’ll probably be sweeping up glitter from now until the end of time.”
“Thanks for helping him. I’m going to put him to bed. Wait for me?”
“Of course.”
“Knox, tell Jase good night and thank you.”
He raised his arms for a hug. So, I picked him up.
“Thank you.” He wrapped his arms around my neck and squeezed. “Night, Jase. Love you.”
A lump the size of Texas lodged in my throat, choking me with emotion. “I love you, too, bud.” My words came out gravelly. I set him on his feet and focused on cleaning up the mess because I couldn’t bring myself to watch them walk away.
By the time Saylor returned to the kitchen, order had been restored, and the dishwasher was loaded.
“Can we talk?” she asked, not meeting my eyes.
“Sure.”
She took me by the hand and led me into the living room, letting go when we reached the couch.
We took a seat, neither of us saying a word.
The seconds stretched into minutes before Saylor finally spoke, “I’m sorry.”
I took her hand in mine. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“It’s so stupid. The three of us have had meals together before. But, tonight … sitting at that table …”
I settled back into the corner of the couch and gently tugged her hand. “Come here.”
She crawled into my lap and laid her head on my chest. I didn’t have to look at her to know she was crying.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Shh. Please don’t cry. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” She pressed her tear-soaked face into the crook of my neck. “I saw the look in your eyes.” She kissed her way to my mouth and swept her lips over mine. “Please forgive me,” she whispered.
I love you.
I didn’t say the words aloud.
I cupped her wet cheeks between my palms and used the pads of my thumbs to wipe away her tears. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
She nodded, but her body language showed me she wasn’t convinced.
I brought my lips to hers and softly kissed her. Tender and slow. I wouldn’t push for more than she could give.
She pulled back and shifted her body on my lap, so she straddled my legs. Her fingers twined in my hair as she pressed her lips to my temples before she leaned back to look at me.
Our gazes locked as we held a wordless conversation.
She dipped her head and pressed her lips to my chest just over my heart. “I’m so sorry.” Then, she wrapped her arms around my neck and laid her head on top of my shoulder.
We were quiet for a long time.
I trailed my fingertips over the length of her spine. Back and forth in long, languid strokes.
She lifted her head and pressed her forehead to mine, holding my face in her palms. “It hit me out of nowhere, sitting at the table. But then I looked at you, and it felt like my bones were splintering. The raw pain in your eyes weighed more than my grief. Knowing that I’d put that look on your face gutted me.” Saylor shifted to look at me. “When I was in the shower, I didn’t cry for him. My tears were for you.”
I held her face in my hands and leaned in. This time, when I kissed her, it wasn’t merely a brushing of lips. Or a caress of our tongues. I made love to her mouth the way I longed to make love to her body.
When we finally broke apart, Saylor sighed with her whole being and rested her head on my shoulder.
It was late, and she was exhausted.
I shifted forward on the couch and held on to her as I stood.
She was so light in my arms. It reminded me how she’d barely touched her dinner. Maybe I should have lunch delivered to her office tomorrow. She snuggled against me, and I wanted nothing more than to hold her in my arms for the rest of my life.
I carried her down the hall to her room, set her on the bed, and pulled her blankets back. “In you go.”
Saylor snuggled beneath the covers, and I tucked them in around her.
“Will you text me when you get home, so I know you’re safe?”
“Only if you promise not to respond. You need to sleep.”
“All right, but only because I’m tired.”
I dropped a kiss to her lips.
On my way out, I stopped in Knox’s room to check on him. For a few minutes, I stood in the doorway and listened to him softly snore. As I watched him sleep, a longing settled into my bones. I didn’t want to leave. I hated the fact that I wouldn’t be here in the morning when he woke up.
I hadn’t just fallen in love with Saylor. Somewhere along the way, her little boy had stolen my heart. He might not belong to me, but I would do anything for him.
I stepped into the room, crept quietly across the floor, and then bent to kiss the top of his head. His stuffed dragon had fallen, so I picked it up and slipped it back into Knox’s arms. After I adjusted his blanket, I moved toward the door, leaving it open a crack even though his night-light was on.
As I made my way back through the house, I shut off the lights before locking the door behind me and headed to my truck. Each step I took away from the two people inside was more painful than the last.
Thirty-Six
Saylor
Jase and I
had both worked a lot over the past week and a half. While we saw each other, we were typically in the company of other people. However, there had been a few late-night phone calls during which we watched movies together, adding in our commentary the way we used to.
At my last session with Dr. Gold, I told her what had happened the night Jase came over for dinner. She considered it some sort of breakthrough since I’d recognized Jase’s pain and had clearly been devastated by it. According to her, it indicated my feelings for Jase ran deep. Little by little, I had been working through my emotions. Lately, I’d had moments of sadness but also days with laughter and joy. Today would be chaotic, but hopefully, there would be plenty of laughs.
“Good morning,” I greeted my brother as he walked into the kitchen. I sat at the island, drinking my coffee and eating one of the croissants I had picked up yesterday at the new bakery adjacent to The Brewed Book.
“You’re chipper this morning.”
I pushed the light-blue box of baked goods toward Easton. “You have to try these.”
He reached for a strawberry–cream cheese Danish and took a bite. “Holy shit.”
Though I had not heard Knox get up, I glared at him anyway.
“Oops.” He had the decency to look slightly apologetic. “This is amazing,” He took another bite, swallowed, and popped the rest in his mouth.
I gawked at him. He hadn’t even savored it.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I rolled my eyes.
He shrugged and closed the lid on the box, looking at the logo. “Sifted Bliss Bakery. Where is it?”
“Kitty-corner to The Brewed Book.” I pulled a layer of dough from the pastry like a sane person, one with the ability to properly appreciate a croissant, and placed it into my mouth.
He moved to the counter, his back to me as he reached into the cabinet above the coffeepot.
“You know”—my voice lilted—“I met the owner. Her name is Layken, and she’s really pretty.”
“Saylor.”
“What?”
“You know what.”
“But—”
“No buts,” he cut me off and spun to face me, clutching the coffee he had just poured between his palms. “You’re different. Happy. Would that have anything to do with Jase?”
I stared at him, wide-eyed, and reminded myself to breathe. “If I answer your question, you should be prepared to answer a few yourself.”
“All right,” he conceded.
“Yes, Jase is a part of it.” I dropped my gaze and studied my fingernails, suddenly finding them very interesting. “How did you know?”
“Just because I’ve been balls-to-the-wall working doesn’t mean I’m blind.”
“Are you mad?”
His expression turned thoughtful. “I’m not mad. I’m worried.”
“About?”
“Both of you actually.” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the granite.
“If you have a question, just ask.”
In a fatherly tone, he asked, “What are your intentions?”
I started laughing. That was one of the reasons I loved my brother. His well-timed comedic antics only added to his charm.
“In all seriousness, do you have feelings for him?”
“Yes.”
“Is there a but in there?”
“No. It’s …” I searched for the word.
“Complicated?”
“Exactly. But it’s more than that. I have feelings for him—strong feelings—but I can’t put a label on it because a label would make it real. And it terrifies me.”
“I get it, Say. You and Jase have both been through hell. I just don’t want to see either of you get hurt. There are a lot of factors at play.”
“I know.” I breathed out a sigh of relief, glad to have the conversation over.
East reached for the bakery box, and I pulled it away.
“Oh no, big brother. A deal is a deal.” I held the baked goods hostage. “Did I mention she’s really pretty?”
“The bakery chic?”
God, he’s exhausting.
I rolled my eyes. “Keep up, man.”
I wanted him to get back out there. To find the one. Men like my brother did not grow on trees. East was driven. He’d spent a lot of years focused on his career and building his business. He owned his home—not to mention, income properties. He was a catch. When we were younger, all my friends had had a crush on him. But he was my brother, so gross. I still wanted him to be happy.
“Let’s say I go out with her. It doesn’t work out, and she gets her heart broken. She’ll be so distraught that she closes shop, flees Maplewood Falls, and takes the holy grail of baked goods with her. A horrible sadness will befall the entire town.” He leaned forward and snatched the blue box, looking extremely serious. “Do you want that on your conscience? To bring that kind of shame on your family?”
I busted out laughing. “Oh my God, you’re so dramatic.” I plucked a grape from the bowl of fruit and smacked him in the head with it.
“I went on a date last weekend. She's the artistic type, so I took her to the theater.” He lifted one hand into the air, quickly rotating his wrist with a flourish and bowed.
“Wait. You’re dating?”
He quirked a brow.
Nope. Not dating.
“Ah. So, you’re being a man-whore.”
“Mommy, what is a man-whore?” Knox entered the kitchen with the thumb end of his fist rubbing sleep from his eyes.
Easton’s ceramic mug clanked against the hard surface as he doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach.
“Um.”
How the hell am I going to explain this? Yeah … not happening. Little man does not need to know.
“Are you hungry, baby?”
Parenting 101: change the subject.
“I am not a baby.”
“Okay, grumpy butt.”
My brother was still laughing his ass off.
“I am not a grumpy butt either.” He bent and snatched up the grape from the floor, popping it into his mouth before I had a chance to stop him.
“Ew, Knox. Don’t eat off the floor. That’s gross.”
He shrugged. “Uh-huh. Five-second rule, Mommy.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“At school. Duke ate his gummies, off a floor. He shared ’em with me and Finley.”
Tears streaked Easton’s face.
I dropped my head into my hands. “Ugh. Boys are so disgusting.”
Knox held his stomach and began to cackle, mimicking his uncle.
I was tickled, watching them. East and Knox were literally rolling on the floor. I struggled for oxygen.
Shit.
I laughed harder and was hit with the sudden urge to pee. I shoved out of the chair nearly toppling over.
My socked feet slid over the hardwood as I ran to the bathroom. I pushed the door closed and danced the universal pee-pee jig. I made it just in time, and the tinkling sound was music to my ears. Angels sang while my bladder shouted, Hallelujah.
I sent up a silent prayer that Knox would forget he ever heard the word man-whore. However, I knew my son and chances were his teacher would be calling me next week.
After I went to the bathroom, I washed my hands and moved through my morning routine. Tonight, Knox and I would be sleeping in our new house. We were supposed to meet our parents and Jase there this morning. Between East and Jase and a few of the guys who worked on the crew, all the furniture was in place. Later today, Mom and I were going to go shopping for the essentials. However, for any of that to happen, we needed to get our asses moving.
I dressed quickly, threw on a pair of sneakers, and then went in search of my son, so he could change out of his pajamas.
Within twenty minutes, we pulled up to my new house. Our parents and Jase were already there, waiting for us.
After we got out, I paused for a moment, wanting to take it all in. The formerly red brick exterior had bee
n painted white. Charcoal-gray shutters framed the windows, the two skinny pillars had been replaced with ones much more fitting, and my new red front door with sidelight glass panels gave the house a pop of color. The entire porch had been completely redone. A swing had been hung at one end, and two white slat-backed rockers sat at the other. The detached garage had been painted to match the house.
I pressed my fingers against my lips and wrapped my free arm around my middle.
Jase walked over and scooped me into an embrace. I twined my arms around his neck as he proceeded to spin me in a circle.
“Welcome home, baby.” The words were intended for my ears only.
“Thank you.”
He set me back to rights. To anyone else, the scene had played out like one friend congratulating another. Only my brother knew that it was more than that. If my parents were suspicious, they kept it to themselves.
Jase lifted Knox off his feet. My son extended his arms into the air, his back to Jase’s chest. Knox squealed in delight as Jase held him in the air away from his body, much like the way Rafiki held Simba in The Lion King. As Jase spun Knox around, the lyrics from “Circle of Life” ran on a loop in my head.
It was quite fitting.
Jase released Knox, and my son ran around the yard amid all the adults.
Our parents walked over, and my dad hauled me against his chest, hugging me tight.
He pulled back, looked me in the eye, and then asked, “You okay, Tater Tot?”
I held his gaze when I gave him my answer, “I’m okay, Daddy.”
He placed a kiss on my forehead. “You’re getting there, baby girl. You’re getting there.”
“All right, stop monopolizing our daughter.”
“Patience has never been your mama’s strong suit,” Dad remarked.
She gigged him in the side.
Daddy gave her a stern look. “Woman.”
“I’ve been married to you for over thirty-four years. I’d say that’s some kind of patience.” She cocked her hip.
“Is that right?”
“It sure is.”
My daddy gripped my mama around her waist, dipped her low, and kissed her within an inch of her life. Catcalls and wolf whistles filled the air.
