Inked Persuasion: A Montgomery Ink: Fort Collins Novel

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  Chapter 4

  Jacob

  * * *

  From the outside, there hadn’t been too many changes to the home I grew up in. The tall oak tree still stood in front of the house—though it seemed a bit taller to me. Flower beds lined the front, though those changed with the seasons as my mother loved to plant things that could outlast the Colorado winters. Mom and Dad had painted the door a bright, cheery red, a color that stood out amidst the rest of the exterior’s dark gray and white tones. Some of the other neighbors had gone with similar concepts in colors they liked, and it always brought a slight smile to my face. The idea that my parents had been able to not move on per se, but find strength, made me feel as if we’d done something right. They were living in the now, rather than wallowing in what we had all lost so many years ago.

  I’d been to this home numerous times since I moved away for college. I spent holidays here, although I never stayed overnight. It had always been easier for me to drive the hour or so back down south to my home.

  Now, I was closer because my parents needed me, and it was about time they let someone help and take care of them.

  I pulled in next to an unfamiliar car and frowned. I didn’t think anyone would be here tonight for our family dinner, but maybe I was wrong. Or perhaps it was only a neighbor visiting before they left for the evening. Either way, if it made my mother smile to have company, that was all that mattered. She needed smiles more than ever these days—Dad, too.

  I got out of the car and grabbed the bouquet of wildflowers I’d brought. My mother loved fresh bouquets, even if some didn’t last more than a few days in water. She loved the blooms, and I would do anything to keep her blooming right along with them.

  I went to the front door and let myself in. My mother wasn’t up to running towards the door these days, and I didn’t want to bother Dad when he could be busy.

  “Honey, I’m home,” I said, keeping my voice light. They didn’t need to know that I’d had a tough case today, and my temples pulsed with stress. They didn’t need to know that I had moved in next door to the girl they loved—one I couldn’t stand. Or maybe she was just the person I told myself I couldn’t stand so I didn’t have to deal with the fact that I’d lost my baby brother.

  I quickly pushed those thoughts away because they didn’t matter. I was only letting my shrink’s words slide into my brain, and they were muddying everything up.

  I knew what Annabelle had done, and there was no changing that.

  “We’re back here, son,” Dad called from the sunroom. I slipped off my shoes before making my way inside, looking around at the changes from when I had lived here. There were more open spaces now, places where my mother’s wheelchair needed to move, and though the house was one story, most everything was up in the front where my parents’ master bedroom was located. They had the sunroom in the back, but they rarely used it, at least from what I remembered.

  Maybe Mom was having a better day and they wanted to use the space. I sure as hell hoped so.

  As I moved into the back, I frowned, recognizing the woman kneeling by my mother. Annabelle Montgomery was next to my mother’s chair, smiling softly as she patted my mom’s hands, and the two of them shared a conspiratorial laugh.

  My hands clenched, the flowers’ stems crushing in my grip. I forced myself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly, releasing my hold.

  “Oh, Jacob, you’re here,” Mom said, beaming up at me.

  She looked gorgeous, even though she had lost half her weight over the past few years. She’d had diminished function in her legs first, and now, she was losing mobility in her hands. She was having a more challenging time keeping her head up these days, too, and leaned against the chair’s headrest more often than not.

  She was my mother and looked exactly like the woman who had raised Jonah and me, yet she also looked like a stranger. It wasn’t fair. Mom had been through enough. My father had been through enough. I hated that he had to watch her slowly lose her freedom, just like we’d had to do with Jonah.

  “I didn’t know we’d be having company,” I said through gritted teeth, though I tried to keep a smile on my face.

  My mother’s eyes widened and then narrowed as Annabelle stood up and smoothed down her dress.

  “Hello, Jacob. Your mother and I were just commenting on the fact that you moved into my neighborhood.”

  “We told you, son, it’s a good development,” my father said, handing me a beer as he passed.

  I looked down and scowled. “So you knew the Montgomerys built it?” I asked, trying to keep the derision out of my tone.

  Annabelle raised her chin, and my mother gave me a speaking look.

  “We wanted you to have the best. The Montgomerys do the best. I didn’t know you’d be moving next door to Annabelle, though, since it’s not like I know every street number up there. However, I’m glad you’ll be close. In case she needs to take care of a spider or something,” Mom said, winking over at Annabelle.

  The woman I wasn’t sure what to make of rolled her eyes. “I can take care of spiders on my own.”

  “Really?” I asked dryly.

  Annabelle squared her shoulders. “Of course, I set them free. They help eat the other bugs that I hate. But we’re in Colorado. There are trees everywhere. There are going to be bugs. And don’t worry, I have many brothers and cousins who can help me if needed. You don’t need to worry your pretty little head.”

  I ignored the tone, even as my mother grinned at it.

  Well, it seemed I knew whose side she was on. Not that she was supposed to know there were sides at all.

  “I’m just glad you’re back in town,” Mom said softly.

  Putting all thoughts of her from my mind, I moved forward, dropping to one knee in front of the woman I loved more than anything.

  “I’m glad I’m back, too,” I whispered and handed her the flowers, making sure to rest them on her lap so she didn’t have to grip them.

  She smiled at me, her eyes a little watery, and I reached out and rubbed my thumb across her cheek, brushing away a tear.

  “They’re lovely, Jacob.”

  “As are you,” I teased.

  “You’re such a charmer. I have no idea why you aren’t married yet.”

  “I have a few ideas,” Annabelle mumbled under her breath, and my mother’s eyes twinkled with laughter.

  My dad coughed into his beer and then shook his head. “You know, I like her. And, Jacob? You do have a sly tongue. You’re nice and sweet to your mom, but I’m pretty sure you get all lawyered out when it comes to dating.”

  I scowled, standing up. “What does that even mean? And how did I become the center of this? Besides, we’re not talking about dating. I moved here to be with you guys. Dating isn’t in the picture.”

  My mom looked as if she were about to shake her head but instead leaned against the headrest of her chair. I hated that she was in pain and there was nothing I could do about it. If I talked about it or focused on it, she would only become embarrassed and agitated. Still, I risked a glance at my father, who shook his head gently. Dad was watching her, and my mom would say something if she needed help. I just had to get used to seeing my mother this way. As if that would ever happen.

  “It would be nice if you settled down,” Mom said.

  I smiled, ice coating my veins because the unsaid words scared me to death.

  It would be nice if I could settle down…before she was gone.

  Jesus Christ. How was my dad doing this? How was I supposed to help?

  Instead of wallowing, I winked and gave them the smirk I had practiced when I was a teen. “I’ll settle down once I find who I want. Before that, though, I have to taste the wares.”

  Annabelle scoffed, while my mother rolled her eyes, and my dad laughed. “I raised you better than that,” Mom said.

  “Maybe, but I like watching Annabelle’s color deepen into a plum red as I keep speaking.”

  “Oh, I’m not angry,”
Annabelle corrected. “I just feel pity for you. I mean, all those women out there rejecting you left and right? It’s got to be hard.”

  “Nice,” I said through my teeth.

  “You did ask for it, son,” Dad said. “Okay, dinner is ready. Let’s head into the dining room and see what we have to eat.”

  “Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?” Annabelle asked, wringing her hands in front of herself for a bare instant before she noticed me watching. Immediately, she very deliberately placed her hands on either side of her and looked as if she weren’t worried at all.

  She should be worried. I hated that she was here, reminding me of everything I had lost, and being in the way. Why couldn’t she just go back to her family and stop trying to impede on mine?

  “Of course. You’re family,” Mom said, her fingers twitching.

  Annabelle immediately reached out to clasp my mother’s hands, giving them a slight squeeze. “That’s a lovely thing to say. And I’m pretty sure that Roger mentioned something about lemon chicken?”

  “World-famous,” Dad said. I ignored the lines of strain at the corners of his eyes. He was exhausted, and I knew that while we were waiting for insurance to cover the full-time nurse, Dad was in limbo, like Mom was. I helped as much as I could, but between work and the fact that my parents didn’t want me doing everything, it wasn’t easy. But tonight wasn’t about that. Tonight was about happiness and peace—even if Annabelle Montgomery was a part of it.

  We settled into the dining room and ate a lovely dinner. Mom smiled and chatted the entire time. She wanted us to be together as a family, apparently even if a Montgomery was part of that. As we cleaned up, Dad took Mom back to their bedroom to help with her next set of meds, and I did dishes as Annabelle dried.

  “I didn’t realize you would be here,” Annabelle whispered.

  I looked over my shoulder, grateful that with the layout of the house, Mom and Dad wouldn’t be able to hear. “I thought we were going to stay out of each other’s way.”

  She shook her head, taking a plate from me. “I tried. But I have a standing dinner with your parents on Sundays. And sometimes I see them more often. Now that you’re here, it seems you’ll be a part of that. I’ve done this for years, Jacob. I’m not just now swooping in to ruin your life.” She paused. “According to you, I already did that years ago.”

  I flinched but ignored the barb. I was an asshole, and I knew it. “I don’t understand,” I growled.

  “You don’t need to understand it. My relationship with your parents and your brother has nothing to do with you.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. It has everything to do with me.”

  “You’re acting like such an idiot,” she spat.

  “I’m acting like a man who watched you parade around on TV after my brother died. I watched you in a pretty wedding dress, soaking up the limelight for apparent funds or whatever. Money my parents never mentioned to me. That is what I see when I look at you. I don’t see the good girl my parents apparently do. You can take this precious little fantasy of yours and shove it. I will not let you hurt my mom and dad.”

  Annabelle stared at me, blinking slowly before quietly setting down the plate she held, her hands shaking. “Please tell your parents thank you for dinner. I need to go.”

  I cursed under my breath. “Annabelle—”

  “No. I think you’ve said enough.” Then she turned and walked out of the kitchen. I sighed.

  “You’re going to want to come into the living room, son,” my father said, his voice stony.

  I set down the plate I had been washing, shut off the water, and turned to see my father glaring from the other end of the kitchen, his hands fisted at his sides.

  “Dad—” I began.

  “No. You’re going to get your ass out into the living room, and we’re going to have a talk. Because if I don’t have a second to calm down as you walk in here, I’m going to beat your ass for the way you just talked to that young lady.”

  “You don’t know what she’s done.”

  “No, it seems that you don’t. So, get your fucking ass into the living room.”

  I hadn’t seen my dad with this much energy or spark in months. I blinked at him before exhaling, then turned on my heel and made my way to the living room as ordered.

  My dad came the other way, his chest heaving as he worked through whatever the hell he was thinking. My mom glared at me, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “How could you?” she asked, her voice soft, cracking.

  “What? What is it about her? You saw what the press did with her. She used it for personal gain. I don’t know what kind of game she was playing, maybe looking for sponsorship deals or money or speaking deals. I don’t know. But her face was plastered everywhere, the perfect little wife who gave up her innocence for my brother. It was a circus around here at the end. Don’t you remember?”

  My mother swallowed hard. My dad paced behind her before gently putting his hands on her shoulders.

  “Annabelle Montgomery is our daughter-in-law,” my dad bit out, and I let out a breath.

  “Maybe legally, but not in any other way.”

  “You do not get to put your titles on her.”

  I looked at my mother as she spoke but didn’t say anything. I had a feeling if I did, I would only dig myself in deeper. I didn’t understand why they defended her like this or what I could be missing.

  “I thought you knew everything, but it seems you were so blinded by grief or anger or whatever the hell you think she did, that you missed some key aspects of what happened in those final moments. So, we’re going to tell you,” my mother said.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, uneasy.

  My dad patted my mother’s shoulder and then leaned down. “You rest, I’ll explain,” Dad said. He looked up at me, grief weighing heavily on his face. “When we knew Jonah wouldn’t have long, when we knew we were nearing the end, he said that he wanted one last thing. A hail Mary, he called it. He wanted to marry his best friend, to call her his bride, something he would never be able to do thanks to the disease riding his body.”

  “I know that part,” I whispered.

  “But do you know that Annabelle didn’t want to marry him or have any part of it? That she was afraid it would be too much for him?”

  I shook my head, frowning. “No, I thought she egged him on.”

  “You’re such an idiot,” my dad said, and my head shot up.

  “I know what I saw.”

  “You saw what she wanted you to see, the brave face she put on because she was losing her best friend. And she could have used another friend then, but you turned away from her because you were scared. And I get it. We did, too.” My dad let out a shaky breath, his eyes filling with tears. “We knew it was insane. That not everybody would understand. But it’s what he wanted, and when Annabelle saw your brother looking so happy at the thought of a wedding and some form of normalcy, she said yes. And she let herself become this other person who had to deal with the media and everything else because she needed to breathe. I only know a fraction of what she felt,” my father added.

  “She wrapped herself in such a shell that we couldn’t break through. But she was strong for Jonah. For our son. Your brother. And she raised thousands of dollars for research for cystic fibrosis. Hundreds of thousands. She went viral before viral was a thing. She did the media coverage and everything because she couldn’t do anything else to help the boy she loved. So, yes, she became a minor local celebrity and a small spark on the national media circuit along with Jonah. And I still don’t know all of the emotions she experienced, but I do know that she didn’t want to do it. Maybe she hated every minute of it. Perhaps she didn’t mind it. Who are we to judge either way?”

  “She said you asked her,” I whispered, trying to reconcile what I had felt before and what was going on now.

  “Yes,” my mother said, her voice firm.

  “Why?” I asked.

  �
�Because Jonah wanted it. My baby boy was dying, and I needed to give him something. So we asked Annabelle to do something she didn’t really want to do because I didn’t know what else we had for him,” my mother whispered. “And, yes, it was only a marriage in name and on paper, but it gave him joy for a few days.” Tears ran down my mother’s face, and I reached out to wipe them away, but my father shook his head and took care of her. I felt the blow even though it never actually came.

  “I don’t know what to think,” I whispered.

  “All I know is that life is short, and we have learned the hard way that we don’t get to decide when the end comes,” my mother said, her voice stern. This time, tears slid down my cheeks.

  “We don’t know what happens after this, but we do know what we can accomplish in the life we have. Who we can be during the time we have. So, I need you to go to Annabelle and fix this. I need you to see who she was so you can find out who she became. Because I love that little girl like she’s my daughter. She gave my son peace in a time there was none. And for that, I will forever be grateful. And I need you to know that we love you, too. I know you’re grieving, but I didn’t realize you didn’t know the full truth. That we asked. And that she hated every bit of it but was willing to do it because she loved Jonah. I need you to know that. And I need you to fix this.”

  My mother leaned back in her wheelchair, exhausted. I stood there, my hands shaking.

  “I didn’t know,” I whispered.

  Dad sighed. “Clearly. Now, fix this. Figure it out. Because she’s not the monster you made her out to be.”

  “Then am I the monster?” I asked.

  “The only monster here is fate,” my mother said softly. “But we learned that a long time ago.” And then she leaned against the headrest and closed her eyes. I could tell she wanted privacy, and my dad needed to help her.

  I nodded tightly and met my father’s gaze before turning on my heel and leaving. I needed to fix this. If not for Jonah, then for my parents. Because I’d said I would do anything for them. Maybe getting my head out of my ass was the first step.