Fostering Love (The Soul Sisters Series Book 1)
Page 2
It’s like being a teenager again, for both of us and I can’t believe I reacted as badly as I did. There was no way I was standing around watching her get hit on by some fuckin’ guy and it was happening, she may not have been aware of it but it was just a matter of time.
“Jonas, man, told you weeks ago, flying under the radar was never gonna work. That could have been a whole lot less traumatic for both of you, if you’d just told her you were coming back,” says Chris.
“Give it a rest Chris, anonymity is only gonna help me get this shit sorted quicker. Dalton being a fuckin’ pain my ass is not,” I snap back at him.
“And you don’t think she’s gonna be a pain your ass now you’ve just pissed her off and chucked her out of the club?”
“Yeah, that I will agree with you on, but I need my focus here not watching her flirting and coming onto every dickhead in the place.”
“OK. Whatever man, it’s your funeral.” Chris chuckles back at me as he takes a swig of beer.
“Jonas, baby, you ready to get out of here? Time for some fun…in private.” Letitia Brunel is another blast from the past, one I can well do without, but unfortunately needs must. The sooner I do this, the sooner I can start again.
Chapter Two
I wake the next morning feeling a little woozy, but on the whole considering what I put away last night, I know I’ve escaped lightly. Grabbing the water, I tank it back until my mouth starts to lose the sawdust effect. I start my usual night out assessment and then remember what went down.
NO WAY.
That is literally all I can come up with.
I’ve been in love with Jonas Drakeson for most of what I called my romancing years. We are both part of Barbara and Harrison Grigg’s foster family. I’d been with them since I was 9, moving from two counties away to live with them. My dad took off, taking most of our savings leaving my mother to fend for herself. I say this because that’s pretty much how she viewed it, she was left on her own, and I was just...there. He was the love of her life, she apparently wasn’t his one and only and I was even less significant. Hitting the bottle to numb her pain, meant missing work, which eventually led to her getting fired, bills being unpaid and us losing our nice two bedroom home and having to move to a one bedroom apartment on the other side of town.
Luckily for me, I say lucky, a neighbor put two and two together and called the authorities when it became obvious mom was selling all our furniture and was seen sleeping in the yard a few times. The neighbor used to take me in and give me a hot meal during the day whilst mom was cuddling the foliage. Things escalated when I told Doris one day over vegetable hot pot that I didn’t get much sleep the night before because mom and her friend were noisy all night. Much to her horror, I’d also shared the nature of the noises they were making and that they were naked and I was trying to sleep in the same bed. Within hours a police woman appeared and told me I was going to go and stay somewhere whilst mom got herself together. I was sad, but at 9 years old you just go with it.
She took me to Barbara and Harrison’s house where I got clean clothes, great food regularly and my own room. Barbara was a beautiful woman with thick shiny black bobbed hair, she had a generous full figure and always wore flowing skirts, tops and lived in flat comfortable shoes. She loved to cook and bake and seeing her at home without an apron on was a rarity. She took pride in those that she loved, which was something I had not experienced before. Harrison was a tall guy, who looked imposing to a small girl, but he had a smile that made you trust him straight away. His hands were always rough from working outside in the yard or building something in his shed. He loved Barbara and I used to get embarrassed when I saw him stealing a kiss from her. He told me when I was small that he’d always protect me. I’d never had someone who wanted to make sure I was OK. I’ve never forgotten that and the hug we shared when he told me that showed him how happy I was.
They also had 2 younger twin boys living with them, Jack and Jake, I helped look after them and played with them during the day. Jack and Jake had been with the Griggs since a few months after they were born, they’ve never known any other parent figures in their lives. It wasn’t until I was older that I learned they had legally adopted the twins who had been born to a wild, out of control high school mom. She was planning to keep the babies, but her parents had different ideas. She was told to choose between giving the babies away for adoption or finding herself homeless with twins. It seems at fifteen you don’t really have many choices and as hard as it was, she gave them away for adoption. Barbara and Harrison couldn’t have children of their own and had been on the adoption waiting list for some time. As it was a closed adoption that is as much as they know about her. The twins haven’t had any contact with her directly or via the adoption agency and they have never attempted to make any contact with her either.
After a month the Griggs sat me down and told me that my mom had disappeared and that if I wanted to, I could stay with them and start school. I felt bad because I hadn’t thought much of mom since I’d been there, but I felt happy and safe too, so I said “thank you” and my life took a normal turn. I joined the local school, met Neely, which in turn meant we met Flo and Lottie.
To my knowledge my mom has never attempted to see me, I used to ask Barbara when I was little if she was still around. Barbara wouldn’t make excuses for her and never lied to me about my mom not being part of my life but did say things that made me understand that I was loved and safe. She always made it known that if my mom came looking for me she’d support me through it. After a while I just stopped asking.
My next big world spin was eighteen months later when the Griggs took in a brooding 14 year old boy, up until then it had just been them, the twins and I. Jonas Drakeson was placed with Barbara and Harrison after his parents were killed in a car wreck. They were travelling into the city for something and sat at the back of a traffic jam when a tanker failed to brake in time behind them. Both the tanker and the Drakeson’s car exploded on impact and burst into flames. Jonas was at home with the babysitter and didn’t know anything was wrong until he got up the next morning. Instead of his mom being in the kitchen making his school lunch, he found a neighbor consoling the crying babysitter and a police woman on the couch. After she shared the news, she told him they couldn’t track down any other family members and that he was going to spend time with a foster family she knew well.
Jonas was a teenage boy and had a harsh look about him that still haunts his face at times today. He never opened up and spoke little and often. Family counselors confirmed he was capable; he was just a kid that didn’t waste words when a few direct ones would do the job. Harrison got Jonas involved in some manual house type stuff, whilst I shied away from his brooding demeanor at all costs. He was enrolled in school and it was well known that the moody troubled boy was now my big foster brother.
I don’t remember how long he’d been with us, but it was a while, when I had some trouble on the way home from school and Jonas swooped in like a hero and got rid of the bullies. From then on, I saw him differently. No matter what he did – and there was a lot of stuff – I always saw the best in him, idolized him and would do anything for him. As time progressed I began to realize I didn’t see him as my big foster brother. I started to get older, dress differently, fill out with the required lumps and bumps and on a whim decided to invoke the help of the now known “fun four” gang to get him to notice me.
Barbara and Harrison kept pretty strict house rules so I couldn’t progress my plan at home. This meant a during school/outside house attack. Jonas started to change too, he avoided me more and more and started to get into trouble, although nothing major. He was finishing high school and the way he was going his future said one thing – jail time. Meanwhile back on Planet Dalton, my attempts to get noticed didn’t go undetected. I’d managed to catch the eye of Christopher Hale. Chris was the local ranch owner’s boy, star football player and all round cowboy gentleman. Things with Chris progressed slow
ly and for a long time they were more friendly than romantic, he also didn’t notice my obsession with all things Jonas, or so I thought.
On returning home one night from a football game, I walked into the house to see Barbara, Harrison and Jonas sat at the kitchen table. Things were strained because he’d just been brought home by the local police deputy...again so I said goodnight and went to bed. After school the next day I came home to find a family decision had been made. Jonas had enlisted in the navy. His basic training was due to start in three days time. I felt like I was in some bad dream. He was leaving and I’d never told him how much he meant to me. I carried on in a daze and in typical Jonas style he left earlier than planned, he hated goodbyes. There was no “see you soon” or “take care”. No nothing. I began to act like I was mourning someone’s death and after 3 months Chris called time on our relationship. He said he knew my heart was elsewhere, I couldn’t argue with him and because he’s a gentleman he made it possible for us to remain friends.
Over the years, I’d hear Jonas was being posted somewhere far or to some dangerous place and he’d had been promoted to Sergeant. What he was doing was never really discussed, but I knew that Barbara and Harrison were totally proud of him and what he’d achieved. On the rare times he’d come home and stay for a few days or weeks we never really saw each other, even though I tried but it only ended up being family dinner nights that sort of thing. I was at college, soaking up the lifestyle and he’d be helping Harrison on a house project during the day and drinking and seeing old friends during the night. The one night before he joined the navy I decided to talk to him was the night he’d brought Letitia “Tits” Brunel home. Walking in on that scene was soul destroying and I skulked away to nurse my wounds and move on. I was civil towards him after that and that remained the case when he was on shore leave. We were functional as part of the family unit but we clearly wanted different things and my sensible side knew he was enjoying the navy and destined to travel whilst I was getting more and more wrapped up in photography and the theoretical study of it at college.
That was until last night. I didn’t know he was home. No one, not even Barbara had mentioned he had shore leave coming up, which was odd. His mood and attitude towards me wasn’t the civil Jonas I normally encountered, it was short, laced with temper and directed at me.
How fucking dare he!
Once again Jonas and his moods gave me feeling of conflict and seeing him was like a lightning bolt to the brain, unloading all those unreturned feelings. I needed to get the answers to all my usual Jonas enquiries. How long will he be back for? Where is he going when he leaves again?
I rallied my delicate self to locate my cell and dialed Barbara and Harrison’s home number. Using caller line ID she answered in her usual flair.
“Morning Dolly dear, how are you? I’m just baking a pie for the boys dinner. Harrison is pottering about somewhere outside and the twins had a late night doing lord knows what.” Her usual flair meant imparting all person’s activities and whereabouts for the day before you could get a word in to reply.
“Hey, I’m good, I got a little beer indulgent at girls’ night but I’ll recover. Listen, I saw Jonas. When did he get back? How long is he home for this time? I didn’t know he had leave.”
“Oh, well...ah...em, yes. You see funny thing that.” I could tell this conversation was already heading from random to strange. “He’s been home about six weeks and he isn’t going back. He’s left the navy.” She says very matter of fact.
Chapter Three
“SIX WEEKS! That’s insane. How do I not know this? I’ve even sent him texts and had nothing back.”
“He didn’t want a fuss Dolly dear, he wanted to come back home, take some time to reflect and settle a bit.” Well that was a rubbish explanation, explaining nothing, which has cleared up absolutely jack shit.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask surprised.
“He asked us not to tell anyone until he was ready; you know how that boy is about sharing. It’s his business and decision so we respected his wishes.”
“Has something happened? Is he OK?” My heart felt like it was up front and central, pounding in my forehead.
“I don’t think anything’s happened and I think he’s fine, but you know that boy, he locks up tighter than a clam until he’s ready.” I was speechless, he’d returned home, told Barbara and Harrison, met the guys for drinks and had probably done the nasty with his dry dock buddy Tits, all before I even knew about it.
“Listen Barbara, I’ve gotta go the house phone is ringing,” I tell her and hang up. I just needed to get off the phone. I did the most logical thing I could next. Hit a new text message option on the phone and type:-
Me: S.O.S
This was sent by group message to the girls. It was also code for girl crisis meet at Mudjoes as soon as possible. Within minutes replies came back, we had a meet scheduled for midday, the delay was due to Flo not being able to cut and run out on a class of high school kids.
Wrestling myself to the bathroom, I showered, brushed my teeth and then proceeded to straighten up the mess I’d created in my ‘get to bed drunk’ routine. I hustled to the kitchen and made myself a coffee; I also found some fruit, yoghurt and a bagel that were going to become part of my recovery solution. What I wasn’t sure about was if the headache I had was due to beer and tequila shots or over thinking and confusion. Thinking I’d be lost in some parallel non-communication universe I double checked that I hadn’t missed any contact from him.
Check1: House phone answer machine.
Jonas = No.
Wally at the photo shop = yes. He’d had an approach for my freelance photography services and wanted to see me.
Check2 : Cell phone and voice message box.
Jonas = No.
And nothing else in either the text or voicemail box that I hadn’t already dealt with.
Check3: Email
Jonas = No. Well let’s face it, it was a long shot and my last ditch attempt to unfuddle the muddle. He’d never communicated in writing before.
I did, however, have a note from a glossy out of town magazine that wanted some of my pictures. They were doing a story on football players and their journey through the season. I’d recently attended a high school game with Barbara, Harrison and Flo and taken my camera; I always take my camera. I was with the Griggs because the twins were playing, but because of Flo’s teacher status, I was able to get some behind the scenes close up shots of the team talk with Sonny, warm ups and pre-game preparations and emotional action shots throughout the game. I’d left my cards at the football field’s main office; you never know when someone is going to ask for photos of a son in action or when the local newspaper journo doesn’t take a photographer or camera with him and needs a picture to go with a story. I set a reminder on my phone to give the magazine a call when I returned from our crisis coffee. As there was no reach out by Jonas, I was still left with unanswered questions and the only way to get these without going to Jonas was to recruit the girls for a plan of attack.
A quick mirror check in the hallway of my apartment satisfied the answer to my most important question, do I look like death warmed up? No? OK. I’m good to join the town’s general population and after grabbing the keys to my 4 x 4 and my day purse I head out for the short twenty minute drive into town. My plan is to stick my head round the door at Hart, Hart & Smythe and give Neely a fifteen minute “go” warning and then head and check out the opportunity Wally referred to in his earlier message.
Parking outside Wallace’s Photo Shop on the main street was luck of the draw around midday. Fortunately, I bagged a great spot yards away from the front door. Once I’d reversed into the space and grabbed my purse, which also contained one of my cameras, I went to get out of the car and as I looked up there was Jonas across the street, deep in conversation on his cell. His head was down towards the sidewalk and his free hand was stuffed in the pockets of his very old, very snug fitted jeans. I had no id
ea what he’d be doing in town at midday but waiting a few minutes could provide more information. He paused outside of the local bank, looked up towards the heavens and laughed. It was shocking to see a true genuine smile on his face. I’d not seen one in a long time and if it was at all possible it turned him from handsome to purely beautiful, jealousy lashed through me. Someone else, just from a phone call could bring that reaction out in him and in this moment it totally contradicted the view point that Barbara had left me with of him. She said that he needed time to work through some stuff, it doesn’t like he’s troubled to me. After another minute of pacing and turning, pacing and turning, he ended the call, slipped his phone into his pocket and walked into the bank. Quick as a flash and desperate to avoid bumping into him, I darted out of my car and into Wally’s shop.
Wally’s shop was like the photo store that time had forgotten. It had a huge glass window with a big venetian shade in it, the shade was opened and closed depending on the sun’s schedule. He told me that as beautiful as the sun was, his solid wooden counter top was even more beautiful. He was right too, it was thick and had been an original feature in the shop. One of the duties I used to love was taking a tin of polish and making it gleam. Behind the counter were traditional bar stools that you could sit on whilst sorting through customer orders or working the big developer machine. The developer machine and cash register were his modern technology allowance, afraid that they would spoil the shop he had additional wooden boarding made to enclose them behind the counter and enabling him to keep the look consistent. The shop floor itself was traditional black and white tiles and housed nothing else but a few standing racks with things like batteries, film roll and other accessories. Over the years the shop hasn’t changed much, but one thing that does change often is the photos on the wall. Some were taken by Wally and some by me, they’re of people in his life and the places he loves. He says he smiles every day because he gets to see them whilst he’s at work. This makes me smile too because his choice to display my work with his own reminds me I am important in his life and considered family.