The Rebellion

by S. L. Scott

  He’s touching me.

  Derrick Masters is touching me and I consider lying there longer just to savor the feel of his calloused fingers again. Ace tugs at my ankle like that will help me up. “Mommy, you fell.”

  Mommy.

  Mommy.

  Derrick knows I’m a mommy.

  Oh my God. What does he think?

  Does he hate me? Disappointed in me? Happy for me? Or not care at all?

  I would care if I found out he has kids.

  Maybe he already knew . . .

  Maybe I’ll just lie here as long as I can until he goes away.

  Ace lies down next to me and rests his face on my hand. Looking at me with wide eyes, he asks, “Are we playing a game? This is fun.”

  “Yes, I quite like it here.”

  I hear Derrick chuckling just above me, enough to feel his warmth covering my body like sunshine as I lie in the cool grass. I might be mistaken but it sounds like he’s behind me now. On the ground with me.

  Ace’s eyes look over my head. “My friend is here too.” He giggles. “See? Right there.”

  Lying like a dead fish, I smile at my cute son not quite ready to face Derrick Masters. “What’s your new friend’s name?”

  “Derrick. He plays a guitar like you, Mommy.”

  After a tap on the back, Ace’s new friend speaks, “Hi.”

  I miss Derrick’s hands on me, even if it was just helping me up. Ace is a ball of laughter and gets up. I watch until he runs behind me. “I’m here now. We’re all here. This is fun. Oh look, the moon.”

  I can’t avoid him forever and the grass is grounding, literally, and settles my anxiety over just this kind of thing happening. I’ve embarrassed myself and he’s found out I’m a mother in the course of one sexy smile and a wave. I shake my head and close my eyes annoyed with myself for acting so foolishly in front of him. He was once my everything. When I roll onto my back, the top of our hands meet in an innocent touch that neither of us bothers to retreat. Finally building enough nerve, I turn my head and look straight into his eyes again. “Hi,” I whisper.

  That devastatingly charming smile reappears, and he says, “It’s good to see you, Jaymes.”

  Lying on the other side of Derrick, Ace pipes in, “Everyone calls my mom Jamie.”

  “It’s okay, buddy. He can call me Jaymes.” Just like old times. My gaze goes to the evening sky. I can’t see our fated lovers, but I can feel them, their presence mingled with ours.

  My mom’s voice slices through the feelings threatening to arise. “What are you guys doing out here?”

  Tilting my head, I catch another glimpse of Derrick on my way to looking at the three women who have congregated on the porch. All three with wry grins that will eventually mortify me with their teasing and taunting. “We were just coming in.”

  Ace runs to the house and I look at Derrick, not sure why I’m feeling so emotional. Fortunately, joy overrides the rest. “It’s good to see you, too.”

  He sits up and then he’s on his feet offering me a hand up. “That was quite a trip you took.”

  “I didn’t even bring a carry-on.”

  “No,” he says, chuckling, “but you played the whole thing off really well if that makes a difference.”

  I take his hand and he pulls me to my feet. In one fell swoop, my body is against his. The questions will come. I’ll answer. His piqued curiosity will be sated and then he’ll be off for good this time. I like this quiet before the storm I know is coming. Taking the few extra seconds I have before this bubble is burst, I let my gaze wander over his broad shoulders and higher. His chiseled jaw is shadowed in light stubble. His hair messed in ways that remind me of the mornings after we spent all night making love. Is it possible for him to be even more handsome than when we were younger? Because he is. He so is. It’s unnerving. I feel I’ve aged thirty years in the time we’ve been apart. He’s aged just right.

  Standing in front of him, pressed to him like this, and looking into those dazzling eyes that match the LA night skies, I feel myself melt. It’s not just that he’s even more gorgeous. It’s his eyes. His warm, caring eyes haven’t changed, and I’m a little in awe.

  “I have pie,” my mom says, receiving cheers from Ace. “Come on inside.”

  Seconds later the screen door slams closed and I know we’re alone. I mean, the whole city is revolving around us, but none of that matters.

  It’s us.

  The emerging stars above.

  And the man I once thought I would be with forever. We’re now standing in the same place where he left me. I don’t know what to say to him, except, “Rebel finally returns.”

  8

  Jaymes

  Derrick takes a step, his hands falling to his side, and his tongue running over his bottom lip. I think he’s unsure what to say, so I fill in the silence, “Come on. You always did like her pie.” The first steps I take are the hardest, but I keep going and it gets easier this time to walk away.

  His footsteps are heard behind me with each step up the stairs and across the porch. With the door in my hand, wide open, I turn back. “Don’t say anything about us in front of Ace. Okay?”

  “Nothing’s been said yet.”

  “Thank you.” I slip inside and walk into the kitchen where everyone’s gathered.

  Leah hands me a plate. Her eyes dart between me and the man I know is standing probably too close.

  I sit at the table as he’s handed a plate and fork. He sits down across from me and even though I’m doing everything not to look at him, I know he’s looking at me. The kitchen is too quiet. Ace is the only one oblivious to what’s really happening. He’s just thrilled to be eating dessert. If only my life were that simple. These days it takes a lot more than blueberry pie to make things better, though I can admit as I take another delectable bite, it’s helping.

  My gaze finally works its way across the lightwood tabletop and higher when Derrick says, “I’ve missed your pie, Mrs. Grenier.”

  I think he catches it as soon as I do, my mouth falling open. As my mom revels under the spotlight of compliments, I stare at him with wide eyes. He looks down and I see his chest puff with a hard breath. When he looks up, we share the silent joke together and smile. For a brief second it almost feels natural.

  I’m quickly reminded that we aren’t those people anymore. “Mommy?” Ace bumps into me and wriggles onto my lap, causing me to scoot the chair back to make room.

  “Yeah?”

  “May I leave the table? I want to go.” I smile. He is just the cutest little person.

  “Are you tired?”

  “I want to see my show.”

  Leaning my forehead against the side of his, I nod. “Okay, buddy. Go pack up your stuff.”

  He dashes off and that’s when I realize the room had gone quiet watching us, including the man across me. My knee begins to bounce and I tap the table twice. “Well, I should go. He’s going through a Curious George stage. I don’t know if I should be worried that he loves a troublemaking monkey or that the man only wears yellow.”

  “The yellow.”

  All of us look at Derrick when he speaks, but Ace walks in with his backpack and says, “I like yellow.”

  Derrick smiles, breaking whatever tension was building. “Me too, buddy.”

  My heart clenches hearing him call Ace by that name, but when he rubs the top of his head, I rush from the room. “Come on, Ace.” It wasn’t tension that was building. It was pain, regret, shattered dreams, and lost love. That’s what Derrick is to me now, and to see him be so sweet to my son breaks me.

  I don’t know if Ace has ever seen me move so fast. I’m halfway to the door before my arm is caught and I’m brought to a stop. “Hey.” I rip my arm away when I turn back. “Don’t touch me.”

  His hands fly up in surrender. “I’m sorry. Don’t leave, bab— Don’t go. I’ll go. You stay.” He corrects himself, but some habits die hard. I should know.

  “Don’t tell me what to do
. I’ve got to get my son home.”

  Slowly lowering his hands, Ace comes up next to him. Right there before me is the future I thought I’d once have. Blueberry pie isn’t going to fix the tangled mess my life became. Taking Ace by the backpack strap, I pull him closer until he’s in front of me with my arms protectively around his shoulders. And maybe I’m reading too much into Derrick’s expression, but it looks a lot like how mine felt moments earlier. He nods and steps around me as the ladies enter the living room. The door is opened and slams closed and my heart deflates when he leaves.

  Their three fallen faces kind of express everything. I swallow and say, “Thanks, Leah, for everything with Ace.”

  “No problem. Do you need me on Friday?”

  “No, class is online that night. My professor is out of town. Thanks though.” She hugs my mom and tells her she’ll see her next week. I’m given a sympathetic side hug. I’m sure I’ll hear more in the morning at the dealership, but she’s kind enough to let it go tonight. The door opens and I hear their muffled voices on the porch.

  Ace says, “I’m going to see Derrick.” I let him, too tired to worry about the what could have beens.

  “It’s good to see you, Diane.” Her whole face brightens and I’m instantly soothed by the smile I used to find comfort in. She comes to me and takes me by the hands. “Your mother has bragged about all of your accomplishments with school and Ace, your work. I’m so proud of you, Jamie.”

  The tears I denied in the kitchen come this time. Just two. I only allow two, but I let them fall. I’ve had an exhausting day and my emotions are paying the price. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.” It does. Her approval and support mean so much more than I ever thought they would.

  “You’ve grown from a beautiful girl into a stunning woman.”

  I look down from her gaze, feeling self-conscious. I don’t feel stunning. I feel harried and exhausted. “Thank you,” I reply tugging at the loose strands of hair hanging down over my neck.

  When I look back up, she says, “Well, you have a sweet little boy to get home and . . .” She stops to laugh. “I do too.”

  Now we all laugh. Sweet little boy? He hasn’t been that for a long time. She was always a role model when it came to parenting. The man out front is a testament to her efforts. I hope my son will see me the same one day. Diane and I walk outside and she gives me a warm hug. “I would love to see you again and spend some time catching up. Maybe you and your mother can meet me out for brunch this weekend?”

  Mom mode kicks in automatically. “I’d love that, but I have Ace. It’s only mom and me. Leah helps when she can, but I hate to ask too much of her.” It’s not until I stop talking that I remember Derrick is standing nearby, listening to everything I’ve just said. I dare look his way. Like the day I met him, I’m drawn into the ocean-blue of his eyes as the storm brews inside.

  Diane draws my attention back, and says, “You can bring Ace. He’s so delightful. It will be good to have a kid around. I’ll call your mom with details. Bye, Nita. Thank you for the tea and pie, and the company.” She squeezes my hand and walks down the steps to the sidewalk. “Are you ready to go, son, or do you need a few minutes?”

  Derrick looks from his mother to me. When I give him the smallest of head shakes, he replies, “No, I’m ready.” He steps past me and my mom embraces him. “Thank you, Mrs. Grenier.”

  “Please call me Nita. I think you’re old enough now.” When they part, she says, “Maybe you can join us again—”

  I interrupt in a flash, “Mom.”

  She smiles and shrugs. “I want to hear about the band. You’re not the only one who listens to them, you know.”

  My huff of annoyance comes louder than I intend, but Derrick ignores it, and says, “Next time then.”

  He doesn’t stop to hug me or even say goodbye. He’s quick to turn and rush down the steps, but he gets about halfway to the car and stops. I follow his line of sight. Ace comes running to him and Derrick kneels down so he’s eye level. I can’t hear what he says, but Ace bumps knuckles with him and giggles, making me smile.

  Before he stands, his eyes meet mine, and he waves. “Good seeing you, Jaymes.”

  “You too,” I reply with no regard to my crushing heart because it is. It’s so good to see him again, even though I’m fairly sure it will be the last time.

  I hug my mom and she then walks me to my car just as Derrick is turning his car around. His mom waves to us with a broad smile on her face, but Derrick doesn’t and just that little lack of acknowledgement feels a lot like rejection. I hate it. I swore I would never let a man control my emotions again. I fought for it. I fought for my sanity. I had to so I could be everything my baby needed me to be. But I guess when it comes to first love, emotions don’t play by the rules.

  I get in the car, make sure Ace is buckled in the back. When I roll the side window down, my mom leans in, and says, “You are an astonishing young woman and an even better mother.”

  Wanting to wipe the tears that have surfaced, I reply, “What brought that on?”

  “Sometimes when we’re caught in the crazy that is life it’s good to hear something positive, something we’re doing right. I don’t tell you enough. Tonight was a good reminder. You make me proud every day, Jamie.” She reaches into the back and tickles Ace. In a kid tone, she teases him, “You do too, big guy. Take care of your mommy. All right?”

  “I’ve got it covered.”

  My heads turns to the side as laughter boils up from his surprise comment. “I don’t even know what that means.”

  He winks, and says, “I’ve got your back, Mommy.”

  I’m not sure how much time he and Derrick actually spent together, but it’s apparent that it was enough to rub off on him. “And I’ve got yours, buddy. Say goodbye to Grandma.”

  When we get home, Ace is bathed and is now watching his show. He’s curled on the loveseat while I sit on the floor with my legs under the coffee table. A toy guitar was dragged out of the hall closet the minute we got home and he sat plucking the strings until his show started. The guitar was discarded, but for minutes after, I stared at the empty stand in the corner that used to hold mine. The pain over having it stolen still hurts. Even with the out-of-tune sounds of Ace’s toy, the room feels warmer with music filling it.

  Now I find myself with my laptop open, and although I do have my test material open in Word, I’ve also got a new browser open with four words sitting in the box ready to search as soon as I hit enter.

  Is Derrick Masters single?

  Right when I’m about to push enter, worry filling every second that ticks by, I hear the soft slumber of my little boy and look behind me.

  Smiling, I lean back and kiss his head, stand up, and then lift him into my arms. He’s growing fast. I’m not sure I’ll be able to carry him much longer, but while I can, I savor holding my baby in my arms. Before I take him to his room, I click the X and close the tab.

  It doesn’t matter what Derrick’s dating status is. My life is full of everything from raising my kid to work to school to finding a way to a better life at the end of the day. I don’t have time for love, or lust, or whatever that little ball of messy feelings is that’s growing. I just need to stop feeding it so it goes away. Just like Derrick did. Our dreams died the day he left. But I will achieve my dreams. My new dreams.

  He got the life he deserved, the rewards he’d worked so hard for. I never regretted the tactic I used. He would have stayed otherwise. I know it. He’d have driven off but he would have been back the next day. Breaking his heart meant breaking mine, but I’d do it again if it had the same outcome. Better to save his life than for both of us to suffer and eventually blame each other. Our love would have turned to hate, dreams stomped out like a cigarette. Hating the only man I ever loved wasn’t an option. It wasn’t the ending either of us deserved. It wouldn’t be living. That would be hell.

  It didn’t feel like a sacrifice despite the pain that consumed me. It was the
only option we had. He just didn’t know it at the time. Hopefully he never will.

  Derrick looked good tonight. Healthy. That’s what telling him to never look back that day did—gave him a chance at a happy life.

  9

  Derrick

  What just happened?

  Jaymes Grenier.

  That’s what just happened.

  “. . . pie recipe. What do you think?”

  Taking my mom’s exit, I brake when we come to a light and look at her. “Huh?”

  “I can’t put my finger on it and it’s driving me nuts. Cinnamon makes no sense with blueberries.”

  What the fuck is she talking about? “What?”

  “The pie.” She looks annoyed. “Nita’s pie. The secret ingredient. Have you not been listening at all, Derrick?” Her annoyance quickly turns into an all-knowing smile. “Ahhh. You haven’t been listening. Got something on your mind, or should I say someone?”

  “No.”

  “I say yes.”

  I glower. “I’m not ready.”

  A hand reaches over to comfort. “It was a lot to take in.”

  And Ace . . . Grenier? Rogers? Damn, she has a kid. “Did you know she had a kid?”

  Mom sits up properly in her seat as if she’s just taken the stand. “I did. I’m sorry, but you told me not to say anything about her.”

  My betrayed heart speaks for me, “A kid kind of overrules that, don’t you think?”

  “Don’t be mad, Derrick—”

  “I’m not mad at you. I just . . . I don’t know.” I deserved to know that she started a family with that asshole. But I’m not sure it’s the anger that I was betrayed by her, lied to by my mother, or the jealousy that she has a family with another man that gets me more upset. “Deep down I thought maybe we’d find a way back.”

  “You still can. She has a child. She’s not married.”

  “Why isn’t she married to Rogers? That’s Reggie’s kid, right?” Some friend he was. Fucker. Moved right in the second I moved out. They wasted no time. I don’t fully blame him for it. I knew he always had a boner for my girl. I guess screwing him over gave him the right to screw me over. She fell for it. She didn’t have to go there, but she did anyway and it felt like everything we had been through together, everything we were to each other meant nothing. She’d told me she loved me. The timeline is obvious. Did they even wait a day? Fuck me. The years apart were a waste of regret, making me regret every time I ever thought of her and for coming back.