by Kennedy Fox
“Look how cute y’all were,” I say, glancing down at young Jackson, imagining John.
They’re standing next to each other in front of a prize-winning horse. Kiera is looking at the camera smiling, but Jackson is looking at her. There are so many unspoken words in this photo, and I want to ask her every detail, but I don’t. Kiera stands next to me and looks at the picture too.
“Those were the good ole days before Jackson’s ego became the center of his universe, and he became an asshole.” A tinge of sadness sprinkles her tone, and she immediately smiles and returns the photo back on the mantel.
“So I’m all yours. Where do you need me?” I ask, trying to change the subject. Keira leads me into her bedroom, which is a total wreck. Clothes are scattered around, and boxes are stacked against the wall. Her bed isn’t made, and there are shoes, belts, and riding accessories everywhere.
“I’m a hot mess,” she admits, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Show me someone who’s not.” I laugh.
I feel the shift in her mood and study her face as she picks at her nails. “I know moving in with Trent is a big step for our relationship. I’m really excited about it, but I can’t help but wonder if I’m doing the right thing.”
“Do you love him?”
She looks up at me with twinkling eyes and smiles. I can tell she’s thinking about the two of them together. “Absolutely.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about. It’s change. Change scares everyone. Hell, change scares the ever-living shit out of me, but it’s a part of life. We accept it or stay stagnant, and we both know that’s no fun.” I sit next to her on the bed, thinking about my own issues.
“You’re probably right. I just get nervous and second-guess myself too much. I love Trent. He makes me really happy, but…”
“But he’s not Jackson,” I finally add.
“Damn him,” she whispers under her breath. It seems as if I hit the nail on the head.
“By what you’ve told me, he’s had a million chances. If Jackson’s too hardheaded and stubborn to admit how he feels, fuck him. I spent four long years of my life in love with a man who didn’t love me in the same way. I would’ve waited an eternity for him to see what he had standing right in front of him. Now after everything that happened, I realize I’m better off. I found the man of my dreams. And it seems to me like you’ve found yours. Don’t you ever let him go,” I tell her.
“You sound like Emily.” She pats me on my leg and stands. “The truth is, I can’t keep waiting around. My ovaries are about ready to shrivel up as it is. I want the big house, white picket fence, and plenty of kids to beat up those Bishop kids. I’m ready to settle down and start a life with someone. Jackson’s too busy sticking his dick in anything that has a mouth while Trent is willing to give me the world and has been for the past year. There’s just no contest between them.”
I think about Jackson and seriously want to slap him upside his head the next time I see him. Kiera is beautiful and in a great relationship, that she now second-guesses because of her feelings for Jackson. I make a mental note to possibly kick him in the balls because he deserves it.
Kiera begins opening her dresser drawer and throwing clothes into boxes as she continues chatting about Trent. “I would’ve never given him a chance if it wouldn’t have been for Alex and River’s wedding. I think back to that moment and how special it was to me. We did nothing but talk all night about horses, riding, and our future. Little did I know we’d be spending it together.”
I love listening to Kiera swoon over Trent. It makes me think of John, and I realize I need to help speed up this packing process, so I can get back home. “All the clothes in your closet going?”
She nods and hands me a box. I open the door, and the closet is the size of a small bedroom. There are more cowboy boots than high heels and more blue jeans than dresses, but I wouldn’t expect anything less. I take the hangers of jeans and fold them in the box, hoping it will save her some time when she unpacks at Trent’s.
“How far away does he live?” I ask.
“Just six minutes down the road.” She laughs. “I timed it.”
“That’s not too bad,” I tell her, scooting one box of clothes into her bedroom and reaching for another. “What are you doing with your house?”
“I plan to rent it out fully furnished. It’ll be a nice side income until I figure out what I want to do with it long-term. Plus, the view in the morning is to die for. Are you looking for a place?” She wiggles her eyebrows, then remembers I’m leaving in six short weeks. “Sorry. I keep forgetting.”
“I wish I could. Though I doubt John would allow it anyway.” I give her a small smile. “It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life.”
Kiera stops and looks at me with the most serious look on her face. “It’s only temporary. I get what John is doing, and I can respect a man who wants his woman happy even though she’s not happy about it. But I’m willing to bet money you’ll be back. I’m not buying this whole you’re gonna go to Georgia and fall in love with some bratty little kids at a school. There are bratty kids everywhere.” She winks.
I burst into laughter. “I promised John a school year.” I groan. “Nine long months.”
“Whatever you say!” She lifts her hands up in the air but gives me a side eye. We continue packing until all her clothes and shoes are neatly stacked in boxes. She removes pictures from the wall and pulls her blankets and sheets from the bed. I follow her to the laundry room as she stuffs it all in the washing machine.
“I’ll just need to take down all the big framed photos around the house, finish packing the kitchen, grab my books, empty the bathroom, then the rest is basically staying. This might be the easiest move I’ve ever had.”
“Do you want me to help with the bathroom or kitchen?” I ask.
“Nah. Trent’s going to come over later and help me pack some boxes, but it will probably take a week for me to finish. Since I’m already basically living with him, it’s not too big of a deal. I’m just ready to get this place rented. The pictures will probably be the last thing I worry about. They’re photos of all the horses I’ve trained.”
My eyes go wide, and I’m impressed. “Really?”
“Yep. It’s always hard letting go after we spend so much time together, so I like to take photos of them, have them professionally developed and framed. That way, they’ll always be with me.”
“That’s seriously the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” I say, covering my hand over my heart.
She pulls her out her cell phone and snaps a photo of me.
“You’re so damn cheesy,” I tell her, and she chuckles. “Well, I guess I’m gonna get going then. If you decide you need more help, let me know.”
Kiera gives me a big hug and thanks me. “I’m gonna miss you, Mila.”
“Stop. You even you said it yourself—I’ll be back.”
She walks me outside and watches me drive away. Though she’s much older, Kiera is that girlfriend I always wished I had in college. On the way home, I’m lost in my thoughts. I think about Kiera and Trent, and John and Maize, and going back to Georgia. I think about my parents and brother and sisters, and Gigi. Before I realize it, I’m pulling into John’s driveway. Though it’s hotter than hell, I let out a sigh, feeling grateful to be here.
Once I’m out of the car and walking toward the house, I see Jackson standing by the barn complaining about someone on his cell phone. I’m tempted to give him his ball kicking right now, but considering he seems like he’s in a bad mood, I save it for another time and walk up the porch.
As soon as I open the front door, I see Maize in her Jumperoo and John lying on the couch watching TV with his legs propped up. She notices me and smiles bigger. When John hears my voice, he waves me over. I go to him, and he pulls me down on top of his chest and kisses me.
“Finally,” he whispers across my lips. “That took way too long.”
Just as he de
epens the kiss, Maize begins to cry. We laugh against each other’s lips.
“I’m pretty sure she has an internal anti-kissing clock or something.” John gives me another quick peck. “I got it,” he tells me.
“It’s okay.” I sit up with a laugh, go to her, and pull her into my arms.
“You’re getting heavy, little girl,” I say softly. She places her head against my shoulder, and my heart flutters. A piece of me can’t help but wonder what she’ll think when I’m gone or how confused she’ll be that I’m no longer here. It makes me feel awful knowing her mother only got nine weeks with her, and I’ve already had months with her.
What precious moments will I miss?
Will she forget me?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
JOHN
The weeks and days have passed quicker than I could’ve ever imagined. For once, I want time to slow down. I want Mila to stay longer and my baby girl to quit growing. I want to bottle it all up and keep us here like this forever, but considering it’s close to the end of June now, the clock feels like it’s ticking much faster than before.
Each morning, we have breakfast and coffee, and every day, we do a quick lunch. When I’m able to, I sneak home just to see them throughout my shifts. If I could take off the next three weeks and enjoy every moment with Mila, I would. However, summer is here, and the B&B is the busiest it’s ever been, which is why taking off for mediation today frustrates the ever-living fuck outta me.
Before I’m up, breakfast is already made. Mila is acting extra sweet this morning, and I appreciate her so damn much. I quickly eat then throw on the suit and tie I have in the back of my closet for Easter Sunday and Christmas. When I walk out, Mila gives me a popped eyebrow and sucks on her lower lip.
“If I didn’t have somewhere to be…” I go to her, kissing her neck, running my lips across the softness of her skin.
“What time are you meeting the lawyer?”
“I have about two hours. He wants to go over a few things before we enter the mediation room.” Though it’s not necessary to have him present during mediation, I refuse to be around the Kensingtons without a witness, considering they’re so vile.
Just as I’m heading out the door, Mila grabs my hand and pulls me back to kiss me. “Good luck, sexy. You’re gonna do great. Don’t be nervous. Remember, you’ve got the final say in everything, so don’t let them intimidate you.”
My mouth paints across hers. I’m so thankful she’s my cheerleader and number one supporter. Today I really need that. “I might ask Mama to watch Maize tonight,” I tell her with a grin, and she knows exactly what I’m insinuating.
“You’re keeping that suit on then because I want the pleasure of taking it off.” She gives me a smack on the lips, then a slap on the ass before I leave. Only Mila knows how to brighten up my sour mood.
The hour drive goes by fast, but I’m still nervous about this whole ordeal. Mama helped find the perfect lawyer to represent the case who laughed at the legal paperwork and threats. I know the Kensingtons don’t have a leg to stand on, but mediation is the first step for most custody battles and will hopefully show them what rights they don’t have. I was told through the grapevine they thought I’d cave and wouldn’t fight back, knowing I didn’t have lined pockets, but what they forgot was my parents do. Unlike them, my parents always have my back, and I wouldn’t be able to do this without them. However, I’d fight to the death for my baby girl no matter what. No one can put a price tag on my child. The thought angers me all over again. I try to take in a few deep breaths and calm down as I’m pulling into the parking lot of the office space that was rented for the meeting.
My lawyer, Jason Morris, is standing on the sidewalk chatting with an older woman. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was flirting. I park and realize he’s wearing snakeskin boots with his suit, and it actually looks nice with his solid black cowboy hat. He looks like a country Colonel Sanders all the way down to the white goatee and black-framed glasses. Once he lays eyes on me, he lifts his hand and waves me over.
“Ready for this, son?” he asks, patting me on the shoulder when I’m close. “Not a damn thing to worry about. But we do have some stuff to go over.”
We walk inside and head toward the conference room that was booked. The mediator hasn’t arrived yet, so we’ll have plenty of time. I enter the large room, and we both sit at the table. Mr. Morris pulls out a stack of documents, all correspondence between the Kensingtons’ lawyers and him.
“Now this is what we call legal bullshit.” He slaps the papers down on the table, and I know exactly why Mama wanted me to hire him. Though we’ve only met a few times, he carries himself as if he takes no crap from anyone. The man should be a judge.
“So give me a rundown of what happens.”
“The mediator will enter and introduce himself. You’ll both get the opportunity to discuss your problem with zero interruptions. Then the mediator can either go between the two of you to try to work out the problem or speak while you’re all in the room. There may be a negotiation, which is written down, and then we all go on our merry way. If there’s not an agreement, basically you’ll be advised on your rights. It will be a quick process, considering they have zero legal rights. It’s a scare tactic meeting, which I don’t take kindly to,” he adds.
I continue asking questions until I feel at ease with the process. Soon, the mediator arrives and so do the Kensingtons with their lawyer. The room goes frigid, and my body tenses. I can’t even look in their direction without feeling a rush of anger.
The mediator sits, introducing herself. “My name is Erin, and I’ll be mediating today so that maybe we can all be on common ground and find a compromise.” She continues with the rules, and when I finally glance over at the Kensingtons, I can tell they’re more nervous than I am. Probably because I know my rights, and they have none.
The Kensingtons open with their introduction along with their concerns. When they state they believe I’m an unfit father for their grandchild, I’m about two seconds from interrupting them. My lawyer looks over at me, making sure I don’t lose my cool, which somehow, I’m able to do. I swallow hard when they mention my finances and why they feel they’d be better guardians to raise their deceased daughter’s child. By the time I’m able to speak, I’m so furious that I have to take a minute to get my words together.
“First, I’m a great father to my daughter. I’ve given her everything she needs—food, clothes, shelter, and most importantly, love. She has care around the clock and someone to take care of her while I’m working. I work twenty feet away if something were to happen. My issue is the Kensingtons have zero rights of my daughter. They’ve offered money in exchange for her. They’ve trespassed on my property, threatened me, and used scare tactics. My name is on the birth certificate, and a quick paternity test would prove she’s mine, though she looks just like a Bishop. Since Maize’s mother is no longer here, and directly warned me about them, I can only uphold her last wishes. I don’t appreciate their insults when they don’t get their way. I have the right to decide who my daughter sees until she’s eighteen years old, and the way it stands now, she will not be around them. It’s important for me to teach her how to treat other people and how to be compassionate. The Kensingtons show none of the traits I want my daughter to learn, so as it stands, I have nothing else to say regarding this matter.”
The mediator looks back and forth between us, and I know she has to stay neutral, but I can tell she’s not buying the Kensingtons’ story.
Though my lawyer is allowed to confer, Erin was very clear about me speaking for myself. Regardless, Mr. Morris speaks up. “Let me also add, the law doesn’t grant grandparents any sort of guardianship without proof of Mr. Bishop being an unfit parent, which he isn’t. He doesn’t have a criminal record and has never been in trouble with the law. So if there’s nothin’ else to discuss, my client and I will be on our way.”
The Kensingtons shift in their seat as they whisper
back and forth to their lawyer, who I assume is agreeing with mine. “We’d like a moment, please,” they say and walk out of the room. They are gone for at least thirty minutes, seeking legal advice, I’m sure, before they return. An hour has already passed, and nothing has really been resolved.
Over the next hour, Erin asks us each open-ended questions so she fully understands what the situation is and our thoughts.
“We didn’t know she had a baby until we hired a private investigator to find out more about her life. Admittedly, we weren’t the best parents to Bailey. We held her back a lot of the time, and the only piece of her left is Maize. Because of this, we feel we need to at least try to be in our only granddaughter’s life. We acted out of disparity because we’ve not fully been able to grieve the loss of our daughter. There’s a lot of guilt for us because we didn’t even know she was sick. We weren’t there for her when she needed us the most because she’d written us out of her life when she turned eighteen. So to find out she passed away, alone, with cancer destroyed us. To find out she had a baby before she passed gave us some sort of hope to stay connected to her. There are so many things we wished we could change but can’t because she’s no longer with us. It’s not an excuse to treat you the way we did. We’re sorry, John, and we hope one day you’ll be able to forgive us because our daughter never did, and that’s something we’ll have to live with for the rest of our lives.”
For the first time since meeting them, those words were ones I understood. They actually seem like genuine human beings, and I can’t help but feel something toward them.
