by Cindi Madsen
Since we were talking years, my lovely commitment issues screeched to the surface, but I sucked in a deep breath and told them to cool it—silently, so I wouldn’t look like a crazy person. We were talking in ifs and possibilities, and I could take it a day at a time and see how it went. The salary wasn’t as high as what I probably would’ve made as an acquisitions manager, but I’d be able to sleep at night, and it was more than I made at the bar, with the possibility to make even more in the future. Plus, it meant turning my side hobby into more of a side job.
All in all, it seemed so perfect for me that I almost worried it was too good to be true.
We agreed to a start date and start time—it was revoltingly early, but I’d make it work—and then Betty-Joe told me she’d see me next week. “You tell Jackson that I said hello and that I’ll find a way to thank him for everything yet.”
“Oh. I…” Man, for someone who usually kept a tight lid on her emotions, I suddenly wanted to pour out everything that’d happened between him and me. I really needed to…get more sleep or something. “See you next week.”
Later I’d have to drop a few hints that he and I weren’t talking all that much. Right now, I didn’t know if I could do it without crying, and surely once I had another week behind me that’d be all but gone, right?
…
For the first time in weeks, I felt an emotion other than resigned sadness. In fact, I’d dare say I was excited. I closed up my tabs at the bar and rushed out of Azure. I’d dropped the bomb on Tony that I needed to go to part time but withheld the fact that if things went well, I’d be turning in my notice.
I buzzed over to the Victorian, and another swirl of excitement went through me when I saw the rental car in the driveway. I practically sprinted up the sidewalk and almost used my key before realizing I should probably knock instead, what with it not actually being my house.
The door swung open, and Dixie and I crashed somewhere in the middle, our arms going around each other as we squeaked out high-pitched greetings. For someone half my size, she sure had a tight grip, and I’d never been so happy to be robbed of air.
“Let me get a good look at you.” She pulled back and ran her gaze over me. “Pretty as ever.”
“Thank you. You look amazing—obviously coastal life suits you,” I said. I meant it, too. Her honey blond hair hung in loose waves, and her skin had that sun-kissed glow. Footsteps made me glance over her shoulder, and Rhett entered the room. He looked the same, save a few strands of gray peppered throughout his light brown hair. “Hey.”
He surprised me by stepping forward and wrapping me in a hug. “Good to see you, Ivy.”
“You, too.”
There wasn’t any furniture, so we sat on the floor and caught up. They were happy in Charleston and spent their free time gardening and boating.
I told them about my new job and how excited I was to start.
“You did an amazing job with this place,” Dixie said. “When I first walked in, I thought I’d gone and stepped into the wrong house.”
Pride flooded me, giving me a light, floaty feeling. “Thank you. It was so much fun transforming the place.”
“And we’ve already got an offer. Just came in today.”
Everything inside of me froze and turned to stone. “Oh. That’s…great.”
Dixie’s forehead crinkled. “I thought that would be good news.”
“It is. I’ll just…” I pressed my hand to the smooth wooden floor Jackson had spent hours laboring over. “I’ll miss it. Do you ever miss it? Miss the memories we had here?”
Dixie’s eyes went shiny with unshed tears. “Of course I do. I…” She brought a shaky hand to her lips. “Some of my best memories were in this house with you and your mama. How is she?”
I glanced at Rhett, because it was a little weird to talk about her with him in the room, although I wasn’t sure exactly why.
“I’ll give you gals some time to talk,” he said, leaving us to it.
Once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. I told Dixie about the ups and downs, about the night Mom had taken all the sleeping pills, and basically spilled my guts about how hard it was for me to deal with her sometimes. Guilt pressed in, but I needed to vent to someone who knew her and loved her, even as hard as she made it sometimes.
“I wish I could’ve been there for you more,” Dixie said.
“Are you happy? With Rhett?” I wanted her to read between the lines and tell me if it was worth it.
A smile spread across her face, her eyes going a bit dreamy. “So happy. I wish it hadn’t hurt Cora for me to fall so in love with him, but to have someone who understands me and loves me, even when we’re not getting along…” She flattened a hand to her chest and sighed. “There was a point I thought I’d never fall in love, never have someone I could count on. I loved you and Cora, and those times you lived here with me, but you came in and out, and admittedly, I had a lot of lonely times. Then Rhett and I started dating—”
“You liked him before, though,” I said. She seemed surprised but didn’t contradict me. “The scrapbooks. Those pictures told a story.”
Dixie pressed her lips together and nodded, and a tear slipped out and ran down her cheek. “I always liked him. But I swear I never did a thing until he and Cora were through.”
“I believe you,” I said. And I did.
“I’ll always love Cora, but she never chose me or put me first, and Rhett does. The loneliness went away with him. Everything in my life just clicked right into place, like he was exactly what I’d needed all along. When I’m down, he picks me up, and I do the same for him. We make each other better.” She wiped at her tears, and her smile returned. “These past nine years have been the best in my life. I wouldn’t take it back, I’ll tell you that. If you find love like that, you hold on to it. You do whatever it takes.”
I tried to swallow but couldn’t. Then I started fidgeting, her words digging at me even though I tried to bat them away. “So you just came to get your stuff and for the sale?”
“Mostly for my stuff—I left my scrapbooks behind, because for a while, they were too painful to look at. But lately, I’ve been wanting them. I’m ready to look back and remember the good, even if the bad makes me a little sad. I’ll probably have to fly over again when the house closes.”
“Did you…?” I cleared my throat, but it didn’t make the lump that’d lodged there go away. “You accepted the offer?”
“Not yet. They offered the full asking price, but our relator suggested we see if any higher offers come in. Rhett said he’ll let me decide, and of course I planned to discuss it with you before I made a decision, since you put so much into the place. But to tell the truth, I kind of just want to get it over and done and get back home. I definitely want to see you as much as possible before I go, though.” She put her arm around me in a side hug. “I have missed you. If your mama would’ve let me, I would’ve kept you here with me so that you wouldn’t have had to go through all those ups and downs while you were growing up. I know it wasn’t easy.”
I shrugged, like it was no big deal.
“I think that after she lost your daddy, she was forever scared to lose anyone, and that always seemed to push them all away, making her fears come true. But she was always most afraid of losing you. She loves you, even if she doesn’t express it like most people do.” She rested her head against mine. “I hope you know that I love you, too. If you ever need anything, you can always call me.”
I nodded, and a couple of my own tears slipped free. “I love you, too. And I do, thanks.” I sniffed. “I’m just going to take one last look. If you don’t mind.”
“’Course not. Rhett and I were just talking about dinner. When you have several favorite restaurants that you miss, it’s hard to pick one. You’ll come with us?”
“Sure.”
She left to talk options with Rhett, presumably, and I stood to take my last look. I started with the dining room, peering up at the light fixtur
e that I still loved, and thought back to a night before it’d been put in, when there was just a tiny table in this room. Jackson and my knees had knocked together as we’d played strip poker—there hadn’t been any losers that night.
I wandered into the kitchen and thought about our nights eating takeout while leaned against the counter. About how when I was going out of my mind with the news Mom was dating again, Jackson put me to work tearing down cabinets. And after I’d gotten out some of the tension, he’d guessed it had something to do with my mom because he knew me that well.
Then I thought back to even before that, to the first day he showed up with his toolbox. While his reluctance was clear, he hadn’t laughed in my face or left me alone to deal with the mess I’d made. Time and time again, he always managed to show up when I needed him most.
Like the night I called him at four in the morning because Black Widow was having her kittens and I didn’t know what to do, and he raced right over.
I made my way back into the living room, and of course the first thing that greeted me was the “prelude blue” wall Jackson and I had passionate sex against when we finally gave in to our off-the-charts chemistry.
The hollow space in my heart opened up with the memories, but instead of shutting them down, I let them flood in. Maybe I was a masochist, but I just wanted to remember all the good times once more before I said good-bye.
I climbed up the stairs and studied the light fixtures I’d put in after Jackson showed me how. Every room was a story of arguing and compromise, none more so than the apple green bathroom with the faux-wood tile—that might’ve been mostly Jackson giving in.
Then there was the last room.
My room.
The reading nook brought more tears to my eyes, along with a clashing mix of sorrow and happiness and so much missing Jackson that I thought it’d send me to my knees. He’d built that nook for me, even though I only got to enjoy it for a little while. I recalled that last night, cuddling in bed, watching a movie, making love—
Holy shit. Did I just refer to sex as making love? I shook my head, trying to dislodge it, but it didn’t work. This is where I fell in love with him.
With every coat of paint, every nail and swing of the hammer, every floorboard laid, we’d built something, and along the way I fell in love with him.
My phone pinged, and I automatically looked at it.
Savannah had emailed me. I almost ignored it in favor of opening it later, but I could use a distraction right now.
I’m trying to stay out of it, but I was going through my slides and thinking about you, and how when I was about to walk away from Linc, you were the one who talked sense into me. I didn’t want to listen, but your words pushed me down the path where I realized just how much I needed him, regardless of what had happened in the past.
So don’t be mad, but I couldn’t help myself. Maybe my other steps don’t apply to you, but I think this one applies to everyone, and I just want you to promise me that you’ll think about it. And I’m not just saying this because Jackson is sort of miserable without you, although he is.
Step Twelve: Realize there are ups and downs in every relationship. When you inevitably hit road bumps and wonder if it’s worth fighting for, ask yourself if you’re a happier, better person because of him. If so, love means accepting someone for who they are, the same way you want them to do for you. Strong relationships are built, not stumbled into.
I love you no matter what. Let’s get coffee next week and catch up, okay?
Damn her. Damn her for knowing me so well and pushing me when I was trying to keep my iron grip on my rules and not hers.
Now I was standing in the room, tears blurring my surroundings.
There was no doubt I was a happier, better person because of Jackson. Obviously I did need fixing, because anyone who’d give him up had to be insane. I was the one who had all the loose screws.
He made it clear that he accepted me for me, even though I frustrated him sometimes. Okay, a lot of times. He could frustrate the hell out of me, too, but that never stopped him from telling me what I maybe, kind-of, sort-of needed to hear. We pushed each other to be better.
I loved him for showing up and worrying about me working for those smarmy jerks, even though it also pissed me off that he’d stormed right into the middle of it, the same way it’d pissed me off that night at the bar. I loved that he was so smart and witty and challenged me in ways I’d never been challenged before, even though those qualities were also why I occasionally wanted to strangle him.
I replayed the words he’d said about no one else being strong enough to love a strong girl like me.
Strong. Which meant he didn’t think I was completely vulnerable and broken. Speaking of strong…
He told me he loved me, even after I pushed and pushed and pushed.
He loves me.
And damn it, I love him.
I’d tried everything to stop it, but he’d ignored my super-reinforced walls and had me breaking all my rules, and honestly, I’d given over a piece of my heart that night he’d shown up at the hospital. I hadn’t taken it back, and since then, he’d won over piece by piece, until my heart completely belonged to him.
I had no unearthly idea how to proceed from here. I’d never been good at relationships, mostly because I stubbornly refused to believe they could work out, but I did happen to be best friends with a certified expert. I hesitated, worried I’d get her hopes up along with my own. But this was too big to screw up. Again.
Even if he forgives me, how will his family? I broke his heart right in front of them.
That thought only steered me into scared-shitless territory, so I shoved it away to be worried about later and focused on the love part.
I love him, and he loves me. I never thought that was enough before, but I found myself hoping that it was. Please, please let it be enough, because now that I know just how much I love him, I’m not sure I can live without him.
My fingers shook as I pulled up the contacts on my phone. I scrolled to the name I wanted and tapped the phone icon.
Savannah answered after the second ring. “Is this the mind-your-own-business call?”
I licked my lips and moved closer to the window, bracing my hand on the frame. “This is the call admitting that your years of attempting to brainwash me must’ve worked, and now I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Wait. What?” I rarely managed to surprise my best friend—she took my slams on love in stride, laughing them off and accepting me for me—but I could hear the shock in her words. I could even picture her, straightening and pressing the phone tighter to her ear, sure she must’ve misheard me.
“I…” I paced the length of the bedroom, my rapid pulse hammering in my head. “I want to believe in happily-ever-after. I want to believe in Mr. Freaking Right and The One, and that love can last if you find the right person, and all that stuff that I swore was sappy bullshit.”
An excited squeal carried over the line. “I’m not one hundred percent sure this isn’t a dream, but I’m going to choose to believe it’s real, because I just pinched myself and it hurt like a mother.”
I laughed.
“Where are you? I’ll bring my slideshow over right now.” If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d heard her laptop snap closed in the background, and I had no doubt she was seconds from packing it into her bag and climbing in her car to meet me.
“I don’t need a slide show. I just need…” I glanced around at the many surfaces that’d taken on a new light since realizing they led to this excruciating yet thrilling torn-apart sensation in my heart that whispered once again how in love I was. “Your infuriating, super-hot, surprisingly sweet and understanding brother. I need him, Savannah.” There. I’d managed to admit it to my bestie, and I sure hoped that was half the battle, because it wasn’t easy.
I wanted everything with Jackson—throw in the damn picket fence while we were at it, because as long as he lived behind it with me, I didn�
�t care about anything else.
Living together.
Me and him, in a full-blown relationship with no end in sight. All of his family speculating over when we’d get married and have kids and…
My lungs tightened to the painful point, even as my heart did its best to cling to the hope and love part of things. Come on, anxiety, just a little break would be great right now.
“Need? Wow,” Savannah said. No inspirational quote tacked on, speaking further to the fact that I’d stunned her practically speechless.
I paced back to the window, needing the physical reminder of the reading nook to reinforce how well Jackson knew me, in spite of how hard I’d tried to keep him out. “But I’m crazy set in my ways—you know that better than anyone. I’ve spent so long believing that love wasn’t for me, that I was perfectly happy being alone, and that even if I wasn’t, no one would love me for me. I know that long-term relationships inevitably end in tears and disaster and hating the person you swore you’d always cherish. I know they rarely last and that I have way too many issues for it to actually work. I know all of that, yet…”
I dropped to my knees, rested my head against the cool glass, and closed my eyes, feeling like my world was spinning out of control. I pictured Jackson standing in front of me, steady and strong, his green eyes matching the greenery in the background as he’d asked me to put my faith in him.
Savannah’s steady breathing came over the line, but she waited, probably afraid to say anything in case it scared me into taking it all back. I appreciated her patience as I worked through the mess of thoughts and emotions and tried to figure out how to put it all out there.
“And yet,” I said, picking up where I left off, “here I find myself hoping that I’m wrong, because my heart keeps trying to tell me something else. I’ve never felt the way I feel when I’m with Jackson, and yes, I am a better, happier person with him.”
