“Pap,” Jude groaned, “what have I told you about the eggs?!” Not waiting for the man to respond, he continued, “They spoil. You either need to sell them, or toss them. You can’t eat all these.”
Lowering the newspaper, the older man responded. “Andrew, I’ve taken care of myself this long, I think I’m fine.”
Andrew?
“Pap—?”
“The yard needs to be mowed, do you think you can do that?” He talked right over Jude.
Jude shook his head. “You know I will, but not—”
“Today, please. It’s looking shabby.” His eyes landed on me. “Who’s this? Oh…is this Julia? She’s lovely, Andrew. You’re description didn’t do her justice. She’s stunning.”
I shot Jude a questioning gaze.
“Pap, we’ll be right back.” Jude reached for my hand and pulled me from the room.
“Alright, I’ll finish my breakfast while y’all talk,” the man said from the other room.
Once we were in the living room away from the kitchen, Jude released my hand. “I should’ve explained before we walked in here. I don’t know what I was thinking,” he muttered, shoving his fingers through his hair so it stuck up wildly. “That’s my grandpa, which I’m sure you’ve figured out. He has Alzheimer’s. Some days are good, some days are bad. Very bad. Like today. He was fine yesterday, so I thought he’d be okay today.”
“So, Andrew is…?” I prompted, my gaze travelling around the room. An old piano sat in the corner with an even older couch. One of those giant Grandfather clocks took up space against the wall. I’d never seen one in person. This house was screaming to be fixed up.
“My dad,” Jude clarified.
“And Julia?” I tilted my head to the side.
“I don’t know,” he frowned. “My mom’s name is Karen. When he gets like this, I’ve found it’s best to play along. He gets mad if I contradict him.” Jude’s eyes grew sad. Normally he always smiled or laughed, to see him like this was a new experience for me. Jude loved his grandpa. That was obvious.
“I don’t understand what any of this has to do with answering my question,” I muttered, suddenly feeling even more uncomfortable. It had to be a terrible thing to lose your memories.
“It has everything to do with it,” Jude said simply. Pointing in the direction of the kitchen, he explained, “That man in there practically raised me. He was more of a dad to me than mine ever was. Watching him slowly start forgetting things hurt more than anything. When I started college, I knew I wanted to be a nurse and work in a nursing home. I wanted to work with people like my grandpa and maybe make their day a little nicer. I want to help, because watching someone you love slip away day by day is a terrible thing. If I can ease the burden for another family, I’m glad to do so.”
I think my mouth fell off at one point during his speech and currently rolled around on the floor.
Jude Brooks had a heart.
Hell must have frozen over. Between this, and my conflicted feelings over Graham’s death, today was proving overwhelming.
“You don’t need to say anything,” he shrugged. “But that’s the truth.”
I shut my mouth, because if I spoke I might say something nice to him and that would not be good. Instead, I nodded.
“Are you okay to go back in there?” He asked, appearing nervous—like he believed I’d be afraid of his grandpa.
“Of course,” I replied. “He’s not a rabid animal.”
Jude threw his head back and laughed merrily about that. He laughed a lot. Most guys didn’t. It would be refreshing if he wasn’t, well, Jude.
Back in the kitchen, his grandpa said, “Son, get the yard mowed. You’ve got all day to flirt with the pretty girl.”
I looked out the kitchen window at the sky beyond. It was getting dark now, too dark to mow.
“I’m going, I’m going,” Jude chanted.
“You can’t mow in the dark!” I cried. I don’t know why I was coming to Jude’s defense, but I knew I couldn’t let him do that. On a property this large, it would be impossible to mow in the dark.
He leaned into me, brushing strands of my blonde hair off my shoulder with a single flick of his fingers. Whispering in my ear, he said, “I installed a headlight on it. I’ll be fine. Besides, I won’t do it all. Just enough to make him happy.”
“But—” I gaped.
“You’ll be okay?” He framed it as a question.
I looked from his grandpa to him and nodded.
“Just play along,” Jude reminded me.
His steps thumped against the old floors as he headed outside. The screen door creaked shut and I was left alone with the eldest Brooks.
“Lovely morning, isn’t it?” He nodded towards the window.
“Beautiful.” I agreed.
“Are you hungry?” He asked. “I made plenty. Grab a plate for yourself.”
“I already ate,” I assured him. “But thank you for asking.”
He nodded. “I see you have manners. I like that. You’re a pretty girl, Julia.”
“Thank you,” I said again.
“You’re too good for Andrew,” he continued. “That boy’s trouble.”
“Is that so?” I asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from him. The table and chair set looked like it was made in the seventies. The chairs were a pukey green color and the table was a dark wood. “Tell me more about Andrew.”
The man smiled, his eyes lighting up. He lapsed into a tale about a wild boy and all the shenanigans he pulled. I wondered if Jude’s dad was really like that, or if his grandpa’s Alzheimer’s had caused him to combine Andrew and Jude’s childhood.
I found myself intrigued by everything the man said. I didn’t want him to stop telling me stories of his and Andrew’s past. I wanted to ask him about Jude, but since I was ‘playing along’ I knew that was strictly forbidden and I didn’t want to make his grandpa mad by asking something he didn’t remember.
“Come with me,” the man stood. “I’m Jerry, by the way. I’m so sorry I didn’t introduce myself. My rude son should have made the introduction for us.”
“Sometimes Andrew forgets his manners,” I said. It felt weird to call Jude by a name that wasn’t his.
“That he does,” Jerry agreed, leading me through the house. “I raised him better than that. Sometimes, you do all the right things, and they turn out to be the wrong things.”
I nodded in agreement, mulling over his words. “That’s very true.”
“I grew up in this house, and my father before me,” he said, looking around with nostalgia written on his face. “It’s been in my family for generations.”
“It’s a beautiful home.” Despite the fact that it was falling apart, it had good bones. With enough money and manpower, it could sparkle like new again.
“I wish Andrew thought that. He hates this place. He can’t wait to get away,” Jerry rambled. “He doesn’t want to live a farmer’s life. I can’t say I blame him. It’s hard work.”
“I’m sure he’ll change his mind,” I assured Jerry.
He shook his head. “No. Once Andrew sets his mind to something, he doesn’t change it.” Smiling at me, he added, “He’s like me. Stubborn to a fault.”
I couldn’t help laughing. The same things had been said about me more times than I could count.
“I should stop rambling about Andrew and show you the place. This is obviously the living room.”
I’d already seen this room when I was with Jude, but I didn’t say that. Instead, I looked around and told him how nice it was. “Do you play the piano?” I asked, nodding to the upright in the corner.
He shook his head. “That’s Mae’s. My wife,” he added. Looking around, he said, “I haven’t seen her this morning. I wonder where she is.”
“I’m sure she’s around here somewhere,” I patted his arm. Jude hadn’t mentioned a grandma, so I assumed she was gone. It broke my heart that Jerry was so clearly stuck in the past—in a t
ime when his wife was alive and his son was still home.
He led me upstairs, showing me the bedrooms and bathrooms. The upstairs was a little more updated than the rest of the house.
The last room he showed me was ‘Andrew’s’ but from what I saw in there, it had Jude written all over it.
The walls were painted a dark blue and the furniture was old and well worn. The bedspread was blue and gray stripes and gray curtains hung beside the windows. A calendar with scantily clad women hung on the wall. There were some clothes strewn around and enough odds and ends to tell me that someone still occasionally used this room.
Jerry took me downstairs again and showed me a sunroom. I was sure it was beautiful during the daytime.
“Huh,” Jerry tilted his head as he looked out the wall of windows, “it got dark fast. I forgot lunch…and dinner.”
I frowned, but didn’t say anything.
“Are you hungry, Julia?” He asked me.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Well, I am. I’m going to make something for Andrew and me to have when he comes in. You can stay out here if you want. Or go out on the porch. There’s blankets in a basket beside the couch in the living room.”
While he went back in the kitchen, I decided to listen to his suggestion to sit out on the porch. I grabbed a blanket, which was right where he said it would be, and found a rocking chair on the front porch.
It was completely dark now, but there were small solar lights dotting the walkway leading up to the front of the house. They provided enough light to illuminate the fence and some of the animals.
I shivered and wrapped the blanket tighter around my body.
Today was shaping up to be interesting. I didn’t know quite what to make of it.
Jude was beginning to break down the wall of cinderblocks I’d built around my heart and myself. I didn’t want to be his girlfriend, or even his friend, but he was weaseling his way into my life and I didn’t like it one bit. Or maybe I did like it and that’s why it scared me so much.
“I thought you might want something to drink.”
I jumped at the sound of the voice. Jerry stood beside me with a glass of water. I hadn’t heard him approach. My heart gradually slowed and returned to its normal pace. “Thank you.” I took the proffered glass from him. He didn’t reply as he turned and disappeared inside once more.
I took a sip of the ice-cold water. I was thirsty and hadn’t realized it. I drank every last drop and set the glass on the ground beside me.
I rocked slowly in the chair, letting my eyes drift closed as I hummed softly under my breath.
It was nice here and I really liked Jerry, even if he didn’t know who I was.
Somewhere in the distance the sound of the tractor cut off.
A few minutes later a sweaty Jude bound up the steps.
“Tired?” I asked.
He jumped at the sound of my voice, pushing damp hair from his eyes. “I’ll live,” he winked.
“Your grandpa’s making dinner,” I told him.
“He was eating when we got here,” Jude groaned. “I’d joke that the man’s lost his mind, but that would be the truth,” he shrugged, sighing heavily. “And the truth makes for a pretty shitty joke.”
“Do you stay here with him often?” I asked, unable to help myself as I remembered the room Jerry had shown me earlier.
“A few times a week,” Jude admitted. “It depends on classes and how much time I have. This place isn’t exactly that close to school.” He shrugged.
“No one else takes care of him?” I asked. I was full of questions today.
Jude shook his head. “Only me.” Muttering under his breath, with venom lacing his words, he said, “No one else cares.”
Something in my heart shifted.
I was beginning to realize that I’d misjudged Jude.
I’d hated him for the stunt he pulled with Graham’s girlfriend and the part I’d believed it played in Graham’s death.
I’d hated his whole playboy demeanor.
I’d hated the way he always seemed to use women.
But, the fact of the matter was, I didn’t really know him.
Right now, this man in front of me, was the real Jude and he just might be worth getting to know.
“I’m going to shower before we go,” he informed me. “Pap will be mad if we don’t stay for dinner. I hope you don’t mind.” He appeared almost sheepish.
“I don’t mind at all.” It was true. I liked Jerry and I hated to think of him sitting in this house eating dinner alone. In fact, I’m pretty sure it broke my heart.
“Good.” Jude’s smile was wide, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
With that, he disappeared inside and through the screen door. I could hear his boots slamming against the steps.
I stayed outside for a moment longer, admiring the way the stars sparkled like new diamonds and the sounds of nature weren’t masked by car horns and chaos.
Maybe there was a little bit of a country girl inside me.
I stood and folded the blanket, draping it over my arm. I placed it back inside the basket I got it from and joined Jerry in the kitchen.
“Can I help?” I asked, leaning against the doorway. My stomach came alive at the smell of whatever he was cooking.
He turned to look over his shoulder at me. “Of course, sweetheart.”
I smiled at the term of endearment. I might not like Jude, but I was kind of falling in love with his grandpa.
As I approached, I noticed he was stirring something in a large pot with a wooden spoon. “You take over with this,” he told me. “I’ll get the table set.”
I leaned closer to the pot and smelled. “Mmmm,” I couldn’t contain my hum of approval. I hadn’t had a home cooked meal like this in a long time. I could cook, but nothing I made could ever compare to how this smelled and I hadn’t even tasted it yet.
Jerry chuckled from somewhere behind me. “You like the smell of that.”
“It smells so yummy,” I told him, stirring the mixture carefully.
“That’s my Mama’s world famous chili. That recipe has been passed down for generations,” he explained, setting bowls and napkins on the table. Returning to my side he said, “That should be done now.” He peered down at the mixture and nodded. “It’s perfect.”
He reached in front of me and turned off the stove eye. He picked up the pot, carrying it over to the table and placing it on a trivet.
“Julia, there’s some cornbread in the oven, could you grab that for me?” He asked.
“Absolutely,” I replied, slipping an oven mitt on and reaching inside to pull out the pan. I placed it beside the chili and put the mitt back where I found it.
Before I could sit down, Jude strode into the kitchen. “Something smells good,” he sniffed the air, reaching above his head to clasp the top of the doorway leading into the kitchen. I swore he did it on purpose because the gesture did amazing things for his muscular arms and the way his shirt pulled taut over his chest hinted at a six-pack.
And oh my God, I was staring—and not just at anyone, but at Jude Freakin’ Brooks.
Had my brain taken a vacation?
I cleared my throat and hastily turned my head away. From the telltale smirk on his face he hadn’t missed the fact that I had checked him out. I was never going to live this down.
“Andrew, stop gawking at the pretty girl and sit down and eat.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” he saluted his grandpa.
Jude and I sat side by side, facing his grandpa. He ladled out chili into all of our bowls and then bowed his head to say grace. Jude and I hastily followed suit, mimicking his position.
Once that was done, we all ate like we were starved to death. I could understand why Jude and I were hungry, but his grandpa had eaten ‘breakfast’ when we got here. It broke my heart that the man was basically losing his mind. It was horrible—something no one should have to go through, and no loved one should have to watch.
I glanced at Jude out of the corner of my eye. He watched his grandpa carefully, his jaw clenched and his eyes lined with worry. If there was one person in the world that Jude loved, it was his grandpa. Today showed me that there was a depth to Jude anyone rarely saw. I might not like him, but I’d take this small gift he’d given me by showing his true colors.
“This is delicious, Jerry,” I spoke up.
He smiled widely, pleased that I enjoyed it. “I’m happy to hear that. You should come over one day and I’ll teach you to make it.”
“Really?” I lit up at the same time that Jude said, “Quiet, Pap.”
“Certainly,” Jerry nodded at me. He narrowed his eyes at Jude, “Manners, boy.”
“Sorry,” Jude bowed his head like a small child who’d just been scolded.
It was so weird to see Jude cave so easily to everything his grandpa said. He respected and admired the man.
Once dinner was done, Jude and I stayed to clean the dishes. On his way out of the room, Jerry said, “Make sure to fix a bowl of leftovers for her to take home.”
“Will do,” Jude chimed, turning on the hot water and taking the bowls from my hands. “I’ll wash, you dry.”
We stood side by side, cleaning and putting away the dishes used.
If someone had told me a week ago that I would be in Jude’s grandpa’s house cleaning dishes I would have told them they were batshit crazy, flipped them the bird, and strode away.
But right now, there was no place I’d rather be.
I’d forgotten what it was like to sit down with other people and eat a meal. But it was more than that. There was a comfort present in this home that had long been absent from mine—even before Graham died.
Sometimes, I think the mind has the ability to make you forget traumatic things, at least temporarily. I wondered what all I might have blocked myself from remembering.
“I hope he wasn’t too bad,” Jude murmured under his breath in case his grandpa still lurked near us. “I didn’t want to leave you alone with him, but I knew he wouldn’t quit asking me to mow and I if I didn’t do it, he’d try to and—”
I surprised us both by reaching up and placing a finger against his lips. It effectively ceased his rambling, but now we were locked in a staring contest and I wasn’t sure who would look away first.
Saving Tatum (Trace + Olivia #4) Page 6
