“I’m really sorry, Jess,” Henny said. She sounded so apologetic that I immediately felt a pang of guilt.
“You know what,” I told her. “Olive and I can go together.”
“That sounds like ... an adventure,” Henny said skeptically. “You sure you’re up for that?”
I inwardly groaned as I looked up to see Olive still zooming around with her arms in the air, pretending to be a plane. She tripped over her own feet and tumbled to the ground, shrieking with laughter as she rolled around on the carpet.
“Sure,” I said through gritted teeth. “It’ll be fun.”
We hung up and I turned to Olive.
“You’re coming to the store with Mommy,” I told her. “You want your Elsa sneakers or your Moana sneakers?”
Olive responded by sticking her tongue out and blowing a raspberry at me.
An adventure, I thought as I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and walked over to the hall closet. Yes. That is what this will be.
An arduous half-hour later, I pulled into the parking lot. Taking Olive by the hand, I peered down at her.
“Mommy has to buy a lot of stuff that she’s never even heard of before,” I admitted. “So I’m going to be focused on that. You need to stay right by my side, okay?”
Olive nodded. “Kay,” she said, already looking with interest at the gumball machines.
“Maybe later,” I said. “If you’re good. Come on.”
Of course, the store was packed. I groaned to myself as I walked through aisle after aisle of totally foreign-sounding food. I’d never had much of an adventurous palate, but I knew that Ben had grown up eating really fancy stuff. I knew he had better taste than I did.
The only thing I didn’t know was whether or not I’d be able to pull off Coq au Vin.
I was in the cheese section, looking for something called ‘pecorino’ when I saw someone who made me freeze in my tracks. Maryellen Grove, Ben’s mother, was standing there with two blocks of cheese in her tiny hands.
My heart lurched to the side. Back in the day, both Maryellen and her husband, Arthur, hadn’t made much of a secret of the fact that they openly disliked me. I never knew the truth why: if it was my uncultured background or the fact that I didn’t behave as Maryellen thought ‘ladies’ should behave.
In my opinion, anyone using the word ‘lady’ after the nineteenth century was absurd ... and I wasn’t proud to admit that I’d told Maryellen that once.
She’d acted like I’d slapped her, and I had been too proud to apologize at the time. Thinking about that moment made me cringe – the only bad thing about having known Ben for so long was realizing just how much growing up I’d done since we’d first met.
Now, though, things were different. I was an adult, with a daughter – Maryellen’s granddaughter – and I wanted to set a good example. I knew the mature thing was to swallow up all of those immature feelings, go up, and greet her. Besides, she was technically family to my little girl. I wanted Olive to grow up knowing both sets of her grandparents – it might even give her a balanced perspective on the world that most kids didn’t get to experience.
“Mommy, what’s taking so long!” Olive shrieked.
In that moment, Maryellen looked up. We locked eyes, and I knew this was it – there was no backing out of talking to her, no hiding behind the magazines until she and her Pilates-toned ass had left the store.
Hoping that it didn’t look too fake, I pasted on a smile and walked over to Maryellen. She was still holding both cheeses in her hands and for some reason, that seemed absurdly funny to me.
“Hi there,” I said. “Long time, no see.”
Maryellen was still frozen in place. It took her a few seconds to come to life and when she did, a smile appeared on her lips but not in her eyes.
“Jessamine,” she said, nodding slowly like she’d forgotten who I was and suddenly remembered. “How are you?”
“I’m doing well,” I said automatically. “And you?”
She sighed. “Well, you know how it is – I’m on the planning committee for six galas in the spring and it’s just like there aren’t enough hours in the day, you know?”
I didn’t know – how one earth would I? But the thing about Maryellen was that talking to her was like talking to an alien. She had practically no experience dealing with anyone who wasn’t über-rich, and it was obvious that she didn’t care to change that.
I wasn’t bitter about Maryellen or her husband – I understood that I wasn’t the kind of woman they wanted for Ben. At the same time, I couldn’t lie – her behavior did sting, and I hoped Olive wouldn’t grow up being treated the same way. I could understand how Maryellen felt about me, but her granddaughter?
Hopefully, things would be different.
“Of course,” I said awkwardly.
We both fell silent.
“Nice weather we’re having,” I said after a pause. “Spring is finally coming ... feels like that took forever, didn’t it?”
Maryellen nodded. “Yes. I just bought some new patio furniture – it’ll be so nice to have everyone over for dinner al fresco.”
I blinked. Did she mean me? Had Ben told her that we’d gotten back together? I knew his relationship with his parents wasn’t the strongest in the world, but still: it wasn’t like Wilmington was a huge city.
“Yes,” I said, nodding my head at her. “That does sound nice.”
“Mommy,” Olive whined, tugging at my leg. “My feet hurt!”
Maryellen chuckled politely and my heart cautiously lifted.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” I said to my daughter. “We’ll leave soon – we just wanted to say hello to Mrs. Grove, didn’t we?”
“Hello,” Olive said shyly. She hid behind my knees and peered out from around the side of my leg.
Maryellen had a strange look on her face, and suddenly I realized that there was nowhere else on earth she’d least want to be than standing with me in the store. I had to do something to break the tension, or I was going to melt right into the floor.
“Well, I know we haven’t always gotten along in the past,” I said lamely. “But we’ll have to start getting along now – we are family, after all.”
Maryellen’s face went deathly white with shock. Seconds later, she recovered and tittered the most uncomfortable laugh I’d ever heard.
“Why, no, dear,” she said. “My dear Benjamin is recently engaged!”
In a millisecond, the world came screeching to a halt. I groped through the air, desperate to find something to grab onto. My heart slammed painfully against the side of my chest and my stomach heaved and churned.
I couldn’t believe it. Grabbing Olive, I turned and ran out of the grocery store, leaving my cart with all of the dumb foreign food that I’d picked out inside. My vision blurred with tears and I felt like everyone was staring at me, watching and laughing and pointing with their fingers.
Olive was shrieking and whimpering but I barely heard her cries as we emerged into the bright sunlight. I felt like I had tunnel vision: the only thing I could see in my mind was Ben, smirking at me as he told me he loved me. Ben, reaching for my hand and kissing the back of it.
Ben, looking at our daughter with love and pride in his eyes.
The entire time, I had been nothing but a toy to him. Sure, he’d come back – but now, he was clearly serious about someone else. He’d just been fucking with me, messing up my life, treating me like a piece of garbage and throwing me away.
I don’t remember the drive home, or unbuckling Olive from her booster seat and carrying her quickly into the apartment. Without even thinking about it, I put on a movie for Olive and told her to stay in the living room. I threw myself down the hall and dove onto my bed as the sobs began. Olive followed me, her eyes nervously watching as I cried and cried.
“Mommy, what’s wrong?” Olive asked. “Why are you crying?”
I knew that I could never tell her the truth. I’d have to make something up, something about
how Ben had to go away and never come back. I’d have to lie and tell her that I’d be just fine in a couple of days, that all mommies got sad sometimes.
And then, I’d have to start working on making myself believe it.
30
Benjamin – One Month Later
When a couple of days went by and I didn’t hear from Jessie, I started to get a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. I had been calling and texting her to no avail – was something wrong? Had something happened? Normally, we were in constant contact – we texted back and forth all day long, from the time she got up with Olive in the morning to when she went to bed.
It wasn’t the kind of thing I’d normally do, but after four Jessie-less days passed, I drove to her apartment complex and knocked on her door. There was no answer and when I pressed my ear to the door, there was no laughter or squealing from Olive. The door across the hall opened and a guy gave me a strange look. I realized that what I was doing was totally creepy and straightened up.
“Sorry,” I muttered as I shoved my hands into my pockets and walked away.
It wasn’t exactly that I was worried – Jessie had always been incredibly independent. Maybe she and Olive had gone on a trip with Henny that she’d forgotten to tell me about, or maybe there had been some kind of crisis with her family. She had so many brothers and sisters that it seemed like there was always some kind of drama there, and I tried putting it out of my head.
But I was puzzled.
A long, solitary week passed, and then two. I concentrated on learning what it would take to build my future business. I looked into houses for Jessie, Olive, and myself in the greater Wilmington area, concentrating especially on the beaches. I even set up a college fund for Olive – she was young, but I knew time would pass quickly as she grew up and sooner than later, she’d be heading off to university.
I tried to give Jessie space, but the strange feeling in the pit of my stomach was slowly morphing into an awful feeling. What if she’d gone away and something had happened to my darling, curvy goddess? What if something had happened to Olive? I told myself that Henny would have let me know if she knew anything ... but then I remembered the way she’d looked at me the night I’d arrived to pick Jessie up for a date.
Something was seriously wrong, and I didn’t know what it was.
Meanwhile, my mother was going whole-hog planning my wedding. I tried to tell her multiple times that we needed to slow down, that my fiancée needed some time, but it was like she didn’t even hear me. I felt like my life was completely spiraling out of control, and every day was worse than the last.
Finally, after almost a month with no word, I started to get angry. How the hell could Jessie just disappear like that? With our daughter, no less? It would have been one thing if she’d decided she didn’t want to be with me anymore and broken up with me, but this was something else entirely.
I’d had enough. I knew women could be temperamental and flighty, but Jessie had always been so honest with me about her feelings. She’d always laid everything right out in the open, been completely transparent.
I didn’t deserve this, and I was going to get answers.
With my mouth set in a tight, angry line and my jaw clenched, I drove through Wilmington and parked my Land Rover outside of Jessie’s apartment complex. Her bedroom light was on, and I stormed inside and knocked on the door.
“I know you’re in there,” I called loudly. “And I’m not leaving until I get answers from you.”
There was no response, but I heard a shuffle on the other side of the door.
“Jessie, come on,” I said loudly, knocking again. “I deserve to know what’s going on!”
There was still no answer, and I gritted my teeth and knocked one last time.
“I’m going to call the cops to do a wellness check on you if you don’t open the damn door,” I said loudly. “So, come on!”
I heard the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door and momentarily had a flash of panic. What the hell was I doing, playing the Big Bad Wolf? Threatening to blow Jessie’s house down because she wouldn’t talk to me?
I was about to turn and leave when the door opened a fraction of an inch. When I saw Jessie’s big brown eyes on the other side of the door, my feeling of entitlement vanished and the anger came rushing back.
She glared at me.
“Go away, Ben,” she said quietly. “I’m done with you and your shit.”
“What?” I asked. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re the one who disappeared on me!”
Jessie huffed angrily, her nostrils flaring and her eyes going wide.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she yelled. “Now, go!”
And then, the door slammed in my face.
I blinked.
What the fuck was going on here? I was stung and so angry that I could hardly see straight as I stormed away from Jessie’s door and got into my Land Rover.
Had she developed some kind of latent anger all of a sudden, from when I’d been gone for so many years?
Had Henny gotten to her, poisoned her against me?
Or had this been her plan all along – to take her revenge on me and break my heart just like I’d broken hers?
I couldn’t believe that could be true. Jessie was many things – vivacious, boisterous, opinionated.
But cruel wasn’t one of them. No, that wasn’t Jessie’s style. If she didn’t want to be with me, she wouldn’t have gotten back together. And if she’d wanted to hurt me like that, she would never have introduced me to Olive, who surely had to be wondering what had happened to me.
Fuck, what a fucking mess.
Now, more than ever, I was dying to know what had happened. What had changed? I had so many questions, and the only person who could help me answer them was clearly not going to cooperate.
With my heart feeling like a brick of ice, I drove into downtown and parked outside of the bar where Margot worked. Inside, it was empty and quiet – there were only a few patrons bellied up to the bar. I walked in and sat down at the end of the counter.
When Margot saw me, she blinked.
“What can I get you?”
I clenched my jaw for a moment. “Whiskey,” I said. “No. Scotch. Make it a double.”
Margot’s eyes widened and she nodded. It was my first time seeing her since the fight we’d had, which had been a month ago. I’d heard snippets here and there from my mother, but I hadn’t asked for any details.
Now, seeing her again, I realized what an ass I’d been.
Margot carried the bottle of Scotch over. She hopped over the counter and sat down next to me, shaking her head.
“I was such a dick to you,” I told her. “I’m sorry.”
Margot raised an eyebrow. She set the two glasses down on the bar and filled them, nearly to the brim, before clinking hers against mine.
“What happened?”
I sighed. “I don’t fucking know,” I muttered before draining my scotch in a single gulp.
Margot filled my glass without even looking at me.
“Well, something must’ve happened,” she said evenly. “Because you’re not the kind to show up in the middle of the day and drink like that.” There was a beat of silence before she added: “Or apologize.”
I sighed and put my face in my hands. The scotch was burning in my stomach but I didn’t care. I didn’t know if I wanted to feel pain or feel nothing at all.
What I wanted was to demand an explanation from Jessie and learn the truth.
“She won’t talk to me,” I said hoarsely. “She ignored me for a month and then I went over there and threatened to call the cops to do a wellness check on her.”
“Jesus,” Margot muttered. She sipped her drink while I slammed down the second glass of mine.
This time, I refilled my own glass.
“What did she say, exactly?” Margot asked. She narrowed her eyes at me. “What did you do to her?”
“
Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “She ... she said that she was sick of my shit, whatever that’s supposed to mean.”
Margot cleared her throat. “That’s really strange,” she commented. “She ... well, she didn’t really seem the crazy type.”
“Something must’ve happened,” I said. “But how the fuck am I going to find out?”
Margot shrugged.
I threw back my third scotch and refilled my glass. My head was already getting foggy from the booze and confusion and I put my face in my hands and closed my eyes.
“Ben,” Margot said gently. She put her hand on my arm. “Look, I’m not going to say that I told you so, but—”
“Don’t start,” I said, looking up and turning to my sister. “Don’t even start with that.”
“Look, maybe she just ... I don’t know, had some kind of dream that you left again and got really mad about it,” Margot said. She shrugged. “Women do things like that sometimes.” She made a face at me that in any other circumstances, would have made me burst out laughing. “We’re emotional creatures,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“But why wouldn’t she talk to me about it?” I asked. “Why is she keeping all of this to herself?”
Margot looked pained.
“I ... I don’t know,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
When I closed my eyes, I felt woozy and loose, almost like I was falling through space. The scotch was working its magic, but I didn’t feel any better. If anything, I just felt even more desperate and angry.
“I have to win her back,” I said, opening my eyes and looking at Margot. She shifted and blurred when I tried to focus, and when I reached for the bottle, she put her hand on my arm.
“Don’t,” she said.
“Why not,” I slurred. “I love her, I need her in my life. She’s the only woman for me,” I continued blearily.
“No, I meant, I’m cutting you off,” Margot said. I groaned as she got to her feet and hopped over the bar, then took the bottle and the glasses away. My head was starting to ache and my heart felt like it had been ripped out by a giant fish hook. I had never felt this kind of pain in my life, not on this level – it was even worse than the day I’d seen her first playing with Olive and thought that she’d married someone else.
Secret Baby: A Second Chance Navy SEAL Romance (Forbidden First Times Book 4) Page 19
