by HJ Bellus
The bitter aroma of coffee fills the kitchen when I enter it. Nana is in her housecoat, curlers in her hair, while she frantically jots down her to-do list.
“Morning.” I wrap my arms around from behind and kiss her cheek.
“You’re up early, Firecracker.”
I smile at the nickname.
“Smelled the coffee.” I snag a mug from the cupboard over her shoulder and fill a cup.
Nana remains in the spot for long moments before grabbing her lavender-colored Avon mug and Papa’s. She fills both up, adding one sugar cube and a splash of milk to hers, leaving Papa’s mug straight black. Tears fill her eyes as she sets both on the table.
I reach over and grab her hand. She doesn’t say a word as she continues writing her list. The most influential woman I’ve ever known sits before me, shattered. My heart clenches at the scene. She experienced the strongest love known, and now it’s about to destroy her. I crave to fix it all, but I can’t. There were so many late nights and early mornings where she held me when I was in pain. She was always there. Now it’s my turn. No matter how painful it is to be back in this town, I’ll be here for her.
I grab a piece of paper from the table and flip it over, picking up my own pen. Writing has become an escape for me. An avenue I never thought of until I was left in the world all alone. It’s become so much more. My passion and outlet out of my reality. I create all sorts of stories, letting the ink bleed on the paper.
“How am I going to wake up every morning without him?” Nana’s pen topples to the table. Her wrinkled hand tremors.
When I glance up at her, silent tears roll down her face. I’m up and at her side holding her, absorbing each one of her shudders.
“I don’t know, Nana. I don’t know. What I do know is that Whit and I are here for you. We aren’t going anywhere. Lean on us. We got you.” I run my hand up and down her back.
When she’s able to talk, it crushes me. “You hate it here. I know you can’t live here and have a life somewhere else. I can’t do this, Jules.”
“Hey.” I drop to my knees. “Listen to me. You’re right, this might be the last place on earth I want to be. The thing is I’m not leaving you. I don’t care about the rest of the shit. You are the only thing that matters.”
“I wasn’t truthful yesterday,” she admits.
I crane my neck, urging her to go on.
“Jessie and your papa did a lot together. The older we got, the more he came around to help out. He never saw pictures of Whit. It was nice to have him around and helping us out.”
I’d be a liar if I said that didn’t sting like a bitch. If I could see past all the anger and hatred, I’d be thankful Jessie was here for them.
“Okay.” I gulp down a lump of emotion clogging my throat. “I’m okay with that. He helped you guys when you needed it. I can’t be pissed over that. It’s going to take time to adjust to life here. The bottom line remains the same—I’m here for you as long as you need me.”
The tears continue. The heartache races forward, and all I can do is hold on.
“Momma.” A sleepy voice creeps in from the hall, followed by a messy brown-haired girl wiping the sleep from her eyes. “Is it bacon time?”
It takes Whit a few moments to gain her bearings. Nana rushes to wipe away her tears. Whit’s too smart not to catch on.
“Oh, Nana,” she coos, racing over to her and climbing up into her lap.
Whit’s tiny hands clutch her cheeks. Smooth, youthful skin pressed against worn, wise, wrinkled skin. Whit’s chipped hot pink fingernails smooth circles on Nana’s cheek.
“You gonna be okay?” Whit nods her head.
“I am now.” Nana wraps her up in a tight hug.
Whit throws her arms around her neck. I lean down and kiss the top of Nana’s head. Everything is going to be okay. Papa was our foundation and strength. He made us into the women we are today. We might not know the way he fed the cows, planted the hay, or harvested, but we sure in the hell will take care of it.
“I’ll fix you girls up some oatmeal.” I squeeze Nana’s shoulder before walking away.
“Bacon time.” Whit’s head pops up.
“Whit, oatmeal.”
“Momma, I hate that stuff.”
We go back and forth for extended minutes. Whit has bartered a tutu and her favorite doll by this point for some crispy bacon.
“That’s it.” Nana slaps the table. “I’ve cooked a hot breakfast the last forty years of my life. I want bacon too, dammit, but I don’t want to cook it. Get dressed, ladies.”
I groan, smacking my face. Bed, blankets, and sleep are all I want. Zapping two bowls of oatmeal and sneaking back up to Nana’s bed for a few hours of sleep sounds more delicious than any breakfast food.
“Yes! Now you’re talking.” Whit leaps from Nana’s lap and races upstairs.
I send a playful glare to Nana. She shrugs.
“Let’s get out of here,” she says.
***
“Let me wipe some off, honey.” I reach towards Whit with a spare hoodie in our car.
“No, Mom.” She bats away my hand and slides out of her booster.
“She’s fine.” Nana waves me off.
The two trot into Gravy Dave’s hand in hand. Goddamn Avon. It was the first thing Whit got into today, and let me tell you, Nana has a room devoted to her love of Avon. They smell like two-bit whores even though Whit swore up and down she only put on two squirts of perfume. Who knows how old the damn bottle was? I put the brakes on at fire engine red lipstick. The blush and light eyeshadow were enough. I lost the battle when the both of them came out with lipstick on.
The sight of the two would be comical any other day, but I’m exhausted mentally and physically. The saving grace was Nana applied the lipstick, so it wasn’t smeared everywhere.
I soak in the moment of silence and peace in the car, dropping my forehead to the steering wheel. My heart throbs in pain along with my head. The tears don’t come. I don’t have time for them. It’s my turn to be the strong one. It would be so easy to let my eyes flutter close and drift off into sleep, even with the harsh steering wheel pressing into my skin.
***
Jessie
“Summer camp starts in a week. We are keeping the same schedule as last year?” Brady asks, thumping the tabletop with his fingers.
“Yeah.” I jerk my chin.
“We have more freshmen this year. Eli said there’s a handful that will easily be able to play varsity,” he continues.
I nod, staring out the window, fucking haunted from last night. Always knew it was inevitable for Jules to roll back into town. Been hoping for quite some time that it would’ve been by now. Getting injured and being sent home from the big leagues was a bitch slap, a cold, harsh one I needed. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t regretted my words to Jules. There ain’t one excuse I can come up with. I was a cocky, arrogant asshole who let the promise of money and fame get to me.
The moment I signed with Michigan, I changed. Hell, I’d always been the hometown’s favorite on and off the field, but with that extra notch in my belt, it ruined me. It didn’t matter that when I won the first state title, Jules was by my side, and it was her I wanted to hug first. We were best friends since we could walk. I fell in love with her in sixth grade. She was my everything. That is until the ugly monster of greed struck me dumb.
Her voice speaking the words that had the power to threaten everything still haunts my dreams. I reacted. I didn’t think it through or even act rationally. I destroyed us. I obliterated a piece of myself that night. I’ve never been the same.
A diminished bit of ash sparked back to life when that little girl came bouncing up to me. Her wild brown curls and sassy personality struck a chord. Knew it the moment I saw her she was mine. She’s Jules’ mini-me, but her eyes are mine.
Stayed up all damn night last night wondering how in the hell I’m just finding out I have a daughter. Yeah, Jules hasn’t been back to town sin
ce high school graduation, but her grandparents have been here the whole time. Hell, been working real close with Jack the last year. Jane invited me over for weekly Sunday dinners along with my parents. They’ve attended every home football game, rooting on the local high school.
It fucking baffles me, leaving only one option, and that’s Jules never wanted to talk to me again. I told her to take care of it, and she did. I grimace at the memory. It’s not what I had in mind. And that makes me a fucking monster after meeting Whit. My girl.
“Jessie, what the hell is going on?” Brady slaps the table.
I look over to him, realizing I’m rubbing out an ache in my chest. I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” Brady leans forward. “We’re heading into a season coming off our third state title, and your head is long fucking gone. Was it the proposal last night?”
That question sends a bucket of ice-cold water over my spine. My life is so fucked up right now I don’t know where to begin analyzing it to dig myself out of this endless hole.
The bell above the restaurant’s door shrills, gaining everyone’s attention. The one person who can shed light in my life right now prances in, hand in hand with her grandma. The little spitfire shines in her zebra leggings, neon orange tutu, sparkly shirt, and ballet flats. She twirls around in a circle, holding the tip of Jane’s finger. When she stops, I see the make-up covering her face.
It makes me smile. She obviously got into Jane’s Avon stash. Everyone nods and greets Jane. She introduces Whit with pride. You can see the questions on everyone’s faces. It’s enough the town just lost one of their heroes. I’m thankful no one dares ask about Whit. It’s a shock, and I’ll beat down any asshole who opens their mouth.
I look back to the window, peering out to the street. That’s when I see Jules slumped over, her head pressed into the steering wheel in her fancy car. I’ve done this to her. She left town because of me. Missed out on years with her grandpa all because of me. The guilt is too much. It’s enough to make me want to quit living.
“Jessie!”
I swivel my attention over to Whit, who’s bounding toward me. She scrambles up into the booth and perches on her knees.
“What are you doing here?” She wrinkles her button nose, pointing at me.
A chuckle escapes me. “Well, I’m eating breakfast. What are you doing here?”
She plops a hand on her hip.
“It’s bacon time, duh!” She settles in the booth next to me, her feet dangling and kicking with her elbows perched on the tabletop. “Momma wanted to force me to eat oatmeal. Gag. Nana busted us out of there.”
Brady bottlenecks his gaze between the both of us, easily putting the large-size puzzle pieces together. He was my best friend in high school, well, besides Jules. It was always the three of us, plus Brady’s nemesis, Tessi, riding together in my truck, attending parties, and causing chaos. He’s asked over the years about Jules. Hell, did everything to pry something from me. I never gave him a morsel.
“Oatmeal ain’t bad.” I shrug.
“Jessie.” Whit pats my shoulder, getting my attention even though I’m already staring down at her. “Is there a dance studio here? I’ve got to dance. I danced four times a week in California. I’ll die if I don’t.”
“Yeah, there’s one.”
She hops back up on her knees. Damn, the kid doesn’t sit still. She helps herself to a piece of bacon on my plate. I don’t miss the fact she drags it through the maple syrup. It’s the only way to eat it in my opinion. It always grossed Jules out. Whit chomps down on the end of it while a drizzle of syrup drips down her front.
“Will you take me? Momma is stressed out. It’s constipated.” She shrugs. “Nana is sad, and you’re the only other person I know.”
I bite down on my bottom lip at her substitution for “complicated.” It makes me wonder how much she knows about the situation. The words she uses and the way she rattles on lets me know this girl, my girl, is damn smart.
The bell rattles once more. Whit whips her head in the direction of the door. Her curls fly everywhere. I spot a hair tie hanging loosely on the end and the syrup-covered bacon tangling in the mess.
“Momma.” Whit flags down Jules with what’s left of my bacon. “Over here.”
Jules smiles at the sound of her daughter’s voice. It falls as quickly as it appeared when we make eye contact. She tightens her jaw and stiffens her shoulders. It takes her long moments before she walks over to us.
“Where’s Nana?” she asks in a controlled voice.
“Over there talking to friends.” The bacon is wielded once again. “Momma, Jessie said he’s taking me to dance classes.”
Oh, fuck! I clear my throat. I don’t have the chance to comment before Jules ushers Whit out of the booth.
“C’mon, let’s go join Nana. Tell Jessie bye.” Jules adjusts Whit’s tutu.
“Bye, Jessie.” A toothy grin flashes at me.
“See ya, Whit.” I can’t help the smile that covers my face. That girl makes everything better.
Jules spins on her heels. I’m up and on my feet before I can think. I grab her upper arm, urging her to turn around. She doesn’t. I lean in, pressing my chest to her back. We have the attention of the entire restaurant, which in small town language means this will spread to the next county by lunch. The scent of grapefruit and lilies hits me. Her smell. Her favorite perfume, Happy. She still wears it. Discovered it our junior year in high school and damned near bathed in the stuff.
“It’s not like that,” I whisper in her ear, not letting go of her arm. “She bounced into our booth and asked if there was a dance studio. I said yes, she stole a piece of my bacon, and that’s it.”
Jules nods, remaining frozen.
“She dipped it in syrup. We need to talk, Jules.” I let go and step back.
She whirls around. I take a second to soak her in. It’s not the right place or time, but I can’t help myself. Tight-ass black jeans hug her lean, tall legs, brown leather boots roam up to right below her kneecap, and a white tank top is all she has on top. Her nipples hard and poking through let me know I still do something to her whether she likes it or not.
“Stay away from us,” she seethes. “We have nothing to talk about.”
“Jules,” Brady belts from the booth. “How the hell have you been?”
Jules peers over at him and offers him a gentle smile, more than I got from her. Fuck no, I don’t deserve one, but doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt all the same.
“Good. Been better. Have a nice day.” She ends her sentence with a tight smile before walking away.
Brady slides out of the booth, pats my shoulder, and shakes his head. “That’s what has your head so fucked up. Makes sense. Congrats, Daddio.”
I tug my wallet out of the back of my jeans and toss two twenties on the table. “Keep your mouth shut about this. Jules doesn’t need any more stress. The death of her grandpa is enough.”
“Anyone that sees that little girl will know. It’s a small town. Better be prepared for hell, man.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I growl. “We need to get to thrashing hay.”
Chapter 4
Jules
“Go!” Nana pushes me out the front door. “We will be just fine.”
I dig my heels in. It’s been one hell of a long day. Yesterday morning was enough to piss me off for an entire year. Today was enough to drain the remaining energy from my body. Picking out caskets and headstones was hell at its finest. It was picking out Papa’s best suit for him to be buried in that did me in.
It was the moment I cracked wide open in the bottom of his closet surrounded by his lingering scent. Nana was wiped from the day’s events. I had stepped up and handled the rest of them. I cried myself to sleep wrapped in Papa’s flannel shirt until Whit woke me when she was up from her nap.
Tomorrow will be worse. I can’t even begin to process how when I’m at an all-time low today. I want to be there when he’s dressed. Papa
was damn particular about his tie and how his suit fit. It’s something he picked up from being in the U.S. Senate. His favorite town boots still need to be shined, and all I want to do is give up.
“Go!” Nana hollers one more time.
Tessi waves from the gate, jumping up and down and squealing. We ran into her today when leaving the funeral home on Main Street. She was ecstatic, over the moon to see me again. She had her two children with her and didn’t stop rattling on. I felt guilty as hell because all I wanted to do was hide.
Each step down the cracked sidewalk is massive. Everything weighs down on me. Whit went to bed early from all the excitement of the past few days. Any other night this happens, I’m either crawling in bed with her or writing. She hasn’t stopped asking when Jessie is picking her up for dance. Each time his name comes from her lips, I die on the inside. It’s inevitable. I’m going to have to share, and that’s something I’ve never prepared myself for.
“You look amazing, Jules!” Tessi squeals and wraps me up in a hug.
I step back, looking up and down at my outfit—short cut-offs, a black tank top, and strappy sandals. Nana tried over and over to get me to put some make-up on. I refused, tying my hair up in a messy bun.
“You do, too,” I reply.
It’s not a lie. Tessi still contains her youthful glow. Long blonde hair, banging body, and her smile. You’d never be able to tell she’s had two kids, Lenny and Jillian, who are three and one and a half, or at least that’s what I remember from earlier today. Hell, maybe it’s four and two, and their names are Lance and Jennifer.
“Let’s go.” She rounds the front of her monstrous, blacked-out Escalade.
I crawl in, exhausted and three seconds from busting out of the car. The leather seat swallows me whole. I throw my head back and close my eyes. I hear Tessi’s door slam and feel her hand on my thigh.
