“You’re probably right, it’s just we were barely starting to fix our relationship, and I worry that it will take the backseat again.”
“He does have a horrible track record,” Cheyenne threw in there.
Abby smacked her. “We’re supposed to be making her feel better, not worse.”
Right on cue, my favorite four-year-old ran in and suddenly I felt better. “Jessie, Jessie!” Isabelle said as she ran into my arms holding her doll.
I picked her up and snuggled her to me. “Hey, sweet girl.”
“I got to touch the kitties and they are so cute!”
“Really? Did you name them yet?”
“Yes,” she said disappointedly.
“What’s wrong?”
“Connor and Avery each got to name one and they’re dumb.”
I tried my best not to laugh at her pouty face. She did it oh, so well.
“So, what are their names?”
Connor and Avery walked in from the patio just as she began, and man, could that girl give a look that would wither most humans, but Connor and Avery seemed immune. She narrowed her little eyes and scrunched her nose like no one’s business. “Connor named his Ninja, and Avery named hers Whiskers, and mine is Cinderella.”
“Which is totally lame,” Connor said as he grabbed some chips I had set out for them.
“You’re lame, Connor!” Isabelle threw back at him.
“Please, can we pretend we love each other in public?” Abby asked.
“Technically this isn’t the public,” Connor sassed back.
“Go see if your dad needs you.” Abby glared and Connor shrank then retreated back to the patio. “I’ll be so happy when he isn’t a teenager anymore.”
“Well, at least you know when it comes down to it he loves you. I have one that didn’t come with any instructions or emotional attachment to me.”
“Give her some time. She’ll have no choice but to be taken in by you. Doesn’t she know everyone loves Jessie, the town sweetheart?”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to fly with her, Cheyenne. And I’m not the town sweetheart, or loved by all.”
Isabelle threw her arms around my neck and squeezed me extra tight. “I love you, Jessie.”
I squeezed her back equally hard. “I know, and I love you, too.” I set her back down so she could bug Avery.
“Well, Veronica doesn’t count, she’s a psycho.”
“Cheyenne, we have little ears here,” Abby warned.
“Who cares?” Cheyenne looked the girl’s way. “Avery and Isabelle, stay away from Veronica Riley, she’s nuts.”
Abby and I both laughed.
The men walked in with food in hand. I was almost jealous as Shane kissed Abby on his way by her. I didn’t really want much, just a husband who was present and someone to kiss.
Dinner was a boisterous affair, but I liked it that way. Our house was always too quiet; even with Maddie there it still seemed on the silent side of the spectrum.
“So I talked to Paul yesterday and I assured him we would be crushing him on Tuesday,” I said to Shane as we ate.
“If we don’t beat them I won’t be able to show my face in public out of embarrassment,” he replied.
“As long as we beat Riley’s team at the end of the month. That’s the one I care about.”
“They’re going down this year,” Kent said as he ogled Cheyenne. I was sure their relationship was purely physical. I think he was just as much a player as Cheyenne.
“Music to my ears.”
That phrase summed up my evening. I loved the laughter and kidding that took place amongst my friends, and even the arguing among Abby’s kids. I tried my best not to think about Blake, but he always seemed to be in the forefront of my mind. Was he really so clueless about how his actions affected me and our relationship?
Chapter Eighteen
I went to bed in a quiet, empty house on Saturday and woke up Sunday to the noise of someone rattling about. I threw on my robe and went to investigate. I found Blake fully ready in his biking gear, packing up two backpacks in the great room.
“Good morning,” I said to him.
“I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“I needed to be up anyway,” I said as I made my way to the kitchen to set out the cinnamon roll dough I had made the previous night, just like I did most Saturday evenings.
“I’m taking Maddie out to Shelf Lake trail today.”
“It’s still pretty cold up there this time of year,” I commented.
“We’ll be fine, I got her some lined gear.”
“Well, you know best. I’m going to get in the shower. I guess I’ll see you … sometime.”
He looked up from his task and stopped to really look at me. “We aren’t leaving for a while. Madeline is still sleeping.”
He looked happier than I had ever seen him. It was like he had come alive after a long slumber. It pierced my heart.
I didn’t respond, instead I hightailed it back to my room before any show of emotion leaked out of my eyes. I entered my room and quickly locked the door, and locked my bathroom door, too. I wanted to be alone, which was ironic because that was part of my problem, I felt alone too often.
I soaked in my tub and cried. I was sure I was overreacting, but I felt hurt. I had opened myself back up to him and was trying to do everything my therapist said I should. I was even trying my best to welcome Maddie. I was doing my best to stay in the ship and not look back, like Margaret Mackenzie. Blake was supposed to be a life preserver, not the reason I needed one or my reason for abandoning ship.
I stayed in the tub until I pruned. I had to compensate with serious amounts of argan oil, but it was good for my mental health. I didn’t dress for the day, but did my hair and makeup. I still had cinnamon rolls to make and it was a messy endeavor. I threw on a t-shirt and some shorts for the interim. I would change into my dress before I headed to church.
I walked out to find I was alone. Shocker.
I had hoped to talk Blake into coming with me. I thought it would be nice for all of us to go. I really wanted Maddie to get to know some of the kids here, since this was going to be her home. But I knew that was out of the question now. I guess she would meet some kids tomorrow at school.
At least I had thought I was alone as I worked on getting my rolls ready for my Sunday school kids. I had just finished preparing the last dozen and popped them in the oven when I turned around to find Maddie sitting at the breakfast bar.
I grabbed my heart. “I didn’t know you were here.”
She looked like she had just gotten up. Her blond hair was every which way, and I could still see the groggy look in her eyes.
“Are you hungry?”
She nodded her head.
“How does a cinnamon roll sound?”
Her pretty eyes lit up and then just as quickly faded. “My dad says I should eat healthier.”
“Oh. Well, in that case we have some bran cereal, or I could make you a green smoothie.”
She swallowed hard. “Well, maybe one cinnamon roll would be okay?”
I smiled and got my spatula out and placed one perfectly shaped, warm roll on a plate for her. I drizzled some homemade icing on it before I handed it to her with a fork.
She immediately dug in. I watched her eyes widen with delight. “Mmmm.”
“Maybe not healthy, but good.”
“This is way better than that green stuff.”
“I agree.”
Blake walked in from the mud room. “Good, you’re up,” he said to Maddie.
“Have you eaten these, Dad? They are so yummy!”
Blake looked at me, but I couldn’t read his eyes. I wasn’t sure if he was disappointed because I gave her something “unhealthy,” or if he was trying to avoid answering her, because the answer was no. She didn’t seem to mind that he didn’t answer, she just kept chowing down on her cinnamon roll. I was at least grateful to have someone in the house that appreciated my food
.
I checked the timer on the oven and had fifteen minutes until my last batch came out. Just enough time to slip into my dress.
“You guys have a good day. I’ll see you later,” I said as I walked back to my room.
“Bye, Jessie,” Maddie said with a full mouth.
Blake surprisingly met me at my door. He reached out and took my hand and pulled me to him. He didn’t say anything, but reached up and brushed my cheek with his hand. I loved when he looked at me like we were all that existed in that moment. It always made my heart skip a beat. He leaned down and rested his forehead against my own. “You locked the door this morning,” he said quietly, for my ears only. “How am I supposed to see you in your towel?”
“Maybe I didn’t want you to.”
He raised his head and his narrowed eyes met mine. “What’s wrong?”
“You should have been here last night.”
He shook his head. “You said you didn’t mind that I took Maddie to the game.”
“I’m not sure how you got that impression.”
“If you wanted us to come home you should have said something.”
“You didn’t give me the chance.”
“Jessica.”
I waited for an excuse or at the very least an explanation, but all he did was stare at me with uncertainty in his eyes. After a few seconds he leaned in again and whispered, “Sorry,” in my ear. “I still would have liked to see you in your towel this morning.”
I found myself smiling at my idiot husband. “What if I wasn’t wearing one?”
“Even better.”
I rolled my eyes before his lips covered my own gently. His lips glided across my own. I was feeling pretty good about him, but then the moment was lost.
“Dad.”
Blake released me and stood up straight. “Yeah, Madeline.”
“When are we leaving?”
“As soon as you’re ready.”
I waved goodbye to Blake and slipped into my room. I stood against my door and held my beating heart. I had no idea what I was going to do with my husband. My body said I know what we can do, but my mind said I don’t think so. Maybe someday they would get in sync.
The church parking lot was full. Almost everyone in this town came out to church. Ours was one of those towns that was frozen in a distant time where most businesses, including mine, were closed on Sunday. I had to promise my mom I wouldn’t change that when I took over. Sundays were sacred family time to her. I always thought they would be for me too, but it was one more thing Blake and I were never in sync with. I thought after we had children that maybe he would come around to my Sunday traditions, but that was never going to happen. Now he had Maddie, and he obviously wanted her to follow in his ways.
After I stashed my pans of cinnamon rolls, I found my parents in the same pew where we had been sitting for over thirty years. They both smiled up at me as I slid in and sat on the other side of my dad. My dad wasted no time and put his arm around me; his other arm was already around my mom.
“You look beautiful, Belle,” my dad said as I settled next to him.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“I thought perhaps Blake and Maddie would have come with you this morning,” my mom said.
“You know Blake.”
“I thought maybe he would have changed his mind, considering.”
“I don’t see that happening.”
My dad pulled me toward him. “He’s a fool, then.”
“Davis,” my mother warned.
“What, Gloria? He should know by now how important this is to her. Any man worth his salt would choose to be with his wife.”
For once my mother didn’t disagree or take Blake’s side.
I leaned over and looked at her thoughtfully.
She reached over and squeezed my hand. It made me feel comfortable enough to say, “Blake and Maddie are kind of in their own world right now.”
My dad shook his head in disgust.
“Try not to take it personally, honey,” my mom said with disappointment. Not aimed at me, of course.
“I’m trying.”
“You shouldn’t have to try,” my dad said.
“Let’s talk about this later,” my mom said, even though we were always early and there wasn’t anyone around us yet.
I sat there quietly and listened to the organ music and thought that maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. My dad already had less-than-stellar feelings toward my husband. I wanted that to change, but I wasn’t sure how that would ever happen.
The Whitneys sat in front of us. Now there was a family with a tragic story. They had two beautiful twin daughters, Rachel and Sydney, who were about eight years younger than me. Sydney was the epitome of a wild child. She gave her parents a lot of grief, and then six or so years ago she died in childbirth. Her family was devastated, but Rachel adopted the baby boy at twenty-two and raised him as her own.
I don’t know if Rachel ever knew, but her parents, Douglas and Claire, had approached Blake and me about adopting the baby once they found out Sydney was pregnant, which was very late into her pregnancy. I was excited about the prospect, but at that point Blake still had hope that we would have one of our own and shot down the idea. It didn’t matter anyway—it was Sydney’s dying wish that Rachel raise him.
I looked at Drew Whitney with his unusual amber-colored eyes and golden brown hair. He was a handsome little guy. No one, including the Whitneys, knew who his father was. He did have some of Rachel’s traits, or I guess Sydney’s, but since they were identical twins it was one and the same. Except I had always thought he had Rachel’s countenance, this confident, I’m-comfortable-with-myself way about him.
I watched her sitting there, so poised with her raven hair and violet eyes. She was a knockout, but no men need apply. She was a mother first and foremost. Drew was her life.
Speaking of Drew, he turned around. “My mom signed me up for football.”
I looked at Rachel, who looked apprehensive about it.
“That sounds like fun.”
“Yeah, doesn’t it?” Rachel said sarcastically. “It could be worse though, it could have been baseball.”
I laughed at her. We all knew her distaste for the game. We tried convincing her that Whitney Insurance should sponsor a baseball team, but she wouldn’t hear of it.
“So I hear you have a new addition to your family.”
“Hasn’t everyone?”
She nodded knowingly. She knew how the grapevine worked in this town. “How’s it going with her? Madeline, right?”
“It’s Maddie, unless you’re Blake, and it’s ... going. I’ll need to come by this week and add her to our health insurance policy.”
“Of course, I’ll make sure we get that ready for you. I’ll need her social, birth certificate, and any documentation that proves you are her guardians.”
“I’ll have Blake get that together.”
“This must be a big change for you.”
“Colossal,” I responded.
“Well, hang in there.”
It was all I could do. I guess I could still jump ship, but I had promised myself and Blake that I would stick it out, but my dad was right—Blake needed to step up his game, and I wasn’t talking about baseball.
Surprisingly, Easton showed up with Emmy. They sat in the pew across from us. I waved at them both. Emmy shyly waved at me before turning into her dad. Easton grinned and pulled his daughter to him before sitting down. I hadn’t seen him at church in ages. Life’s curveballs make us all do different things. I remember a time when they used to make me turn to God, too. Now I only came out of habit, and because I didn’t want to disappoint my parents. And partly because I really did want to believe that God existed, that he really cared about me and that my son still existed.
My least favorite couple showed up next. Of course they couldn’t miss an opportunity to come and talk to my family, and, unfortunately, add fuel to my dad’s fire of dislike about my husband. Fir
st up was the wicked witch. She placed her hand across her heart like she was some Southern belle, and I swear there was even a little twang in her irritating voice. “You’ve been in our thoughts, Jessie. I can’t imagine how hard this has been on you.”
Was it okay to swear in church? Because I really, really wanted to. I would even limit it to the words used in the Bible; hell and damn would suffice, really, they would. At least my mother could see through Veronica’s fake concern, and accent. “Jessie is doing marvelously and we all love Maddie,” my mother answered for me. I took the path of “if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” It was a good route, since my mind was moving way past the biblical.
Veronica produced the most disingenuous smile in all mankind. “We are so happy to hear that.”
I gave her a close-lipped smile and told her to go to hell with my eyes. Then Landon locked eyes with me. “It’s a shame your whole family isn’t here, Jessie. We’re all anxious to meet your new addition.”
I could see my dad’s face redden. It was the exact sore spot that didn’t need to be hit this morning.
“I’m sure you are, but Blake is trying to spend some quality time with his daughter.”
“Well, I can’t think of a better place than the Lord’s house to do that. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Ryan?”
“Completely,” my dad responded.
Landon, the creep, winked at me. He knew exactly what he was doing. Thank goodness for my mother. “Well you better grab a seat, the service is about to start.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Landon said sickly sweet.
I hated him.
I folded my hands and let them fall in my lap. I looked down and willed myself not to cry. My mother reached over and touched my hand. “Don’t let anyone make you feel inferior or steal your happiness,” she whispered.
“Well, maybe if her husband ever showed up,” my dad said quietly.
“Going to church doesn’t make you a good person, Davis.”
“Only a good husband,” he countered.
“Could we please not talk about it?” I interjected.
They didn’t respond verbally, but my dad squeezed me tighter around the shoulder and my mom gripped my hands more firmly.
Jessie Belle: The Women of Merryton - Book One Page 19
