by J. L. Berg
Today wasn’t about me.
Silently, I headed out the door and drove the familiar route I’d come to memorize recently. Over the years, I’d worn a path between our houses, and now, it seemed I was doing the same as I drove through the familiar neighborhood each and every Sunday.
Sundays were the unofficial day for families. Dads would fire up the grills while teenagers emerged from their slumbering caves to spend a few hours with their parents. Kids would play in the yards as mothers read while lounging in the sun. Sundays were for spending time with the ones you loved.
Today, I was spending the afternoon with the woman who had been my only family for years.
She was the one woman who had loved me when no one else had.
~Jackson~
I walked through the gate and already felt uneasy.
I hated cemeteries.
They creeped me the fuck out, especially this one.
My nana loved American history. It was the reason she’d refused to move into a retirement home even though the doctors and the entire family begged her to reconsider.
That house had been her life.
It had been a cockroach or two away from being condemned, and every realtor this side of the James River had told my grandparents that they were crazy to even consider buying it, but they hadn’t listened. Nana and my granddad had spent every cent they had to buy it, and they’d built it up from the heap of rubble it had formerly been.
“It’s history, Jackson,” Nana had explained. “And all history needs to be preserved and cherished.”
And they had done just that. They did most of the repairs before I was born, but never seemed to stop working on the endless list of repairs and projects the house required. With their love and time, the formerly forgotten piece of history was restored to its former glory. I had spent many summers in that house—polishing banisters and mantels, cleaning out closets that had been long forgotten, and discovering treasures in the attic that hadn’t been seen by human eyes for decades.
Her love for history was the reason they’d chosen to be buried in this particular plot of land. It was the oldest cemetery in Richmond, and therefore, in my opinion, it was also the most disturbing.
It was juvenile, but I couldn’t help the shudder going through me as I walked along the curved pathway, dreading the moment I’d have to step off it to get to Nana’s and Granddad’s graves.
I hated stepping off the pathway.
I looked around, noticing the perfectly arranged flowers on the headstones, and suddenly, I felt like an ass.
Here I was, at my grandparents’ gravesites, and I was so focused on everything else, I hadn’t even taken a moment to consider the real reason I was actually here—and the fact that I hadn’t been here since the funeral.
I should have come sooner.
I should have sent flowers.
I should have visited them more before they’d died.
I should have done a lot of things.
I took a deep breath and stepped off the path onto the grassy earth. As I made my way to the fourth headstone down the row in front of me, I wondered how much regret was felt within the gates of this place.
How many people walked these pathways, knelt in front of these stones, and wished for one more day, one more hour, just to make things different or right?
In life, there really wasn’t such a thing as a second chance. Life remembered, and it would move on. All you could do was move on with it and hope for the best.
As I approached the matching headstones, I immediately saw the small clusters of flowers scattered around the base of the granite.
Tons of them, white lilies and purple lilacs, were beautifully cradled between the two stones. Some were showing age while others were new and bright.
Who would do such a thing?
I looked down at my empty hands and felt like a failure.
“You can have these,” a small voice said.
I turned to see Liv quietly standing behind me, carrying two bouquets of flowers. One was white lilies, and the other was purple lilacs.
“It was you?” I motioned to the flowers at the foot of the headstones.
She nodded, stepping forward. She handed me the lilacs, and we both knelt down together, setting the bouquets side by side in front of the others.
“I come here every Sunday,” she said.
“Why?” I asked, completely stunned by her admission.
“I told you, she was special to me.”
“I guess I didn’t realize how special.”
Looking down, my gaze settled on the engraving, Etta Reid—Beloved wife and mother. Loving grandmother and friend.
“I should have visited more. I should have been here,” I said softly, settling down onto the grass in front of the granite stone.
“She knew you loved her. She always talked about her Jax,” Liv said, giving a wistful smile.
“She’s the only one I ever let call me that.”
“Really? Why? I kind of like it. It’s mysterious.”
I shrugged. “Sounds like I belong in a motorcycle gang.”
She laughed and gave a wink. “Exactly.”
We got up and said our good-byes to Nana and Granddad. I stepped back, allowing Liv a moment alone with Nana, and I waited.
She touched the top of the stone and smiled before saying, “See you next week, Etta.”
We walked back to the pathway in silence before I decided to lighten the mood.
“Did she ever bake those cookies for you?”
“The ones with the dried cherries and toffee pieces?”
I nodded, grinning.
“Yeah, she did,” she answered. “They were like an orgasm in a baked good.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “They’re damn good, but if that is your comparison to an orgasm, you’ve been with all the wrong men.”
“And just who is the right man? You?” A wicked smirk spread across her face.
Reaching the entrance, I stepped in front of her, causing her cool confidence to falter slightly. Inching forward, I breathed her in, nearly molding our bodies together. I could feel her breath against my neck.
“Babe, a night with me would be better than all the fucking cookies in the world.”
Her eyes widened, and I watched her lips part and her chest rise.
Perfect. Be flustered, Liv. You fluster me constantly.
My mouth curved upward, forming a large grin, just as I abruptly turned around. “Sorry, but I’ve got to get home. I have quite a mess to clean up. Someone TP’d our house last night. You wouldn’t know anything about that, Liv, would you?”
Looking over my shoulder, I saw her collect her composure once again.
“No, I wouldn’t know anything about that.” She grinned.
“Hmm…of course not.”
Recognizing her little blue car next to mine, I unlocked my doors and waited for her to do the same. “You know, I’ll have to retaliate, right?”
Her eyes lit up before she slowly slipped on a pair of shiny black sunglasses. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”
~Liv~
My weekend finished much like it always did—dinner for one and a quiet night of reading. I might have been the only single one left in my small group of friends, but that didn’t mean I had the most exciting life either.
Despite my job and love for my friends, I was actually quite reclusive. I could flirt and mingle when the occasion demanded it, but most nights, I’d rather be home, curled up on the sofa or making something in the kitchen.
I’d spent every last dime I had left from my old life on this little piece of property. The money was a parting gift I’d tried to refuse from my parents when we were torn apart. The sizable sum could have paid to further my education for a PhD, but I had chosen stability instead.
It was the best decision of my life.
This house had allowed me to take the job downtown at the counseling center for a wage that I probably never would have been able t
o survive on otherwise. Not having to worry about a mortgage had given me the freedom to save my earnings and tuck it away until I was able to finally fulfill my own dream and go into business alone.
This house was more than a home to me. It was where I felt connected—to myself, my friends, and even my family and the life I’d once had.
After my quiet weekend ended, I fell back into the weekday pattern, rising early to exercise and then meet clients before they went to school. My hours were long and sometimes grueling, but I loved what I did. Children were always easy for me to connect with. Maybe it was my weird clothes or the bright tattoo on my back, but they always found me interesting and different, and I would use it to my advantage when counseling.
Every young boy who passed through my doors that week reminded me of Noah and the way his face had lit up like a Christmas tree when I invited him to play in the fun night of debauchery.
Days had passed since I last saw either of them. I knew Jackson had started his new job. I’d hear his car leaving around the same time as mine, and the other night, I’d caught a glimpse of him in a suit and tie.
I would be lying if I said he’d looked horrible.
The days had flown by, and it was now Thursday evening. After arriving home late from work again, I frantically raced around my room, trying to make myself presentable for my date with Victor.
I looked in the floor-length mirror and frowned at my dress choice.
Too frumpy.
Running back into my closet, I picked out a little black number and held it out in front of me. It was sexy, tight, and hugged my curves in all the right places.
A sly grin slowly spread across my face as I pictured Jackson taking it off.
What the hell?
Okay, that was going back in the closet.
Instead, I slipped on a summery dress that was slightly fitted, and I paired it with coral wedges. Just as I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup, the doorbell rang.
I looked at the clock on my nightstand. “Right on time, and I’m not late!”
After slipping on my jewelry, I hopped down the stairs, trying to focus on the fact that I was going on a date with Victor, not Jackson.
I opened the door, plastering a large happy smile on my face, and I came face-to-face with my handsome date—and Jackson.
Huh?
Both men smiled back at me as I stared blankly at them. I was so confused by the scene in front of me that I nearly reached up and scratched my head like one of those large gorillas in the zoo.
“Um…hi?” I finally said.
Maybe I also had the IQ of a gorilla as well.
“Olivia, so good to see you again,” Victor greeted in his smooth Brazilian accent. He stepped forward and touched his lips to my cheek, slowly and possessively. “I was just meeting your neighbor,” he added, giving Jackson a less than friendly look.
Jackson, seeming unfazed by the death stare, just smiled and turned toward me.
I ushered both men inside, not feeling the least bit uncomfortable.
Nope, not at all.
“Yes, I was tending to my flowers because I wouldn’t want anything to happen to them,” he said with a wink. “I saw this particular flower, and it reminded me of you, so I felt the need to come right over and give it to you. It is the neighborly thing to do after all.” His accent became thicker and sweeter as he spoke.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“So, where’s the flower?” Victor grumbled, looking around with annoyance clearly written across his face.
“Sorry?” Jackson asked, turning toward Victor.
“Where is the flower you just had to bring over?”
He brought up his empty hands and sighed. “Oh, I must have lost it along the way. What a damn shame. And I interrupted your date, too!”
I had no idea why he was here, but it really was quite adorable, seeing him ruffle Victor’s tail feathers so easily.
“Please don’t let me hold you up any further,” Jackson pressed.
He grabbed my purse off the kitchen counter and handed it to me. I felt his warm hand press into my back as he ushered us to the door. The heat zinged down my spine, sending shivers to my core.
“I’m sure you have places to be,” he insisted.
“Reservation,” Victor mumbled.
“Of course, of course. Hurry along!”
We all exited out the front door.
Jackson raised his hand in the air, waving good-bye. “Y’all have a good time, ya hear!”
What was that man up to?
~Jackson~
I ran through the front door after watching that douche bag’s car drive away with Liv tucked inside. “Noah! Quick, throw on some shoes! We’re running to the store!”
“What?” he replied from the top of the stairs, shoving his phone in his pocket.
“We’re going to the store! Quick!”
I made hurried motions with my hands as he rolled his powdery-blue eyes.
He finally trotted down the stairs. “Okay, okay! I didn’t realize groceries were such an emergency.”
“Oh, we aren’t getting groceries.” I grinned before grabbing my keys off the counter. “We’re getting our revenge.”
Ten minutes later, we were standing in front of the balloon aisle at the local party store.
“Why are we here exactly?” Noah asked, looking up at the rainbow of balloons spread out before us.
“This is called payback.” I picked up a pack of assorted balloons. There were one hundred and fifty to a pack, and that wouldn’t be nearly enough. I needed a basket, a really big basket.
“You’re using balloons?”
“Yep,” I answered. “And you’re helping. Don’t think I don’t know who helped them figure out the new latch I had installed.”
He gave me a sheepish look and grinned. “Are you mad?”
“No. You helped clean it up, and there are worse things you could be doing late at night besides hanging out with Liv.”
I ran to the front of the store and returned to the aisle with a large basket and began shoving bags of balloons into it.
“So, you don’t hate her?” he asked.
“No, I don’t. I thought I would, but she’s not that bad.”
“So, why the balloons?”
Thinking back, I remembered the overwhelming feeling of jealousy that had sparked through me when I saw another man walking up to Liv’s door this evening. He’d looked over at me and nodded, a smug grin spreading across his face, as he’d smoothed out his hair and straightened his shirt. Every muscle in my body had tightened as I’d wanted to leap over the fence and show him the way back to his car.
She wasn’t mine to claim, which meant I’d have to deal with the endless parade of men who came knocking at her door. But that hadn’t meant I couldn’t ruin this one’s evening a little.
“You’ll understand when you’re older.”
The sun had barely risen over the horizon when I heard a faint knocking coming from my front door. It increased in volume as I lay in bed, trying to figure out who would be crazy enough to visit at this ridiculous hour.
The night before suddenly flashed before my eyes, and I grinned.
Jumping out of bed, I didn’t bother with throwing on a T-shirt before racing down the stairs to answer my early morning visitor.
“Good morning, Liv,” I said after opening the door and serving her a megawatt smile.
She stood before me in tight spandex shorts that hugged her muscled trim thighs and accentuated the curves of her body. Her hot pink sports bra nearly had me coming unglued as my eyes settled on the perfect little valley of cleavage between her breasts.
“I believe this is yours,” she said, holding a bright red balloon in her left hand.
I smiled, leaning languidly against the doorframe. “Hmm…looks familiar. Where did you find it?”
Her eyes roamed up my bare chest before she thrust the balloon at my head. “You know exactly where I found i
t, asshat! In my house—along with its five hundred brothers and sisters!”
“Actually, it’s eight hundred and forty-three. We counted—for fun,” I added.
I saw a grin tugging at her bottom lip before she tried to straighten it.
“How the hell did you get into my house?”
“Well, I was the last one out,” I stated, playfully waggling my eyebrows at her.
Her eyes widened. “That whole charade with you coming over was just so you could get into my house later?”
“Well, that, and I got to see you in your pretty dress,” I said with a wink.
She shook her head. “You’re impossible. And you roped your son into breaking and entering? Terrible.”
“In your professional opinion, is that better or worse than teaching him how to vandalize a home?” I questioned.
Her face went blank. “That was totally different.”
I laughed. “Of course.”
We reached an impasse, and I could see her hesitating, her eyes darting around, as she tried to grasp for something else to say. I watched her beginning to form a word, and I knew she was about to leave, so I did the only thing I could think of. I stopped her.
“Hey, are you about to go for a run?” I asked, pointing down at her shorts and running shoes like an idiot.
I’m so smooth.
“Yep.”
“Mind if I join you?”
She looked me over once again, and I smiled.
“Just give me a minute to write a note for Noah and change?”
She nodded, and I motioned for her to come inside. I watched her take a seat in the same spot where she’d sat when she last visited. I briefly wondered what it had been like when she visited Nana.
Is that where she sat? What did they speak about over those long visits for so many years?
I should have been jealous of the woman who had spent so much time with my grandmother, but instead, I was grateful to her. I was thankful Nana had had someone like Liv around when I hadn’t been there.
When my world had been turned upside down with the news of Noah, I’d become driven and focused on one thing only—my child.
