by J. E. Parker
Twelve
Hope
I fidgeted in place as I stood in the center of Grandmama’s living room, my arms crossed over my chest. I felt out of place and alone. Surrounded by happy couples, laughing kids, and adoring grandparents spending time with their grandchildren, I was the oddball out.
Within seconds, loneliness crept in and an ache developed in the center of my chest. As much as I’d tried not to think about Evan, my mind wandered back to him. Even if he was a pain in the butt most of the time, my big guy was such a huge part of me I found it hard to function without him by my side.
And that was a huge problem. Especially since it seemed like Evan didn’t want to be by my side a lot of times. If I had a quarter for every time he’d given me the cold shoulder or brushed me off since Ryker’s death, I’d be able to buy a new car.
Pathetic, Hope, the voice in my head chided.You’re pathetic.
Carrying a squealing Lucca on his shoulders, Anthony came into the living room. “You alright, babydoll?” He asked, a concerned look on his face. “You look like you’re a heartbeat away from crying.”
I sighed. Like Hendrix, I liked Anthony. A lot.
Loyal, strong, and protective, he was the perfect match for Shelby.
“I’m fine.” To my amazement, my voice held steady. “I’m just—”
I snapped my mouth shut when the front door swung open. Even before he moved through the threshold, I knew it was Evan. I could tell by the way my heart sped up and the way the sleeping butterflies in my belly came to life.
When his handsome face came into view, I bit back a smile.
Don’t smile! The voice in my head snapped. He was a jerk the last time you talked to him.
Annoyed at myself, I tried to force a scowl.
I failed.
The truth was, I didn’t want to be happy to see Evan. In fact, mentally, I wanted nothing more than to kick him in the knee for being such a butt the night before. But emotionally it was different. While my brain screamed for me to smack him and maybe even sick Grandmama on him, my heart begged for me to run into his arms and hold him tight.
Stupid, wonky heart. You’re dumber than dog poop.
As Evan approached me, Anthony looked from him to me. “You going to be okay if I leave you with him?”
See? Protective.
“Yeah.” My voice was whisper quiet. “He’d never hurt me.”
“I’m not worried about him hurting you, babydoll,” Anthony replied. “I know he’d never do that. My only concern is you being comfortable. I can tell you’re having a rough morning.
I placed my hand on Anthony’s forearm. Evan’s eyes followed the movement. Then, they hardened. When his cheek twitched, and his pace quickened, I dropped my hand. “I’ll be fine, Tony.”
“Alright. I’ll be in the kitchen.” He stopped speaking and looked from the living room to the dining room. “That’s after I find my damn fiancée. I don’t know where the hell she went this time.”
I almost laughed.
Anthony was as bad as Evan. He never wanted his woman out of his sight.
Except, I’m not Evan’s woman.
“I’m right here,” Shelby said from the front door right as Evan came to a stop in front of me. She held up a white casserole dish in the air. “Just had to grab something from home for Grandmama.”
Anthony said nothing else before he left my side to join hers.
Shelby, however, paid him no mind.
Her sad eyes were locked on me for a few moments before bouncing to Evan.
I took a small step forward, intent on swooping around Evan so I could ask her if she was okay, but I was stopped short when the big guy wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled my chest into his rock hard belly.
All thoughts of Shelby and Anthony fled my mind.
“Evan”—my eyes met his—“what are you doing?”
He hardly ever touched me anymore. And when he did, it was never like this.
I wasn't sure what had gotten into him, but it left me all sorts of confused.
His arms shook around me. “Never leave me like that again, Hope.” His tone held no bite. “I woke up, and you weren’t there. You didn’t text me, and you didn’t leave a note.” He raised his hand and brushed a stray lock of hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. “I can’t…” His voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes.
Needing to soothe him I slid my arms around his neck and interlaced my fingers together behind his head. The move forced me onto my tiptoes, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was comforting him. I didn’t know what was going on, but it was clear that me leaving had bothered him more than I thought it would.
And why should you care? The witchy voice in my head asked.
I ignored the voice. “Look at me.” His eyes popped back open and locked on me. “I won’t leave you again. I thought”—I took a breath—“well, after last night I didn’t think you’d care.”
Tell him the truth.
“And to be honest, I didn’t want to talk to you. Not after you were so harsh.” He flinched. “I don’t deserve to be spoken to that way. I get you’re protective, but that gives you no right to speak to me as if I’m an idiot incapable of making my own decisions."
Moments of silence ticked by.
When he didn’t speak, I continued. “Seriously, Ev, I’m not the same little girl who used to pretend she was a fairy princess and was scared to death that dragons were lurking in the closet and under the bed.”
I laughed. “Remember how I made you and Ry pretend to be my knights in shining armor?” Untwining my fingers, I ran my thumbs across his sharp cheekbones. “I’m pretty sure Mama even bought y’all swords to make the whole thing more real.” Another laugh. “I was so spoiled.”
I expected Evan to chuckle or at least crack a smile.
He did neither.
Instead, he pressed his forehead to mine, and whispered, “To me, you’ll always be that little princess...” Tightening his hold on me, his lips found my skin. “… The same one who used to beg me to slay the monsters hiding in her closet and the trolls living under her bed.”
Mouth dry, palms sweaty, I dropped my hands to his shoulders where my fingers dug into his skin. “Evan—”
“Shhh, baby,” he interrupted me. “Don’t say anything.”
I leaned into him.
Both of our hearts pounded as Evan swayed me from side-to-side.
It’s just like the night on the roof.
“Hope, last night…” His voice was gruff, and his tone tortured as he whispered into my ear. "I’m sorry, little bit. I didn’t mean to talk to you like that but when I saw you out on that fire escape, I—”
I pressed a finger to his lips. It was my turn to interrupt him. “You don’t need to say it, I already know.” And I did. Evan may be snappy and harsh at times, but he never set out to hurt me. But like me, he was battling an internal war that was tearing him apart bit by bit. It made him act irrationally—like I did last night with Mama—and out of character at times.
But it didn’t change the way I felt about him.
Even messed up, Evan was still Evan.
He still was, and always would be, my big guy.
“Hey, lovebirds!” Grandmama’s booming voice rang out from the kitchen. “Get your rear ends in here. Breakfast is done!”
Evan’s arms tensed around me and I knew it was over.
The moment, however small it had been, was shattered.
Taking a step back, I wrapped my arms around my torso. “Evan…” My voice trailed off as I watched the warmness fade from his features. I could see his walls sliding back into place as an icy shield formed around his heart. “Please don’t...”
... leave me, I silently added. Not yet.
He took a step back. Nodding toward the entrance to the kitchen where Grandmama stood with her hands on her hips, he said, “Go sit down.” His voice was devoid of all emotion. “I’ll be in there in a minute, but I need to check
in with Chris first.”
Belly churning, I turned to walk away.
It looks like I’ve been dismissed.
Grandmama raised a brow. “Want me to whack him with one of my skillets? They’re cast iron and pack one hell of a punch. My late husband, may he rest in peace, could attest to that if he were here.” She winked, and a small smile tilted her lips heavenward. “Or I can always shoot him. Just say the word, itty bitty, and I’ll pump a load of buckshot into his behind.” She leaned to the side and looked at Evan. “Though, to maim a butt that nice would be a tragedy.”
My mouth fell open. “Grandmama!” I choked out, clutching my locket in my hand. I had to fight to keep from laughing. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
She waved a dismissive hand in my direction before rolling her eyes. “I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Shelby the first time I saw Anthony.” Her hands went back to her hips, and she leaned forward, closing the gap between us. “I may be old as dirt but I ain’t dead yet. I’ve still got a few miles left in me.”
With a belly busting laugh, she turned around and walked away.
Red-faced and choking back a bout of laughter, I followed behind her.
Breakfast at Grandmama’s — never a dull moment.
Thirteen
Hope
Grandmama’s kitchen was loud, the seats at the table nearly full.
I'd just picked up a plate of hash browns from the counter and started to make my way toward the table when an aged hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me mid-stride. My eyes met Grandmama’s . “Are you working the day shift this week?” She asked, a serious expression on her face.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Good.” She released my arm. “I’m planning on stopping by one day. Not sure which one yet though. I’ve gotta get my hair permed on Thursday so it’ll be after that.” She gave me a sharp look I knew meant business. “But when I do, me and you need to talk.” I opened my mouth to ask her what she wanted to talk about but she raised her hand, palm out, silencing me. “Uh-uh. We'll talk about it later this week.” Her tone was resolute, leaving no room for argument. “Though I’m warning you now”—she paused—“I’ve been plotting all week.”
Plotting?
“Yes, plotting,” she replied, reading my mind. “I love you and that big idiot standing on my front porch with every bit of my heart, but I am about ready to strangle you both.”
“What did I do?” I asked, placing the hash browns back down on the counter.
She dipped her head and looked at me over the rim of her glasses. “It’s not what you’ve done. It’s what you haven't done that’s the problem.” I was so lost. As usual. “How many years has Evan lived in Georgia?”
Trepidation set in when I realized where our conversation was headed.
“A little over three,” I replied as bile crept up the length of my esophagus.
Head her off, stop her in her tracks!
“But Grandmama, you don’t understand. Evan and I, our situation, it’s… complicated.”
She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. “Exactly what relationship are you referring to?” Her unrelenting stare bored into me, making me fidget on the spot. “Cause from where I’m sitting, I see no sort of thing. All I see is two stubborn people, too blind to see they belong together, playing house. And that isn’t a relationship.”
“Then what is it?” I snapped. Grandmama and Shelby weren’t the only ones who could get snippy when peed off. “We may not be dating, engaged, or married, but what we have is still something.”
Lies. Every word.
What Evan and I were? It meant nothing.
Not anymore.
Grandmama turned away from me and picked up a plate of bacon. “Sweetheart”—she coughed into the bend of her arm—“you may not have my blood running through your veins, but I love you just the same.” Her words did little to soothe my pain. “But, the truth of the matter is that the only relationship you and Evan have is one where he plays the part of a possessive caveman, and you play the part of a doormat.”
Her words hit me like an arrow to the heart.
I took a step back and pressed my back against the pantry door. “A doormat?” The hurt coursing through my body was clear in my voice. “Is that what you think of me?”
Before she could reply, I looked from her to everyone else pouring into the room and sitting down at the table.
Do they think I’m a doormat too?
Embarrassment danced beneath my skin at the thought.
“I’m not a doormat,” I whispered. “And I’m not weak.”
“No, baby, you’re not weak in the general sense.” My nerves settled a tad with her statement. “I’ve seen you handle things at that Shelter that would’ve broken most humans.”
Why do I feel like there is a but coming?
“But”—there it is!—“When it comes to Evan, you sure are.” She looked over her shoulder at me. “That isn’t necessarily a bad thing.” She used the hand not holding the plate to point at Maddie. "Look at Maddie and Shelby.” I did. “They are two of the strongest women you’ll ever meet, but they’re weak when it comes to their men.”
Then, she pointed at Keith, Maddie’s dad. “And Keith”—she blew out a breath—“before Maddie’s mom died he was the same way. Heck, he still is. That’s why he hasn’t dated or gotten married since Mel passed away. Anyway, what I’m saying is that it’s okay to be that way. Love does that to you. But it also makes you strong. And baby, the love you have for Evan isn’t making you strong. It’s making you a damn doormat.” Pointing out front, she continued, “That man is walking all over you, whether or not he means to, and I’ve had it. I’ve had it with him doing it, and I’ve had it with you accepting it.”
I didn’t know what to say—because she’s right—so I remained silent.
When I’d just about gotten up the courage to reply, Hendrix walked into the room holding a sleeping Melody in his arms. “It’s about frickin’ time,” Shelby said, standing from the table and walking to meet her brother. “Give me my niece, behemoth.”
Brows furrowed, Hendrix hesitated. He looked from his sister to his little girl, he replied, “She’s asleep."
Shelby rolled her eyes. “I won't wake her up. Now give her here.”
Hendrix’s face hardened. “Wake her up, and I may choke you.” He looked down at Melody again. “She needs her rest.”
Taking the baby from his arms, Shelby rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease. We both know you can’t take me so quit your shit talking.”
“Hey,” Grandmama snapped. “There is no damn cussing allowed in my house!”
Silence fell over the room as everyone stared at the crazy old woman walking towards the table, a plate of bacon in one hand, and a bowl of sausage gravy in the other. “Besides, if you wake the baby up, you’re gonna be dealing with me, not Hendrix. And we both know you won’t win against me.”
Ignoring Grandmama’s craziness, Shelby walked back around the table and sat down beside Anthony, who ran his knuckle down the side of Melody’s sweet face. “We need a little girl, Sunshine. I need a Principessa to spoil.” He looked up and raised his hand before wrapping a strand of Shelby’s hair around his finger. “Though I’ll happily take another son too.”
Oh God. Why am I watching this? I can’t handle it!
I took a step forward, intent on excusing myself but stopped short when Hendrix looked at Maddie, a serious expression on his face. “I want another one.”
Maddie, who was taking a sip of tea, almost choked. Her hands were shaking as she set the glass down. “You what?”
Hendrix sat down beside her. “I want another one.” His gaze bounced to Melody “I’ve been thinking. If we have another girl, we could name her Maci. If it’s a boy, we could name him Maddox."
Keith, who was sitting at the end of the table, nodded his head. “I like Maci.”
It was the final straw.
&n
bsp; Swamped with grief, it became hard to breathe.
I looked from my makeshift family seated around the table back to Evan standing on the front porch. As realization set in, my chest tightened, and my throat started to close.
I can’t breathe.
Can. Not. Breathe!
“Hope, baby,” Shelby jumped up from the table. “What’s the matter?”
The space surrounding me spun; the floor beneath my feet shifted.
What they have, I’ll never have.
If I keep going like this, I’ll never know what it's like to be a mother.
I’ll never know what it's like to hold my child in my arms.
Not if I keep chasing a man who pushes me away at every turn.
Feeling lightheaded, I latched onto the adrenaline flooding my system and ran toward the front door. My concrete laden feet pounded the hardwood floor, jolting every bone in my body.
Behind me, I heard Hendrix shout, “What the hell!”
“Hope!” Maddie called, no doubt chasing after me. “Wait!”
Instead of slowing down, I pushed myself harder.
Bolting across the living room, I increased my speed with every step I took.
Tears stung my eyes as I pushed through the front door and ran past Evan who was still standing on the porch. “Hope,” he shouted before falling into step behind me. “What’s wrong?” When I didn’t answer him, he grabbed my upper arms and spun me around to face him. “Answer me,” he demanded, his concern filled eyes meeting mine. “What’s wrong?”
Seeing his face, and knowing he’d never love me how I loved him, I let my emotions get the best of me. Acting out of character and unhinged, I raised my hand in the air and smacked him right across his beautiful face. Hard.
It was the first time I’d ever raised my hand to another person.
First time for everything I suppose.
When a red streak appeared across his cheek, I let the first tear fall. “What’s wrong with me?” I shouted, bending at the waist. Jabbing my pointer finger into his chest, I continued to holler, “Is you! You are what is wrong with me, Evan Morgan!” His eyes widened, registering his surprise. He probably thought I’d lost my gosh dang mind. “And I CAN’T do this anymore!”
