“Damn how much pie did you eat?” I smiled.
“I don’t remember the astronomical number. All I cared about was it soothed. For the first time in a long time, it made me feel the teeniest bit of good.” Smile. “Yeah, she took my rolling pin away from me and put me on pie rations—one slice a day.”
“When am I going to taste one of these pies?”
“I don’t know… Maybe over a playdate with Jackson and Jacob? Maybe, or maybe when I open my bakery.”
“Too long. I’ll settle for the playdate.”
“No promises. We’ll see.”
“We will,” he says, confidently, as if he knows he’s going to get it. That’s the Landon I knew, strong and always sure of himself. “Is there something else you want to ask me, Lacey?”
“Maybe.” There sure is, but I don’t know if I should. I like the easy conversation. I don’t want it to be laced with the tension of before.
“If you ask, I’ll answer. I’ll always answer for you, Lace.” He reaches across, touching his fingertips to mine. Like before, it sets me at ease, and I ask.
“Bree. You’re happy?”
He looks down, and there are a few minutes of silence before he looks to me again. “Bree and I just happened.”
“Taking in a dog that shows up on your doorstep is the sort of thing that just happens, Landon. Not meeting a person, getting married, and having a baby.”
A peek of his tongue comes out, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “You’re right. But Bree and I are separated.”
Oh. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it. It’s none of my business, anyway. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I said you could ask me anything, and I’d answer. It’s fine.” He holds on to my hand when I try to lean back, looking into my eyes. “We try to make things work between us as Jackson’s parents, but other than that, no, we are not together. I met Bree at the lowest point in my life. I was aimless, angry at the world for everything that happened. I didn’t give a fuck about anything, and I was doing too much of everything.”
“Landon, we don’t need to talk about any of this. It’s your life; I was just curious.” I swallow, not certain what I should feel or think after hearing him tell me about his broken marriage.
“You wanted to know how I could move on so quickly with another woman and have a child just months younger than Jacob. You, out of anyone, have a right to the answers to your questions. If you were another person, I wouldn’t give a fuck. You’re not. You’re Lacey. Always the sixteen-year-old girl I fell in love with.”
Oh, God, I shouldn’t have asked. The way he says my name...he’s always been the boy I fell in love with. In truth, he stole my heart and never gave it back. I squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back. Every feeling we ever had is right here between us, but things are different now, and we can’t change them back.
“Bree and I hooked up. She got pregnant. Eventually, I saw Jackson as a turning point in my life. I could be a shitty dad, or I could straighten up and get help, be a father my kid could be proud of. That’s what I did. I married Bree to make sure my kid could have it all, and it gave me something to come home to at night. You know me and my commitments. I take them seriously. Marriage.” He shrugged. “Can’t get any more committed.”
“Maybe you guys will work things out,” I say softly, as if I know what I’m talking about.
“Bree is a great mother and a friend.”
“Like me. Look at our friendship, starting again.”
He gives me a faint smile, almost sad. “No. Not like you.” He sweeps his thumb over my hand, setting off those pesky flutters to the bottom of my stomach.
“Mom!”
“Dad! Come play with us. We’re playing teams.”
“Coming,” I say. Our hands come apart as we get up and go to Jacob’s room.
Four games and sixty minutes later, the boys win three games to the parents’ one. I help Jackson and Landon pack up Robin and their stuff in the truck. Landon walks me back to my door. Before I close it, Landon gives me a kiss on the cheek, taking me by surprise and sending my heart racing faster than Jacob’s race car video game.
“Thanks, Lacey.”
“For what?”
“For nothing and everything.”
With that, he slips back out the door, into his truck, with Jackson in the back. I watch him drive away with my heart in my throat and my hand on my cheek, understanding exactly what he means.
Then
If this is not our child...I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can stare at the genetic material of that piece of trash, knowing what he did to you, every day. Lace, I’m trying to do what’s best for you.”
“What if it is?”
“What if it isn’t? What then? I can’t touch you, but you want me near you. But I can’t—I wouldn’t tell you what to do if circumstances were different.”
“Then don’t. I don’t want to talk about this. Stop!”
“Not now, not yet. We have to.”
“No, get out.” She starts shaking and fidgeting, and it’s all I can do to hold it together. Letting out a harsh breath, I try to clear my lungs of the anger, doubt, and every uncertainty there is in this world.
It’s not working! It’s not working! But I sure as hell know what will.
Backing out of the room, I watch her rock back and forth on her bed with her tear-stained face. She reaches out for me, but I can’t. I can’t help her this way. I take another look at her, broken and wounded. Scars so brutal I’m not sure they can be repaired by words of love.
I leave, knowing exactly what I need to do, pushed by rage and hatred so great it knows no boundaries.
Forty-eight hours, later my heart is still shattered in a billion scattered pieces. Shards of what use to be a functioning organ, thriving and living for the love of her, still can’t be healed. Head in my hands, soaked in my misery, I watch her sleep, sitting at the foot of her bed in the exact same spot I was before I left. I want to cry for her, for everything we’ve lost. Even more for what I‘m about to do.
She stirs underneath the covers. I roughly swipe the back of my hand across my face. Wiping the evidence of my sorrow and shame away. “Hi, baby. How are you doing?”
She lurches up in a confused swirl of fear. I sit as still as I can be, and she relaxes as soon as she recognizes it’s only me. Sad but true. I stroke her hair, letting out a heavy sigh as she tentatively touches the bruises on my face. It’s the first time she’s touched me in a long time, and it’s out of concern and still, fear.
“What happened? Where were you?”
“It’s not important. I needed to take care of some things. Things are going to be okay.”
She moves her head from side to side. The sadness in her voice just about does me in, but I did it for her. “Oh, Landon, what did you do?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I did what was best for her, and I just hope she’ll forgive me one day for what I’m about to do. “We need to talk.”
“No, I don’t want to.”
I straighten up, place a kiss in the palm of her hand and brace myself for what I’m about to do.
“I have to go.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“When will you be back?”
I look at her face, still so beautiful, but hollow. A ghost of her former self, the former self I’m every bit still in love with.
She says, “You’re leaving me.” The free fall of her tears leads to the hole in my chest where a whole heart used to be.
“I don’t know if I can.” My voice so hoarse and strangled I’m in pain.
“Try, please.” She cries, holding on to my face. “Don’t leave, try.”
“What if I can’t, Lace? I’m only going to do more harm than good to you.” Her cries get louder as I try to block them out but fail. “I’m hurting you now. Don’t cry, baby.”
“How,” she pants trying to catch her breath from the tin
y sobs racking her body. “You’re taking my heart.”
“You need to make decisions for yourself, and this, baby, I can’t help you make it. I love you so fucking much, but I have to go. I have to let you go, for the both of us.”
In a fit of anger, she drops her hand from me, angrier than I’ve ever seen her before. “Then go! Get the hell out. You don’t love me!”
Hurt and wounded, like a hobbling animal cut off at the knees, I try to leave, but she’s holding on to me, big wet rivers of tears streaming down her face. I can’t stand it. I can’t do any more harm. “I have to go,” I say, trying to pull her hands away from my shirt as gently as I can without hurting her. I know the blow I’ve dealt her is much worse.
Her hands slip away, and with one last look I tell her the absolute truth for the last time, “Baby, I will never stop loving you.”
Closing the door on my past, future, and present, I slump down by her door, listening to her cry in pain. I want to destroy everything in my path, leaving it as barren as my scorched heart, for the pain I’ve inflicted that she doesn’t deserve.
I’m numb. So numb I only hear it. Her mother. “We have her.” And I go through my own emotional breakdown on the other side of the door that has separated me from hope, from life.
It’s been a few days since I was at Lacey’s. I’ve done nothing else but think about her. You know when you can’t get something out of your mind? It’s on constant repeat. All the good and the bad. But what stands out most is us. On the couch, talking like old times. It all came back naturally. She was my friend, and I was hers. I felt a stillness, a peace I haven’t felt in years. I can’t believe she’s back in my life. A second chance I couldn’t have dreamed of— that I didn’t believe would be possible. But here we are, and the fact she would even let me near her, to touch her...I’m thanking whoever is above me just for the chance.
“Hey.”
“Hi, Landon.”
I don’t know how, but I can hear the smile in her voice. Makes the nerves I had about calling her disappear.
What the hell? Am I twelve? I don’t remember the last time I was nervous at the thought of calling a girl. Yeah, she does that.
“I know we set a date for Saturday for the project. I wanted to say hi,” I tell her. “Is it okay I’m calling just to call?” I think it is, after hearing her voice. “If it’s not, I won’t.” I just feel I need her permission. I need her to know she’s holding all the cards. It’s all on her terms.
“You have permission to call me anytime you like.”
“Let’s not get crazy. You might be sorry you said that.”
She laughs. “I doubt that. Besides, you called at the perfect time. I wanted to talk to you about two things, my mother being one.”
“Okay, no good can come of that sentence.”
“Maybe my mother decided to make you an apple pie, and she’ll mail it to you.”
“She can send the apple pie, as long as she doesn’t show up at the door with it. On second thought, the apple didn't work out for anyone in the Garden of Eden, and it sure as hell didn't work out for Snow White. I'm good. But your mother can be scary when she wants to be.”
She laughs. “You weren’t scared of my mother. You stared her down a few times. Respectfully, though.”
“I was trying to win her over without looking like a punk. I wouldn’t be able to face Trigg if I punked out.”
“I didn’t get that impression from you.”
“Well, I can tell you, all guys want to win with their girl’s mother. We won’t admit it, but we sure do.”
“You didn’t have a thing to worry about. She preferred you to Trigg.”
“That’s not saying much, Lacey. Trigg was her antichrist.”
“You’re right, bad comparison. The first time she saw him through the window she saw horns emerging from his head, with a wicked tail swinging from the side in a curlicue.”
“Trigg has that effect on parents. Generally anyone in authority. The old Trigg. New Trigg has toned it down, even with all the ink. Can’t remember the last time he got a tat.”
“I noticed he’s changed.”
“Yeah. About your mother.” I change back the conversation, not wanting to spend my time with her talking about Trigg.
“She’s coming back earlier than expected. Someone in their group was hurt on the trip. She volunteered to accompany them back. Since she’s gone, I’ve taken off a lot of days and shifted around my schedule.”
“You’re giving me a heads-up? You’re abandoning me and the boys’ project, leaving me at the mercy of your mother?” I joke. I hope it’s a joke.
“Not at all. But I do need the money my regular schedule provides. I’m not totally abandoning you. She’ll fill in for me once or twice before the project is done. You should count yourself lucky. Usually, she does the majority of social gathering stuff when it comes to school. She even joined the PTA; she’s better at these things than I am.”
I wonder why? As much as I want to ask, I won’t. I want her to keep talking. Going into why she doesn’t attend school-related functions with her son might run her off the phone. The last thing I want is to stop talking to her. I want her to talk to me as long as I can keep her talking.
“No worries. I get it. What’s the next thing you had to tell me?”
“Shay.”
“Oh, God,” I groan. It’s worse than her mother.
“I promise, this one will be painless.”
I hope so. Shay isn’t my biggest fan. The last time I saw her, after the breakup, she warned me to stay the hell away from her sister. She told me I was the scum of the earth and she’d back over me a hundred times with her car if I got close to her again. Trust me, the way she got all up in my face, I believed her.
“Then lay it on me.”
“I haven’t told Jacob yet, because I don’t want to see his little face fall. It looks like Shay won’t be able to go to the monster truck rally. I would go, but I don’t want to take advantage of my boss’s generosity. I think my mother will be able to fill in for her. If not, you and Jackson can still have the tickets to go.”
I’m willing to put off meeting her mother for as long as I can. Two hours with her mother, with no buffers but the boys, who won’t be paying us any attention, underneath her glare? I don’t want it. Not taking the chance. And why should Jacob lose the chance to attend something I know he wants to attend so much? That wouldn’t be fair.
“You know I’m a fairly responsible adult. I can handle taking two boys to a monster truck rally. I was built for this stuff. No need to put your mother out with the mud and the noise. Loud, boisterous guys, no place for a church-going, God-fearing woman like your mother. Why would you want to do this to the boys and her?”
“And you.”
“Exactly! Come on, have some faith in me, Lacey. I’ll take ‘em.” I know the real reason Jacob would be missing out if he’s not accompanied by Shay or her mother. I can tell they’ve become a tightly packed unit, protecting Lacey and Jacob.
“You’re asking for a lot, Landon.”
“I know.” I do know. “I’ll take care of him. I'll take care of him exactly the same as I do Jackson. Absolutely not an ounce of difference. I swear.”
“Okay,” she says, a hitch in her voice.
“Don’t do that, Lace.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t worry. I let you down once before, but never again. You’re both safe with me.”
“It’s hard to stop when you’ve spent so much time doing exactly that. He means everything to me.”
“I know he does. He’s a great kid. I can see why Jackson is stuck to him like glue.”
“Thank you.”
“No. Thank you.”
I’m a fucking mess, mud all over my boots and jeans.
Not the way I wanted to meet her again for the first time. Wasn’t expecting her face at the door, but I’m not surprised by the stern look she’s throwing my way. She hasn’t changed mu
ch—still rocking the I will cut you if you even try to corrupt my daughter look, with a smile.
“Good evening, Mrs. McQueen.” I greet her with my most respectful tone and a smile.
She looks over my shoulder, where the boys are running around, pretending to crash into each other with high-pitched sound effects, before she says anything to me. “Hello, Landon.”
“The boys are hopped up on the fun of the monster trucks. You’re here, so I guess Lacey’s not back from work. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“I’m sure you weren’t.” She continues to stare at me.
I nod, pushing my hands in my pockets. It doesn’t get any more uncomfortable than this, does it? “Well—”
“Well, Lacey’s inside.” She cuts me off. “I’m down here often making sure she and my grandson are okay. I would invite you in, but it’s late.”
I chuckle at her not-so-subtle attempt to get rid of me. “Yes, it is, 7:30 at night.”
“My grandson needs his rest from all the excitement today. So does his mother.”
I’m not sure she has taken a decent breath or blinked since she answered the door. “I understand you perfectly, Mrs. McQueen.”
“Good. Lacey, dear,” she calls behind her.
I look away from her mother, and there she is, behind her, leaned up against the couch, watching the exchange between her mother and me. She gives me a smile as her shoulders shrug up. Yeah, I know. Her mother’s a cross between a hoverer and a rip-your-head-off mama bear. That hasn’t changed.
The boys rush in, and I grab Jackson before he gets too far past the door. I shake my head at him in silent rebuke for his lack of manners.
Jacob grabs his grandmother’s hand, giving her a short version of what they did. “Hi, Mom. Grandma, it was the best day ever, ever, ever, ever! The cars, the mud—it was awesome. Landon let us get anything we wanted. I ate cotton candy bigger than my body.”
“Oh, my word. Bigger than your body?” she says, eyes wide like saucers, looking at her grandson.
Cry For You_A Second Chance Romance Page 8
