“I don’t want to see your face around here. Don’t come back.” My fist clenches tighter in his shirt shoving him back. He winces as his back slams against the wall with a bruising force that does nothing to calm me down.
I turn my back on this piece of filth contaminating my home, while I focus all my attention on my son. “Jackson, are you okay?” I make my voice calmer but I’m still uncontrollably terse with anger. Not at him, but at what I walked in on, and most of all, what he walked in on.
Tears are streaming down his face, and he shakes, trying to talk through his tears. “It’s Mom—he was hurting her.”
God, I’m livid with her. My anger rises when she bends down, holding his face. Her face, red and blotchy, streams with tears. “Baby, mommy’s fine. Okay? Look, I’m fine. Mr. Reynolds didn’t hurt me. Okay?” She nods her head.
He does it too, his lips trembling. “Okay,” he says in the tiniest voice.
“Good. Can you please, for me, go downstairs, and wait for daddy?” He nods his head again and looks to me. I nod my head tight-lipped touching his shoulder as he passes by.
When I’m sure he’s downstairs, and not able to easily hear, I let her have it. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
“I’m so sorry.” She covers her face, turning away from me.
Hell, no, she doesn’t get to hide. She’s going to face me. I spin her around, dropping my hand away from her like a scalding hot iron , afraid to keep my hands on her any longer, I plant them on my hips, so as not to shake what little sense out of her she has left.
“Sorry? Sorry isn’t going to fix what he saw before I got here. And I saw way too much!”
“I know, I know. I messed up!”
Is she joking? Spilled milk is messing up. What she did was traumatize our son. “God knows how long he’ll have to be in therapy for this. Probably his entire childhood. He thought his mother was being attacked when she was about to get her brains fucked out by our goddamn maintenance man. Instead of fixing the fucking heating and plumbing like I’m paying him for, he was fixing you.”
Her hands fling out at me furiously. “What do you expect me to do? You won’t touch me. How long has it been? How long?” She shakes her head, blonde hair flying around her face. “This is not my fault.”
“Then whose fault is it, Bree? Is it my fault for walking into my own house, not anticipating that you would be screwing another man?” My hand slams against my chest, angry and frustrated. “Is it my fault, Bree; is it?”
“Yes. When we got married I knew you didn’t love me, but I thought things would change.” She sniffs, wiping her nose and slumping down on the bed. “The first time we were together, you screamed out her name when you came. I thought, hey, he’s going to get over her eventually. But that day will never come. She is who you’ve always wanted.”
That breaks my anger at her a bit. I could never deny wanting Lacey. I won’t start now, insulting Bree’s intelligence to let her momentarily feel better. She deserves better. She always has. But how could I give her that, when I couldn’t do better myself? I feel fucking guilty and sad, because in a way, I’ve broken her. Not intentionally, but I did.
I slump down next to her on the bed, elbows resting on my knees, roughly running my fingers through my hair. “So, you were trying to hurt me?” She did. We are not together anymore, and if we weren’t headed for a divorce—which we absolutely are after today—the decision would be made.
She shrugs her shoulders, wiping away more tears, not looking my way. “I was lonely. I was thinking that the last time you touched me was a year ago. It has been so long since anyone really touched me and made me feel wanted. I miss you. I miss us. You weren’t perfect, but at least I had someone.” Her lips tremble as she roughly wipes her face with the back of her hand, her face turning red.
“This is all so fucked up.”
“It’s not my fault. You weren’t supposed to come back.”
She’s still on that, huh? It doesn’t matter whether I was supposed to come back or not.
“What are we going to tell him, Landon?”
“I’m not sure.” I look at her profile, head hanging down. “I’ll have a talk with him and try to make him understand, but he’s going to need to talk to you, and what are you going to tell him?” She says nothing. I put my hand on her shoulder as I get up to leave, and she covers my hand. The vibrations of her soft cries shake her shoulder, going straight to my heart.
What am I doing here? Why the hell would I come to her house like this? I don’t know if she’s home. I didn’t call or anything. I should go. I’ll talk to Trigg; that’ll be best. I’m going to look like a psycho stalker showing up at her house unannounced. Sighing deeply I grip the steering wheel and start my truck up. I take another look at the house, and her door flies open. Jacob runs out in front of her. I stop and get out the truck just in time to catch him as he launches himself into my arms. I smile at how happy he is to see me. It feels good, especially in contrast to the morning from hell I had.
“Hey, buddy.” I put him down, crouching to his eye level. “Sure am glad to see you. Is it safe to say you’re happy to see me, too?”
“You can come over anytime you want, Landon. When you’re around, we have so much fun. Right mama?” He turns his head up behind him, peering at his mother with an expectant smile.
“Of course. Landon and Jackson are welcome here anytime.”
“Good to know since I’ve already shown up uninvited.”
“Where’s Jackson?” Jacob asked looking at the back of my truck. “Is he sick or something?”
“Nah, he’s fine. He’s at baseball practice.”
“Oh, yeah. He’s lucky. He gets to play baseball. All I get is to go to church with mom and grandma every Sunday.” He pouts
“Mind your manners, young man.” Lacey scolds. “If your grandmother catches you talking like that she’ll start taking you to Wednesday Bible study with her and put you in the junior choir until you appreciate the Lord’s day more.”
“Oh, no! Please don’t tell her I said that. I promise, I’ll ‘preciate it more.”
“Deal.”
I dip my head down trying not to laugh. I remember those days when I was a kid. Every Sunday morning, I would fall asleep in Sunday school. My mama would threaten to box my ears if I didn’t start paying more attention. I wasn’t doing it on purpose; it just couldn’t be helped. Sister Andrew was as boring as watching paste dry. She strongly believed children should be seen and not heard. ‘Keep your mouth shut and listen; you’ll learn more’ was her motto. No wonder I raised so much hell in high school and broke more than a few commandments.
“Could you take me to a game to see Jackson play? He says it’s lots of fun.”
“Sure can, with your mother’s permission.”
Knowing what’s coming, Lacey cuts him off. “I won’t say no, but we’ll discuss it later. Say goodbye, go back in with grandma.”
Catching me a little off-guard, he wraps his arms around me, melting away some more of the anger I've been storing inside. “Thanks, Landon, you’re the best.”
“I think you’re pretty special too, Jacob,” I say hugging him back. He is. I know it has everything to do with Lacey and her family, and absolutely nothing to do with the other half of his genetic makeup.
Turning him by the arm, she hugs him to her and plants a kiss on his cheek. “I love you, baby. See you when I get home from work.”
“He groans, walking away saying, “Mom, I’m not a baby!”
“You’ll always be my baby!” she calls after him, watching him go in.
At the door, her mother waves to us. I wave back, feeling out of place when her mother gives me a long, hard look while closing the door. There is nothing like an overprotective mother. I understand; she has every right to be.
“What are you doing here? Did I forget a project meeting or something?”
“I’m sorry; I don’t know why I’m here. Let me let you go.”
“No.” She places a hand on my arm. “What’s wrong?”
“I shouldn’t be here; it was stupid of me to come.” I can’t look her in the face. I rub my forehead in frustration.
“Stop that,” she chides. “I have a few minutes; what’s up?”
I hesitate, momentarily distracted by her touch, how caring she sounds, and feeling stupid for bringing my marital problems to her door.
“You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. Talk to me.”
“I’m not sure I should be talking to you about this.”
“This newfound friendship of ours won’t work if you don’t talk to me. Whoever heard of friends without words? What would Words With Friends be without them? Come on.” She tilts her head, pushing me toward my truck. “Let’s get into your truck where there are no little and big ears and eyes to take it all in.”
I tell her the whole story. Her hand flies to her mouth halfway through. I’m sure she is holding her breath. When I get to the painful, embarrassing end, she’s almost speechless.
“I don’t know what to say. Sorry seems appropriate, but not...” Her mouth opens and closes, clearly nonplussed. What would you say in a situation as this?
“Go with sorry. I’m sorry I had to walk in on it. I’m sorrier my son had to witness it.”
She rubs a hand on my arm. Immediately her warm touch does something for me. Steadies me. Her warmth calms my jittery nerves. It might not be the right thing, coming here, laying my problems at her feet, but it feels right being here with her. She gets me. She knows what I need without even knowing she’s giving it to me. Her. Her touch.
“Sorry, you had a shitty morning, sorrier for Jackson it was the shittiest.” I smile at her choice of words. She smiles back, because we both know she rarely uses cuss words. I cover her hand with mine, keeping it still against me so I can feel her skin against mine. A simple moment of understanding between us, no words necessary.
It’s amazing how long we’ve been apart and yet here, alone with her, it feels like time has hardly passed. Her lips brush across the back of my hand. I turn my head and look into her eyes, with slow, steady, deep breaths. She comforts me in a way no one else can. She always was my calm in the storm. Seems she still is. Before I do something stupid to ruin this, I clear my throat and take my hand from hers.
She sits back, also clearing her throat. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why my lips keep touching you.”
She bites down on her lips, and I chuckle. “You don’t ever have to be sorry when you’re with me,” I say reaching over with my thumb, gently pulling the lip I desperately want to kiss from between her teeth, purposely brushing my thumb across her cheek before dropping my hand. “I’m sorry for showing up here with my problems, holding you up from getting to work.”
“I’m late, but I don’t mind. You needed me. I wish I could stay longer.” She sighs. Looking at her watch. “I gotta go. Sam is understanding, but I don’t want to push it too far. As soon as I get off tonight we can talk, if you still feel like it?”
“Even better, let me drive you and pick you up at the end of your shift?” Yeah, this is my way of trying to see her a second time today without seeming too emotionally needy. “It’s the least I can do for making you late and listening to my morning of utter chaos.”
“Well...” she bites her lip, and just when I’m convinced she’s going to say no, she nods. “Okay. I get off at 7:30 p.m.”
Emptying the water bottle Trigg threw me, I slam it down on the counter. He raises a brow at me when I say, “Hit me with another one, barkeep.”
He grins, shaking his head. “You’re going to need something way stronger if you want to temporarily erase your morning of horrors.”
“Don’t I know it.” I crush the plastic in my hand. “I’m not angry she’s moving on. I understand everyone needs someone to make them feel something. Hell, that’s how we met. Me needing to feel something—anything— for as long as it took me to get off. Can’t be upset with her for that.”
“Then what’s the real deal here? I know you and Bree are technically still legally married, but it’s been over for a long time.”
“We’ve only been keeping up appearances for Jackson. He asked me some questions after I picked him up from practice. I had to tell him his mother and I weren’t together anymore.”
“How’d he take it?”
“Not sure. He said okay, and then said he was ready to go inside with his mom.”
“He’ll be okay. You both are great with him—way better than my crap parents were with me. He’ll be fine as long as he has both of you. Little dude knows he can talk to you when he’s ready to get shit off his chest.”
“I’m going to hang around the house some more with him when Bree’s there—make sure he knows he’s a priority to us—and I’ll push back moving out of the house.”
He picks up a cup and wipes it off. “Sounds like a plan. What ya gonna do about, Lacey? How does she fit into this?”
“I don’t know. Thought I did, until today.” I raise the mangled plastic over my head and aim for the can behind the bar to Trigg’s right. It misses. Perfect.
“Sure you do, or you wouldn’t have ended up at her house at the first hit of tragedy since she came back into your life.”
I might as well be honest with him. He knows the complicated history of all our lives. “Everything and nothing has changed between us. She’s still my Lacey. Marriage, kids, years of our lives spent apart, and I still want her as bad as I ever did. I can’t shake her. The way she makes me feel when I think about her? It’s always been here, and I can’t help wanting her as more than a friend. It’s not what I thought it would be, or how I thought I would feel about seeing her again, not to mention Jacob.”
“What did you think you would feel?”
“Not what I feel for both of them. He’s a great kid. He’s funny, and he’s smart. Most of all, he has Lacey’s heart. He’s a lovable kid; no one who meets him can deny that. I want to get to know them better. I want more than the friendship I’m pretending I want. What if she doesn’t want more? I think she does. When we’re together, I feel it between us—who we are when it’s me and her, even when we’re not alone.”
He rests his forearms against the counter behind the bar and looks me straight in the eyes. This is the “no bullshit” Trigg—the serious side of him most people don’t know he has. But when it comes out, you should probably listen. “Don’t overthink things. Go with your gut feelings. It’s served you well. You’re getting a second chance with the woman I know you have never stopped loving. She doesn’t seem like the frail shattered girl you left —”
He stops me with a raised hand before I get a chance to protest that harsh truth. It is the truth. Doesn’t mean I like hearing it out loud .
“Hear me out. I was there by your side; I know the real deal. I get it. Tell her how you feel. Where you’re both concerned, your instincts haven’t failed you yet. Unlike mine, which let me down on the regular.” He smiles big and wide. “I’m done playing Dr. Phil; I’m going to get the fuck back to work, make my pick of the chick or two escorting me back home at the end of the night.” He points a finger at me, walking away. “You get the fuck outta here. Have that too-serious-for-me talk with Lacey.”
Who’s that?”
I close the lid of the box in front of me and spin around on the stool behind the counter to see who Tandy is looking at. I doubt it’s Landon. Things were kind of slow tonight, so Sam said I could go home an hour early. I’m wrong. Landon is leaning up against the passenger side door of his truck. His head is bent down, as if he’s contemplating the mysteries of the world.
“He’s hot,” Tandy says.
He is to me. But that’s going to stay with me. If I agree with Tandy, she’ll start getting ideas of fixing me up. I rebuff her every time she tries to fix me up with one of her friends or someone she thinks will be a perfect match for me. I burst her well-meaning bubble with the excuse of being too old for one
of her friends, which we both know is ridiculous, being she is only two years younger than me.
But we’re so different. Night and day. Most days I feel light years beyond my age, like the prime of my life got skipped right over. As if everything great in my life that’s supposed to happen has passed me by. There is no going back to try and claim them as mine; the best I can do is be satisfied with the life I have. That’s not Tandy. She wouldn’t understand unless I tell her the story, which I won’t burden her with just to stop her from doing what she thinks will make me happy. She’s bubbly and carefree, seeming to have no greater worries than passing her next final or going to the next party and hanging out after work with her friends. As it should be, at our age. You should be free to do the things you want without a hint of fear of what might come. Things I haven’t completely mastered yet, but I’m getting there.
His head rises from his relaxed position. Smiling, he gives us a wave through the windows. My co-worker’s face lights up with her usual broad smile, waving enthusiastically at him. “Is that your piece? Go you! I didn’t know you were seeing anyone. You don’t date. You turn me down every time I try with you.”
“He’s an old friend who’s recently come back into my life.”
“If I was you, I’d be wanting to turn him into more than my old friend.” She waves at him again, wiggling her fingers through the windows. I can imagine what Landon is thinking. I roll my eyes at her and give her a hug with the little blue box in my hand. “Bye, Tandy.”
“Bye, hon. Do something you wouldn’t usually do.” She does a cheesy, exaggerated wink at me. I laugh, walking out to meet Landon in front of the passenger side door that he opens for me after we say hello. I fix the small box in my lap, and his deep voice wraps around me, filling the space we’re in.
“How was your day?”
“It was as good as work days go. Tips weren’t bad. It was an easy day, so Sam let me off early. I wasn’t expecting you so soon. A guess somehow you knew I needed you to come early.” I smile at him. “You have a killer sixth sense; you always knew when to show up for me.”
Cry For You_A Second Chance Romance Page 12
