Forget Me Not
Page 17
“Jesse, you don’t need to make amends for anything. You know that, right?”
I watch him, but his eyes are on the road as he starts up the car and prepares to move.
“Sure,” he replies, sceptically, and I’m left wondering how such a powerful man can be in need of so much reassurance.
Staring at the tall white church I feel peaceful already. There’s something about churches that gets to me. I’m not exactly a religious person. Throughout my life I’ve been blessed with reasons to believe, but also reasons to doubt. Nonetheless, regardless of my faith, or lack of, I still find such serenity here. I can’t say the same for Jesse, though. We’ve been sat in the parking lot for ten minutes and he hasn’t made any attempt to exit the car. With the wheel still in his grasp, he sits back against his seat, absentmindedly staring forward.
“Jesse, we don’t have to do this today. We can come back another time,” I suggest, my tone low and quiet, wary of alarming him since we haven’t spoken since we got here.
“No, it’s been too long already. Will you come with me?” Finally, he looks at me with needy eyes.
“Of course.”
We remove ourselves from the car and I rush around to be by his side. He takes my hand and we walk unhurriedly along the gravelly path towards the cemetery. The grounds are beautifully well kept with freshly cut grass and summer flowers blossoming along the border. The sun sits nicely on my skin but the heat is restrained by the steady breeze. We’re the only ones here and yet the area feels anything but lonely.
Jesse is oblivious to the beautiful day surrounding us. His body is tense and his grip around my hand is vice-like.
“I don’t know where to look for them,” he says, scanning the stones on either side of the walkway.
“This way,” I whisper.
I tug gently on his hand, pulling him towards the right corner of the churchyard. I can feel him eyeing me suspiciously, but he doesn’t get chance to say anything before I point towards two parallel plots.
My chest constricts as he edges closer to read the small engraved script on each stone. They’re simple with minimal wording and decoration. It’s clear that they haven’t been looked after in the same way that the other plots have. There’s no evidence that flowers have ever been left and they look miserably unloved. There are no clues in the wording to the people that they belong to, nothing to indicate what or who they left behind, and nothing to show for the people they were. Just names and dates.
Jesse loosens his grip on my hand and lowers himself onto bended knee. I stand behind him, reluctantly giving him some space when all I want to do is shelter him from this pain.
“I should’ve bought flowers,” he murmurs, his voice brittle.
“We can bring some tomorrow?” I propose calmly, but mentally kick myself for not thinking ahead.
Nodding, he remains on his knee and lightly dusts his fingers across the grass of his mother’s grave.
“I know he didn’t die in service or in action, but I’d have thought the army would have helped with the funeral costs for Ted. I’m surprised he doesn’t have a better headstone,” he wonders aloud.
“I’m not sure.”
After a moment of realization he sighs. “I guess Dale couldn’t be bothered to find out. I should’ve been here.”
I don’t know what to say. I doubt there’s anything I can say to make it better, I suppose he just needs to vent. He stands again and steps back to my side.
“I could’ve given them both better funerals. Dale didn’t give a shit. I bet there was nobody even there,” he snarls bitterly.
“I was there,” I admit, unsure whether I should be telling him this, but hoping that it allows him some relief from his misguided guilt. He looks at me sharply, and I check his face for any conflict, but there’s only confusion.
“You went to my mother’s funeral?” he asks.
“And Ted’s.”
“Why?”
“I thought you might be there, I guess.” I’m suddenly shy. Although I have already exposed the devastation caused by his departure, my declaration makes it all the more obvious that the aftershocks lasted for many years later.
“I should’ve been,” he sighs, pulling me a little closer. “I just couldn’t face returning for Ted’s funeral when I knew that Dale would be there. I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself and a funeral is no place to get even.”
Staring back down at his mother’s grave, his hand rubs the back of his head. His breath catches and I look up to see traces of tears glistening in his eyes. I cling to him, wrapping both arms around his waist, every ounce of me yearning to take on this grief for him. I can’t bear to think of him so torn up inside.
“I didn’t even know about my mom’s death until after the funeral,” he reveals. I pull away just enough to see his face. He wipes his eyes quickly with the back of his hand.
“Dale didn’t tell you?” I ask, incredulously.
“Of course he didn’t.” He sniffs. “Remember Smithy?”
I nod, a little confused.
“He was working the doors of one of my clubs and he’d heard the news from his parents. He passed on his condolences without even realizing that I didn’t know.”
I can’t handle anymore. My eyes are now teeming with tears. I bury my head in his chest, hiding my anguish. He has plenty of his own to deal with without being faced with mine.
Shuffling his body around so that he’s completely facing me, he wraps both arms around my back and squeezes gently. He’s so tall and broad, I feel so miniscule in comparison, so protected and safe. I only wish I could return the favor.
“Jesse, I don’t know what to say. I wish I could make it all better. Maybe if I’d tried even harder to find you then I could have told you myself, or maybe I should have organized the funerals so that they could have had better send offs. I didn’t think. I’m so sorry.” My voice breaks and I briefly hold my breath to halt the sobs.
“Hey.” He pulls back to look down at me. “Mickey, you didn’t have to do anything. You don’t owe me. And, just you being here with me now helps more than you could ever know. If it wasn’t for you then I’d never have even come back.”
Wiping my cheeks with his thumbs, he clears my face of tears. He kisses my forehead and pulls me into another embrace, eliminating some of the pain in my chest.
“I love you so much,” I whisper.
“I don’t deserve your love,” he bites, quietly.
“Jesse!” I exclaim. I look up at him, shocked by his self-hatred.
“But I love you too, and I need you.”
“You have me, deservedly,” I state, articulating the words clearly, hoping that they sink in.
We don’t break the connection as we walk back to the car, our arms linked around each other’s waists. As we reach the passenger door he slowly comes to a stop. His previously gloomy blues are now serene as they stare down at me. Wandering hands gradually make their way to my hair and his fingers weave between the loose curls. His mouth finds mine and we’re lost in another moment, cocooned in our little bubble. We console each other in the most sincere way we know how before he releases my lips, resting his forehead against mine as we catch our breath.
“I thought you didn’t do public displays of affection?”
He smirks deliciously. “Sweets, I’m making up for ten years worth of lost time. I want you anywhere I can get you.”
“Even outside a church?”
“Even inside a church…at midnight mass. I’m not going to waste my time worrying about what other people think of our PDA’s.” We laugh together, relaxing after an incredibly tense half hour. “Now come, before I have you in the parking lot.”
What a start to the week. Mundane Monday it is not. The three of us are currently relaxing on the couch after Jesse treated us to a congratulatory meal at the local seafood restaurant in the town centre. The food was perfect, and the company was exquisite.
Benjamin has been stuck to Jess
e like glue since we showed up at his soccer practice in the Mustang. His friends were awestruck at the beast, as were many of their parents. Benjamin lapped up the praise and his sweetly smug grin has remained with him all evening.
We finally let him in on the fact that Jesse and I knew each other previously. There was no need to touch on the specifics, all he knows is that we were very good friends, a very long time ago, and now we are friends again. Unsurprisingly, Benjamin took on this information with ease. He didn’t bat an eyelid at us holding hands or when Jesse kissed me pleasantly on the cheek after making a speech in my honor. I think he’s aware of far more than we give him credit for, but if he’s ever ready to ask questions, then I now feel that I could be comfortable answering them.
I’ve no fear of Benji rejecting Jesse, or specifically, our relationship. There’s a connection forming between the pair and I know it’s very early days, but I can’t help but feel hopeful that there’s a genuine bond there. That growing bond only instills my willpower to make this relationship work, not just for my own happiness but for my son’s too.
Yet again, I feel as though I’m slipping into a food coma, and it appears as though the feeling is mutual when Benjamin actually insists on going to bed.
“Okay, sweetheart. You’re pretty beat, huh?”
“Yeah,” he yawns.
“How about you go and get changed for bed and brush your teeth, then I’ll come and tuck you in?”
He nods sleepily and hoists himself off from the sofa next to me. To my utter surprise he walks over to the end of our corner sofa where Jesse is lounging lazily. He climbs into the space next to him and falls into Jesse’s open arms, which quickly respond with a reciprocated hug.
“Goodnight, Jesse,” he sighs, sleepily.
“G’ night. See you for breakfast.” Jesse must be shocked too, but he gives away nothing, not even to my trained eyes.
“Can we have eggs again?” Benji perks up.
“Sure.” Jesse smiles warmly.
The embrace brings tears to my eyes, beautifully happy tears that I want to welcome but can’t. I don’t want to make a big deal about this. I open my eyes wide trying to disperse the tears but they betray me and fall anyway. I quickly dab them away with the palm of my hand just as Benjamin turns back to me.
“I’ll go get ready for bed, Mom.”
I nod and smile in response, frightened to speak in case I let out more tears.
As he stumbles up the stairs I clock eyes with Jesse who is already watching me with amused interest. I let out a dramatic sigh that’s only part pretence.
“That was sweet, huh?” Jesse offers.
“Wow, Jesse. You have no idea what that just did to me.” I lightly fan my face, still chasing away the tears. I stand up and smooth out my clothes, trying to distance myself from the emotion.
Jesse stands up immediately, stepping closer and taking my hand. “Are you okay?” Concern is etched across his handsome features.
“He’s never been like that with anyone before,” I reply, holding my free hand across my heart in an effort to control the swelling. “Not that he’s had the opportunity, but still, it’s a huge deal for me.”
Stepping closer still, our feet now touching, Jesse moves his other hand to my chin and tilts it upwards so that my eyes meet his. “That was a pretty big deal for me too.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
I’m now enveloped in his strong arms and I breathe in his heady scent. His mouth opens, but instead of the bass tones of Jesse’s gravelly voice, dreamy little words echo from up the stairs.
“Are you coming up?” Benjamin calls down.
“Yes, sweetheart.” I chuckle, and give Jesse a chaste kiss on the cheek.
Benjamin is already in bed when I make it upstairs. He’s done a pretty good job of tucking himself in, but I humor him and repeat the process anyway. I sit on the bed and stroke his hair from his face.
“Have you had a nice day today?” I ask.
“Yeah.” His eyes are closed, but he’s still fidgeting with the corner of his pillow case.
“Then you’ll have nice dreams,” I tell him. I lift myself off the bed and then lean down to kiss his forehead. “Goodnight, Benji. I love you.”
As I stand his eyes flick open as if he has forgotten something.
“Mom?”
“Yes, darling?”
“Do you love Jesse?” His voice is relaxed, oblivious to the complexity laced within his question.
“Why do you ask?” I crouch down nervously to kneel next to him on the floor.
“Because you act like Lily’s mom and dad and they love each other, don’t they?”
A million responses race through my mind as I try to work out how to handle this. I need to be truthful if I’m serious about this, and I am well and truly serious. If I’m going to welcome Jesse into our little family, then Benjamin needs to have a good understanding of the situation so that he can feel comfortable welcoming him too.
“Yes, they do.” I take a deep breath. “Baby, I love Jesse very much, not the same way that I love you, but I do love him.”
“Does Jesse love you?”
“I think so.” I smile.
“You should ask him,” he naively advises. I won’t explain that he’s already told me on several occasions that he loves me and that it’s just Mommy’s inbuilt self-deprecation that’s still unsure.
“I will.”
“So, does that mean that Jesse is my daddy?”
Wow.
I rack my brain desperately trying to come up with an acceptable answer. There is no right or wrong way to handle this I tell myself. There’s no manual that you can Google, okay, there probably is, but I don’t have time. I just need to deal with it myself.
“Honey, Jesse can’t be your real daddy, remember we talked about your real dad?”
He nods, though I can’t tell if he really does remember.
“But, I know that Jesse really cares about you, and I want Jesse to be a part of our family…but only if you do too?”
He nods again but his eyes are wide and still expecting a definitive answer.
“So...just because we don’t call him Daddy doesn’t mean that he isn’t very important to us both. Daddy is just a name really, it doesn’t make someone special. It’s what they do or how they make you feel that makes them special, right?”
I can only hope that I am saying the right thing. I thought I was prepared to tell Benji everything, but I guess this is over my head. I don’t want to lie to him but I don’t want to trap Jesse with guilt over Benjamin’s expectations.
“Like…when he cooks our breakfast and makes me happy?”
“Exactly.”
“Or when he plays soccer with me, or drives me in the Batmobile?” he muses, yawning as his sleepiness finally closes in.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“Cool.” Smiling, he relaxes down into his duvet and turns onto his side.
“Very cool,” I reiterate. I lean over and kiss his forehead again. “Now, go to sleep and dream nice dreams.”
“About Batmobile’s.”
“Goodnight, darling. I love you.”
“Love you,” he yawns as I turn out the light and shut the door behind me.
Jesse is sat at the kitchen table with his laptop casting a cold bluish light onto his fetching features. He looks up when I step into the kitchen, his smile faltering when he’s confronted with my pout. I saunter over and invite myself to take a seat in his lap, resting my head on his shoulder, begging for the kindness of his comforting arms. He complies without hesitation, draping his arms around me and squeezing gently.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just a difficult conversation with Benjamin.”
“Oh?” Resting his head on mine he removes one hand to close the lid on the laptop, then brings it back to its resting place around my ribs.
“I think he’s confused. He was asking about if we loved each other
and if you were his new daddy.”
A lump develops in my throat as I relive his innocent asks. They’re perfectly understandable questions for a six year old, but that doesn’t make them any less difficult to answer.
Jesse’s body tenses. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him that we loved each other, and then I explained that we didn’t need to label anyone as daddy, that it was just a name and we should simply enjoy you being here.”
In one swift action his arms abandon me. Instead of cradling me, they lock behind his head. I feel vulnerable now that I’m without his embrace, so I slowly stand and step away from his space.
“What’s wrong?”
“This is big, Mickey.”
I step back until I’m looking down at him. I don’t like the sudden space between us but it feels appropriate. “I know it’s big. But what did you expect?” He says nothing, but his eyes are transfixed on the ceiling as his head leans back further in his chair. “Did I say something wrong?” My words come out sharper than I mean them to, but at least he’s looking up at me now, albeit with uneasy eyes.
“No, no,” he breathes. The space between us has gone as he pulls me back onto his lap. I’m hesitant, but he holds my hands firmly in his. “I just don’t want to confuse the poor guy.”
I mentally replay my conversation with Benji, finding strength in my words the second time round. “How would it confuse him? If you’re planning on sticking around then surely there’s no harm in allowing him to know that?” My shield is up but his thumbs trace circles over my knuckles in an effort to break through.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Of course I’m sticking around. Stop even entertaining the idea of me leaving you both. I just…I don’t want to force our relationship on him or force being a father figure to him. Can’t we just be friends?”
Delicate Jesse is back and his words speak deeper than he intends.
“Of course you’re friends. Daddy is just a word to him, Jesse. There’s no pressure on you to become anything you don’t want to be. But, if way down the line you did ever feel like you could be a father figure to him, then I assure you, it would be welcomed by both me and him. He really likes you.”