False Start (Mavericks #1)

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False Start (Mavericks #1) Page 32

by Julianna Marley


  “Alivia?” Mary asked, appearing from the kitchen, a dish rag over her shoulder. The woman still looked the same as the day she had met her, petite like Chelsea sharing her daughter’s raven black hair. Her cocoa brown eyes warm like Chelsea’s, yet more vulnerable than she remembered. Unlike her daughter, she spoke softly, a stark contrast to her Italian roots, only accentuating her thick accent.

  “You look as pretty as a picture.” Mary sang, bringing her in for a hug, squeezing tightly.

  “But you’re too thin,” she scolded, whipping her gently with her dish towel. Despite the nerves digging inside of her, it felt good to have a warm, gentle hug. She had been so hell bent on convincing everyone that she was fine since she had kicked Jax out of the house that she hadn’t let anyone get close to her. Even for a hug. She was still avoiding Chelsea, which she felt badly about, but she knew her best friend well enough to know that Chelsea would sit and cry right along with her and talk about “making it work” and “maybe if she just” because that was Chelsea, but that wasn’t what she needed right now. She needed to be strong. For her girls, for her business, and for herself. Sitting around crying was not going to solve any of her problems any more than it had almost twelve months ago.

  “Charles should be here shortly,” Mary smiled, leading her to the pale green couch inside the living room.

  Wonderful.

  She hadn’t seen Chelsea’s brother in years, had never been a fan of the judgmental tattletale. He had mimicked his father in every way, always feeling the need to incessantly please his parents by ratting out other kids in school or listening in on her and Chelsea’s conversations, only to run and tell their parents. Of course that was back when they were kids, and she had no doubt that had changed, wondering what his take was on the divided family.

  “Alivia, how is your mama?” Jim asked, sitting across from her in the white armchair, taking the glass of sweet tea from Mary.

  “Oh, she’s fantastic,” she smiled, taking the glass from Mrs. Shaw. Last the Shaws had seen her mama, she was working three jobs to support them both, missing block parties and summer bbq’s, fall fairs and holiday parties trying to keep her in the decent neighborhood with the good schools.

  “She met a wonderful man, Edward,” she said, taking a sip of her tea. “They were married last year and now she is finally seeing the world that she has missed out on all those years ago,” she smiled, unable to hide how happy she was that her mama found happiness. After catching the Shaws up with the details of her mama’s fairytale romance, she felt herself ease up a bit. Maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as she thought it would be?

  “And how is Jack?” Mary smiled, reaching across the couch patting her hand, referring to Jax by his birth name. A name that he shared with his father. One he had wanted no association with since the day he had turned eighteen.

  Or maybe this is going to be difficult.

  “He is well, thank you,” she said softly, forcing a smile.

  She didn’t want to alert the Shaws that she and Jax were no longer together, heck, she hadn’t even wrapped her head around it all yet, but that wasn’t why she came. Desperate to change the subject she inquired about the church, watching Jim’s eyes light up talking animatedly about the church and his groups and how he was breeding Charles to take over for him as pastor someday. Listening to him go on, only a fraction of what he said actually registering, she stole a few glances out of the corner of her eye at Mary and the tight line across her face, rolling her eyes a time or two. It was clear that she didn’t share her husband’s same fondness for the church.

  “Hi y’all.”

  Alivia heard the front door open as Charles walked in looking nothing short of a younger version of his father. Even his neatly parted hair was combed the exact same way. Creepy.

  “Charles.” Mary glided off the couch wrapping her son into a hug. “Hunny, look who is in town.” She moved out of the way as Alivia got off the couch walking across the living room.

  “Liv?” he asked, his eyebrows rising. His eyes darting around the room he looked at his father, slight panic crossing his face. “What are you doing here?”

  Well hello to you too.

  “I had some business in town and thought I’d stop by for a visit,” she smiled sweetly, leaning in to give him an awkward hug.

  “Well, everyone is here,” Mary sang happily, interrupting the uncomfortable reunion. “Let’s eat.”

  Mrs. Shaw had completely outdone herself, the dinner table set to absolute perfection. Alivia’s innate attention to detail couldn’t keep from appreciating the southern inspired table setting for its pure loveliness. The mixed white and grey magnolia shaped dinner plates sitting on the burlap table cloth looked elegant while paired with the ornate rose glassware that she remembered from when she had celebrated the holidays with the Shaws as a child. She could smell the magnolia centerpiece sitting beautifully in the middle of the table, running her finger lightly along the stem of the sterling flatware that she loved so much. Even at the bold age of ten years old, she had appreciated small details and beautiful things, the flatware print that the Shaws had was her absolute favorite and when she and Jax got married, it was the first piece of china she had purchased. The china that was supposed to be used by them for the rest of their lives.

  “Alivia, how are your daughters?” Jim asked, bringing her out of her stemware daydreams.

  “Oh they are wonderful,” she beamed, at the mention of the girls, placing the woodblock napkin on her lap. “Hannah is our sassy, thrill seeking adventuress and Hailey is our sweet, gentle soul.”

  She could smell the large plate of catfish and homemade macaroni and cheese before Mrs. Shaw even walked out of the kitchen, only overpowered by the divine scent of her famous buttery cornbread. After insisting on serving everyone, she finally joined them at the table as they mechanically bowed their heads in prayer as Jim and Charles ran off a blessing of both family and food. As wonderful as the food smelled and certainly looked, she didn’t have an appetite. Just another thing that Jax had taken with him along with her heart, her pride, and her happily ever after. The nerves in her stomach threatening to rear their ugly head once again felt similar to what she remembered morning sickness had felt like; nauseous and aggressive but at all hours of the day.

  “How is work, Alivia?” Mary asked carefully, pushing her wispy hair behind her ears.

  “Busy,” she admitted, placing the fork down she was using to mull her food around her plate. “A lot of great events going on.”

  Leaning back into her chair, she rested her hands in her lap, swallowing the lump in her throat.

  “This weekend we have the largest event of the year for the Mavericks,” she said, shifting her eyes to Jim at the mention of the Mavs, which associated to football, which led to Trevor, which then of course connected to Chelsea. Shifting her eyes between Jim and Charles, she took a small sip of her tea. “And a lot of parties for kids who are graduating.”

  “I’m sure since it is springtime,” Mary added, resting her hands on the table, “You have a lot of weddin’s?”

  And there it was. Placed in the center of the table like a Thanksgiving Day turkey. The key to what would either be a wonderful family reunion or a colossal disaster.

  “Yes,” she agreed, leaning back in her chair, looking across the table at Charles’s eyes narrowed on her. “A lot of weddings. Right now my main focus is the party this weekend,” she said calmly, clearing her dry throat. “And Chelsea and Trevor’s wedding.”

  Breezing out of her mouth so quickly, she hadn’t had a second to think about it, she looked over at Jim as the room fell erringly quiet. The only sound coming from the birds chirping outside as Mr. Shaw slowly placed his fork against the bone china. His eyes unwavering she watched him continue to chew his food slowly.

  “Oh well that sounds pleasant,” Jim said, glancing across the table at his wife. ‘Pleasant?’ That’s it? That’s all he had to say about his only daughter getting marrie
d?

  “Tell me Alivia, has she found her weddin’ gown yet?” Mary asked eagerly.

  “Mary,” Jim warned across the table.

  “I was just askin’ a question about our daughters weddin’,” Mary shot back.

  “It’s irrelevant,” he snapped, looking determined to shut down the conversation completely.

  Sitting in her chair quietly, she watched Mary’s eye twitch preparing herself. She had only heard Mrs. Shaw yell twice, once when she was young and once when Chelsea announced she was moving to Charleston with her boyfriend, both of those times beginning with a light twitch of her eye.

  “It’s relevant to me, Jim!” Mary raised her voice, placing her fork down on her plate loudly.

  “That is our daughter and she is gettin’ married!” She smacked her hand down on the table looking straight at Jim.

  “Mary, let’s not do this again,” Jim sighed, taking a long sip of his sweet tea.

  Again? Had this been a fight before?

  “I knew you were here to start a problem,” Charles accused across the table, his eyes squinted.

  “Oh shut it, Charles,” she whispered back just as sharply. She couldn’t stand Chelsea’s brother, never could and she just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the one fueling this family rift.

  “We have a grandson that we have never met!” Mary shouted louder, getting everyone’s attention. She had never seen the woman so upset. And loud! And judging by Jim’s face, looking back at his meek wife yelling loudly enough for the entire neighborhood to hear, neither had he.

  “Mama, calm down,” Charles sighed, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “She made her choices and they were the wrong ones and she must live with that,” Charles said simply, looking at Jim. “Right Pops?”

  Stupid turd.

  “Yes. Yes she did,” Jim said, wiping his mouth with his napkin, pushing his plate aside. “So Mary, please calm down. Chelsea decided to live in sin when she ran off with Perry.”

  “Trevor,” Alivia corrected raising a brow. She would not sit here and have them disrespect such a wonderful friend.

  “Yes, Trevor,” Jim said, waving off her correction, only fueling her irritation. “And so instead of proclaiming love and commitment in front of God and the church, Chelsea ran off and got pregnant with a child out of wedlock,” he preached, shrugging like it was so simple. That the woman he was talking about wasn’t his little girl. That the said child wasn’t his only grandson.

  “It doesn’t mean we can’t support her,” Mary insisted, and Alivia could tell the poor woman was straddling the line between tears and rage.

  “The meathead didn’t even have the nerve to come here himself,” Charles scoffed crossing his arms across his chest. The little shit was enjoying every opportunity he had to provoke his father as she felt her anger rise. Trevor had every intention of meeting with the Shaws to explain his intentions, but Chelsea hadn’t trusted her papa and brother not to attack him right on the spot, promising him that she would handle them. But arguing wasn’t going to solve the issue any more than it was going to get the Shaws on that plane to the wedding. She needed to turn this bus around, fearing that her small window of opportunity was quickly closing, she chimed in.

  “May I say something?”

  “No,” they all said in unison, continuing the stare down across the table.

  Well damn.

  “Mary, the teachings say-”

  “-Oh be quiet with your teachings, Jim!” Mary cut him off, throwing her napkin on her plate. “I am so sick and tired of you holding this family to such high expectations,” she yelled, pushing her chair out. “I sacrificed everything when I packed up a life that I loved back in Virginia to come here so that you could be the pastor at that church and I have let you walk around here dictating this house and our lives for far too long.” She stood, her eye now twitching rapidly. “I allowed you to push our sweet girl out of our lives because she went off to live her own life, but no more!” she screamed, putting her hands on her thick hips. “I will not alienate my daughter anymore because of a stubborn old coot like you!” she demanded, her face a bright red. “Do you understand, me?”

  Blinking back at his wife, Jim’s mouth dropped a fraction and she had to suppress a laugh. Surely, this had never happened before.

  “I will be going to that weddin’.” Mary stabbed the table with her finger, shaking the dishes, “With or without you.”

  Silence filling the room, Alivia glanced across the table at Charles, his face anxious; as if losing some ridiculous claim over his parents.

  “May I say something?” she asked again, her voice cracking as three pairs of eyes all blazing fell on her.

  “This is Chelsea we’re talking about here. Y’all are talking about her like she isn’t the most gentle and forgiving woman that any of us know,” she said, looking between Jim and Charles.

  “She’s made this beautiful family and is such an amazing mommy to Asher, really, y’all need to see her in action.” She smiled at each of them. “Asher is such a special little boy,” she gushed thinking about her godson.

  “He has your smile,” she said, looking over at Jim, watching his eyes soften for the first time all evening.

  “Chelsea is very supportive of Trevor and he is just over the moon about her,” she chuckled thinking of the couple that defined drunk in love. “He asked her to marry him nearly a hundred times!” she giggled seeing a tear falling from Mary’s cheek.

  “Who for the record,” she cut Charles a look across the table, returning his stink eye, “is not a coward. I know that you don’t agree with all the decisions she has made, but,” she paused placing her hand on top of Jim’s. “Y’all are missing out. Missing out on your daughter becoming a wife, missing out on a beautiful grandson and a nephew and having another son who is absolutely wonderful,” she paused, silently hoping that something, anything was striking a chord with the two stubborn men refusing to look at her, hanging their heads. Hopefully in shame.

  “She is going to marry Trevor next month,” she added simply. “It’s just a matter if you want to miss out on that too.”

  Wiping her eyes, Mary sniffed, looking across the length of the table to Jim.

  “I will be there Alivia,” she stood, picking up her dinner plate, “With or without my boys.”

  Leaving the three of them at the table in silence, dishes banged inside the kitchen. Jim’s face looked softer, more agile, but still unreadable.

  “Pops, you can’t actually let Ma go?” Charles balked looking at his dad. “You can’t let the church see you supporting Chelsea’s disobedience.”

  “Quiet Charles,” Jim ordered, cutting off the fuel to this entire fire. It all made perfect sense now. This was about Jim being forced to choose the church over his own daughter. His jaw tightening, he rubbed the stem of his water glass.

  “Even if I did attend, Alivia,” he said, resting his arms on the table. “What makes you think she would even want me there?”

  “Forgiveness,” she said quickly. “It’s the only thing standing between you, your daughter, and her precious family.”

  Looking past him out the large window, she wondered if that was what she needed to do with Jax? To take her own advice, as simple as it was and just forgive him for coming back into her life with no intentions of staying? He had nearly destroyed her once before and she had given him the power to do it all over again. No. Things with Jax were different. Especially this time.

  Without another word, she cleared off the dinner table to help Mary, giving Jim space to process their discussion. Placing the china on the kitchen counter while Mrs. Shaw violently scrubbed the plates in what she only assumed was a state of frustration. Heading back into the dining room reaching for Jim’s dinner plate, he stopped her. Looking up at her, his eyes glossy, she couldn’t think of a time she had ever seen him so vulnerable. So defenseless.

  “Do you really think she would forgive me?”

  Placing a hand on his sho
ulder, she smiled.

  “I do.”

  Sitting in the living room on the receiving end of Charles’ stare down and pouts, like a damn near child, Alivia just wanted to leave the night in peace. Frequently stealing glances inside the dining room at Jim, who hadn’t moved from his seat since dinner, staring off, lost in his own head. She only hoped that it was a good sign. Unable to take Charles’s pitifulness any longer, she wandered around the house looking at older pictures of Chelsea growing up, pleasantly surprised that Asher looked just like his mama at her age. He had so many of Trevor’s mannerisms and being a boy, she had thought he was Trevor’s miniature, but seeing the same gummy smile, tiny nose and wider cheeks, Asher most certainly favored his mama. Drifting into the kitchen to offer Mary some help cleaning up dinner for the third time, she stopped at the sound of muffled sobs. As much as she hated watching Chelsea upset and avoiding planning her own wedding, she hadn’t wanted to upset Mrs. Shaw to the point of tears. She was a sweet, loving woman and she didn’t deserve to be put in such a terrible position. Nobody did.

  Inching closer inside the kitchen, she stopped again at the sound of voices, hearing Mr. Shaw.

  “I’m sorry, Mary,” he whispered, “I’m sorry I have been so stubborn.”

  “She’s our daughter, Jim,” Mary sniffled, her sobs muffling again. “If the church doesn’t support you having a relationship with your own daughter than you need to leave, Jim. You need to resign.”

  “I know,” he said quietly, soothing her. Unable to stop the pang of hopefulness, she gave them another minute before stepping inside the kitchen seeing Jim holding his wife by the sink.

  “I hate to interrupt,” she said softly, feeling guilty for ruining their moment. “But I have to get going, now. I need to get back to the airport.”

  “Oh, Alivia,” Mary cried, throwing her arms around her, nearly knocking her off her black pumps. “Thank you.” She pulled back, tears staining her round face. “Just thank you.”

  “Thank you for what exactly?” she asked, hoping with all her might that Mrs. Shaw would repeat the words she so desperately wanted to hear. The words that had got her on that plane to begin with. The ones that went something like “we will be at the wedding.”

 

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