Soft Spot: A Hale Street Novella

by Amy Knupp

  "Please. Go."

  "I'm not going to leave you," he said. "Not like this."

  Shit. Dammit. Hell. The one time she wanted a man to get the hell away, he wouldn't. Had she told Donny or Wade to leave during her mother's emergencies, they would've been out the door before she could say boo.

  Not Jackson. Of course not Jackson. It appeared she needed to clarify for him.

  "Come on," she said, walking toward the door from her mom's hellacious apartment to the hallway. When he followed her out, she stopped to close the door behind them. With her back toward him, she closed her eyes to the tears burning in them, sucked in a deep breath, and silently cursed the universe.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jackson watched from behind as Asia's shoulders rose, then slowly lowered before she turned around. When her eyes avoided his, he got a sinking feeling in his gut. A sense of foreboding. Mentally shaking himself, he waited for her to speak. To give him something to deny, to argue with. A chance to prove to her that he was fine and they were okay.

  And then he preempted her. "Everything's going to be okay, Asia."

  A humorless laugh escaped her, and she raised her gaze to the dilapidated popcorn ceiling of the hallway. "Everything is so not okay."

  "Your mom is," he said. "I know that was scary, but she appears to be fine."

  "Fine. Sure." As she said it, though, she shook her head. "If fine is drinking yourself to death, literally, and not caring, yeah, she's fine. If fine is having multiple strokes and being warned by doctors that, if you don't change your ways, it's only a matter of time before you have another one, potentially a bigger one, and you ignore that warning."

  He took a step forward but resisted reaching out for her the way he longed to.

  Asia shook her head again. "My mother is not fine, Jackson. And I'm not going to stand here with you and pretend that she is. That I am or we are. This is why. This is why I said no all those times. Why I wouldn't go on a date with you. Dating me means phone calls when she's been drunk so long she forgets what it feels like to be sober and she flips out, like today. Dating me means ER trips at all hours when she has yet another stroke. Dating me means visits to her repulsive, health hazard apartment, and even if you aren't lucky enough to go with me, you might have to reckon with my less-than-cheery mood after I've been here. Do you need me to go on?"

  "You really think I can't deal with that stuff?" he said, keeping his voice down.

  "Why would you? You've got a nice, tidy life. A beautiful home, a good, loving family, job security in spades. You're interviewed by the media several times a year. What would reporters say if you were linked to this?" She swung her arm around toward her mom's apartment. "They'd have a field day, and you know it. My family could ruin your spotless reputation, and the last I knew, that's something you want to avoid when you own a business."

  "I'm not worried about any of that stuff, Asia. If this is what comes with having you in my life, I can handle it."

  "I can barely handle it," Asia said with a quiet insistence.

  He reached out for her arm, but she backed away.

  "This is my life, Jackson. This is what dating one of the Knowles girls exposes you to. Weekly trips into this rat hole to make sure she hasn't drunk herself to death. Buying her groceries to make sure she doesn't starve. Stepping over the trash the whole way."

  "But you do it faithfully, don't you?"

  "It's crazy stupid and it's embarrassing and why do I do it, right?" She broke off and sniffled. "Because in spite of all of it, she's still my mom. The only one I have."

  When it sounded like tears could be imminent, she stood up straighter and looked away. But she didn't cry.

  "Asia," he said, taking another step closer. "This is a lot for you to handle. Does Vegas help?"

  "Vegas… No. I take care of it myself. It's better that way."

  He studied her in the dim hallway that didn't seem to be touched by daylight. He'd seen glimpses of her strength and her determination before, but now, in the tilt of her chin, the conviction in her eyes, he realized she had enough of both for ten people. It was something he admired. Something they had in common. If this woman wanted something, she would eventually have it.

  On the flip side, if she didn't want something, she wouldn't have it. And it was becoming clear as fucking day she didn't want him.

  "I'm sorry about last night." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  Her words were like a roundhouse to the gut. "I'm not."

  "It wasn't fair. To either one of us."

  "It has nothing to do with fair—"

  "I want you to go," she said with all the calm of a perfect summer day. She met his gaze, and for a second, he thought he saw a flicker of regret in her eyes. It was gone before he could be sure. "Please. Forget about this. Forget about me."

  Something balled up in his throat, and he looked away, wondering, in passing, why he didn't just walk away like she said. Why he was fighting so hard.

  "This scene with your mom this morning," he said, keeping his tone as even as possible, "it was stressful and emotional. Can you look me in the eye right now and tell me that sending me away is not a product of that stress?"

  Asia swallowed and looked at him head on. Nodded once.

  "It's really what you want? You want me to give up? Because if I walk away right now, it's the last time. I'll finally honor your wishes."

  Asia bit her lower lip and then nodded emphatically. "I'm sorry, Jackson. We were doomed from the start."

  Staring at her, he tried to come up with something meaningful to say, some punchy, pithy last lines, but there was nothing. He'd tried. So many times. Knocking his head on a wall would be more effective.

  Call him slow, but he'd finally had enough.

  Pressing his lips together, he nodded. "Okay then. You get your way. Good-bye, Asia."

  Without waiting for a response — as if there would be one — he turned and walked out of the building.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Asia thought it was quite the feat that she walked back into her mom's apartment and shut the door calmly, without slamming it. Nor did she crumble to the floor the way she wanted to and burst into tears. Nope, she bit down on every single screaming emotion that was pulsing just under her skin to get out and put on her calm, collected face as the paramedics packed up their supplies.

  "How is she?" Asia asked the shorter guy with red hair, who seemed to be in charge.

  "Doesn't appear to be any problems from the fall. We advised her to get to the doctor to get checked out. She refused medical assistance, so you might either convince her to go in or just keep an eye on her."

  "I'm fine," her mom said extra quietly. Distracted.

  Again, Asia glanced around for a half-full liquor bottle or a beer can that she might have accessed, but there were only long-empty bottles and no cans.

  "Thank you," Asia told the two guys. "I'm glad you checked her out."

  "No problem, ma'am," the redhead said. "You take care." To her mom, he added, "If you have any of the symptoms we talked about, Mrs. Knowles, you get into the ER right away."

  Frannie nodded absently.

  The two guys left, and Asia shut the door after them. Again, not slamming. Bonus points for her. Without sparing a look at her mom, she headed to the kitchen to check on the food supply. The fridge was in its usual near-empty state, with a few condiments, an empty egg container, a package of spoiled bologna, a half loaf of bread, and some single-serving yogurts. She sorted through them and, finding a couple that had expired more than a month ago, tossed the spoiled ones in the overflowing wastebasket.

  "Asia." Her mom's voice was stronger now than it had been when the medical guys had been there. More focused. "You didn't introduce me to your young man."

  Asia kept her back to her mom, the cluttered breakfast bar separating the rooms but not blocking the view between them. She took out the bread and inspected two pieces for green spots before putting them into the toaster ove
n. "No, I didn't."

  "Why not?"

  The more appropriate question would be why? Her mother had never shown interest in any of the men in her life before. "There was no point," she said instead. "He's gone."

  Several beats of silence passed before her mom said, "Because of me."

  "Because of me." Asia opened the door to check the toast. It had just started to darken in the ancient appliance. "I told him to leave."

  "You're ashamed of me." Her mom's tone was even, low, without a waver or any sign of a question in it.

  "I'm making you some toast. Would you like a glass of water?"

  "I heard your whole conversation out in the hallway," her mom said.

  So much for privacy. Probably all the neighbors had heard too.

  "He didn't want to go," Frannie continued.

  The toast was golden brown, so Asia took it out and then searched for a clean plate in the cabinets. Settled for a paper towel instead. "In the end, he did."

  "It sounded like he cared about you."

  "Do you want butter? Have any honey?" As if. She opened another cabinet. "Here's some cinnamon—"

  "Do you like him?"

  Asia set the bottle of cinnamon down on the counter. Let out the air from her lungs. Closed her eyes. "Yeah. I like him."

  Damn. It. All.

  She busied herself spreading butter over the toast, then sprinkling cinnamon on top. As she picked up the paper towel and toast with both hands and turned to take it to her mom, she jumped out of her skin to see the woman right there, standing at the edge of the breakfast bar.

  "All that stuff…" her mom said, grasping the countertop edge with shaky hands. "Everything you said to your young man is true."

  "He's not my man." Asia set the toast on the counter.

  "I…" Frannie shook her head slowly, then gasped. Her mouth moved as if she couldn't form the right words. Finally, she managed, "I embarrass you. You ended your relationship with him because you're ashamed of me." She said it seemingly to herself or to the space in front of her, muttering it as if all the facts were falling into place as she spoke.

  "I didn't have a relationship with him." Unless you counted spending the night together a relationship. Which Asia kind of did. Or she always had in the past. She wasn't the type to sleep with random guys.

  Though she'd long ago sworn not to clean this place for her mom anymore — her mom was more than capable of doing it herself if she chose to — she dampened a paper towel and started scrubbing at some grime on the counter.

  "I'm so sorry, Asia." There was a heavy sense of wonder lingering in Frannie's voice, and the words froze Asia mid-motion.

  She turned her head just enough to verify that her mom appeared to be sincere.

  Frannie Knowles, as far as Asia could remember, had never uttered those words, the S word, to her before. Not in twenty-eight years.

  Asia tossed the towel onto the counter and pivoted, crossing her arms. Waiting for her mom to say more. Wondering if she had, indeed, heard right.

  "I never…" Her mom blinked, then made eye contact with her daughter. "I never stopped to consider what it must be like to be in your shoes. You told him you can barely handle it."

  Asia's head bobbed once without her permission, but what the hell? There was no reason to deny any of it. What would become of this discussion remained to be seen, but she wasn't going to candy-coat a thing.

  "You can barely handle coming to see me…" Her mom shuffled slowly into the kitchen, to the cabinet where she stored drinking glasses, and took one out. Asia again noticed the shaking of her hand. "I need a drink."

  Just like that, Asia's heart sank, and it was then she realized she'd had a shred of hope…

  Dumb.

  But then her mom turned on the tap and held the glass beneath it. Filled it with cold water and then downed the whole thing in several gulps.

  "I…" Frannie walked to the edge of the kitchen again and surveyed her shambles of an apartment. Her head began bobbing, the movement slight but rhythmic. "I think I need help."

  Skeptical, Asia watched her mom, wondering if she meant help cleaning up the perpetual mess or … something else.

  Her mom moistened her lips and edged a hesitant look at her daughter again. "I can't stop without help."

  "Stop…?" Asia was afraid to breathe. "What do you want to stop, Mom?"

  Frannie swallowed and surveyed the apartment again. "I want to stop drinking." Her voice was super-quiet, but it was clear, and Asia's heart shot into overdrive. That was another phrase her mom had never once spoken. As many times as Asia had wanted to hear those words, she still didn't have a clue what to do next.

  "You want to go to rehab?" she asked carefully, feeling like if she moved wrong, she could spook a wild animal.

  "Need to. Yes," she said with slow consideration. "I don't want to embarrass you anymore, Asia. I don't…" Her voice broke off, and she took several seconds to rein in her control. "I don't want to be the reason you're unhappy."

  Tears burning in her eyes again, Asia took a tentative step forward and put her hand over her mother's. "This is a really big step."

  Her mom closed her eyes, also damp, and nodded.

  "I'm going to call Vegas and get her to start making some phone calls while we pack up some things for you. You can come to our place while we work out the details. Does that sound okay?"

  Her mom grasped their joined hands with her other one as her tears gushed out and ran down her cheeks. Gaze downcast, she said,"I'm so, so sorry. So sorry."

  Inhaling slowly, swallowing down years of resentment, Asia stood up straighter. "It's okay. We're going to get you the help you need."

  Frannie slowly raised her chin. Her hands were still wrapped around Asia's, and her lips trembled in time with her hands. "Thank you, Asia. I'm going to do this."

  "You are." As long as they could find her an inpatient rehab center… That was the first step.

  "If I'm going to do this, I want you to do something too," her mom said, removing her hands and standing a little straighter.

  "What's that?"

  "I want you to track down that good-looking man and give him another chance."

  That was the last thing Asia had expected.

  Just thinking about Jackson made her throat tighten up.

  "Oh."

  "If this didn't scare him away…" Her mom gestured toward the apartment. "If I didn't scare him away, he must think an awful lot of you."

  The look in his eyes before he'd turned and walked out the door had said his opinion of her had taken a nosedive.

  "I don't know… Even getting him to talk to me would be a tall order…"

  "Quitting alcohol is a tall order," her mom said bluntly. "But I'll give it my best if you do."

  Asia frowned. "What are you saying? If I don't go begging Jackson back, you won't do this?"

  "No. I'm going to do this. But if that man—Jackson you said his name is?—might be able to make you happy … you should give it another try."

  That man… Last night he'd made her more than happy. For the past few weeks, he'd given her more than her fair share of happiness. But recovery from alcoholism was a long, hard path, and long, hard paths had never been her mom's strength.

  "I'll give it some thought. Go pack some clothes and your toothbrush and I'm calling Vegas."

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Horse!" Ryan yelled on Sunday, a week later.

  "Horse's ass, more like," Keaton Hayes, the third partner in Tech Horse, said, grinning and shaking his head. "Never seen so many lucky shots."

  "Heads up." Jackson bounced the basketball to Keaton, who went in for an uncontested layup on Jackson's driveway hoop.

  "Skills," Ryan said, pulling his T-shirt back over his blond head now that the game was over. "You know you're jealous."

  "Gonna go home and work on my backwards granny shots to keep up with you," Keaton said.

  Jackson jogged after the ball to grab it before it hit the front yard
. The shade of the elm tree was a welcome relief from the midday late-summer sun. Galileo lay on his side at the foot of the trunk, unbothered by their commotion or his owner's proximity. Unbothered by anything at all, the way it looked. As Jackson walked back toward his friends, dribbling slowly, a car turned into his driveway, drawing their attention.

  A beat-up purple car.

  Ford Escort, naturally.

  Shit.

  He'd been fighting all week not to think about Asia.

  "Hey, isn't that the girl who dumped you before you even made it on a date?" Ryan said.

  "Asshole," Jackson said. Ryan knew full well who Asia was, as well as why she'd broken things off with Jackson.

  "You two back together or something?" Keaton asked.

  "Technically, we were never together."

  "Expecting her?" Ryan asked, picking up his Gatorade, opening the lid, and taking a swig.

  "Nope. You two leaving now?"

  "I gotta shower and get to my mom's house," Keaton said. "You ready?" he asked Ryan, who'd ridden with him in the Subaru parked far enough back on the long driveway that they'd had room to play ball.

  "Ready. Although this could get good." Ryan shot Jackson a smug half grin as Asia's car stopped next to Keaton's.

  They'd gotten together for a meeting this morning regarding the company's software launch later in the week. Keaton was flying out that evening for a week-long conference, and though the three relied heavily on texts and emails to talk business, sometimes they needed to touch base in person.

  "Safe trip," Jackson said to Keaton.

  "I'll update you on Donnegan." He picked up the iced coffee he'd brought with him, and the two made their way down the driveway as Asia got out of the Escort.

  Jackson heard them say hello as they passed.

  She gave a quick, nervous wave in Jackson's direction, then turned her attention to the pavement, allowing him the chance to take in the sight she made as she walked closer. Her chin-length hair was tousled and looked almost white with the bright sun hitting it. She wore dark denim short shorts, a thin, long-sleeved top in orange and pink, orange tennis shoes to match, but what he noticed more than the array of colors was the bare stretch of her toned legs. He remembered all too well how it'd felt to have them wrapped around his waist.