Splintered Courage

by J. E. Sawyer

  There is a side door that leads to the shop area. This place is huge! All of the guys seem to have their own massive toolboxes. Each bay has its own hydraulic lift, except for the last one which serves as a dead stall. What I can’t believe though is how clean it is. It’s like no work has ever been done here. They seem to take great care of this place.

  “Wow Dad, I’ve never seen such an immaculate shop before,” I tell Garret. This earns me chuckles from each of them.

  “We do try to take care of it, there is a lot of blood sweat and tears in this place. We all take care of it because it’s important to all of us,” Garret explains.

  Deciding that’s enough shop talk until tomorrow, we head out and head back towards the park. We’ve been gone longer than I realized, it’s already early evening well past lunch time.

  When we arrive back at the house Weston and Jason are waiting for us. Neither looks very happy, apparently, they were waiting on us to get back to eat. Hey, I didn’t ask them to. No need to send the scowls my way. They are big boys, they can take care of themselves. I figure Jason wouldn’t want to eat with us anyway.

  “Hey guys, since it’s already starting to get late let’s just hold out for dinner,” Garret suggests. All he gets is several grumbles in response. This is fine with me, it will give me a little time to rest and then clean up before we go. We walked around a little more today than I thought. A nap isn’t such a bad idea.

  I wake up about an hour later and go the bathroom to comb my hair and touch up my makeup. I decide to wear jeans and the same black sleeveless top I wore when I ate with Garret on the first day.

  Shortly after, I hear a soft knock at my door. “Gemma?”

  I open the door and I am momentarily lost for words. Weston is leaning against the wall, with one leg over the other and his arms crossed against his chest. He’s wearing medium wash jeans, a dark green long sleeve button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. The green in his shirt makes his eyes dance like balls of kryptonite. That is probably what they will be too, my kryptonite.

  “Are you ready?” He asks with that intense stare of his.

  “Yeah,” I say with a hand laid out for him to lead the way. We head downstairs. Everyone is waiting in similar dress as Weston. I’m glad I decided to go ahead change clothes.

  This time we all take Weston’s black H2 Hummer. This thing is massive, with black rims and trim it’s rather intimidating to other vehicles.

  Weston hops in the driver seat and offers me the front passenger seat. I feel kind of strange taking it. Garret should really have it, not just because he’s the oldest out of all of us and somewhat the leader, but because he’s my dad. I tell him as much, but he flat out refuses.

  Weston pulls into a spot in front of Amilifi’s. Italian it is tonight. Not that I’m complaining. I’m pretty much game for anything.

  We walk in and wait to be seated. This is a happening place for late on a Sunday. The hostess is rather friendly as she takes us to a large table in the middle of the room. I am seated with Garret on my left, Weston is on my right. Across from me is Chandler with Jake to his left which puts him also beside Weston. Jason is between Garret and Chandler. Jason still has the scowl he hasn’t managed to get rid of since I first met him.

  I just can’t hep myself. I lean over to Weston and hold my hand up to the side of my mouth to fake whisper “Is it just me, or does Jason have RBF?”

  “RBF?” Weston asks with a crease between his brows showing his confusion.

  “Yeah RBF, it’s a pretty serious condition. I don’t think it’s contagious but I could be wrong. He should really have that looked at. RBF, you know…Resting Bitch Face,” I reply with as straight of a face as I can manage.

  Weston throws his head back and bellows out in deep laughter that makes my belly full of flutter bugs. The rest of the table joins in. Jake can’t catch his breath. Jason sits there with his elbows on the table and his hands in front of his mouth which fail to hide his wide smile. The tension seems to drift away from him.

  The food is great just like Chandler said it would be. I can see why everyone likes this place. With it’s good food, soft tunes, low lights and easy atmosphere.

  Weston

  I can’t help but stare at Gemma all throughout dinner. It’s nearly impossible to take my eyes off of her. She just has this infectious spirit about her. She’s easy to be around and has yet to call me out on my brooding behavior. I can’t say the same for Jason. That shit was hilarious. He deserved it too. Even if he didn’t realize he was doing it, he was making her uncomfortable and possibly unwelcome. She easily defused it though. It allowed all us a glimpse at her fire just under the surface.

  I can’t help but stare at her long dark blondish hair, delicate features. When she smiles my heart does a little flip. I want her smile to stay there. I want to always see her happy like that. I’ve barely said anything to her since she’s arrived. I’m not much one for words, but I don’t want to be too forward and scare her away either. If she really knew how I felt she would probably take off. Since I first laid eyes on her I knew. I knew without a doubt that she was mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.

  But she will….

  Garret

  I sit here and observe my little family. They chatter amongst themselves. A few jabs thrown in here and there in jest. Everyone seems happy. Laughing, relaxed, carefree. I finally feel complete. Gemma is what has been missing from my life for nearly two decades. She is a piece of me and her mother. I wish she had a chance to know her mother. I was young and dumb when we got together. Not that I was dumb for seeing her, but dumb for leaving. If I had known then what I know now, not just her passing but life in general, I would have never left. Or, I would have wrapped her up and taken her with me.

  However, I might not have my family I have now. These guys all need me, or at least they did at one point in time. I need them just as much. They can all make it just fine now, but they were once lost. Each has their own story to tell and none of them are to be taken lightly. Then there’s my sweet Gemma. I know I can’t change the past, but I will always make it a point to be here for her from now on. I’m not letting her go. I wish I knew what she was thinking. She seems to taking everything in stride. For all I know she could have one hell of a poker face, but I doubt it though. I think she has enough Bradford blood to voice her concerns. Just like she did with Jason. That shit was hilarious. It’s also what he needed. Jason is loyal to a fault, but that loyalty isn’t just given away. It’s not that he doesn’t like Gemma or that he has a problem with her, it just takes him a little longer to come around and to trust people. It was the same with Chandler. Now that bunch is thick as thieves. I love them all and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Gemma

  Monday morning comes way too soon. It seems like I just laid my head down to rest. I can feel my nerves starting to fester all over again. Little flutter bugs merrily dancing about…I think I’m going to be sick.

  “Rein it in Gemma, you’ve done this before. It’s going to be ok,” I tell myself.

  A new job, at least I’ve already met everyone and I’ve seen where I’m going to be working. It’s not like it’s something I haven’t done before. I liked my job at the old shop. It’s more than that though, I don’t know if I’m nervous about starting the job, or if I’m afraid I’m going to let Garret down. Probably a little bit of both. He seems to have a lot of faith in me.

  I hop in the shower and get ready. The warm water is like a soothing balm to the bugs in my belly. I let myself relax. Breathe. I finish my shower and get ready for the day.

  With one last look in the mirror, “Let’s do this.”

  When I get down stairs everyone is bustling out the door. Garret gives me a quick side hug and tells me he will see me at the shop. I guess I’m left to my own devices then. It doesn’t look like anyone had breakfast. I’m not sure what the hurry is, it’s not like anyone is in danger of being late.

  Humph

/>   Man, I didn’t realize how much I missed my car. The old Nova carries I piece of my soul, a piece I didn’t realize I was missing until we got reacquainted. I drive the few short miles to the shop and it hits me, “Bea’s Beans”.

  Whoop, Whoop

  I almost forgot already. I can almost taste the rich bitter smoothness of pick me up in a cup. I could really use that right now.

  I park in my assigned parking space and head next door to the coffee shop. I take a deep breathe. This place smells amazing. I can’t help but do a little happy dance in my head. Just in my head, ain’t no way I’m doing it where people can actually see me.

  “What can I get you dear?” The sweetest looking little old woman in the history of old women asks from behind the counter.

  She has on a floral mock dress covered in a simple apron with the “Bea’s Beans” logo across the chest. Her gray hair is up in a bun and her rosy cheeks remind me of a chipmunk. I just want to pinch them. She patiently waits while I make my decision.

  “Um, I think I’ll take a dozen of the cinnamon rolls and half of dozen of the Bavarian cream bear claws and six large coffees to go,” I tell her.

  “Sure, thing dear,” she says as she starts boxing up the gooey cinnamon goodness that’s covered in thick cream cheese icing. I’m probably drooling, I wipe my mouth, yep, I’m drooling a little. I’m in too much of a sugar trance to care.

  She places two boxes on the counter and a drink tray full of coffee and a bag of little creamers and sugar. I settle the bill and head next door.

  I stumble in the office, after fighting with the door since my hands are full of what smells to be a piece of Heaven. I’m shocked to find all of the guys sitting around the office. Staring at me. Or, staring at what’s in my hands. Ok, well it looks like both. After a beat, Chandler shakes it off and goes to help me with the boxes. Being the foodie, he is, I’m sure he’s curious.

  We place the food and coffee the counter and I feel a presence behind. I slowing look over my shoulder and about knock everything over. Every one of them are hovering behind me and Chandler with some very serious expressions.

  “Oh, my freaking geez, give somebody a heart attack would ya?” I grab my chest and will my heart to slow down a little bit.

  No one says anything. They just stand there and stare. It’s really starting to freak me out. What in the hell are they doing?

  “Go ahead and help yourselves. There’s cream and sugar in the bag.” I say to no one in particular as I go to put my purse under the desk.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” someone says. Then it’s absolute chaos. Thank the Lord for small miracles because I moved just in time. I decide to just wait until its safe before I grab my own. Garret makes his way over to me, he decided to let them fizzle out first too.

  He wraps an arm around my shoulders and gives me a kiss on the head, “You didn’t have to do this, but we all really appreciate it. You’ll now have all their hearts forever.”

  I give him a chuckle and shake my head. Boys. I grab a roll and a cup of coffee just as Jason acts as though he going to take it away.

  I jerk it back and turn away, “I will stab you,” I warn him with faux seriousness. I guess it isn’t just the boys.

  My first morning has gone by smoothly and rather quickly. We’ve seem to fall into a comfortable rhythm, like I’ve been here all along. I haven’t run into any major hiccups so far, and if I do I’m sure we’ll figure it out. As far as a new job is concerned, I couldn’t have asked for things to be any better. Talk about a relief, one less thing to stress about. Who am I kidding? This whole ordeal has gone better than anyone could have imagined, almost too good. Life isn’t some fru fru fairytale, I probably shouldn’t think like this, but you know what they say “hope for the best but expect the worst.”

  In between customers, I work on organizing all the files and making sure they are on the computer instead of just handwritten. I work on compiling a customer profile system. I’ve looked at these files until my eyes feel like are crossing, time for a break. I figure it’s time for a potty break, a cold soda and some fresh air while it’s quiet at the moment. I make my way to the restroom; my thoughts are elsewhere until I’m practically flattened on my ass.

  Stunned, I look up from a pair of black boots, worn denim, black t-shirt stretched across a massive chest and into a pair of emerald green eyes. Those eyes hold my own. Those eyes made a star appearance in my dreamworld last night.

  With a little furrow between the brow Weston snaps out of the moment, “I am so sorry Gemma,” as he gets down on his haunches and offers me a large calloused hand to help me up. I take it and we both stand. The small hall leading to the restroom only allows us to be a few inches apart. I haven’t taken my eyes from his, almost as though his eyes won’t let me. They arrest me, hold me captive. They create a burn deep in my chest, branding me. I can feel it. I can almost hear the sizzle. I wonder if he can too. He still has ahold of my hand, which is wedged in between us. I am close enough to breathe in his scent. It reminds of the Abercrombie store in the mall, strong, steady, masculine. I take it into my lungs, mentally making a pocket for it, so I can keep it there. Oh geez, if he could hear my thoughts he would think I was a looney psycho. He definitely wouldn’t be looking at me the way he is right now.

  Weston

  I wasn’t paying attention, I’m paying attention now.

  I pay attention to her soft hand in mine.

  I pay attention to how there is only a few inches separating us.

  I pay attention to the rise and fall of her chest that becomes more and more rapid as we stand here.

  I pay attention to the storming grey that has swept me up and held me prisoner.

  I pay attention to the pink pouty lips…

  “Gemma…” I breathe out as I bring my other hand up to the side of her face and continue my hand down to her neck. I tilt her chin towards me with my thumb. Her skin is so soft beneath my rough hands. She has yet to say anything. I know I should let her go. I’m not so sure she wants me to. I close the distance between us and ghost my lips against hers. I see the storm continuing to brew and churn. Oh, but this is the storm of a different kind. I continue, with a little more force as I start to work my lips against hers. I let go of her hand to grasp the other side of her neck allowing our bodies to become flush. Her eyelids flutter and a soft noise escapes the back of her throat. That’s all I need. I run my hand to the back of her head, entangling my fingers in her soft hair and the other to the small of her back as I pull her to me. I can’t get her close enough. My heart pounds in my chest, it only seems to beat like this for her. I run my tongue along the seam of her lips as she opens them in invitation. Our tongues run against each other as our lips dance. I’m breathing as though I’ve run a marathon. I have to make myself break away as I lay my forehead against hers.

  “Weston…” she breathes as if she’s been holding that breath forever. Her body relaxes. I hold my hands on either side of her face and place a lingering kiss on her forehead as I breathe her in. As much as I would love to see where this goes, I have work that’s got to be done, and I’d rather not have an audience. I leave her in the hall and head back into the shop.

  Gemma

  Holy Moses, what in the heck just happened? He kissed me. I can’t believe he kissed me. I hold my hand to my chest and lean back against the wall willing my heart to slow down. I can’t believe that just happened. Does he realize that is my first real kiss? I lay my head back and re-live the whole encounter in my head. I bring my finger tips to my lips. I can still fill the soft pillow of his lips as they consumed mine like he was starved. I can feel the hard lines of his body against mine.

  I make my way to the bathroom on shaky legs. I finish my business, but my mind is in a fog. Did that really happen or was it a fantasy that took over and just seemed real. I look at my reflection in the mirror as I wash my hands. My cheeks are red, and the grey in my eyes is brighter. My lips are full and bruised. Oh, it most definitely hap
pened. I smile and head for my soda and fresh air. Though I’m not so sure I want fresh air. I want to keep Weston’s scent trapped with me for a little longer.

  The rest of my day continues much like the morning. Steady with plenty to keep me busy for the time being. But, mind continues to drift off the encounter in the hallway. I haven’t seen Weston since. I can’t help but wonder if he is hiding from me. Maybe he regrets it and is disgusted by me. I don’t know, but I’m not going to seek him out like a lost puppy. I might not have much experience in the men department but I’m not naive either. To me, that was my real first kiss. I’ve had pecks and fumbling here and there, but nothing like that. I’ve always had so much on my plate, between working, taking care of grams, and the tight leash she liked to keep on me, there wasn’t much time for boys. I think she made it her mission to keep me under the radar, away from as many people as possible. I could be wrong but it sure does seem that way, if that was the case, then why? What was she hiding from, or more likely who was she hiding from? She was not a weak woman, nor was she a push over. She had a fire streak a mile wide and Heaven help whoever got in her way. She would burn you down. So, whatever was holding her back had to be pretty important for her to tuck tail when it came to me, and I don’t think it was Garret either. He has a soft spot for me, and I think he did for my mom as well. He’s a gentle soul who would never wish me any harm. I know this for a fact. So, again, who could have ruffled her feathers? I guess I will never know, but I will always wonder.