The Davis Years (Indigo)

by Green, Nicole

  He cast an ice-glazed gaze at her, and she finally understood. “Okay. I’ll be in my—in the room if you need me.” Placing her hands to her mouth, she hurried to the door.

  She turned to face him, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m going to go get settled in. Take all the time you need. But please, come talk to me when you’re ready. Don’t you think this family’s been through enough heartbreak?”

  “Whose fault is that?” He turned his back to the door until he heard it close.

  Chapter 28

  Tuesday night, Jemma and Mary sat at the kitchen table with mugs of tea. Now that it was all over, she was able to tell everything without being concerned that Mary would needlessly worry about her. Jemma went over what had happened when she visited Larry at the prison. She also told Mary about the interview she’d had with the parole board representative earlier that day.

  “You were right. I really do feel better now that I’ve dealt with everything.” Jemma sat back in her chair and took a sip of her peppermint tea.

  “You don’t look like you feel much better.” Mary spoke the first words she had since Jemma had told her all that had happened.

  Her smile faltered as her mind went back to that morning at Davis’s, but she refused to admit defeat.

  “It’s okay to admit you want to stay. You know I’d love to have you here.”

  “I know. But I want to go.”

  “Lynette may be dead and gone, but you’re still letting her run you off, I see. That woman sure has some kind of power over you.”

  “Lynette doesn’t have anything to do with this. This decision is for me.” Jemma tensed. She was tired of people accusing her of running away.

  Mary looked unfazed by Jemma’s reaction. She looked at her mug and then up at Jemma. “If you say so. But no matter what you say or do, I’m going to be right here. Whether you go to Florida or Timbuktu, there will always be a place for you in my heart and in my house.”

  “I appreciate that, Mary. I really do. But I have this opportunity. To go to Florida and start over. I can start fresh now that I’ve dealt with everything that happened before.”

  Mary sipped her tea. “Whatever’s in your heart is what you should do.”

  “Florida’s in my heart.”

  Mary smiled and patted Jemma’s hand.

  Maybe Davis was also in her heart, but that couldn’t be helped. She had those memories of him from the past couple of weeks, and no one could take them from her. She had much better memories of him than she had the first time she’d left. And wasn’t that all she’d expected out of the deal? A few happy moments and some good memories? They’d ended a little earlier than she’d expected. So what?

  ***

  Wednesday afternoon, Davis went to his room as soon as he got home. Lydia followed him in. He needed to talk to her, so that was convenient.

  “I spent the whole day cleaning. What do you think?” Lydia beamed sunshine at him with her huge smile.

  “House looks nice,” Davis said before rubbing his hand across his face.

  “Thanks.” The smile slowly fell from her face.

  “I just came from Seth’s office. Cole and Ashby are talking to the bank they want to use. Things look good for the loan. Seth says the papers should be drawn up soon. Probably in less than a week from now.” Davis toyed with his keys, glanced up at her occasionally.

  “You’re still thinking of moving out? It’s such a silly idea, Davis. There’s plenty of room for both of us here.”

  “That’s what I was out doing. Seeing Seth and running other errands. Getting packing supplies and asking around at apartment complexes and places. There are a few trailers for rent, too. Saw some adds on the bulletin board at the laundromat when I was walking around town.”

  “So you haven’t found a place yet?” Lydia looked a little too hopeful about that.

  Davis gave a small frown. “I have some leads.”

  “You don’t even have a place to go.”

  “I’m moving out next week and that’s all there is to it.”

  “I’m only trying to make you see that it makes sense for you to stay, Davis.”

  He tightened his grip on his keys. “I don’t want anything to do with you. I can hate you if I want and you can’t blame me for that. I’m entitled to that after all you did to me.”

  She looked at him as if he’d stabbed her in the gut. Her shoulders sagged forward and she walked to the door. She paused for a second without turning around. Then she walked out, quietly closing the door behind her.

  Davis sat on the corner of his bed after she left the room. He had his fist pressed to his mouth and a bad taste inside of it. He couldn’t believe he felt like he’d been out of line. But he also couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just said something incredibly stupid.

  He got up and paced the room, the feeling gnawing, eating away at him. Finally, he groaned and walked next door to Bill’s room. He still had trouble thinking of the room as belonging to her.

  Her words had somehow gotten to him. He began to see her from a new angle. A more human one. As a victim of circumstance creating three new victims of circumstance. He still had a lot of things to work out when it came to his feelings for her, but maybe moving out wasn’t the best option. He wouldn’t work much out by avoiding her.

  Besides, he really had earned a right to stay. After taking care of Bill for years, he had a right to every square inch of that house. And if Bill hadn’t run him out of the house, why move out because of Lydia? She couldn’t be any worse to live with than him. Definitely not.

  He stood in the open doorway. She slouched next to the window that faced the front lawn, staring out of it. He knocked on the open door. She turned and gave him a weak smile, waving him into the room.

  Stalling for time, he looked around Bill’s room. He hadn’t been in there since the funeral except to get Bill’s important papers for Seth. The room was nearly unrecognizable, and that was a good thing. For one thing, he could see the floor, and it was vacuumed. He was surprised she’d been able to find the vacuum; he certainly didn’t know where it was. She’d taken down the green sun-faded curtains and had draped light blue fabric over the windows.

  “I’m going to make curtains out of that. Eventually,” she said, breaking the silence, when she noticed him staring at the windows.

  He nodded, his gaze traveling over the mint green sheets on the bed and the dusted surfaces of the desk and wardrobe. The only things that seemed out of place now were her suitcases lined up against the wall at the back of the room.

  “Looks good in here,” Davis said, sitting on the corner of the dresser.

  “Thanks.” She stood with her back to the window, looking across the room at him.

  “I guess I came in here to apologize. So maybe I should get to it.” Davis stared down at his fingernails, wondering if they’d always been that dirty and he’d just never taken the time to notice.

  Lydia nodded and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “It’s hard. I want to be angry at you, but what’s the point? I mean, it’s not like I have much family. I guess I should try to save what little there is.”

  “I would have been willing to do anything to hear you say that.” She wiped at the corners of her eyes with her jacket sleeve. Davis kept the A/C up pretty high, and he guessed she wasn’t as hot natured as him.

  “I don’t wanna go through all this bull anymore.” Davis ran his hands through his hair and then raked them over his face before letting his head rest in them.

  Lydia walked over and hugged him to her. “I know, Davis. I know.”

  “I need to talk to Cole and Ashby, I guess.”

  “We could call them together.”

  “Nah. I need to go see them.” He pulled back from the hug. They were leaving in a few hours. He needed to say what he had to say before they did. Face to face.

  ***

  When Cole first opened the door, Davis thought he would slam it right back from the loo
k on his face.

  “What do you want, Davis? Seth called, everything’s set for the closing. We’re moving as fast as we can,” Cole said. “We’ll be out of your way soon.”

  “I just want to talk,” Davis said. “Can I come in?”

  Cole heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I guess.”

  Davis walked in and saw open suitcases on both beds. “You guys heading out?”

  “Tomorrow. We have to get back to work.” Cole put extra emphasis on the word work.

  Davis forced himself to remember that he hadn’t come over to fight and that Cole was naturally a jerk. That was just a fact of life. He sat in a chair near the window and drummed his fingertips against the table in front of him. “Where’s Ashby?”

  “He ran out to pick up dinner. I sent him to that rib place in Ashland. Man, being close to that place is one of the few things I miss about this dump town.” Cole scratched the back of his neck and took a seat on the edge of the bed closest to Davis. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “I’m staying in the house.” Davis gulped in a breath and exhaled slowly through his nose. “I’m gonna work on things with Mom.”

  “You’ve finally come to your senses.”

  “But I want all of us to work on things.” He turned toward his brother. “With each other, Cole. You, me, Ashby, and Mom. We should try to save what we have left of a family.”

  “What is this? You still thinking we’re trying to dump Lydia off on you and this is your insurance against it?”

  “No, Cole. You’re such an asshole.” Davis focused on his mission—the reason he’d come there. “But you’re also my brother. And if you meant what you said the other night about trying to reach out, well, I’m not pushing you away anymore. Either prove me wrong or prove me right about wanting all of us to be able to put this behind us. Step up or step out.”

  “She’s a bum and a leech. I’m not asking you to keep her there any longer than it takes her to get herself together. My conscience wouldn’t let me throw her out on the street. Why should I want anything to do with her? Why should any of us?”

  “That’s what I thought about Bill when I first moved home. I wanted to be in and out of that house as fast as I could. Stay a month at most, I told myself. But the day I came home from PT and saw him passed out on the living room floor, all that changed. That was right around the time his kidneys started failing. I realized that there are things more important than being angry and proving a point. I almost forgot that when Mom came here. All those feelings about her I’d buried came to the surface, and it was ugly. You know what? I’m going to try not to forget that anymore.”

  Cole was quiet for a long moment. When he looked at Davis again, his brown eyes were tired and unfocused. “You really believe she deserves another chance?”

  “I have to believe she can change. How else can I hold out hope for me?”

  “You’re nothing like her.”

  “I’m no saint, either.”

  “Point taken.”

  They laughed.

  “Besides, it’s almost like therapy. I think trying to understand her will help me understand myself better. I hope so anyway.” Maybe if he ever got another chance at love, he wouldn’t screw it the hell up the way he had with Jemma. Maybe it was possible for him to become a better person. He had plenty of time to work on it because he wouldn’t be getting over Jemma any time soon—if he ever did.

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “Cole, something kept you from kicking her out on her ass. I’d be willing to bet that same something wants to get to know her and see what she has to say for herself.”

  “This, uh, all this family bonding you want to do, that mean things are cool between us?”

  “I think they’re on their way to being. Really well on their way.”

  “Good. Davis, I gotta tell you, despite all I said the other day, I’ve felt horrible. I just didn’t know what to say to you. I had no idea how to get things back on track between us. I mean after the funeral . . .”

  Davis nodded. The funeral hadn’t been one of his better moments. What kind of son showed up drunk to his father’s funeral and had to be ushered out before the eulogy? The kind of son who had Bill for a father. Still, thinking of that day made Davis feel terrible.

  “Well, I think we can do it, Cole. Pull things back together for all of us,” he said quietly.

  “I hope we can, Davis. I really do.”

  Davis stayed and talked with his brother a little longer before telling him he had to leave. Davis wanted to catch Seth in the office and tell him the news about the house. He knew Seth stayed around the office until at least seven most nights.

  Cole walked him to the door.

  He put a hand on Davis’s shoulder. “So what’s this about a girl, huh? Your neighbor, Ayn, says Jemma was over your house the night before we brought Mom there. Now, would this be the same Jemma you used to talk about all the time when you were in Philly with us?”

  Davis tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Yeah.”

  “What’s going on with that?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Absolutely nothing.” Davis stepped out of the room. It took a lot of effort for him to not let the lie show on his face. He wanted to go to Jemma that minute, but they needed to stay away from each other. She’d been right all along. He wanted her to go to Florida and have a good life—the kind of life he could never give her.

  Cole leaned against the door. “You know, the wife still asks about you. Kids, too. Ashby’s family would be happy to see you, too. Come up sometime and visit us. See your nieces and nephews.”

  Davis nodded. “I think I will.”

  He walked down the breezeway, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. He stared at it all the way down the stairs and was still staring at it as he headed for his car in the parking lot. Finally, as he got in the car, he put it back in his pocket. He made himself realize that calling Jemma wouldn’t bring anything good to either of them.

  Chapter 29

  Jemma spent the night before she left scouring Mary’s house from top to bottom. Cleaning helped her think, and she was trying to make sure everything was in order for her move to Jacksonville. The activity gave her structure that she needed—it allowed her to focus so that her mind wouldn’t stray into dangerous territory.

  The movers had taken everything from storage in South Carolina to her new apartment in Jacksonville. She’d already sent a check to the landlord for her first month’s rent and deposit. She’d done that before leaving South Carolina. Everything was in place for her new beginning. She was finally going to complete her transition to her new and better life in just a few hours.

  Jemma sang along with the lyrics blaring from the stereo in the living room as she scrubbed at the kitchen sink. One good thing about Mary living far from civilization was that she could turn the music up as loud as she wanted to—when Mary wasn’t around.

  Jemma couldn’t remember the last time someone made her feel as whole and at home as Mary did. But Mary had to be wrong. She had good reasons for not staying, didn’t she? She had an amazing job in Florida. And although she’d made her peace with her Derring life, there was nothing in that town to keep her there. Not anything that she could have, anyway.

  Thinking like that wasn’t going to do her any good. She scrubbed harder at the countertop. Frustrated with the song that started playing next, she hurried over to the stereo. She changed the CD from her favorite singer-songwriter compilation to Mary J. Blige. Then she headed to the bathroom, ready to attack the bathtub under the pretense of giving everything a good scouring as a surprise and a thank you to Mary.

  “Not Gon’ Cry” started playing on the stereo and Jemma started bawling. She threw her sponge into the bathtub and stripped off her yellow latex gloves. She pressed her rubber-scented hands to her face and sobbed.

  Thinking about Emily Rose’s words to her before she left for New York and Smoot
h’s words at the prison had filled her with regrets and second guesses. Then, Davis Hill filled her mind. Of all things her mind could have gone to, she thought of the night they’d made love.

  Her first time had been awkward and almost impersonal. It’d been with one of her classmates. They’d gone out a few times and she hadn’t been able to come up with a reason not to sleep with him. He’d been a nice enough guy. Not the best of reasons, but she didn’t have any real regrets about it.

  With Davis, she’d felt like a virgin all over again. Just thinking about his kisses heated her blood. He’d let her know without speaking a word that he belonged to her that night. He’d been hers and only hers. No one would ever make her feel like Davis had again. That wasn’t possible because there was only one Davis.

  Then there was her first and only serious boyfriend. The guy who’d asked her to marry him a few weeks before graduation. He’d been nice enough during the “on” parts of their on-again off-again relationship. But she’d never really felt a click with him. The sex hadn’t been great with him, either, although it hadn’t been as horrible as it had with the first guy.

  Davis was the only one who seemed to want to give more than he wanted to take. Making love with him had been a mistake. The memories of that night were making it almost impossible to stay focused on what was best for her—for both of them, really.

  “It’s not good to want a self-destructive person who almost destroyed me, too.” Jemma said it out loud, as if that would make the words sink in better.

  She scrubbed at a spot on the side of the tub long after it was gone. And after her arm ached with the effort. Until her arm lay trembling and uncooperative against the side of the tub. Then she pressed her hot face to the cool ceramic and cried again.

  Why did she want what she couldn’t have, and shouldn’t want in the first place because it was bad for her? She wanted him so badly that forcing herself toward the right choice made her nauseous. Spending all of that time with him hadn’t been a good idea. But she wouldn’t have changed a moment for anything in the world—well, except maybe for the last, few sad ones.