Anna and Jackson

by Tigris Eden

  “Mama--” I say cautiously, but she cuts me off.

  “Listen here. Be you– not what you think you should be, or what others think you should be. If you feel you belong in New York, well then you do. But Jackson is here. Beauville is in his blood. He’s rooted. Bought a house that needs a family, not a bachelor pad. You can have it all, baby if you just give a little more.”

  Isn’t that what I’m already doing? Giving and more giving, while he takes.

  “It feels like he’s taking so much more though, Mama, and he hasn’t even told me he loves me. I told him, and what I got was a ‘we will talk when we’re at home’.”

  My mother’s eyes warm while she shakes her head slowly.

  “Have I been that bad of an example? Love isn’t the words. It’s the actions. Sure, it’s nice to hear them, but you don’t need it. I ain’t talking about grand gestures either, baby. It’s those little things we take for granted. Somewhere along the way, you’ve been showing your love, and just like you, Jackson is doing the same thing. You need to open your eyes and your heart. You won’t miss things if you stay open to receive those blessings you keep blocking. Keep doing it, child. Jackson will give you the words, but I promise he’s already given you his heart. That man loves you, girl. Never doubt it. Mama knows best.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  My mother stands, patting me gently on the thigh, so I lower my legs, allowing her to pass. It’s dark now. I don’t have my cell; I left it in the kitchen. I know Jackson has called me no less than a dozen times. But I’m not concerned with the phone. I’m still at odds with what I know and what I feel. I look out into the night, hearing the cicadas and tracking the lightning bugs as I reflect on all my mother’s shared.

  Treat Cavanaugh is my brother; Wood is my cousin, which is strange, as I’ve never connected the dots between the Cavanaugh’s and the Storme’s. Talk about secrets. Joey is my sister-in-law and their baby is my niece or nephew. Dear Lord in heaven, Jackson and I are related by marriage. How does that work exactly? Welcome to the lifestyles of the drama-ridden South.

  Things are so unreal, I know it’s time to pull my head out of my ass and make some choices. Smart, adult choices. My mother is right. I need to pick one home and not travel between two. If Jackson and I are going to make a true go of it, there has to be a middle ground. So I said the words, and he hadn’t. My mother’s right, love is about action not words.

  Walking into the kitchen, I pass my mother on the way to the bathroom. I kiss her cheek and quietly thank her for the talk.

  “Welcome, baby.”

  In the bathroom, I look at myself in the mirror. My eyes are puffy from crying, and I’ve chewed my lips to bits. I could have handled today with Jackson differently. Sometimes we say things we don’t mean. I fully admit I’m flawed, imperfect, as are my emotions.

  “Annabelle Macon, get your shit together, girl, before you lose a good man.” I tell my reflection.

  Taking off my glasses, I splash water on my face and pat it dry. I wonder what Jackson is doing. He’s either at home waiting for me so he can scream the house down, or he’s with Treat and Joey.

  “Mama, I’m going home, won’t be staying.” I yell out to the kitchen.

  “Figured as much. Go get your man. You can take my car, just drop it off tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I holler back as I make my way out the door, grabbing her keys on the table in the entryway as I head out.

  I hop into my mom’s Toyota and try to think of how I go about making today’s debacle better. Compromise is a word I know well. My mom’s right. I have to make a choice. When I pull up to our house, I have everything planned out. What I’m going to say and how I’m going to show Jackson I’m serious about us. I’d move here permanently and let go of the apartment back in New York. I can work from home and freelance jobs occasionally. That was the original plan last summer when I’d come home to visit my mother for the holidays. I only hope my new boss will be accommodating. The house is dark when I drive up. Jackson isn’t home yet.

  I call Joey on my cell, noticing I have three missed calls and one voicemail. All from Jackson.

  “Joey.”

  “Hey, where have you been? My brother’s been trying to reach you.”

  “Had to work through some issues.”

  Joey is silent for a moment before she begins talking again. “Well, you should come over. Jackson’s here with Vivian and Ava. I’m sorry Anna, but turns out the little girl may be his, still pending results of course, but the math is right.”

  In the background, there is laughter and Vivian’s voice. “Oh, Jax, don’t be silly with her like that.” I hear on the other end of the phone. Then the sound of a little girl squealing.

  “No, I don’t want to interrupt.” My heart deflates a little.

  Any minute I’m going to throw up. Not because the little girl could be his, but because he’s at Joey’s, with Vivian and their daughter, like a ready-made family. Panic is starting to settle in. Images of Jackson and Vivian are vivid and ripping my soul to shreds. The woman is trying her hardest to destroy what little bond I’ve managed with Jackson already. I know he wants kids, and now he could already have one.

  Jackson’s gravelly voice replaces Joey’s.

  “Anna, get your ass over here. You know I’m going to have words for you right. I tried calling and you didn’t answer.”

  “Yes, Jackson, I know.”

  “Good, get over here.”

  Part of me wants to go, just so I could hug Treat and look him in the eye. He’s my brother and knowing makes me feel like I could have a real relationship with him, but another part of me feels like an outsider, intruding on family.

  “How about I just be here when you’re done visiting with them?”

  “Anna. Ass. Here. Now.” His voice rumbles before the line goes dead.

  Part of me wants to defy him, show him he can’t just bark out orders, and expect me to obey. There are things Jackson and I need to talk about. The forced negativity between us only makes things more awkward. I can’t act as if everything is all right. It’s not in me to put on a show. I am not going to do some song and dance to try to make folks feel comfortable. Especially right now. Not when my emotions are all over the place. I know my limits.

  I walk inside the house and change into a pair of comfy jeans. I order takeout again and grab my laptop. There are photos I could be editing right now. But I know how Jackson is. He’s pushy and a spoiled ass brat. I help contribute to that habit of his. I give in easily and always allow him to steer the conversation. If he wants me at Joey’s I’ll go, but it will be when I am good and ready to go. Twenty minutes later, the food’s arrived, but I’m not hungry. I can’t eat. Not when my stomach is doing flips. I put the food in the fridge, and jump in my mother’s car. I have a bad feeling in my gut and a small voice in my head telling me to sit this round out, and deal with the wrath of Jackson when he does come home. I don’t. Instead, I’m on my way to what could very well be a bad situation.

  Jackson handed the phone over to his sister. She turned mean eyes on him before turning and heading back to the family room. He knew he’d fucked up, but there was nothing left to do but fix it. He just wasn’t sure how he was going to go about making it right between him and Anna. Ava had wanted to see her aunt’s house, and Jackson didn’t want to disappoint the little girl her first day in town.

  He had a daughter. A daughter. It wasn’t at all something he’d planned, at least not with Vivian. The woman didn’t have a maternal bone in her body. With Anna, he knew without a doubt he wanted to start his family as soon as possible. Wanted to see her belly swell with their child.

  He didn’t know the Ava, but it was his job to get to know her. He was pissed at Vivian. He was even more pissed at his mother for suggesting he marry the woman out of necessity for the child. He’d still do right by the little girl. That was a given. She didn’t look anything like him, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t his. Anna didn�
�t look anything like her father, but she did look like Wood. Those two could even be twins. Until he had proof either way, he was going to do the right thing and at least try to be civil.

  “Anna coming?” Joey asked, taking a sip of her orange juice.

  “She’d better come.”

  “Or what, Jackson?”

  “Or she’ll deal with me.”

  Treat walked into the room, eyes on him, and Jackson knew his friend was going to comment.

  “Sounds a little high-handed to me, Jackson.” Treat tagged his wife around the waist and pulled her in for a hug.

  “Like you’re not high-handed with Joey.”

  Treat grinned. “Only when she’s been bad.”

  “Treat Cavanaugh!” His sister hissed a blush obvious on her face. He did not want to hear that. Not about his sister. “TMI, man, TMI.”

  Little Ava came running, grabbing Jackson around the leg. “I’m getting sleepy. Can mommy and I sleep at your house?”

  He bent to eye level with the little girl. He could see how this was going to go down with him and Vivian. She would try to use Ava to cause trouble or gain attention.

  “No, sweetheart, you, and your mommy can’t stay over. Anna is there and I want you two to meet before there are any sleepovers. And when and if we do a sleep over it will just be you, Anna, and me. Understand?”

  She shook her little head. “We’re a family. That’s what mommy says and Margo. They said family sticks together.”

  Joey and Treat both looked at him with sympathy in their eyes. He didn’t know how to respond to the little girl. Instead of answering, he just smiled and suggested something else.

  “How about I come and take you out to lunch tomorrow with Anna? We can go to the park afterward.”

  “No, I don’t like Anna,” she whines.

  “You haven’t even met her. How can you not like her, Ava?”

  “Mommy says she’s a homewecker.”

  “A what?”

  “Homewecker.”

  Vivian came into the room as little Ava tried to repeat herself. Jackson figured she was trying to say home-wrecker. Which was not true. If anything, Vivian was trying to destroy lives. Anna should have been here by now, but he was glad she hadn’t made it yet. The current conversation would end up being one more thing to add fuel to their already burning issues.

  “Ava darling, what did mommy tell you about telling tales?”

  The little girl looked over at her mother, clearly confused.

  “I’m not, mommy. You said lying is bad. I wouldn’t tell my new daddy any lies. Not ever.” She was shaking her head back and forth, grabbing hold of his arm.

  “It’s okay, Ava. I’m just going to have a talk with your mother. You go with Treat and Joey to the living room. Get your shoes so I can take you and Mommy back to Nana Storme’s house.”

  “Okay.”

  She popped her little thumb in her mouth and walked away with Treat and Joey.

  Vivian laughed.

  “I don’t know where she gets these ideas from. Must be Margo.”

  Jackson stood. He knew exactly where they came from. “Oh, I doubt it’s all Margo. But it stops now. I don’t want you putting ideas into Ava’s head about us being a family. That’s not going to happen. You’re her mom, and I’m her dad. And that last part hasn’t even been proven yet. Once I get the results from the paternity test, then we can start planning the little girl’s future. I’ll want partial custody if she is my daughter.”

  “You won’t get partial, Jackson. It’s all or nothing.” Vivian asserted.

  “All or nothing?”

  Was the bitch crazy?

  “Yes. All or nothing. You either have us both, or none. I said I was sorry. You and this Anna person can’t be serious. She’s so… so.”

  “Careful what you say next, Vivian,” Jackson growled. He was not going to have her disrespecting Anna.

  “What, Jackson, what could you possibly do to me? You should be more concerned about what I can do to you. To your sister, and to Treat. You think you’re so untouchable because you’re the Sheriff. Well, honey, you’re not.”

  “What are you saying, Vivian? What do my sister and her husband have to do with this?”

  She smiled. Her eyes narrowing and Jackson wasn’t sure what she was up to, but he didn’t like it.

  “Oh, I remember the two of you tag teaming a certain someone, and while on assignment. It was all caught on film. Or are you barefoot and backwater country like they say? I mean, maybe Joey knows, because I hear you Southerners are all about keeping it in the family.”

  Jackson took a step closer to Vivian, anger turning into fury. How the hell would she even know about what he and Treat did back in the day? That had been a longtime ago. Before Treat even started messing with his sister, and right before he met Vivian.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I suggest before you make any empty demands, you may want to remember just who it is you’re trying to fuck with.”

  “Oh I know, Sheriff. Trust me when I say, I know.”

  Jackson grabbed her by the arm and jerked her towards him. He was done playing games with her.

  “You’re playing with fire, Vivian.”

  “It’s you striking the match, Jax. Your mother was right. You need to do the right thing. Otherwise, this whole situation will blow up in your face.”

  She looked to where his hand gripped her arm, and then back at him, her gaze calculating as the two of them stared at each other.

  “You’re into manhandling women now I see. Does Anna know about your temper?”

  “I’m taking you to my mother’s. I better not hear from you until after we get the test results.”

  Vivian leaned forward, and then their mouths were sealed. Jackson tore his mouth from hers just as Anna walked through the door. He knew exactly what she saw, and exactly what she would think.

  Give and Take: Chapter 8

  I should have stayed home.

  No, if I had stayed home, I would have never walked in on this. Jackson’s mouth on Vivian’s.

  “Annabelle.” Jackson addresses me calmly while walking in my direction. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to react, but silence isn’t one of them. Vivian is just standing there; she doesn’t even have the good grace to try to run. Nope. She stands there and shrugs. The kind of shrug which implies their actions couldn’t be helped or, the kind that has me believing Jackson and her are an item now.

  I swear I’m not a mean person. I don’t fight. My last fight was in sixth grade when London Fairchild called me a nappy-headed dyke. Back then, I was a little standoffish. Now, I pride myself on trying to remain cool. The three C’s, my mother would say. Cool. Calm. Collected. Only I drop all three of the C’s and go straight for crazy. Like flaming crazy. You know why Southern men say Southern women are crazy? It’s because we are. You push us into a corner, we will claw and scratch our way to freedom. But when you corner a Southern woman, a Southern-black-woman, who’s had nothing but shit her entire life from the uppity-no-sense-having-folks-of-Beauville-constantly-talking-shit-behind-your-back-cause-they-think-they-know-your-sad-tale-Southern-woman! Well that just helps me go from Southern-to-Country crazy-in zero point one seconds. We don’t even get to the full second. We just go straight for the throat. Right for the kill.

  And that’s exactly what I do.

  I shove Jackson out of the way so hard, he stumbles into the end table in the hall, bringing it crashing to the floor. I don’t give him time to recover. I sidestep him and the next thing I know, I’m on top of Vivian. My hands ball into fists, and I go to town on her face. I get in two good hits before I’m lifted off her.

  “Get off me! Get the fuck off me!” I scream. My chest heaves from exerting so much energy, and deep down, I know I messed up in a big way. But Jackson has a way of bringing the crazy out in me. Or is it Vivian? Later, after all of this is said and done, and I have a chance to reflect, I know I’ll be the one who needs to apologiz
e. Right now, I just can’t. I’m too through and too tired to deal with this scene.

  But whoever has a hold of me won’t let me go. Someone’s yelling at me, and I don’t know who. All I know is that I want to maim, murder, and triple kill the skinny bitch in front of me. I want her six feet under. I haven’t done not one single solitary thing to provoke her. Or Jackson for that matter. But it’s clear things are always going to be the same for the man who slept his way across seven parishes. I don’t hold the skills to keep that itch of his from going buck wild.

  “Anna! You need to calm down.”

  “Fucking let me go!” I wail. The tears are streaming fast down my face, and I can’t see anything. But I hear everything. Vivian is crying for Jackson, her little girl is crying for her. Joey wants to know what is going on, and Treat--God bless him--my brother Treat is trying to hold in his laughter.

  My feet hit the ground, and I am ready to turn around and slap the shit out of Jackson, but I stay my hand, catch my breath, and right my tee-shirt. I’m so over this shit. I never behave like this. Ever. Apparently, you do now.

  “Will you just let me explain, woman?” Jackson yells in my face.

  “Fuck no! There’s no explaining this one away, Jax. Not now, not ever. You stay the hell away from me.”

  Jackson puts his hands out as he walks towards me. “You’re making a mistake, Anna.”

  Oh no the hell I’m not. I’m not the one caught kissing my ex. No, I was just the one watching him kiss her.

  “Jax! Look what she did to my face! Aren’t you going to arrest her? She assaulted me! Fucking cunt!” Vivian counters in her feeble attempt at trash talking. If cunt is the best she could do, then I have nothing to worry about in the verbal sparring arena.

  I turn in the direction of Vivian who is wiping the blood off her face, and smile before looking Jackson in the eye. “Yeah, Jax. Arrest me.”

  He shakes his head, and walks towards Vivian, as if I’m the one who is the horrible person. I watch in horror as he tilts her face up into the hall light, checking the damage I’ve done to her face.