It’s while I’m thinking of our Frozen parties, Eva slowly trudges closer. I just finished shoveling the walk and feel a little sweat grow on my back. I’m not sure if that’s from the work or from my nerves at seeing Eva again. I’m not sure how I can forgive her for wanting to call Child Protective Services on me. I might. Eventually. But I’m definitely not feeling like it today.
“Hello, Moira.”
I nod at her. “Hi, Eva.”
“You look good.”
She looks more tired than I’ve ever seen her, and I hate to admit it, but I do feel sorry for her. So I say, “You too.”
“Did I see my sons go into your house?”
I nod again.
“How are they?”
“Good. Shane loves his job and Joe’s loving his now.”
She blinks and tears well in her eyes. “I—I don’t know what either of them are doing.”
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head. I thought she at least knew that. “Shane’s working at the community college and Joe’s working at Betty and Glen’s grocery store with me.”
“You’re working now?”
I nod. “Joe and I are in the process of buying it.”
“He wants to buy a grocery store?”
I shrug, trying not to feel defensive at her snide tone. “He found he really liked managing things. And marketing. He’s single-handedly raised our revenue for the last three months. He’s got a great mind for that. I’m sure he gets that from you.”
A tear falls from her eye and she nods with a sad smile. “I never knew he could—he’d want to do such a thing.”
I nod again, feeling—I hate to admit it—pity. My heart is just breaking for her.
“I, ah, I’m going to sell my house.”
“Oh?” I try to smile, holding my snow shovel in one hand. “Got a beautiful one lined up somewhere else in Laramie?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m, ah, moving to Miami. Seems so nice and warm there, more my style and speed.”
“Do Shane or Joe know that?”
She narrows her eyes as she looks past me to my house. “I’m sure they don’t care.”
“No, I’m sure they do.”
She snorts. “Please, Moira, just…please.”
“If you wait here, I’ll go get them. They’ll want to know.”
She purses her lips, looking angrily at me. But then she sighs and another tear drops from her eye. “I—I did this. I did this whole thing. I made a mess of their childhood. I made a mess of my marriage. I did this. They aren’t talking to me because of what I did. I know it. So maybe it’s best just to move on.”
“Don’t give up on them,” I whisper, because I can’t talk much louder. My heart is bleeding for this woman and her boys who are my men. “Please, don’t.”
Her chin trembles. “I—I’m not giving up. I’m their mommy. I’ll never give up. But—but I’ve made such a mess of things here. Everyone thinks I’m a slut. And they’re probably right.”
I open my mouth and she actually smiles.
“Don’t defend me, Moira. I’d feel like a complete piece of shit if you did. You need to stop defending everyone.”
Funny, that’s what both Shane and Joe say too.
I shake my head at Eva. “I don’t think so. I’m going to keep defending people because one day I’ll be proven right, that there’s more good than bad, that there’s more virtue than not, that there’s more love than hate.”
Another tear drops from her eye. “I’m going to miss that eternal optimism.”
I smile.
She nods, taking a step away from me. “When my boys are ready, can you get them to call me? Maybe all of you can come down to Miami?”
I nod. “That’d be fun.” I look around the violet and lilac-colored snow and the purple-gray sky darkening even though it’s only four in the afternoon. “On a day like today, it would be great to be somewhere warm.”
There’s a part of me that means what I say, but there’s a part of me that wonders if I’ll ever see Miami with Eva. If I’ll ever see her again. I worry she is giving up on her sons, and I don’t understand that. Then again, I don’t understand what kind of mother she was and is.
See, I get it. I’m sounding like a hypocrite. And maybe I am. But here’s the thing, alcoholism is a disease. Right before I met Joe and Shane, I woke up to the idea that if I had any other disease, say cancer, then I would fight to live. I’d fight to be with my children and to continue to be strong enough to take care of them. And with that, my decision was made. I was going to fight my disease. It hasn’t been easy, and I’m going to wrestle with it every day for the rest of my life, but from time to time I stop and realize what I’m fighting for. I might sound like an eternal optimist, but it’s only because not that long ago I realized alcohol was killing me. I was drowning in a black lake that was taking me down slowly and painfully.
But I chose to live.
I am awake because I choose life.
Eva tells me to have a good day and turns and walks away from me at a fast clip. I wish she wouldn’t, but she is. I wish she’d stay so I could grab Joe or Shane or both of them. But she’s choosing something else.
I sigh and huge powerful arms wrap around my stomach. “That my mom?”
Joe’s deep voice bounces through my body, making me instantly smile. “Yep.”
“She okay?”
I nod as he puts his head against mine. “She’s moving to Miami.”
“She’s what?” Shane asks.
Joe and I turn to look at him. He’s standing a couple feet away, staring where his mother just had been.
“She’s moving to Miami,” I repeat.
He sighs, blinking hard for a long time. “She didn’t want to tell us?” He glances at Joe.
I move with Joe and wrap my arms around Shane. He’s so much more heartbroken by his mother than his brother. I suppose, because Joe had Shane to lean on, but Shane had…well, he’s slowly learning how to lean on me. And I couldn’t be happier about that.
While holding Shane, Joe hugging both of us, I tell them, “She said that when you’re ready to call her.”
Shane snorts. “But she won’t call us.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m not sure about that.”
Shane sighs again and finally looks down at me. “She say anything about Child Protective Services?”
I shake my head.
“Better not’ve.” Shane frowns in the direction of his mother’s house.
“It was weird having Christmas without her,” Joe says, making Shane look at him, something strange crossing through his eyes.
“The best Christmas I’ve ever had.” Shane frowns. “No one was swearing. No one was crying. No one was fighting and threatening divorce. Liv got the doll she wanted and gave me a tattoo of Elsa on my neck that I still can’t get off. Jamie and I played video games for hours. What part am I missing?”
Joe smiles. “Yeah, it was great. Just weird as fuck not to have a dysfunctional Christmas.”
Shane and I laugh.
Then Shane says, “Yeah, and I plan to have many more.” He smiles down at me. “Many, many more.”
“Talking about Liv and Jamie…?” I question.
Shane glances at the house. “Liv’s running around the table while Jamie counts how many times she can do it.”
“Of course.” I nod.
Shane smiles at me again.
And although I’m scared I’ll ruin the perfect moment, when we’re all close and I feel so loved and cared for, I blurt out what I’m thinking. “Go to your mom’s. I’ll watch the kids and if it gets too late, then we’ll stay here.”
Shane bristles, but Joe clamps a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Why not?”
Shane sighs. “The one part I never figured into this dynamic is when the two of you gang up against me.”
“Gang up against you?” I roll my eyes.
Shane softly chuckles. “Yeah.”
Joe shakes
his brother a little. “I like ganging up against you. I’ve never been able to make you do half the things Moira can get you to do. It’s awesome.” His smile is so warm it could melt the January snow but wanes when he glances at his mother’s house again. “Okay, I want to see her. So let’s have a secret word that when one of us says it, we’ll leave.”
Shane looks in the direction Joe is, the once prized jewel of the neighborhood, but now with no lights on, looks dark and dreary. “Fine.”
My men begin to walk away when Joe pivots back to me and kisses me quickly on my lips. “Forgot to say that I want many, many more Christmases like this last one too.”
I kiss him in return and smile. “There will be many, many, many more Christmases to come. I swear.”
Next, Shane’s there, giving me a quick kiss too. “You swear? But can you ever say a swearword without blushing slightly?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Fu—” but my cheeks are already burning, so I choose an alternative. “Fudge—fudge—freaking fudge.”
“Wow, that was horrible.” Joe shakes his head at me, smiling and trying not to chuckle.
“I swear around Bit because she doesn’t make me self-conscious about it.”
“We’ll have to film this. See if it’s true,” Shane says.
His brother nods his approval.
I roll my eyes and shoo them away. “Scram before I change my mind about having more Christmases with the two of you.”
“Meanie.” Shane smiles.
I love this so much—this easy comfort in each other’s company, how we’re now so familiar with each other. We’re family. So, I say what’s in my heart. “I can’t wait to spend every day with the both of you, you silly Jennifers.”
Shane and Joe both laugh.
“Now, go.”
Joe takes a step away, but it’s Shane who says, “I love you. I love this life of ours.”
Joe smacks his chest. “I was going to say it, but you—I love you too, Moira.”
“I love you both so very much.”
I get two more kisses then they walk away slowly, talking to each other and laughing as they head toward their childhood home. Then I march toward my old house, my kids inside who charm the socks off me every time I see them. I love them. With everything in my heart and body. And I love Joe and Shane so much as well.
As I watch my big men trudge their way up the sidewalk to their mother’s house, I can’t help but remember the night I first met Joe, the night my monster came crawling out of me, encouraging me to be sober, to be brave, to be angry, to be vicious, if need be. I was terrified of her. I wonder if all women are scared of the internal beast that begs for transformation. It’s ironic that the butterfly is still one of the most popular tattoos for women, because, I think, we all desire to become beautiful and winged. But from the viewpoint of the caterpillar, the metamorphosis is terrifying.
It reminds me of my mother’s fairy tale about me. I think all of us want an internal revolution. We want out of the green-black sludge that is our life. But the process to become different is far uglier than anything we could possibly imagine. It’s brutal and severe; it’s strong and fierce; it’s…yes, horrifying. But out of the deal I have my wings for my freedom, freedom to love who I want, and the gift is they love me in return.
I’m awake to this love, to this life. I’m so fucking awake. And I love it.
THE END
Want to read more by Red L. Jameson?
Here’s an exciting excerpt from Enemy of Mine, Book 1 of the Glimpse Time Travel Series
Prologue
“The poor girl is so exhausted, she’s sleeping through your rummaging around in her underwear drawer. Or wait, is that a herd of buffalo stomping through Erva’s things?” Clio snaked a dark red brow high at her sister, Erato.
Erato, clad like Clio in a golden toga also with burgundy-colored hair and smelling of Mediterranean lavenders, pulled out a purple thong. “Girl? I think not. She’s a woman. Looky here.”
Clio giggled, but then sucked in her mirth with a bite of her lip. “Stop it. You always get me into trouble.”
“Well, what are you doing here anyway? I thought we’d planned to go to that male stripper club.” Erato looked around the dark and bland bedroom. Even cheap hotel rooms had more character. The only human element to it was the piled books and papers strewed about the nondescript floor. “Instead I find you here in this God-awful mess.” Then, Erato snorted. “Get it? God-awful?”
Clio rolled her eyes. “We’re muses, not gods, love. And I’m not convinced I’m awful.”
“Nice. Insult your own sister, why don’t you?”
With a smirk Clio sat close to Minerva Ferguson, Erva, on her beige bed. While Erva slept soundly, Clio pulled back a few strands of long blonde hair from her creamy complexion, sighed, and smiled at her sister. “We’re here because...because...”
“Oh God, not again.”
Clio cleared her throat. “She’s so deserving, Sister. I’ve been watching Erva for quite a while now. She finished her dissertation two years ago, but her supervisor won’t let her argue it, won’t let her graduate. She should have been a professor by now. Instead, she works like a dog for her supervisor, a Dr. Peabody. Can you believe that name? Anyhow, Erva has been working tirelessly for a place at her university; she is one of the most knowledgeable in her area of expertise; she’s being held back by evil Dr. Peabody; and—oh!—she’s had one hades of a bad day today. The dean observed her classes—all of them—and in her last class one of her students accidentally poured water down her front. She looked like she was going to enter a wet t-shirt contest. In front of her dean! She was mortified.”
Erato leaned over her sister to stare down at the human in pink flannel pajamas. “She’s got great boobs, that’s why the little accident happened. Are those even real?”
Clio growled and turned quickly, making Erato fall on Erva in a lump of giggles.
As Erva stirred, Erato scurried off her to sit closer to her sister. Erva curled in a ball on her side, fists tucked under her chin.
“Did you drug her?” Erato asked.
Clio shook her head. “She did that herself. She drank a whole bottle of Moscato wine before bed.”
Erato sighed. “She’s been beat up by the world. What else is new, Clio? Why do you always do this? You think you can save everyone?”
“I don’t think I can save everyone.”
“Just historians?”
“Well, why not? I am their muse, after all.”
“You don’t see me saving every romance writer, do you?”
“Um, yeah.” Clio crossed her arms. “The rise in romance writing is monumental. Further, many romance writers are finally making good money too. You can’t tell me you didn’t have something to do with that.”
Erato bit her bottom lip playfully.
“I knew it!”
Erato pressed a finger against her full lips. “Shh, Sissy. You’ll wake your new project.”
“So you’re agreeing with me? You think I should give Erva a glimpse?”
Erato shrugged. “Why not? Where is she heading?”
Clio couldn’t help but chuckle again as she scooted even closer to her sister. “That’s the fun part! Minerva’s doctorate pertains to the American Revolution, but get this. This little all-American, blonde, doe-eyed girl is in love with a British officer of years afore. Her dissertation defends one of the youngest English generals to serve during the war.”
Erato arched a brow. “So she’s in love with her former enemy?”
Clio smiled appreciatively.
“I love complications.”
“Oh, I do too, Erato.” Clio took a large inhalation, then gently shook Erva’s shoulder, while Erato pulled more blonde hair from the mortal’s face. “Waky, waky, little historian.”
Erva moaned, but didn’t open her eyes.
Erato leaned forward until she was a couple inches from Erva’s face, then screamed, “Oy! Wake up!”
Erva sat up with a start, fists swinging, her eyes hardly open enough to see.
“Oh, I like her. She’s a fighter,” Erato said.
“I know. She’s quite deserving of this.”
Erva looked from one muse to the other in blurry-eyed wonder. “I’m dreaming.”
Clio chuckled while she shook her head. “No, dear girl. I’m afraid you’re not.”
“Are you going to rob me then? In togas?”
Erato giggled. “The only thing I like that you own are all those thongs. You’re a bit of a randy girl underneath the nerdy historian exterior, aren’t you?”
“You know what kind of underwear I wear? Are you Homeland Security? Please don’t waterboard me.”
Erato turned to her sister. “She’s funny too. I really like her.”
Clio nodded and found Erva’s slender hands. After placing them in hers, she said, “Sweet girl, you’re still drunk and think you’re dreaming. But you’re not. You’re going to wake in a different century, in a different town too. I hope you like New York City in 1776.”
“What’s her boyfriend’s name?” Erato asked.
“General William Hill.”
Erva flinched. “What? Why are you talking about him?”
Erato snickered. “Look. She’s defensive. She’s so cute about him!”
Erva tried to retract from Clio, but Clio was much too strong. She held the human in place. “I’ve arranged for everything. You will be staying with him. You can ask him anything you want to know. You will have a glimpse of what life was like for him. You will then return here, back to Boston in your time, and write about it. You’re the only one who has done him justice. But I need you to write more and get it out to the world. He was a hero, but is only known as a villain. Or lazy, at best. He was neither, as you well know. You will become his champion.”
Erva swallowed and shook her head. “I don’t—”
But then Clio released one of her hands, and with a snap Erva instantly fell back asleep.
Both Clio and Erato stood and watched the human.
Awake: Book 3 of the Wild Love Series Page 34
