Love Notes (Equilibrium Book 1)

by Christina C Jones

  “And you should’ve been there for you too,” Aunt Darcy insisted, eliciting quiet groans from Anika and Uncle Will, who knew what she apparently didn’t – that she was pushing too hard. “Maybe it would’ve been cathartic for you, a chance to explore your grief. Have you done anything to help with it? Talked to anybody about it?”

  “Uh…” I looked at my plate instead of looking at her, stabbing at a stray lump of bacon from the greens. “Not really. You kinda have to feel something, to seek help for it.”

  Aunt Darcy sighed. “Oh, Jules, baby. You don’t have to pretend not to feel anything—”

  “I’m not pretending,” I said, stopping her. “She was your sister. You grew up with her, you loved her, she loved you. Your experience with her is totally different than mine, and you… you know what she did.”

  “Of course I do.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “But sweetheart, forgiveness is so freeing, and it’s not even—”

  “About her, I know. It’s about me. And I am fine. I already feel free, and I don’t have any grief to work through about it.”

  “She was your mother.”

  “No,” I snapped. “She was not.”

  “Darcy,” Uncle Will said again, louder, firmer. This time, my aunt pressed her lips closed, saying nothing else about it.

  Thankfully.

  I gave my Uncle a grateful nod, and then chanced a glance over at Anika, who had her eyes on her plate. All it took was the tightness of her jawline to know that she was probably pissed at me for having a back and forth with her mother, but honestly… she was going to have to get over that. It wasn’t anybody’s place to tell me how to feel about this, or force me to talk about it.

  Especially when Aunt Darcy knew what the situation between me and her sister was.

  “Um… the yard looked really beautiful when we pulled up, Aunt Darcy,” I said, breaking the silence after a few minutes had passed. “Anika told me you’d done your landscaping, but it still took my breath away. Those purple dahlias are everything.”

  A little smile crept onto Aunt Darcy’s face. She was serious about that front yard. “You really think so?”

  “She does,” Anika spoke up, grinning a little herself. “She actually squealed when we pulled up.”

  After that, Aunt Darcy was outright beaming again. “Well, thank you baby. Your uncle purchased some space for me in a big greenhouse, just outside the city. They have different temperature zones set up, and you can go out there and grow whatever you want! I grew my dahlias and hydrangeas out there and then transplanted them. And I’m using a new fertilizer for the roses.”

  “Well your effort really shows. It looks amazing.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Uncle Will said, looking at Aunt Darcy with another of those lusty gazes like no one else was in the room. “I told you, you were good enough to do this professionally.”

  “Professionally?” Anika and I asked, at the same time, and Aunt Darcy looked a little flustered as she turned to us.

  “Well… Will and I were talking, and I’ve been thinking about… maybe starting my own little business. A little boutique landscaping company or something, you know?”

  “Mama, that would be awesome,” Anika gushed. “And, hey – you know Roman’s wife owns Posh Petals, right? I bet you could talk to her about sourcing for your plants, or even about wedding venues who might want permanent landscaping done.”

  I nodded. “That would probably be really, really cool. Have you thought about your name yet?”

  “Or a website?”

  “Oooh! I could take pictures for the website for you,” I added, earning an excited, “yes, exactly!” from Anika.

  But. Aunt Darcy held up her hands, urging us to calm down. “It’s still early, girls. Just an idea. But I appreciate how excited you are – it helps convince your Uncle to invest in me when it’s time to take it further.”

  Uncle Will scoffed. “Woman please, everybody at this table knows you can have everything in my wallet. Especially if you keep frying this chicken like this.”

  “Oh hush,” she told him, as Nik and I laughed. “Oh, Jules – speaking of investing in people’s passions, hold on.”

  I watched her as she stood up, rushing off somewhere. I had a feeling of what was about to happen, especially when I noticed that both Anika and Uncle Will were suddenly looking nervous.

  Sure enough, when Aunt Darcy came back, there was a check-sized envelope in her hands. I took it when she handed it to me and sat back down to watch as I opened.

  I was already shaking my head when I saw her and Uncle Will’s name printed at the top of the personal check, dated for the day I’d arrived in Mahogany Heights. “You guys really, really didn’t have to do this,” I told them, pausing for a moment before I pulled the check the rest of the way out. My eyes went so wide it hurt for a second as my gaze fell on the amount of the check. I’d expected a few thousand dollars, because that was just the way they were, but there were… too many zeroes. “What is… what is this?” I asked, an uncomfortable feeling in my chest.

  And from the expressions around the table, there was some discomfort there too, and Uncle Will was the one to speak up.

  “We know it’s more than you were probably expecting to see when we handed it to you,” he started, in an overly-soothing tone that let me know I wasn’t about to like what was next. “And it’s more than we’d be able to do anyway… if Doreen hadn’t had a life insurance policy. Your Auntie was one of the beneficiaries, so… we were able to do this for you.”

  I nodded, blinking back tears. “I probably don’t need to even ask who the other beneficiary was, do I?”

  “Jules…” Aunt Darcy said, using the same soothing tone as Uncle Will, while on the other side of me, Anika grabbed my hand.

  But I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. It’s fine. I get it. You’re… doing what you always do, trying to make up for her. That’s what this is, right? A check for the money she “should’ve” left me. I get it, guys.”

  “Jules, baby…” Aunt Darcy stood up, approaching the side of my chair to put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s not about making up for her. It’s about doing the right thing, period. And the right thing is for you to use this money to help make your dream come true. Okay?”

  I’d rather shred it to tiny pieces and light it on fire.

  “Okay Auntie,” I said, instead of spewing what was actually on my mind, because she didn’t deserve that. I stood up, pulling her into a hug and choking back my disgust enough to bring up the real gratefulness I felt to her and my Uncle Will. Not just about this check, but because of exactly what she said – their constant efforts to “do right” by me, since the people who should’ve… wouldn’t.

  Luckily for me, Anika had to go to work for an afternoon shift, so pretty soon after that, we were able to get away.

  “Thank you for being cool about the check thing,” Anika said, once we were closed inside my Jeep for the twenty-minute drive back to Mahogany Heights. Her words confirmed what I suspected – that she knew about it and hadn’t warned me, but I couldn’t blame her. If I’d known about the tainted money currently buried at the bottom my purse, I probably wouldn’t have come.

  I didn’t respond other than to squeeze her hand back when she squeezed mine, and it was enough. Anika knew the full, ugly depths of what that visit with her parents had stirred in me, had witnessed that trauma from the beginning, so she was gracious enough to just let me be, even once we made it home. I crawled into bed and went to sleep, just to avoid thinking or feeling or hell… being. Even if it was only for a few moments.

  A few moments turned into a few hours, and I woke up with the sun having gone down, in an empty apartment. Darcy and Will had sent us home with plenty of leftovers that could’ve soothed the hunger pangs that hit as soon as I was upright, but I was in the mood for something even more comforting than Aunt Darcy’s fried chicken.

  Something sweet.

  I washed up and threw on some
athleisure gear, opting for comfort overlooking cute. My hair went up in a high puff, and I grabbed my bag to leave, heading straight for the storefront I’d been avoiding after Anika’s warning.

  One of those honeybuns from f.w.b. sounded like exactly what I needed.

  My stomach started rumbling as soon as I stepped inside, obviously eager to get filled with whatever was permeating the air with that mouth-watering smell. I wasn’t surprised that there was a line, but I was a little sad about it, and so was my damn stomach. My impatience drew my eyes to the walls of the bakery, taking in the cute artwork that lined the walls. Still in line, I turned a bit, following the path of the imagery.

  A path that led me right to Troy, sitting off in a quiet corner booth to himself.

  Immediately, my heart started racing. His back was to me, and his head was down, probably looking at his phone or something. I didn’t have to go say anything – he hadn’t even seen me. And hell, even if he had, it’s not like I was required to seek him out every time we ran into each other.

  But the thing was… I wanted to go talk to him.

  There was no denying that I felt insanely good walking away from every interaction I’d had with him. And after the emotional mess of that lunch, the time I’d spent in tears once I was alone, and how I felt now… I could use a little of the way he made me feel.

  The decision was pretty easy.

  I stepped out of line and went straight for him, not considering until I was halfway there that he could’ve been meeting someone. My footsteps faltered over that thought, but I kept going, telling myself that I could easily just cut the conversation short and move on, if necessary. Still though… my steps slowed as I got close.

  Peeking over his shoulder, my eyes landed on the picture he was looking at on his phone – one of Storm tolerating being held by a gorgeous, caramel-skinned little girl with a mass of brown curls. He swiped his thumb across the screen, to a picture that was almost identical – just a different angle – and I smiled when I realized what he was doing.

  “Is she yours?” I asked, getting his attention with the question. He flinched a little, caught off guard before he turned, eyes coming up to meet mine.

  “Nah, my friend’s little girl. He brought her to the shop earlier. Why are you sneaking up on me?”

  I shook my head. “My bad, I didn’t mean to bother you. Just wanted to say hello.”

  “You’re not bothering me,” he said, grabbing my hand before I could walk off, embarrassed. He used his hold to pull me in front of him. “I just wasn’t expecting you over my shoulder. I used your tips, to take pictures of Storm and Bell. They actually turned out pretty good.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, I saw. I’m glad it worked for you.”

  “Me too. So… when is my next lesson?”

  My teeth grabbed at the inside of my lip, nervously chewing as I considered my response – a sensation that was a little baffling to me. I chalked it up to my irregular emotional state, and pushed another smile to my face. “Uh… whenever you want, I guess.”

  Instead of responding to that, Troy’s eyes narrowed a little, like he was trying to figure something out. “You want to sit down?” he asked, which struck me a little out of the blue, but I nodded anyway. As soon as I’d slid into the space across from him in the booth, he leaned over the table. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

  Immediately, I frowned. “What?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know… you’re just really low key right now, not like the Jules I’ve met these other times. And… your eyes and nose are pretty red… like you’ve been crying.”

  “Oh God, I knew I should’ve put some makeup on,” I whined, immediately dropping my head. “I should go.”

  “Nah,” he said, and then slid out of the booth to come to my side. “Scoot over,” he said, and I did, giving him room to slide in beside me, smelling good enough to rival the aroma of baked goods. “What’s up? One of these knuckleheads around here piss you off?”

  I laughed. “If only it were that simple.”

  “Rarely is.” He fixed me with that penetrating gaze that was so hard to look away from, especially when he leaned in a little more to ask, “You want to talk about it?”

  My eyes dropped to the polished table top. “No. Maybe.”

  Whatever he was going to say in response was interrupted by the arrival of a plate of… heaven. It was a honeybun alright, but it was the size of the large plate it was on, drizzled with layers of icing and pecans. My internal drooling must’ve translated to my expression, because Troy chuckled, then asked the server to bring a second fork.

  “What?” I asked, shaking off my little dessert-induced trance. “You don’t have to do that. I can order my own, so you don’t have to share.”

  He shrugged. “I insist. You’d be doing me a favor. Nobody needs to eat a whole one of these in one sitting.”

  I sucked my teeth. “Jokes on you, because now that I’ve seen it, I plan on ordering two of these to take home.”

  “Ah damn,” he laughed. “It must be really bothering you then. Whatever this is that you don’t, but maybe do, want to talk about.”

  Instead of playing it off, I nodded. “Yeah, actually. It is.”

  “Aiight then, well,” he said, then accepted the extra fork from the server to hand to me. “Eat, and talk.”

  I ate, but didn’t talk.

  At least, not at first. At first, we ate in relative silence, with me devouring much more than I intended, but still barely making a dent. And for his part, Troy minded his business. He glanced at me a few times, but said nothing, just… waited. That patience, and the quiet comfort of his company was what made me loosen my tongue.

  “My aunt and uncle gave me a check today,” I said quietly, sitting back against the cushioned leather of the booth. “A really big check.”

  He gave me a deep nod. “Okay. Most people would be pretty excited about that.”

  “Yeah, but… the money is from my… mother,” I said, only because I didn’t care to explain why I didn’t think she deserved to be called that. “Well… technically. She didn’t want to give me anything, but they decided I should have it.”

  “So… they made her write it?” he asked, and I shook my head.

  “No. She died. Left them the money.”

  “But nothing for you?”

  “No…,” I whispered. “Not a thing. Not that I was expecting anything. We hadn’t spoken since I was sixteen years old.”

  Troy’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Damn.”

  “Exactly.”

  There was silence between us for a moment before he leaned over, nudging my shoulder with his. “Hey… so what makes a sixteen-year-old stop speaking to her mother?”

  His question brought the tears I’d been trying to hold back to the forefront, and I quickly swiped my thumbs under my eyes, wiping them away. “Um… I didn’t stop speaking to her. She stopped speaking to me. And… I don’t want to talk about more than that right now.”

  “Okay. You don’t have to.”

  I pushed out a deep breath, knowing how crazy I probably looked and sounded. This man had come here to … eat five thousand calories worth of pastry, not sit with me while I cried about shit from more than ten years ago. And just when I thought there was no way I seemed like anything other than a complete mess, I felt his arms around me, pulling me into him for a hug.

  And it was glorious.

  I shamelessly tucked my face into his neck, but I had just enough restraint not to break into sobs like I wanted. Closing my eyes, I inhaled his cologne, and indulged myself in the soothing strength of his arms for a few moments before I pulled back. Before I had to pull back, because my body hadn’t caught the memo about this not being a good time for hard nipples or heat between my legs.

  “Okay, go back over there,” I said, nudging him away from me. He frowned for a second, but then did as I asked, returning to his original seat with confusion playing across his face. “Thank you.”

  “For wha
t?”

  I shrugged. “Letting me talk. Sharing your honeybun. That hug.”

  “You don’t have to thank me for any of that. And I thought the hug was too much, since you kicked me off your side of the booth…”

  “No,” I shook my head. “It wasn’t that at all. I needed it.”

  His lips spread into a smile. “Well, in that case, you’re welcome. You feel a little better?”

  “I actually do. I’m still about to go get in this line and order one of these bad boys to take home with me,” I told him, gesturing at the unfinished honeybun.

  “Well, actually…” he moved to the end of the booth, glancing around it as the same server from before approached the table with a box in his hand. He and Troy exchanged a short fist bump, before he handed over the box, and Troy turned back to me with a grin. “Already got you taken care of, mama.”

  I had to catch myself to keep my mouth from dropping open. “I… what? Are you serious? When…?”

  “When you were all quiet earlier, when we were eating. I had a feeling, so I used their little online service to order up another for you to take.”

  I gotta get out of here.

  “Well, at least let me pay you for it,” I insisted, only to be met with a firm headshake I wasn’t about to even try to argue. I knew he wasn’t going to budge. “Thank you. Really.”

  “Not a problem. I hope you feel better.”

  “I will,” I told him as I stood up, grabbing the box to take with me. “See you around?”

  He grinned. “We always manage, don’t we?”

  I headed toward the door with a bounce in my step, willing myself not to look back. As I pushed it open to leave though, I couldn’t help myself. When my eyes met his, letting me know he’d turned all the way around to watch… butterflies erupted in my chest.

  I gave him one last smile, feeling so good that not even getting the stink eye from some woman in line, some woman I didn’t even know, made my good vibe falter. I just smiled at her too as I left, and went on about my way.