Disgrace

by Brittainy C. Cherry

  “Sounds like a perfect plan.” She took my hand in hers and squeezed it. “Today’s a tough one for you?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  She squeezed my hand again and didn’t say another word. Though her comfort was enough.

  That was all I ever wanted from Mama—her comfort.

  As we walked up the steps to my apartment, and I unlocked the door, my eyes watered over, and I gasped as I looked around.

  Scattered throughout the living room and dining room were bouquets of red roses.

  Seven to be exact.

  “Mama…” I started.

  She shook her head. “They aren’t from me.”

  I walked over to the roses sitting on the coffee table and grabbed the note attached to them.

  Instant tears fell from my eyes.

  Because there is no such thing as an “almost” mother.

  Seven bouquets from your seven angels.

  Happy Mother’s Day, Princess.

  My heart skipped as I read how the card was signed.

  - Emerson, Jamie, Karla, Michael, Jaxon, Phillip, Steven, and Oscar.

  There was one bouquet from each child I’d lost.

  All of my babies.

  All of my loves.

  Mama moved over to me and read the words on the letter. “Oh, honey,” she breathed out, just as stunned as I had been. “He’s the one.”

  He was so much more than the one. Even though we were apart, he still controlled my heartbeats.

  Just then, there was a knock on the front door, and when I opened it, everything inside me began to heal completely.

  “Hi,” Jackson whispered, holding a bouquet of roses in his hands. Watson sat right beside him, wagging his tail back and forth.

  “Hi,” I replied, feeling my body tremble.

  “I, uh…” He brushed his hand against the back of his neck. “I’ve seen so many places over the past few months. I’ve witnessed a million sunrises, and I’ve seen the sun set. There were thousands of roads I’ve driven, and no matter which one I took, no matter if I went left or right, north or south, it seemed that they all led me right back to you.”

  “Jackson…” I started, but the tears and love in my soul made my words fade away.

  “You’re my world, Gracelyn Mae,” he told me, moving in closer. Mama removed the roses from his hold, and Jackson took my hands into his. “You’re my faith. You’re my hope. You’re my true religion. I’m a better man because you exist. I’m me because of you. And if you’d allow it, I’d love to spend the rest of my life worshipping your heartbeats.”

  I held his hands in mine and moved in close. My head tilted up, and I released a small breath as my eyes locked with his. A small, tiny, breath.

  My mouth grazed across his, and I whispered against his lips. “Worship me, and I’ll worship you.”

  Then he kissed me.

  He kissed me slowly, gently, and filled with love.

  He didn’t even have to say it, but I felt our love. I felt it shoot through my body as his lips pressed against mine. Our souls intermixed, and our flames were infinite.

  It was simple, the way we loved. We loved the scars of our past, and we loved the unknown of our future. We loved the mistakes. We loved the celebrations. We loved our darkness, and we loved the light.

  Our connection wasn’t something built around hurt anymore.

  We existed only on hope.

  I didn’t expect Jackson Emery.

  Out of all the prayers I’d prayed, I never thought I’d receive a man like him. We didn’t believe in the same God, but still, that was okay. We didn’t always love the same things, but still, that was okay. We didn’t always agree, but still…that was okay.

  Because love—real love—didn’t mean always holding the same beliefs. It didn’t mean we had to see eye to eye on every subject. Yet what it did mean, what real love stood for was a mutual understanding. A respect for one another’s dreams and hopes and wishes and fears.

  Jackson respected my choice to pray to God while I respected his not to do the same.

  We took the time to learn how each of our hearts beat, and in that journey, we learned that oftentimes, in the most important moments of the night, that our hearts? Our hearts beat in sync.

  From that point on, we were inseparable. We were committed to our future and learning to let go of our past. I was thankful for all my blessings I didn’t even expect to kiss my life. The blessings I was too blind to even realize were coming my way. That was a lesson I had to learn over time. The lesson that sometimes for the blessings to arrive, one had to get out of their own way.

  Everything happened exactly as it had to unfold. Even the hard days led me to where I needed to be. All the dots connected, I just couldn’t see it while I was walking down my path. Without Finn betraying me, I would’ve never crashed into Chester, Georgia, all those months before. Without all the heartbreak, I would’ve never known what love was truly supposed to feel like.

  For that, I was thankful. For the ups and downs, for the wrongs and rights, for the heart breaking and healing. I was thankful for it all, and each night as I lay down to sleep, I’d closed my eyes and softly speak my prayers.

  Dear God, it’s me, Gracelyn Mae…

  53

  Jackson

  “My dad’s retiring,” Grace stated over dinner one night in late June. “Judy is taking over, and she’s preaching for the first time in front of the church this Sunday. Will you come down with me?”

  “Of course.”

  That was a given. When something was important to Grace, it was important to me. We hadn’t been back to Chester in months, and I’d be lying if I said returning wasn’t hard for me. That town stood for a lot of demons to me but showing up with Grace’s hand in mine made it a bit easier to swallow down.

  Loretta came with us because even though she wasn’t looking forward to seeing Samuel, she loved her daughter enough to get past her discomfort.

  We arrived at the church Sunday morning, and I could see Loretta’s nerves as we walked up the steps. I placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. “You good?”

  She nodded. “Just taking small breaths.”

  Samuel was standing at the door greeting people, and when we walked up, I watched his eyes dance across Loretta’s figure.

  “Hi,” he spoke.

  Loretta stood tall. “Hello, Samuel.”

  “You look…stunning.” He was a bit shocked and overtaken by Loretta’s beauty—which seemed odd to me—all the Harris women were beautiful.

  She gave him a small smile and shrugged her left shoulder. “Of course, I do.” Then, she walked inside.

  “Hi, Dad,” Grace said, moving over to her father and kissing him on the cheek.

  “Hey, Buttercup. You doing okay?” he asked her.

  She wrapped her arm around mine and grinned ear to ear. “Better than okay.”

  We walked into the church and sat in a pew. I couldn’t think of the last time I’d been inside a church, let alone watching a person preach, but it was a big moment for Judy. I didn’t believe in church, but I did believe in family.

  So, I sat, and I listened.

  Judy preached about the power of forgiveness. She spoke on how life sometimes came with its twists and turns, yet at the end of the day, you were always promised a reset button come morning.

  She stood there confident, as if all she was ever meant to do was preach sermons. She found her passion, and it was powerful to watch her live it out loud.

  After the service, she came over to Grace and me, and I swore I never saw a person look happier. “How was I?” she asked.

  Grace pulled her sister into a tight hug. “It was perfect. Every second was absolutely perfect.”

  “She’s right. You were made for this,” I commented. Judy smiled and thanked me.

  “Oh! Have you been by your old place yet? I’d love to know your thoughts,” Judy commented. I raised an eyebrow, and she turned to Grace. “You didn’t tell h
im?”

  “I thought it would be best to show him,” Grace replied.

  “Show me what?”

  The two girls grinned ear to ear and gave me those doe eyes. “You’ll see,” they said in unison.

  We headed over toward the place I once called home, and I was stunned when I saw Dad’s house, the shop, and the cabin were completely gone. Instead, there were trails going through the land. There were beautiful flowers throughout the space, and a small playground where children were playing, making a ton of noise.

  “You turned it into a park?” I asked, somewhat stunned.

  “Yeah, and we named it after someone close to you,” Grace commented, pointing at a sign. I looked in the direction. Tucker’s Park. “I figured there are enough dogs running through the area that they could use a place to come play. So we made a few paths to the open land in the way back. Come on, let us show you.”

  We walked down one of the paths to the open land where both Tucker and my mother were buried. Their burials were guarded with a gate, and there was a sign that read, In Loving Memory.

  Owners were walking their dogs and playing fetch with them, and I could feel the happiness running through the area. It was beyond amazing.

  My heart soared as I looked past the memorial to a building in the background. It was new to me, but I knew exactly what it was when I saw it.

  “You built my mother’s art studio?” I asked, my voice cracking as I read the sign over the door. It was created with Dad’s auto shop sign, but it now read, Hannah’s Paint Shop.

  Grace’s hand landed on my arm. “Is it okay?” she asked concerned. “I just thought…”

  I cut her off as my lips fell to hers.

  In a way, it was as if my mother was alive that day.

  “We teach art classes there,” Judy remarked. “The kids love it. Sometimes we sit outside and paint the sunsets at night.”

  “That’s amazing,” I stated, still stunned. “That’s beyond amazing.”

  “If you’re ever in town and want to teach a class, we’d love to have you.” Judy smiled and nudged her sister in the arm. “Grace, how about you go show him the studio? It’s closed right now, so you two can look around in peace.”

  “Of course, come on.” She took my hand in hers, and we headed to the art studio, and we walked inside.

  It was beautiful. Against the walls were some of Ma’s artwork that I hadn’t even seen. “Where did you get this stuff?” I asked.

  “We found it in your father’s basement, and he told us we could use it. I thought it would be a nice touch. I also studied some of her earlier work and figured charcoal drawings might be great for the younger kids. And in the back room, we have an open canvas each Saturday night where people can toss paint around like crazy. They call it the Jackson Pollock room, but I prefer calling it Jackson Emery, obviously.” She went on and on about the space, and the way it excited me made my heart soar. As she was speaking fast, she caught herself and then slowed down her words. She frowned a bit. “Is this all okay? I just thought—”

  I cut her off again with a kiss.

  “Marry me,” I whispered as my lips lay against hers.

  She gently laughed, thinking I was joking at first, then she pulled back a little and looked me in the eyes. She slightly tilted her head. “Marry you?”

  “Yes. Marry me, Gracelyn Mae.”

  Her fingers landed against my chest. She bit her bottom lip and nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, grazing her lips over mine. “I’ll marry you.”

  54

  Jackson

  One Year Later

  “You look good, man,” Alex remarked, straightening out my tie. “But I’m gonna need you to stop sweating through your suit.”

  I couldn’t help it. I was a case of nerves as I prepared to walk down the aisle toward the woman of my dreams. I didn’t know days like today could exist. I didn’t know I could be so happy.

  “This is all I’ve ever wanted for you, Jackson,” Alex stated, patting me on the shoulder. “You to be happy.”

  “Me too,” a voice said from the doorway. I looked up to see Dad standing there in his own suit and tie. He looked healthy—something I thought I’d never be able to say again. Ever since rehab, he’d found his footing. Not without a few slip-ups, but with every fall, he got back up. And when he stumbled, I’d help him walk.

  Because that was what family did—showed up even on the dark days.

  Luckily, that afternoon was a day filled with only light.

  “Can I have a word with my son, Alex?” Dad asked. Alex nodded and left us alone for a minute. Dad stuffed his hands into his pockets and gave me a small grin. “You look great.”

  “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

  “Look, Jackson…I know I’ve let you down over the years and I’m not good with words, but I want you to know that you are my world. I haven’t been a good man. I’ve made mistake after mistake, but the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, is you. I’m thankful each day that you became a better man than I could’ve ever been. I’m thankful that you hold within you the best parts of your mother and me. You are more than we could’ve ever wished for. I love you, son.”

  Those words…

  Those damn words…

  “Don’t be a punk and cry,” he joked, wiping at his own eyes.

  “Sorry. My bad.” I pulled him into a hug. “I love you too, Dad.”

  As we separated, he wiped his eyes again and sniffled a bit. “Oh, one more thing. Your mother had this thing that she did the week you were born. She wrote you letters for special occasions. She wrote you a letter that she, um, wanted to give to you on your wedding day. I mean, she wrote you other letters, too. For your sixteenth birthday, for your graduation, and crap, but I messed up and missed those occasions.” He frowned, his guilt taking over. Being sober for him was hard at times. It meant facing all the missteps he’d taken in his past.

  “It’s fine, Dad.”

  “It’s not; it’s not at all. But I’ll give you those other letters on another day. Today, you get this one.” He reached into his pocket and pulled it out. Then he reached into his other pocket and pulled out a small box. “Plus, rumor has it that you’re supposed to give your bride a gift. So, if you don’t have one already, I figured this might work.”

  He opened the box.

  My eyes watered over more. “Mom’s ring?”

  “Yeah. I figured Grace might appreciate it.”

  “She will. More than words, she will. Thank you, Dad.”

  “Yeah, of course. I’ll let you read the note, and I guess I’ll see you at the ceremony.” He hugged me once more, and then started toward the door before pausing. “You know what? That Grace girl ain’t so bad.” He smirked a bit and shrugged his shoulders. “Even though she’s a Harris.”

  “Yeah.” I laughed. “She’s growing on me, too.”

  “Treat her well.” He nodded once. “For as long as you both live, you treat her well.”

  He left the room, and I took a deep breath as I opened the letter that Ma left for me.

  My Sweet Jackson,

  Today you swear your life to a woman that I hope is everything and more to you. You will say, “I do” to her as she says the same to you. You will make promises of forever. So, I thought I’d tell you a few things about how to love a woman to make it easier for you.

  Be easy with one another’s hearts. Some days she’ll wake up angry with no warning. Hold her tight on those days. Other times, she’ll wake crying. Hold her tighter on those ones. Remember to laugh out loud, the kind of laughter when it becomes hard to breathe. Hold her hand, even when she doesn’t want you to. Tell her she’s beautiful when she’s sick.

  Dance together.

  Miss her when she’s gone.

  Tell her you love her every day.

  Every. Single. Day.

  Love her, but let her be free to soar, too.

  Support her dreams as she supports yours.

 
Watch the sunrise and love the sunsets.

  Always know that I’m here for you whenever you need your mother. I was the first woman to have the honor of loving you, and even when I’m gone, when the sun fades and the stars sparkle bright overhead, remember my love for you.

  This life is beautiful because you are here, son.

  Enjoy this moment. Enjoy this day. This is your happily ever after.

  I love you, Jackson.

  Always and always.

  -Mom

  “Can I interrupt for a minute?”

  I turned to see Samuel standing there in his suit and tie. I nodded him into the room, and he walked in my direction.

  “Are you nervous?” he asked.

  “Yes, but ready.”

  “Good.” He grimaced for a second, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Listen, Jackson… I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to you today, or how to approach you, but words are slipping from me. So I’m just going to say congratulations. Thank you for treating my daughter the way that you do.”

  “She’s my best friend,” I told him.

  “And you are hers.” His eyes glassed over, and he nodded once. “Don’t let that fade.”

  “I won’t.”

  He turned to leave the room and paused. “Your mother would’ve been so proud of the person you became.”

  That meant the world to me.

  “Samuel?”

  “Yes?”

  I inhaled slowly and exhaled even slower. “I get it, you know…you falling for my mother. I loved her, too.” I gave him a smile, and I hope he felt the forgiveness in it. “I mean, how could one not?”

  He moved over to me and gave me a hug. I saw it in him, the hurt from losing the love of his life. I understood how that would haunt him forever; therefore, there was no reason for him to feel as if I’d hate him for the rest of his life.

  He was already heartbroken.

  No one would be as hard on him as he was on himself.