The Reality of Everything (Flight & Glory)

by Rebecca Yarros

  “I know, baby. I’m so sorry, but I had a call with my agent that just wouldn’t end, and well, I’m here now!” Claire nodded and smiled, sticking out her hand for Finley’s.

  Finley looked from that hand to me.

  “Well, let’s go!” Claire insisted. “I can’t wait to hear your poem!”

  “I invited Morgan,” Fin said so quietly it was barely a whisper.

  “That’s okay, Fin,” I promised.

  “Finley Montgomery!” Claire chastised. “Why on earth would you do such a thing? Especially when she has an important meeting?”

  “You weren’t here!” Fin shouted.

  “I’m here now!”

  “You can both come in. There’s more than enough cookies,” Mrs. Kozier assured us, no doubt seeing the same storm brewing that I did.

  “Morgan?” Fin looked up at me, clearly torn.

  “Are you suggesting I share my daughter with the next-door neighbor? It’s our first Mother’s Day tea!” Claire sniffled. “I’ve already missed so much because I work all the time.”

  I didn’t mention the five Mother’s Days she’d skipped out on. Finley’s eyes welled up again. Of course she was scared Claire would leave. That was all she’d ever known.

  My posture softened, and I tipped Fin’s chin up. “Go ahead and take your mama in for tea, you silly girl. You have a poem to read, and last time I checked, it’s Mother’s Day, not neighbor’s day!” I tweaked her nose with a grin and let go of her hand.

  Her shoulders dropped in obvious relief. “You’re not mad?”

  “Of course not. The understudy doesn’t get mad when the star shows up! We’ll go shell hunting later to make up for it, okay?”

  She nodded enthusiastically. “We’ll hunt glass, but Daddy already got you the prettiest one.”

  My fingers grazed the necklace as I smiled down at Finley. “He sure did. Off you go, honey.”

  “Well, let’s get inside, baby!” Claire urged in a singsong voice, taking Finley’s hand. Her gaze lingered on my necklace as the teacher ushered them inside.

  “Ms. Lewis, right this way.”

  “Later, Morgan!” Finley waved as they disappeared.

  I held that smile like a shield, then walked back to the reception desk and sank into one of the empty chairs along the wall.

  Complicated. That’s what I’d called my exclusive, non-relationship with Jackson, and that right there had been the perfect example.

  What I needed right now was easy, supportive, and…easy. But Jackson? What we had was intense, emotional, and messy.

  Claire was a tie for the biggest complication between us.

  I’m not with Claire. I. Want. You.

  I held on to Jackson’s words as my fingers toyed with my necklace. I had two choices here—believe him or run as fast as I could.

  Either way, the thought of losing him to Claire sent a knife straight into my stitched-together heart. She wasn’t good enough for him. She’d had his love and still hadn’t chosen him when it mattered.

  Just like Peyton hadn’t chosen Will…and yet he’d still loved her until his dying breath. He’d loved Paisley, too, even when she’d chosen Jagger. But he’d never loved me, even though I was the only one who had ever chosen him. My chest tightened. Fucking Will.

  “Ms. Bartley?” The secretary called my name.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Mr. Patterson will see you now. I’ll take you to him.” She rose and led me toward his office.

  I passed by Finley’s room but didn’t look through the window. She wasn’t mine. I didn’t get to be jealous. So why did I feel that swirling green monster in my belly?

  I was in deeper than I’d wanted to admit, especially after that display I’d put on about Claire’s last name. Whatever, she’d taken off his ring. She didn’t get to claim his name now just because she obviously wanted him back.

  I wasn’t giving him up without a fight.

  Oh God. At what point had I decided that Jackson was mine to lose?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jackson

  “Because it’s a school night,” I said as calmly as I could possibly manage, folding my arms across my chest. Seven p.m. on a school night to be precise. I’d been on nights for the past five days, and I didn’t want to spend the only night I had off this week arguing with Claire, but here we were.

  I wanted to spend what time I had with Morgan, especially since I hadn’t seen her since I’d crawled out of her bed Saturday morning. It had almost been impossible to make myself go.

  “So let her skip tomorrow. It’s preschool, for God’s sake, not Harvard.” She walked past me into the living room.

  “Absolutely not.” It wasn’t the first time she’d been in my house, but it still threw me to see her taking in the pictures of Fin I had scattered around.

  “But I’m making up for lost time, Jax. It’s just a sleepover.” Claire sank into my couch, kicked off her shoes, and tucked her legs under her, sitting like she always did. A few years ago, that familiar sight might have stirred up long-dead feelings, but not anymore.

  I leaned back and shot a glance up my stairs to be sure Finley wasn’t eavesdropping. “It’s not just a sleepover. It’s a complete disruption in her schedule.”

  Her lips pursed. “She’s five. She doesn’t need a schedule.”

  “She’s five, which is why she needs a schedule. Kids like boundaries and predictability, Claire. You coming home is great, but Finley can’t just bounce around like a tennis ball.”

  “I came back to spend time with her,” she argued. “How can I do that if you won’t let me?” Her face fell.

  “Who says I’m not letting you?” I rubbed the skin between my eyebrows and prayed for patience. Claire had thrown everything into upheaval in the last ten days.

  “You just said I can’t take her tonight!” she snapped.

  “First, keep your voice down. Fin doesn’t need to hear any of this. Second, no, you can’t just pick her up and take her when it suits you. You had her last weekend. This is my weekend, and weekends don’t start on Thursday nights.” I cued up a playlist on my phone, and Mumford and Sons played through the speakers. Hopefully, that would keep Fin’s ears from hearing much.

  A slow smile spread across Claire’s face. “You still listen to this?”

  “Apparently.”

  Her smile faded at my tone. “Why aren’t you happy that I’m home, Jax? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

  I blew out a breath and sat in the love seat across from her. “I’m happy you’re home, as long as you’re actually staying.”

  She had the nerve to look hurt. “This time is different, Jax.”

  “Really? And why is that?” I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees.

  “Because when Brianna called and said she thought you were really moving on, I realized that I needed to be here.” Her eyes searched mine for something I couldn’t give her.

  My stomach twisted. “You’re home for Finley, right? Because that’s the only relationship you can improve.”

  She drew back and blinked quickly, looking away.

  Shit. The hardest thing about arguing with Claire was not knowing if she was showing her real emotions or acting.

  “Claire. Tell me you’re here for Finley,” I repeated, softening my tone.

  “I don’t want another woman raising my child,” she admitted, not meeting my eyes.

  Morgan. This was all about Morgan.

  “I am in full support of you helping to raise Finley,” I told her honestly. “You’re her mother.”

  She brought her gaze to mine, and the vulnerability there caught me off guard.

  “I know I’m Finley’s mother. What am I to you?”

  Shit.

  “You’re Fin’s mom. That’s it, Claire.” I gentled t
he words as much as possible, but she flinched.

  “You used to love me,” she argued.

  “Yeah, I did. But I don’t anymore. I care for you deeply, and I always will. But there’s no chance for us. If you’re staying in Cape Hatteras, you have to accept that.” Each word was clear in the hopes that my meaning was, too.

  “But…” She shook her head. “This is what you wanted!” Her legs slid off the couch, and she leaned toward me. “You told me you’d wait for me! That I could come home and we’d be a family again!”

  “You left five years ago!” I cringed, then got a grip on my temper and my tone. “Finley was two the last time I told you that. I held onto the hope that you’d come home for years, Claire. But eventually, I let you go.”

  “I never let you go!”

  My eyes flew wide, and I stood. “We can’t do this. Not today. Not with Fin right upstairs.”

  “Jax, please!” She got up and came toward me. “I gave it all up for you, for us! So we could be the family you wanted. Are you seriously telling me that you don’t want Finley to have her mom and dad under the same roof? Happy? In love again?”

  That’s exactly what I’d wanted. What I’d prayed for. But not anymore.

  “You’re too late,” I said simply and backed away from her. There was zero chance I was getting into any position with Claire that I’d have to defend to Morgan. None. “What Finley needs are a mom and dad who are happy and love her. Loving each other isn’t an option anymore.”

  “You really mean that?” Her face crumpled, and a single tear slid down her left cheek. My jaw ticked. That was the side she cried out of for every play I’d ever seen her in.

  “Yeah. I do, and I’m sorry if it hurts you, but you need to know the truth.”

  Her tears dried as she studied my face. “You’ll change your mind.”

  “I won’t. Now, if you’d like to discuss a schedule to see Fin so she knows when she’ll see you, then let’s do that. But this topic is closed.”

  She took a steadying breath. “Okay. Why don’t we just split time? One week at my house, one week at yours?”

  I blanched. “Out of the question.”

  “I’m her mother!”

  “Claire, I can’t even trust you to show up to Mother’s Day tea on time, and you think I’m going to give you every other week with her?” I turned and walked into the kitchen, knowing she’d follow me, which she did.

  “Of course your little girlfriend would run and tell you that.”

  “Actually, it was your daughter who filled me in.”

  “You know that I’ve never been good with appointments. In fact, you used to love that I was impetuous and impulsive, remember?” She leaned against my doorway.

  “Yeah, and I also thought futons made great beds and ramen was a food group, because we were in college. I grew up because you can’t be careless with a kid, Claire!”

  I grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, twisted the top, and chugged. Then I offered her one, because she gave me my favorite human on the planet.

  “No, thanks. From what I remember, you used to like a beer right around now,” she replied.

  “I don’t drink unless Fin is at your mom’s.”

  “Because you’re so responsible now?” She crossed her arms.

  “Yes! I became a parent. I never put myself in a situation where I can’t take care of her.”

  “Are you ever going to stop taking digs at me?” she fired back. “I’m here now. Isn’t that what matters?”

  Fuck, this was exhausting. I finished the water, hoping it would cool my temper. “You can have every other weekend and every other holiday.” My heart screamed at the thought of not having Fin on Christmas morning, but wasn’t this what adults did?

  “Not enough. I may as well stay in L.A. and fly back twice a month for that.” She brushed invisible dirt off her blouse.

  “That’s as good as you’re going to get. If you want to schedule some dinners, we can make that happen, too, but Fin’s stability is the most important factor in all of this.”

  Claire huffed, then stood to her full height. “Fine, then fire her nanny. I’ll pick her up from school and keep her until you’re off work, and I’ll stay here on the nights you’re flying.”

  “I’m not firing Sarah.” I kept my hands on the counter so I didn’t rip my own hair out.

  “You’d rather she spend time with a stranger than her mother?” she fired at me.

  “Sarah isn’t a stranger, and she’s proven herself way more dependable than you have! You can’t have that time with Finley because I can’t trust you. Don’t you get that? Trust isn’t something you get because you finally deigned to show up and parent. Trust is something you have to earn, and you haven’t earned it, Claire.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Watch it, Jax. I might just file for full custody, and then we’ll see who’s begging for a little time.”

  Every muscle in my body locked.

  “After all, I’m home full time, now, and you’re still a coast guard pilot, right? Not exactly a good, dependable, predictable schedule for a little girl, is it?” She tilted her head.

  “Get. Out.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Just something to keep in mind, baby. There are easier ways to do this. Think about it.” She walked out of the kitchen and left through the front door without saying good-bye to Finley.

  I calmed myself down and got Finley bathed and put to bed while she told me all about the field trip to Roanoke she was going on tomorrow. Once she was tucked in, I kissed her forehead, then put her walkie-talkie on her nightstand and told her I’d be at Morgan’s place for a bit if she needed me.

  Switching my cell phone to our indoor cameras, I activated the zone right outside her room as I walked over to Morgan’s in the dark.

  The sound of banging came through the front door as I knocked.

  Sam opened the door, but her face wasn’t welcoming. “Tonight is not a good night.”

  I took a deep breath and reminded myself that Sam wasn’t responsible for my shitty mood. There was another bang and the sound of cracking wood. “What the hell is going on?”

  “She’s trying to demo.” Her lips flattened.

  “Okay, then I can help her.” Hell, breaking shit sounded great right now.

  “Not tonight you can’t. You look all pissy, and that’s the last thing she needs.”

  Another bang, followed by a curse.

  “Sam, I haven’t seen her since Saturday morning. This is the only night I have off for two more days. Please don’t stand there and tell me I can’t see her because I’m in a shit mood.” My jaw flexed.

  Sam sighed and let her head roll back in frustration before looking at me. “Okay. Here’s the deal. It’s May sixteenth.”

  “Right.”

  Her eyes widened like I wasn’t catching on. “It’s May sixteenth, which is the day—”

  “Will died,” I guessed, then cursed when she nodded.

  “So my girl is in there breaking some shit under the guise of it being demo, and you can’t go in there all pissy. Got me?” She stared me down good for being such a little thing.

  “I’ve got you.” I ran a hand over my hair and tried to get my head on right.

  “Okay, then come in. Just…watch your feet.” She led me inside, and we walked through the foyer and turned the corner into the kitchen, where Morgan stood with a sledgehammer, wearing Will’s baseball hat.

  She was covered in dust and breathing heavy as she surveyed the row of upper cabinets she’d brought down.

  “Hey,” I said softly.

  She turned quickly, clearly shocked. “Hey. I’m just, ummm—”

  “Beating the shit out of your kitchen because it’s the anniversary of Will’s death?” I offered.

  Her shoulders relaxed. “Ex
actly.”

  I took in the destruction of the room. She’d gotten the easy stuff, but there was a crapload more to do. “Look, I might be the last person you want to see tonight, and if that’s the case, I get it. No judgment. I will head home the minute you say so.”

  She swallowed and moved her safety glasses to the top of her head.

  “But I’m pretty good with a hammer, and I’d be happy to help if you want me to.”

  Morgan stilled.

  “Or I can just sit with you while you demo,” I offered.

  Sam glanced between us as Morgan looked anywhere but at me, making her decision. “Stay. Sit. If you don’t mind that I’m not myself.”

  I’d take her any way she came.

  “Okay.” I clipped the walkie-talkie to my belt, set the notifications so my phone would vibrate if the camera detected motion, and slipped my phone into my back pocket.

  “In that case,” Sam sang, “I’m going to leave her with you so I can run to the store. We’re out of ice cream, and that’s not good for anyone.”

  Morgan nodded, and Sam gave me a half smile and a mouthed good luck before she headed out the door.

  I grabbed one of the stools from the side of the breakfast bar and sat, keeping the bar between us to give her whatever space she needed. As much as it grinded my ass to admit, she wasn’t mine tonight. She was his.

  She pushed the demolished cabinets to the end of the kitchen, and I locked my jaw to stop from asking her to let me help. This was the same girl who hadn’t wanted me to screw down the plywood on her landing. She sure as hell didn’t want me stepping in here.

  Then she put her glasses back on, picked up the sledge, and swung it at the row of cabinets next to the space where the refrigerator had been. A quick glance showed that she’d moved it to the dining room.

  “I bet you think I’m insane, right?” she asked, then swung the hammer again.

  “Not at all.”

  She looked at me over her shoulder, then swung the hammer, getting it stuck through the face of the cabinet door. “Shit!”

  Don’t move. I folded my hands on the counter as I watched her struggle to free it, then let out a breath when she did.