Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
October 10
“You guys ready to go to school?” Jack asks as he buckles Cole into his car seat in the back of the Expedition. I’m buckling Luke into his.
The boys nearly deafen us with their affirmative responses. And then begin to tell us all about coral reefs, starfish, and conchs.
At the school, we repeat the process but in reverse and then walk into the schoolyard, Cole holding Jack’s hand and Luke holding mine. Mrs. Stackpole is waiting for al the kids to arrive. “Good morning, Luke. Good morning, Cole,” she says. The boys respond by running to her and hugging her legs.
I wince; they ran to her too quickly, and the ache of loss strikes anew. I go through this every time I drop them off. Even though they’ve been with me for a month now, it feels like I just got them back.
Mrs. Stackpole looks up at me. “They are adjusting very nicely.”
“I can see that.” Jack puts his arm around my waist. I wonder if he feels as proud as I do right now.
Mrs. Stackpole bends down and quietly says to Luke, “I think Mitchell is over by the swings.” She points in the direction his friend is playing.
And without any hesitation, Luke releases Mrs. Stackpole’s leg and runs toward the swings. Cole is right behind him, following every move his big brother makes.
“You have two very sweet little boys,” Mrs. Stackpole says.
“Thank you.” My response is somewhat distracted, as I’m engrossed in watching my sons play with a new friend. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen them with other children, and my sadness shifts to make room for joy.
More children and parents arrive, so I wave goodbye to the boys, but they are so busy, they don’t notice. Leaving my babies behind, Jack and I walk back to the Expedition.
“When are ya gonna learn how to drive on the left side?” Jack asks.
“I’m not.”
“What do you mean, you’re not?” Jack laughs.
“Jack. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”
“Ya really think you’ll hurt someone?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Jack pulls me into his side. “I think ya are too hard on yourself.” He kisses my temple. “So I’ll take it easy. If ya ever do want to learn to drive here, though, all you gotta do is ask.”
Glimpses of the haint-blue of Jack’s porch are visible through the foliage as we make our way up the long driveway. The gate opens and Jack parks the Expedition in front of the steps leading up to the entry.
I close the door behind us after we go in. “Hey, beautiful!” Jack croons as he grabs me by the waist and pulls me close to himself. We sway as he starts singing one of his songs to me while one hand plays with my long ponytail.
“I don’t dance.” I laugh, knowing I’m getting clumsier every day, any attempts at dancing will result in a broken something —either a bone or a vase.
“That’s okay. We aren’t really dancing,” Jack sings. “I like it. Could be a new song? ‘We Ain’t Really Dancin’.’”
“If it’s about me, it will be a flop.” I stick my lower lip out to pout, and he swoops in to snatch it between his teeth. He sucks gently as his tongue darts in to caress the sensitive skin just inside my mouth. And then he’s gone, his face a respectable distance from mine, and I’m left with arousal growing below my belly.
I’m sure I’m doing an accurate representation of a fish as I gape at him. How does he do that? His touches, his kisses, his… bites… I make a mental note to research fun ways to pleasure my partner one of these days when the boys are at school and Jack is out of the house. I’d be absolutely mortified if he found me in our room doing facial calisthenics!
“If it’s about you, it will be a hit,” Jack is saying now. He continues to sway me, guiding us over to the couch where we fall on it together, still holding on to each other. He’s very nice to hold on to.
My baby must not have enjoyed the fall because she punches me. Or maybe it was a kick. But the taut skin over my uterus definitely rippled from the blow.
“Did you feel that?”
“Feel what? An earthquake? We don’t get those down here.”
“No, nothing outside the house. Inside here. Me.” I take Jack’s hand and put it on my tummy where I felt her. It doesn’t take long before—“There! Did you feel it?”
Jack looks up at me with a huge grin and happy eyes. “She’s kickboxing! Wait until I tell Zeus!”
“She can join me on my self-defense workouts,” I joke.
“I wonder whether Zeus would let me lift her instead of weights?” He smirks. “She’ll get increasingly heavier as she grows, and I’ll keep building my strength right along with her.”
But then he sobers. “Sweetness, things are going well with me and the boys, but that’s ’cause they can talk and we understand each other. I don’t know anything about raising babies from scratch. Are ya sure ya want me around for this?”
I reach out and rub the deep groove between Jack’s eyebrows, trying to smooth it out. “I’ve been through this twice, essentially on my own. If you continue to be kind and thoughtful like you are now, I don’t think we’ll have a problem. And, I’m sure we can find a book in the library that will help you. We can also practice changing diapers on a doll.”
“I’d like that. All of it. Every time I think of you and the baby, I feel this deep sense of anxiety.” Jack’s drawl is gone, so I know he’s especially serious. “I don’t want to screw up like Ben did. I want to do right by you and the three kids, no matter that I’m not their biological father.”
My dear, sweet love! Deep down, I wish this was his baby. I can’t help but hug him. “Jack, your concern is precious. Let’s make a pact: If I see you doing anything harmful with any of the children, I’ll tell you so you can change. And you’ll accept my input and do your best to adjust. We’ll be a team. Work for you?” He leaves his hand right there on my bump as I kiss his cheek.
“Works for me. You’re an amazing woman, Isa Marie.”
I chuckle. It’s been a while since we’ve played this game. “Nope, still not my middle name.”
“Jack, Isa, I am going to the market,” Gabrielle says as she comes into the living room. “Would you like anything? Do you have a list of what you would like me to get for the house? For the children?”
“Actually, I do need some things.” I push myself up off Jack. “Hold on a minute.” I get up off the sofa and head over to the island to sit and write out a list.
“Oh, yes, no problem.” Gabrielle smiles, reading over the list I gave her. “A doll baby and disposable diapers to match its size. Is this for the boys to play with, or…?”
Jacks ducks his head, sheepish. “It’s for me. So I can practice before Isa has her baby.”
“That’s wise, Jack.” Gabrielle looks proud. “I can share some links to websites that helped me prepare for my children.”
Gabrielle and Ramone having children never occurred to me. Am I becoming selfish and self-centered living in this luxury? I’ll have to do better about looking out for more than just my tiny family. Starting by texting Suzanne. It’s been too long since we talked.
After Gabrielle leaves for her errands, I go into the bedroom and retrieve my phone from the charger. I thumb the screen awake, and freeze.
Suzanne has sent me a link. This time it’s the obituary section of the Portland Forecaster . Benjamin Cushing died of his injuries on Oct. 2. We’re free.
I slump to the bed and just stare at my phone.
We’re free.
The boys are mine; their father will never try to come after them.
My daughter is mine; I can put Jack’s name on her birth certificate without any hassle.
The connection with the Cushings is completely severed. If they want to play doting grandparents, they’ll have to take me to court. I’d have to ask a lawyer, but I don’t think it looks too good that Ben’s parents sent their children back to OCFS in favor of sitting by their comatose son’s bedside.
We’re free.
I must sit there in a daze long enough that Jack gets worried and comes to find me. When he sees me on the bed, staring at the wall, he rushes over and sits down beside me. He wraps his arm around me and brusquely rubs my upper arm.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice warm and caring. I never heard that tone of voice from Ben. I never will.
Clumsily, I open my phone again so Jack can read the obituary. When he’s done, he blows out a heavy breath.
“I was not prepared for that outcome,” he says. “Never even crossed my mind. Most people wake up from comas, right?” He runs his hand through his hair, messing up the sun-bleached strands. The thought that he’s in dire need of a haircut flits through my mind.
“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting it either.”
“What will ya tell the boys? Will ya tell them?”
“I probably should. They don’t seem too concerned about him, but they also might be compartmentalizing. We could talk to the school counselor, see if she can give us some advice about breaking the news to the boys.”
Jack hugs me to him. “We should also see about getting ya in to see a counselor too.”
I pull back so I can see his face. “I’ve been putting it off. Hadn’t figured out how I’d pay for it.”
“Darlin’, don’t ya worry about the cost. You have so much to deal with, and I want to support ya. First the trauma of your abusive marriage”—he holds up one finger—“then the trauma of losing your children in the divorce”—another finger—“then the trauma of the attack, and now the trauma of him dying.” He holds up four fingers, then wiggles them. “That’s a lot of trauma. And I want my best girl to have all the resources she needs to work through the world of hurt she’s been through.”
“Oh, Jack!” I throw myself at him, and he moves with my momentum, tumbling back onto the bed with me on top of him. He reaches up and pets my hair, dragging his fingers through the strands, then tucking my hair behind my ears.
“Ramone’s in town too, so we have the house all to ourselves,” he says with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Wanna get up to something fun?”
I need the distraction, so I say yes.
In one quick, unexpected movement, Jack rolls me to the side and hops up. Then he leans down and scoops me into his arms. I squeak at the fast changes in positions and cling to him, wrapping my legs around his waist and holding on to him for dear life. By the time he’s carried me out to the kitchen and deposited me on the edge of the marble-topped island, we’re both breathing heavily.
Finished with my impression of a four-limbed octopus, I release my hold on Jack. He picks up my hands and puts them on his shoulders, then I hold on for balance as he expertly unfastens the shorts that I can still wear just below my baby bump. I wiggle to help him slide them and my maternity panties off my body.
“Much better access,” Jack says with a wink.
The marble is cool under my ass as he steps in closer to give me a kiss. I move my hands from his shoulders to his neck, where I stroke the soft skin. He shivers, and I let out a peal of laughter. I have Jack all to myself. And he wants me. No one else. Just me. And that is very, very sexy.