Chapter 51
Not seeing Edith is fucking crushing me. It’s not that our communication has been nonexistent, but she’s held me at a distance and I’m beginning to panic that it’ll be too late in her eyes to undo the damage I did.
She always answers the phone when I call her. Ignoring anyone just isn’t something she’d do. Our conversations are always peaceful, but the moment I try to go into anything deeper beyond how her pregnancy is going and how she’s handling the changes with Clayborn being gone, she shifts the conversation to a lighter, more superficial topic.
I did manage to draw her out and ride with me over to the barn the guys and I completed while she was away. She wanted to see it all finished, and there was a sad longing when she looked it over. A disappointment that she wasn’t there to see the project to the end.
But that was ten days ago. I’m literally living off the sound of her voice and pieces of information I manage to squeeze out of Mason and Griffin.
Frowning at the stretch of road in front of me, I realize Mason is just as shut out as I am. It’s fucking Griffin who’s managed to make his way back around her again. Although, his mistakes err on the side of miscommunication and the fact that he’s just a goddamn idiot.
My anxiety picks up, so I press the gas harder, wanting to get to my parents’ place. We’ve been spending more time together over the past few months, working through our grief together over Julia’s loss.
Pastor Josiah and Ruth ate dinner with us one night after a long conversation I had with them about how I’ve handled those dark moments when her passing hits me the hardest, which then resulted in decimating the woman I know I’ve fallen in love with. She eased her way inside through friendship, then became so much more. It happened so gently, like water trickling into a pail, and before I knew it, it was overflowing.
They talked us through different ways to ease the ache and soften the topic by sharing memories every day until it gets a little easier. I decided to add in details to force myself to decrease my hatred for Clayborn. It won’t fully go away and forgiveness is a long, long way off, but by finding one thing I blamed him for which wasn’t his sin to carry has really helped me understand that Julia’s death was nothing more than a tragic incident.
She wasn’t murdered. That’s the part eating at me to admit, but someday I’ll get there.
“Hey, mom.” Kissing her cheek once I make it to their house and find her in the kitchen, she reaches up and pats my face, then nods her head toward the fridge.
“There’s sweet tea. Your dad will be in soon.” She turns back to the counter and starts aggressively chopping cucumbers, then scoops the pile into a bowl and reaches for the next one.
“Whatcha making?” I ask, pouring myself a glass, then lean against the counter while I sip at it and watch her work.
She peeks up at me with a red face. “I did something that I hope you’re not upset about.”
Confused, I furrow my brows. “Doubtful, but what’d you do?”
“I asked Mason and Griffin to come over for dinner.”
Waiting for my response eagerly, I just shrug and take another sip. “I don’t know why you’d think that would be a problem.”
Hesitating, she adds, “They’re picking up Edith on their way.”
My hand freezes halfway, and I stare hard at my mother. “I’m not upset about that, but did you push her into it, mom? Seriously, please tell me you didn’t pull some mom guilt trip on her to get her to say yes.”
“Honestly, Jax. What kind of woman do you think I am?” she huffs out, turning her now magenta face from me.
“You’re the kind of woman who wants to fix everything and fawn all over a pregnant belly.”
Sniffing in irritation, I start chuckling when she mutters, “Maybe. I didn’t this time, though. I simply gave her a ring, invited her to dinner, and promised we’d just chat about baby things… and maybe asked if she’d be offended if I rubbed her belly a little. That’s all!”
“Jesus, mom,” I groan, closing my eyes. Edith is going to think she’s psychotic.
Slapping me lightly on the arm, she hushes me. “Now, tell me a story, then I’ll tell you mine.” That’s code for sharing a memory about Julia.
Sobering up, I nod, looking down at my feet. “She covered my middle school jersey with paint. Remember the one we all got with our names put on the back in eighth grade? It was when we went to the end of season pizza party and the coaches did awards for those of us moving on to high school. They put our nicknames on the back. Anyway, she snuck into my room when she was like, I don’t know, thirteen or fourteen and was looking for something to use as a smock out in the garage for painting. She never paid attention to what she took, then proceeded to paint out there for the next four days.”
My dad chuckles, and I glance over, surprised I didn’t hear him walk in. Lifting my chin in greeting, I relax and keep going. It really does get easier with every story.
“I’m not sure why I went in there because I always stayed out of her space, but I needed to grab something. So, I walked in. She spun around to beam up at me, jabbing her brush over her shoulder at the painting. I didn’t hear a word she said because all I could see was freaking orange paint falling in massive drops over her shoulder and running down her arm.”
“Bet you were pissed,” dad says, grinning ear to ear.
“Furious.” It rushes out with so much passion that mom barks out a laugh. “That painting is the one over my desk in my office.”
Humming, mom’s laughter dies down a bit into softer giggles. “That girl was a disaster, wasn’t she?”
I grin, dropping my chin to my chest. None of us need to answer because she was.
“Mine was when I took her to get her ears pierced on her eighth birthday. I wanted to take her to the mall where they have those little chairs outside the store and pop-pop, you’re done. We were waiting our turn and there was this little girl in the chair absolutely losing her mind, screaming and crying and fighting her mom, who was holding her down. The way your sister’s face went from smiling to ash was immediate.”
“She didn’t get her ears done at eight,” dad says, confused.
Smirking at him, my mom’s smile is borderline evil. “I know. I didn’t want her to get them done yet. I had always wanted her to wait until she was ten, but she was so desperate to have them, I didn’t have the heart to say no. That day was so traumatic that it took her another three years before she wanted to try again. That time, I took her to a piercing place. She didn’t even flinch.”
“Ahh, clever girl.” Dad’s mumbled praise reminds me that he still struggles with not having his little girl anymore. I haven’t told them Edith is having a girl yet. It didn’t feel like it was my news to share since I’m not positive I’m the father, but if Edith wants to, I know they’ll be over the moon.
Muffled doors slam and we all turn to look toward the front of the house.
“Tell me the other thing, before they come in,” mom quickly hisses from the side of her mouth.
The thing to weaken my anger toward Clayborn.
Shaking my head, I leave my parents in the kitchen as I head to the front door, opening it just in time to see Edith wince as she climbs to the top step.
“You doin’ okay?”
Glancing at Mason and Griffin, they both seem concerned as they do their best not to hover. Edith simply waves me off.
“I’m fine. It’s this stupid, ugh… I don’t remember what it’s called. Oh, ligament pain. Mrs. Danielson helped me order something to help, but it doesn’t arrive until next week.” Her half smile is a touch forced, polite even, so I try not to pry any further.
Thank God for Griffin and his incessant need to be informed about everything. “Ligament pain is caused due to her stomach growing and causes sharp pains in the lower belly and hips. Totally normal.” There’s a higher pitch to his tone, which means he’s stressed about it while playing it off for Edith’s sake.
Mason’s hard eye roll is enough to tell me he’s already fed up with Griffin this evening but is trying to be on his best behavior.
Ushering them in, I jump when I find my mom hovering just behind my shoulder. “Damn it, mom. You’re like one of those little prairie dogs, popping up in random places.”
Saving me from her censure, dad calls out to us. “Boys! Why don’t you all help me take the meat outside? Just cleaned up the grill, but I need to get it started and your mom doesn’t need ya’ll hoverin’ in the kitchen. She’ll be after me to build her a bigger one if you do.”
As much as I want to hover, I’m sure being around so many people while you have an issue with half of them has got to be overwhelming. Leaning down, I touch her back and feel her stiffen slightly, but she did her best to hide it from my mom.
“Thank you for coming, Edith. You look incredible tonight.” Finishing with a fast brush of my lips over her temple, I leave her with mom and follow the guys out as they carry sheet pans filled with meat piled on top.
I spend the whole time we’re cooking staring at the house, and after my father’s fifth loud sigh followed by kicks to my ankle from Mason, we’re finally sitting around the kitchen table.
Edith seems more at ease now that mom has softened her up. I bite my cheek to hide the grin when mom reaches over to pat her stomach a few times before we’ve even taken a bite. Turns out, Edith gave her the go ahead to grope the shit out of her.
“So, Jaxon let us know you’ve been having a tough time finding foods that will sit well. We made burgers and chicken. Some seasoned, some not. Pick what you’d like to try, and if you can’t, I promise, no one will be insulted.” Mouthing a thank you to my mom for her kind words, she winks at me and pushes the plate of food toward Edith.
Beaming a smile, Edith leans forward and looks everything over. “It all looks so good. Can I have that piece of chicken?” She points at one which has only a bit of seasoning, but it’s a decent sized piece and I swear, Griffin, Mason, and I all exhale slowly. Relief swamps me, and I help pass around the dishes, eyeing everything she piles on her plate and taking mental notes.
We dig in and start up some side conversations while Edith takes small, tentative bites, and as soon as she’s reassured that nothing is going to come back up, she dives in with more fervor.
Mom, always the one to carry a conversation, points her fork at Edith. “You were saying earlier that you’ve got that house listed. What’s the plan now?”
Glancing over at me, she wipes her mouth with a napkin. “Oh. I spoke with the realtor yesterday and he suggested I move up my timeline for moving out. Said the house would sell faster with not much inside. Something about helping the buyer see their own stuff in the space. I’m not quite sure what I’ll do yet. I planned on using the funds from the house to purchase something little for us.” She sets her hand over her stomach when the us slips out.
“You ought to stay at one of their places.” My dad’s suggestion sounds nonchalant, but I know he’s getting ready to meddle. We all think my mom is the pro, but he’s just as keen.
Her face turns red. Fanning her face, she quickly shakes her head. “No, that’s… We’re not…”
Stuttering through her excuses, I realize my dad is right. “Why don’t you? Honestly, Edith. We’ve all got places we could stay to give you privacy. I’m barely at my house as it is. I could stay here and let you have it all to yourself while you wait for the house to sell.”
“You should do it,” Mason tells her, then slides her glass closer to her fingers, subtly hinting she should take a sip. “You could use mine as well. I’d say Griffin’s, but we’ve been there, and that place is an outright bachelor pad.”
Glaring at Mason, Griffin argues back. “She could use mine if she wanted! But he’s right, darlin’, my place is a shithole compared to theirs. Sorry for the language, Momma Thorton.”
Wiggling her fingers at him in forgiveness, she nods happily. “I know it might feel like you’re intruding, but I assure you, none of them would mind one bit.”
“I’d actually prefer it,” I admit, hitting Edith with a pleading look for her to believe me. She seems so unsure, and I know it’s because she’s still wary of trusting me.
Clearing his throat, my dad bumps my elbow. “While she thinks it over, why don’t you give us your truth?”
The guys turn to look at me, knowing exactly what he’s talking about since I’ve shared with them how I’ve been working through my shit. Edith, though, picks up her head, confused. “Truth?”
I’m not ashamed I’m doing this, but I am nervous about her reaction. “I’ve been spending time working through some grief counseling with Josiah and Ruth.” Including my parents with a wave of my hand, I tell her, “We’ve been doing it together. Sort of like daily affirmations, in a sense. We share a memory of my sister, then I finish with something I blamed your father—”
She winces, but I push through. I need her to hear this.
“The things I blamed your father for, which were never his sins to carry.” Meeting my mom’s shining eyes, she dips her head, encouraging me. “So, today’s truth is that Julia is the one who chose to sneak out that night. No one forced her to slip out her window and go to a party. That was her choice alone.”
Edith’s hair is hanging in front of her face as she picks at the shirt bunching over her stomach. Her shoulders hitch up a few times as she sucks in a breath, then she turns her face to the side to wipe away a tear.
Mom hands her a fresh napkin, and Edith lets out a watery laugh. “Sorry, it’s these darn hormones. I wasn’t—” She chokes on a sob, and hangs her head again, trying to apologize.
Griffin is reaching out for her, and Mason is already getting up from his chair, but I beat him to her side, squatting down so she can see me. “I wasn’t going to do any of the heavy stuff tonight, and I won’t say more. I’d love to tell you though, if you’ll listen.”
She’s nodding her head, swiping quickly at the faster falling tears.
“Why don’t you take Edith for a drive to your place, see if she’d be comfortable stayin’ there while the house sells? Your momma can pack up an extra plate.”
I flash my father a thankful smile, then check with Mason and Griffin. They have as much skin in the game as I do. As much as I want her to myself, it wouldn’t be right to exclude them.
“You both alright with that?”
“Whatever she wants,” Griffin says thickly. Mason nods once, so I wait for Edith to agree.
Shifting to stand when she agrees, I help her up as she’s still doing her best to stem the tears. Thanking my parents for dinner, I walk her to my truck and drive us to my place.
I keep eyeing her as she stares out the window, giving up on her fight to stop crying. Swallowing nervously, I decide to take a risk.
“Can I tell you one other truth I have? I don’t want you to say anything, but will you hear it?”
Without looking at me, she nods her head a few times. I can see her reflection in the window, but she’s so lost she doesn’t notice me watching.
“My other truth is that I fell in love with you all those months ago, and I have so much regret that I threw away my time to shower you with it.”
She doesn’t say anything, listening without responding, just like I asked her to, but I catch the way she slowly closes her eyes as my words dig into her.