34. Chapter Thirty-Four
Isift through the photos my mom pulled off the walls of my mother’s room. She didn’t have any family, other than me. Her brother, my abuser, disappeared after doing a short two years in the pen.
Disappeared into the belly of Grandma Maggie’s hogs.
A vision of my dead uncle flashes through my mind. Thanks to Jackson and Katie, I’ll never have to worry about him again.
Some of the photos are recent. Lily must have been sending them to the home. I glance over, watching her as she sleeps. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. JD shifts her carefully so her head is leaning comfortably against the seat of the plane.
“I don’t know how she does it,” I say quietly.
He shakes his head. “She’s a force, isn’t she?” JD pats my leg. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay.”
His warm brown eyes scan my face. “I know we’ve been telling you that you haven’t been yourself lately, but I think we’ve all been wrong. You’ve just been going through a growth spurt.”
My hand comes up to stifle a laugh. Most everyone on the plane is sleeping. “Gee, thanks.” I wipe my eyes.
“It’s true. You finally felt safe enough to let us finally see you. There is growth in that.” He settles back in his seat. “We have to feel safe to be able to let our true selves out to be seen. Lily did that for me … in part,” he adds thoughtfully.
“So, you’re saying you still aren’t showing us all of you?” I tip my head, studying him.
He leans close to me. “Different people bring out different parts of us.”
I think about what he said. It’s true.
“You weren’t jealous today?” he asks, making an abrupt change in conversation.
“Of Lizzie?”
He nods.
My head falls against the seat. “No.”
He settles back in his. “She saw the two of you out her window.”
“Did she look jealous?” I knew she was in there.
“No. She looked relieved.”
When my brows furrow, he laughs lightly, running a hand down his face. “It was pretty obvious how you and Tank feel about each other.”
That makes me sad. “I wasn’t even thinking about her. How selfish of me. I hope we didn’t hurt her.”
I lean over, shoving my face in his, needing reassurance from him that I didn’t make Lizzie feel worse. That was not my intention.
He stares at me for a minute as if he’s just seeing me for the first time. “You are kind, just like your mother.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” I joke, looking over my shoulder at my mom. “I did trick two guys into gluing themselves together.”
He laughs loudly, and I turn back to hush him.
“Okay, so you’re not kind to everyone. But you are to those who deserve it.” He runs his finger down my cheek. “I’ll put a good word in with Jackson, yeah?”
I bite my lip and nod, holding back tears for the second time today.
JD finally saw it. Now I just need to figure out how to make everyone else see it. More importantly, how I can get my dad to see it.
My mind plays over JD’s and my conversation as I straddle the precipice of slumber. I bolt upright, the answer snatching my impending sleep away.
I need to show Dad who I am when I’m with Tank. The parts of me that only he can bring out. But how do I do that when my dad won’t let me near Tank?
When we land, my dad is there to pick us up. He avoids my gaze. I don’t take it personally. The man is sadder than I’ve ever seen him. I mean, sure, he has a smile on his face as he hugs my mom like they haven’t seen each other in years. Maybe he thinks if he looks at me, it will mirror his own pain. That might be too much right now. Even for a big guy like him.
Eventually, he hugs me. Offers me comforting words. The rest remains hidden.
On the ride home, I decide to take the first step with him.
“Dad, can we go get ice cream? Just you and me,” I add quickly.
My mom reaches over and squeezes his knee.
“Sure,” he finally says at her encouragement, but I sense his reluctance.
He drops JD off first and then my mother. I slowly walk up to the porch, my grandfather watching my parents say goodbye to each other from the swing. I stop at the bottom step.
“Sickening, isn’t it?”
He laughs. “To some … to others it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.”
I smile. “The balance of life.”
“I’m sorry about your mama. How are you doing?” he asks, taking his hat off to scratch at his brow.
“I’m good. I grieved the loss of her long ago.”
We look over at my parents. They’re still holding each other.
“I’m sorry about Grandma.”
When I turn back, I notice he’s twirling a stick between his fingers. He stops the swing with his heel and holds it out for me to take.
“Your grandmother was holding this when she passed. She said that the man who gave it to her was going to marry her granddaughter.”
My thoughts trip on the word granddaughter. “She … she really said granddaughter?” I cry, snagging the branch from him and cradling it to my chest. My grandmother never called me … well, she never called me anything. I don’t think I was around her enough for any part of me to stick in her mind. Or at least that’s what I had thought.
He nods, chuckling lightly. “I’m glad to hear that it wasn’t more of her crazy ramblings, because she also told me she’d be waiting for me on the other side.”
I wipe my eyes. “Did … did Dad hear her?”
His gaze roams over my shoulder to where my parents stand. “No, honey. She waited until your mom and dad fell asleep. It was just her and me at the end.”
“Like it should be.”
I offer him a small smile, sitting down beside him. I place my palm over his heart. There are no words to comfort him. He drops his face and stares at my hand. He takes a deep breath.
“One love story ends and one begins,” he says quietly.
My hand presses harder against his chest in an attempt to keep his heart from breaking any further.
“Don’t worry, honey. This old thing is going to keep beating a while longer. I’ve got a little living yet to do,” he assures me.
My dad yells at me that he’s ready. Grandpa releases my hand. “Bring me back a hot fudge sundae.”
I nod before stepping away.
Dad asks me what I said to put a smile on Grandpa’s face.
“It wasn’t me. It’s her. Even though she’s gone, she’ll always be with him.”
He looks away, remaining quiet for the rest of the drive.
Thirty minutes later, Dad and I are sitting across from each other with spoons in our hands, shoving ice cream in our mouths. I glance out the window, remembering my first encounter with Tank. That seems so long ago. So much has changed since then.
I look at my dad. He’s deep in thought. “Tell me about her.”
He looks up from his dish. “Who? Your grandma?”
My legs curl under me, and I lean onto the table. “No. I knew Grandma. I want you to tell me about your mom.”
He looks around the room, avoiding my eyes again.
“If you tell me about yours, I’ll tell you about mine,” I singsong.
His gaze finally lands on me, and he grunts. “You’re too much like your mother.”
This makes me laugh. “So I”ve been told.”
“Well, stop.”
“Can’t. It’s who I am.”
His eyes soften, and he gives in. “She was the type of mom who was always there. Every day when I’d get home from school, she’d have a big bowl of cereal waiting for me.”
“What kind?”
He laughs. “Cheerios.”
“My favorite!”
He laughs again. “She put more sugar on it than either her or I would admit.” He shakes his head. “I loved watching that woman in the kitchen. It’s where she was happiest.”
“I loved watching my mom read.”
“Is that where she was the happiest?”
I uncurl my legs, dropping my butt back to the seat. “Yeah. It was her escape.”
“Is that why you read?”
“I guess. Not always, but a lot of the time.”
He raps a tune with his knuckles on the table. “We all have one. An escape that is. Mine is tattooing. When I’m working on a piece, my mind stays focused, and all my problems disappear until I put the gun down.”
“Maybe that’s why Grandma cooked so much.”
He nods in agreement.
We eat quietly for a few more minutes.
“I went to see Tank while you and Mom were gone.”
His spoon falls into his dish, and he pushes it away from him. “Not here. Not now,” he says quietly but sternly.
“Oh, we’re doing this here. I understand you have concerns, but you’re not even giving him a chance to show you they’re not valid.”
He points a finger at me. “Every concern I have when it comes to him is very much valid. He lied to the club for months, Kelsie. Not to mention he’s been stalking you.”
I roll my eyes. “Maybe you recognize he’s a stalker because you are one yourself.”
His head pulls back, and he glowers at me.
I open my eyes wide, mocking him. “I know about the cameras at Mom’s shop.”
“Not the same.”
“Well, I like that he stalks me,” I admit.
His eyebrows almost fly off his face at my words, and I laugh.
“I feel safe with him, Dad. He’s held my hand in the shallow waters, reminding me I haven’t forgotten how to swim. Now all I want is to dive into the deepest parts of the ocean with him.”
His face turns red and not out of anger. He understands what I’m alluding to.
“This is me, Dad. I’m not a scared little girl anymore. And even if I can’t be with him physically, he’s always here with me.” I tap my temple. “Please. Please give him a chance … give us a chance.”
When he doesn’t say anything, I take his hands in mine. “And if he’s not the man for me, that’s okay. Because I know I’ll always have my dad.”