Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
RORY
I had hoped Nash was right and my sister would return one of my twelve hundred calls or texts. But by the following week, when I still hadn’t gotten a response, I’d had enough. Time was ticking down to Gran’s birthday, and I needed to make shit happen whether Nat wanted to or not.
I snuck in to my bedroom even though my house was empty. Ella was outside with Nash, serving as his right-hand girl while he repaired the front porch. Ava was at her daddy’s for a sleepover, despite the fact that it was my weekend. We’d just fought over it that morning, which had set the tone for the day. I’d eventually relented for the sole reason that it was Kelsey’s birthday, but I wasn’t happy about it.
Even all alone inside, I closed my bedroom door, giving me an extra layer of security. I didn’t want anyone else witnessing another failure, and I wasn’t all that optimistic it’d be anything but. I cued up Nat’s name, pressed the call button, and closed my eyes, saying a little prayer that my sister would finally answer.
It rang twice before clicking over to voice mail. Super. So Nat had moved on from screening my calls and gone straight to seeing my name on the screen and downright ignoring. That was just great .
After the beep, I said, “Nat, this is your sister. Again. I’m sure you’re incredibly busy, but if you wouldn’t mind returning one of my dozen voice mails or texts, it’d be much appreciated.”
Somehow, I managed to stop before tacking on, you no-good, ungrateful, selfish bitch to the end of the message. As soon as I hung up, I tossed my phone on the bed. When that didn’t ease my frustration, I threw a pillow, then a book, all the while cursing a blue streak. Didn’t matter. None of it made me feel any better.
I tugged my hair up into a ponytail, stuffed my phone into my back pocket, and stormed out of my room and toward the back door. If I couldn’t take out my irritation by throwing things, I’d find something outside to use as an outlet for my anger. The lawn needed mowing, and there was no one to do it but me.
This was, without a doubt, my least favorite job, and one I’d only had to start doing since the divorce. My whole life, I’d always had other people to do it for me. In fact, my daddy had offered more than once to have his landscaper take care of it since our properties butted up to each other. But my stubborn ass had refused. I was thirty-three years old, and I could mow my own lawn.
Except maybe I couldn’t, because seven minutes later, I was still trying to get the damn mower started. Apparently, that would take an act of God.
Why the hell did things have to be so difficult? I could’ve taken the easy way out and said yes when my daddy’d offered to take care of it for me, but I wanted to do it on my own—I wanted to do all of it on my own. Wanted to prove to not only myself but to everyone in Havenbrook that I could. That I was more than the ex-wife and daughter and momma everyone saw me as.
But I was so tired. So fucking tired. I was trying my best, dammit, and I was getting sick of it not being enough.
“Why—won’t—you—start—you—piece—of—shit!” I grunted every word through clenched teeth as I yanked the pull cord.
I had no doubt Nash could hear every bit of my commotion, which only frustrated me more. I didn’t want the help, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t have been nice to be asked. He’d have been able to get the lawn mower started in ten seconds flat, with his huge arms and his thick, stupid boy muscles. The thought only pissed me off more, which made me yank extra hard.
The lawn mower finally rumbled to life, and I sagged in relief. At least now I didn’t have to worry about my cussing being heard over the noise.
By the time I finished mowing our large yard, strands of my hair stuck to my forehead and neck, my shirt was plastered to my back, and I smelled like a locker room full of teenage boys who hadn’t bathed in a week. All I wanted was an ice-cold shower followed by a glass of wine to help me forget this day had ever happened.
Knowing I shouldn’t do it, but unable to help myself, I pulled my phone from my pocket and glanced at the screen. No missed calls. No texts. Nothing.
Fucking Natalie. If she ruined Gran’s birthday with her pigheadedness and misplaced hatred of me, I’d kill her and give her something to really hate me for.
I shoved the mower back in the shed and slammed the door. Then I stomped around to the front of the house. In the time it had taken me to do some quick touch-up painting inside, then my whole fiasco with the yard, Nash had managed to repair my entire front porch.
And it looked fantastic, dammit.
Ella sat next to him, rummaging through his toolbox. She’d grab a tool, hold it up to him, and he’d tell her the name. Rinse and repeat. Even looking after and engaging with a rambunctious and overly curious seven-year-old came easy to him. I was starting to believe everything did.
He didn’t have to worry about the ever-watchful, judgmental eyes of the town, or maintaining the status quo of my family name, or about fights with preteen daughters, or about a sister who didn’t want to talk at all, ever.
And even though I knew I shouldn’t, even though I knew none of that was his fault, I couldn’t help but hate him just a little bit because of it.
I should’ve thanked him for his work on the porch and for hanging out with Ella while I wrangled everything else. Instead, hands on hips, I snapped, “You didn’t once come out back and offer to help me.”
He replaced the monkey wrench he’d just finished telling Ella about and looked over at me. Let his eyes roam up and down my body so long, I started to squirm. How could he make me feel desirable when I was positive I was one step up from swamp ass?
“Now why would I do that when I knew you had it taken care of all on your own?”
My mouth dropped open to respond, but nothing would come out, so I snapped it shut and simply held his gaze.
“Isn’t that right, Miss Ella?” he asked, eyes still locked on me.
“Yes, sir!” She nodded enthusiastically.
“What’d I tell you while you were helpin’ me?”
“That I’m the best helper you’ve ever had.”
“What else?”
“Girls can do whatever they want, and they don’t need a boy helpin’ ’em!”
“That’s right. Think we should tell your momma that?”
“Better listen to him, Momma,” she said seriously. “He knows what he’s talkin’ about.”
What should’ve been a proud moment only managed to be another chip piled high on my shoulders. I should’ve taught my daughters that. I should’ve been the one reminding them of that, but I’d thought I’d show them through actions instead of words. By going out on my own and fixing up our house and making a life for the three of us without anyone’s help. And then I’d undermined it all by storming up here, demanding to know why Nash hadn’t helped me when I’d been perfectly capable of helping myself.
Apparently, Nash had more faith in my abilities than I did.
“Nash is right,” I said. “You ca?—”
Ava’s ringtone interrupted my words, and I pulled my phone from my back pocket, my brow furrowing as I accepted the call. “Hey, baby.”
“Momma.” Ava’s hushed voice caught on the single word.
Two little syllables from my daughter and my entire body went tight with worry. “What’s wrong?”
“I dunno,” she whispered. “I’m—I think… I went to the bathroom and…”
“And what? Why are you whisperin’? Are you hurt? Where’s your father?”
“He’s downstairs, but I don’t want to tell him about this!” she hissed. “And not Kelsey or Sarah Beth either. Please, Momma. Can you come get me?”
“Get you? Ava, you wanted to stay the night so bad. Why can’t you tell—” I cut off then, the pieces suddenly clicking into place.
Ava was only ten, but that didn’t mean anything. I had barely been eleven when I’d gotten my first period. I’d been nervous and worried and scared…and I hadn’t told a single person. I’d snuck into my momma’s cabinet and gotten what I needed. Taken care of it all on my own without telling a soul.
But Ava had come straight to me.
“All right, baby. Are you in the bathroom now?”
“Yes, should I stay in here? My underwear?—”
“Don’t you worry about a thing. I’m comin’ right now, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “But hurry, Momma.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.” I hung up the phone, spun in a circle as if my body was ready to move before my brain had caught up, and then dashed up the front steps and into the house.
Without much thought to what I was grabbing, I gathered a set of clean clothes and a pad for Ava, plucked my car keys from the table, and flew out the door.
“Ella! C’mon, baby, I need to drop you at Mimi’s while I help your sister with something.” If Ava didn’t want to confide in her dad or her best friend, I was certain she wouldn’t want her younger sister to witness it either.
“But, Momma! Nash just asked me to check over his work and make sure everything was tightened. I can’t leave before I do my job!”
“I don’t have time to argue with you, Ella Jane. In the car, now .”
Nash stepped up to me, brushed a strand of hair away from my face, and rested his hands on my shoulders, his forehead creased in concern. “Everything okay?”
“It’s fine, Ava just?—”
“Needs you.”
My throat clogged at the sudden emotion flooding my insides, and I could only nod, knowing if I spoke, my voice would crack.
“Go on, then. Ella and I can hang out and finish our project.”
“ Yes .” Ella fist-pumped before dropping to her knees to rummage through Nash’s toolbox. She waved at me without looking up. “Bye, Momma!”
“I’m sure you’ve got other things to do,” I said.
“Nope.”
“Are you sure? I can—” My phone chirped, indicating a text from Ava, and Nash bent until we were eye level.
“Go on,” he said, tapping my bottom and placing a quick, chaste kiss on my lips. “We won’t set the house on fire while you’re gone. Probably.”
“That’s not helpin’!” I yelled as I ran down the steps to my car.
Except, somehow, it did. His teasing words and subtle reassurance kept my mind off everything until I suddenly found myself on my old front porch, my finger ringing the doorbell.
Sarah Beth answered, blinking in surprise. “Rory, what—” She halted, her eyes growing wide as they ping-ponged over my state of dress.
It was only then that I remembered what I must look like—ragged, cutoff shorts, a sweat-soaked tank top, hair plastered to my head, and my mascara probably somewhere in the vicinity of my chin. In the time since I’d walked up to this door after I’d found out Sarah Beth had moved in, I’d gone from the always put-together perfectionist who couldn’t leave the house without a full face of makeup and church clothes to the woman who bolted without a second thought when her daughter needed her.
And I sort of…loved it.
I didn’t care that I smelled, that the only bit of makeup I wore had no doubt melted off long ago. I didn’t care that my legs had what others probably considered to be too much cellulite to wear these shorts anywhere but in the privacy of my own home. I just…didn’t care. I had bad days—and I’d had a hell of a bad day—and I was certain I was screwing up this whole thing.
But I was doing it, dammit, and that had to count for something.
Rolling back my shoulders, I met Sarah Beth’s gaze straight on and refused to look away. I might not belong here anymore, but for the first time in as long as I could remember, I realized…I didn’t care. All I wanted to do was pick up Ava and bring her back to our house…the one that had somehow become a home.
“I’m here to get my daughter.”
After stopping at the store to pick up some double fudge brownie ice cream and Ava’s preferred female necessities, I drove us home, sneaking peeks at her the entire way. When I had knocked on the door to the upstairs bathroom—the one still done in white and aqua from when I’d remodeled it last year—Ava had peered out through a crack, then whipped open the door and thrown her arms around me.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten a fierce hug like that from her, and while I hated that my daughter had been scared—hated even more that she was growing up so fast—I couldn’t deny loving that she’d only wanted her momma.
Evening had settled since I’d been gone, and my headlights swept over the front of the house and Nash’s truck sitting in the driveway. I put my car in park, then reached over and brushed Ava’s hair back from her face. “I’ll run you a bath, and then we can sit on the couch, eat ice cream, and watch whatever you want. How’s that sound?”
“Really?” Ava asked, her eyes bright and hopeful.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll get Ella to bed, and then it’s just us big girls, okay?”
She smiled—the first true smile directed at me in way too long—and nodded. Pausing as she reached for the door handle, she seemed to finally notice the other car in the driveway. “How come Nash’s truck is here?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t figure you wanted your sister along for all that. Nash was here workin’ on the porch and offered to stay with her until we got back.”
“Did you tell him?” she asked, her voice tinged with horror.
“Course not, baby. He just knew you needed me, that’s all.”
“You…you won’t tell him, right? Why you had to leave, I mean?”
“You know gettin’ your period is nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about?—”
“ Momma !”
“—but I won’t say a word if you don’t want me to.”
She exhaled a deep sigh. “Thank you.”
Once I let us both inside, Ava barely squeaked out a hello to Nash before darting down the hall to her bedroom. And, to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t faring much better than my eldest daughter. I stood just inside the doorway, feeling stupefied.
Nash and Ella sat on the couch. Or rather, Nash sat and Ella sprawled—as was her way—one little foot in Nash’s lap, the other up on his shoulder, nearly touching his face. Her arms were this way and that, her head hung off the cushion, and she was fast asleep.
And there he was, in the middle of all that chaos, quietly enjoying some Bluey . My stomach somersaulted—something I’d come to expect around him. But this time it was different because my heart flipped right along with it.
“Hey,” he said, his voice a low rumble, eyes darting over to Ella, no doubt to make sure she was still asleep. “Everything okay now?”
Had he asked me that a couple hours before, I’d have had a completely different answer for him. And even though my sister still wasn’t speaking to me and I was exhausted and feeling like I was failing left and right…yeah. Everything was okay now.