Chapter 25
EVERETT
The door to my office is open.
It’s not often that I go in there these days. Those walls house a lot of memories that have been too painful to think about until recently. There’s still the familiar twinge of grief that flares in my chest as I walk closer, but it’s shrouded in something soothing.
If I was more superstitious, or maybe softer—or a bit of both—I might be inclined to say that it’s Laura giving me her approval.
I’m not much of either of those things, though, so I’ll continue thinking of it as Mary’s influence.
She’s made me want to be softer and kinder to myself and to the people around me. Maybe this is the first step to that.
I hesitate for a moment outside the door to my office.
Part of me wants to step away and leave it be, but I can hear Jenny moving around and mumbling to herself.
In the past, I’ve pretended not to notice her habit of talking to the photos of her mom on the shelves in there.
She’s pretended not to notice when I go in and cry at my desk because of how much I miss Laura, too.
But the time for that is over.
I take that last step forward, knocking softly at the door frame. Jenny jolts and turns on her heel, but she relaxes when she sees it’s me. It’s been a long time since she’s been anything but tense around me, and the thought of saving our relationship firms my decision even more.
“You scared me,” Jenny says, tapping her fingers mindlessly over the corner of my desk. “What are you doing, knocking on the door of your own office?”
I grin bashfully, rubbing the back of my neck.
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” I say. “But I wanted to talk to you. And your mom.”
Jenny blinks in surprise, her fingers stilling on the desk. She follows my gaze over her shoulder to land on one of the framed photos of Laura, her lips twitching in a smile.
“Yeah.” There’s hope in her voice, and it makes my heart beat a little faster in my chest. “I was just telling her I wanted to talk to you, too.”
Somehow, it feels hard to start talking even knowing that Jenny wants to have this conversation as much as I do.
Maybe it’s because I know that she wants to fix this too, that this matters to her just like it matters to me.
We get on each other’s nerves, but she’s always been better than me when it comes to being honest. She’s good at saying what she means.
As for me, my tongue gets away from me when I’m upset.
Not this time, though. I don’t want to fuck this chance up. Especially not here.
“I talked to Mary,” I start.
Jenny rakes her eyes over me, and heat rises to my cheeks as she obviously catalogs the fact that I’m freshly showered and have changed clothes since I stormed out during breakfast. Thankfully, she doesn’t call attention to it past a teasing grin.
“Yeah?”
“She made some pretty good points,” I say, glancing at Jenny apologetically. “I ignored them when you made the same points. I’m sorry.”
Jenny looks completely flabbergasted, and it’s a little upsetting to realize that she should be.
This is the first time in years I’ve properly apologized to her, and it’s the first time ever that I’ve admitted she’s right about this.
She swallows her surprise and nods firmly, meeting my eyes with a pleased, glimmering stare of her own.
“She’s good at getting people to listen.”
We continue staring at each other for a long moment, neither of us entirely sure how to talk to each other anymore.
“I’m… not,” I admit with a wince. “And I’m not great at listening, either.”
Jenny snorts, but there’s almost no frustration in the sound. It’s been years since I’ve actually heard a laugh from her.
“If I listen to your side of things—really listen—can I tell you what it’s been like for me?” I ask. “I want my daughter to know me, and I want to know my daughter.”
It feels like I’m holding out an olive branch with the world’s most unsteady hand, but Jenny takes pity on me. She smiles at me. It’s a real smile, open and welcoming, the kind she hasn’t directed toward me in over half a decade, and I have to swallow hard to stop myself from tearing up.
“I’ll listen if you will,” she says.
It’s one of the most important promises we’ve ever made to each other. I won’t screw up this time.
“I was a kid when I met your mom,” I say, smiling softly at the picture of her.
“I won the damn jackpot with her. I won’t pretend things were always easy—I was a stubborn asshole and she didn’t put up with any of my shit.
But when she died, I didn’t think I’d ever find something like that again.
I didn’t want to find it, either. I was so scared that I’d disgrace Laura’s memory by falling for the wrong person that I just holed myself away here to rot.
I wasn’t ready to admit that I was making everything around me rot, too. ”
Jenny’s eyes are dark with grief, both old and new, and it hurts to see just how much I’ve hurt her. If I’d known that I had to be kind to myself before I could ever hope to offer the same to her, well… I don’t know what I would have done. I probably still would have fucked it up.
I wasn’t ready to make a change before, but now, I’m willing to do whatever it takes.
“I thought Mary was annoying as all hell when she showed up,” I say, laughing to myself and shaking my head.
“She was too damn pretty and she wouldn’t stop smiling, and I couldn’t get her to leave me alone.
Somewhere along the way, I realized that she really was just trying to help me, and then I realized I’d fallen for her.
She managed to remind me that I’m allowed to be happy. ”
“You deserve to be happy,” Jenny corrects me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “That’s all Mom ever wanted for you. That’s all I wanted for you.”
I reach out for her hand, taking a steadying breath when she smiles and squeezes my fingers in hers. Her palm is smaller and softer than mine, but she’s got plenty of calluses from growing up on the ranch.
“I’m sorry for making it hard on you,” I whisper. “Thank you for trying over and over.”
Jenny laughs, shaking her head. The sound is a little teary, but for the first time in forever, they’re happy tears on her cheeks.
“I’m glad someone finally managed to get through to you,” she says. “Can I have a hug?”
“Of course you can.”
I pull her in close, squeezing her tightly against my chest. It’s been years since I’ve hugged her, and it’s a bit overwhelming. She politely pretends not to feel the tears that slip down my cheeks, and I pretend not to feel the way her shoulders shake.
If this is what a real step forward feels like, I want to start making leaps and bounds.
Jenny holds onto me for a long moment, and I have to force myself to release her when she lets me go. I’m committed to not screwing things up again, so I won’t have to ration hugs from her. I can do this, side by side with her, and we’ll rebuild our family together.
“I want to talk about the ranch, too,” she says as she steps back, wiping her cheeks.
“Mary said she had some clients she wanted to meet with,” I say. “I agreed to go to anything you two set up if you need me there.”
Her eyes twinkle with pride and gratitude, and she smiles so widely I almost worry her face will split in two.
She glances back toward her favorite picture.
It’s the only nice one of all of us: Laura and I are smiling widely at the camera, Jenny and Wayne are both young and half buried in the sand at the beach.
I’m pretty sure we asked a passerby to take it for us.
We got Laura’s diagnosis two weeks later.
“Your girlfriend is in charge of dinner tonight,” Jenny says, turning to look at me. “We were going to go over some stuff together. It’d be helpful if you were there, too.”
I hesitate, but there’s no malice in her eyes. She doesn’t look upset at all. Actually, she looks excited.
“My girlfriend?” I ask, a small smile on my lips.
“Unless you two aren’t big on labels,” she says with a shrug.
My smile widens until my cheeks hurt, and I nod in agreement.
I don’t bother to mention Mary’s uncertainty about what will happen after all this is said and done.
Like Laura always told me, there’s no use borrowing grief from the future.
Whatever happens will happen, and we’ll figure it out as it goes.
I’ve got some ideas on how to handle that all, anyway.
It feels good to get Jenny’s approval, even so casually. It’s more our style than elaborate apologies and explanations are anyway.
“Alright,” I say. “Yeah, I’ll join you two for dinner.”
“It’ll be ready at seven,” she says.
I turn toward the door, ready to get a start on the day now that I don’t feel so overwhelmingly exhausted and guilty. She reaches out for my hand, stopping me before I make it to the door.
“Thanks, Dad,” she says, squeezing my fingers before letting them go.
I take a deep breath, my smile coming easy and carefree.
“Anything for you, kiddo.”
I go through the rest of my day almost in a haze.
It’s nearly noon by the time I make it out to the fields, and the boys are thrilled to see me.
I feel bad for leaving them to fend for themselves, but they know I don’t take any time off unless I really have to.
This morning was important, and it looks like things are only going uphill from here.
Tony and Bill make a good team, and they’ve been running the show all morning, so I let them keep at it. I jump in wherever someone can use an extra hand, focusing on keeping things moving along. It’s one of the most productive days we’ve had in a long time.
Al calls me about an hour before we wrap up for the day, letting me know that he’s back home and safe.
The doctors didn’t clear him to come back to work, but I don’t care much about that.
I’m just glad he’s walking and talking again.
I’ll be there to help him through whatever’s left to come.
I make a mental note to go see him this weekend.
Maybe Jenny and I can fix him up some cinnamon rolls.
God knows the man has a sweet tooth to rival the Pillsbury Doughboy.
I head inside just before seven to rinse my face off and change into something a little cleaner.
The scent of garlic bread and sauce is already heavy in the air, and my stomach rumbles loudly by the time I make it to the kitchen. Jenny is sitting at the table, glass of wine in hand, and she smiles at me as I come in.
I round the counter and wrap an arm around Mary’s waist, kissing her softly when she looks up with a laugh.
It feels so right that I worry my chest might explode from how happy I am.
“Did you work up an appetite?” she asks teasingly.
She turns in my arms to kiss me again, and I can do nothing but smile.
“I could eat,” I say.
“Good,” Jenny says from the table. “We’ve got a lot to go over.”
She sounds stern, but not harsh. It’s the same tone she always uses when she’s focused on business, and it’s comforting in its familiarity. I’m still nervous about what it’ll mean to go through with all this, but I refuse to back out now.
It’s time to get out of my comfort zone.
It’s time to do this right.
“Hey,” Mary says, reaching up to rub her thumb over the crease in my brows in an attempt to smooth it away. “Stop worrying so much. Jenny and I will be right there with you.”
I blow out a relieved sigh, the sound fading into a laugh.
“Alright,” I say with a nod. “Let’s do this. I’ll set the table?”
Mary smiles at me before turning her attention back to the pasta sauce, and I start over toward the cabinet to pull down plates.
“I could use some more wine, while you’re at it,” Jenny says.
I chuckle to myself, hiding my eye roll before turning to face her, plates in hand.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, grinning widely.
If only I had known things could be this easy.