Chapter 14 #2
We passed the next ten minutes in silence.
Outside my SUV, dusk was upon us, the sun having set about half an hour ago.
Both sides of the road had barren fields rolling to the horizon, too early in April for any hint of the crops that were to come.
Our silence wasn’t awkward but comfortable.
I had the same feeling of “rightness” that had filled me up whenever I was around Jules from the moment we met.
It was as if part of my soul recognized hers, which absolutely sounded like something woo-woo that Ivy would say.
I made a mental note to never say that in her presence because I knew I’d never hear the end of it.
I drove through the curves of the road, the only vehicle visible for miles.
That peaceful bubble of denial of our present circumstances that I was enjoying, however, was not to last.
“What do you know about your parents’ accident?” Jules asked as she slid her hand onto my thigh. Just her touch grounded me, and I had a feeling she knew that.
I sighed and ran through the events of the evening. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was just a bit past eight. All this had unfolded in the past ninety minutes. Unreal at how quickly everything could change.
“One of the partners at my father’s office called.
My parents were headed home from a fundraiser when my dad lost control of the car and ran into a tree.
” Even as I said it, I could hear the lack of emotion in my voice.
That likely wasn’t healthy, but it was something to deal with later.
“Ivy’s parents called me shortly after. They were at the same gathering and saw the accident, then stayed at the scene until the ambulance got there and followed it to the hospital.
They’re the ones who told me the outlook was not good.
” I slid my hand onto Jules’s on my thigh, squeezing it briefly before returning it to the steering wheel.
“Are they still at the hospital?” Jules asked.
“Yeah, they’re staying until I get there or…” I trailed off, thinking Jules would get it. If my parents passed, there would be no reason for the Jameses to wait around.
“Oh, Noah. How are you doing with this?” Jules sounded near tears herself.
I quickly looked over to give her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Better than I should be,” I said quietly. She looked at me quizzically, and I got my eyes back to the road. “I lost them a long time ago, Jules.”
“It’s not the same,” she said quietly.
“No, it isn’t, but in some ways this loss is less painful.”
“How?” Her tone betrayed her confusion and doubt. I knew she thought I was lying to myself, downplaying the hurt. Maybe I was, but I had my doubts.
“This separation from them if they do pass and it sounds like, unfortunately for them, that is the likely conclusion, isn’t their choice.
They aren’t choosing to leave me and their grandchild behind.
But they did make that choice six years ago and they haven’t changed their mind even though they had many opportunities to do so.
That hurt more, you know? That they would rather go through life without us than with us just because I wasn’t conforming to what they considered acceptable.
” My heart ached just thinking about it.
There was nothing that Addie could ever do that would make me want to turn my back on her.
Not for the first time, hell, not for the hundredth, I wondered why my parents were the way they were.
“I’m so sorry, Noah.” Jules’s voice had so much compassion laced through it; I felt it like warmth around me.
“For what, kitten? You aren’t responsible for the actions of adults you’ve never met.” I gave her a small smile in the dim light of the car, trying to reassure her.
She squeezed my thigh. “Silly, I’m not sorry for them, I’m sorry you’ve lived your life with parents who didn’t reinforce to you on a daily basis the amazing person you have grown into.”
The highway lay ahead of us like the yellow brick road taking us to the wizard, but there would be no wonderful land at the end of this one. I tried to take my brain to the end of our trip, of what I would find there, and just couldn’t. Instead, I focused on Jules’s words.
“Is that what your parents do for you? Remind you of who you are?” I tried to conjure up what Jules’s mom and dad would be like, but I was coming up blank.
Jules let out a small chuckle. “I don’t know, you could say that.
My parents are flighty and forgetful. My mom loves to be dramatic, but I’ve never questioned their love for me.
They might forget to pay a bill or to wear shoes out of the house when they’re going to the store, but I know they have my best interests at heart even when I don’t want to admit it. ”
“Sounds like a story there,” I noted. I felt rather than saw her shrug.
“Yeah, I guess. My mom freaked when she came to visit me almost two months back. She decided I was overworked and not supported and begged me to move to Highland Falls so that Lou could watch over me after what Lou termed my ‘Chicago meltdown,’ though I think that is a high exaggeration.” Jules’s tone was tolerant and full of obvious affection even if she didn’t agree.
“Why not move to wherever your parents live, not that I want you anywhere but Highland Falls,” I said with a bit of a possessive growl.
“My parents are nomads,” Jules said, sounding indulgent. “They retired to live in a motor home and are always on the move.”
“Ahh.” From what I’d gleaned from Jules in the short time I’d known her, I couldn’t imagine her in a RV. She’d want far more stability than that. Sounded like both of us had parents completely different than we were, though not in the same way.
“Yeah, it’s a good life for them, and I think retirement is the happiest I’ve seen them, which is saying something.
I wish I got to see them more or that when I did see them wasn’t time there and gone in a flash, but it is what it is,” she said, her voice trailing off a bit at the end as she stared out the window into the dark.
I didn’t want to interrupt her thoughts, so I concentrated on the road and the quiet music filling the car.
Within a few minutes, Jules’s head dropped and I looked over to see that she had drifted off.
I wished we were stopped so I could watch her sleep, though that sounded positively creepy.
When she was awake, she often had a little wrinkle of concern between her brows, but in sleep it was gone.
My hands itched to smooth that spot often, and I wished for a day where she wouldn’t have whatever her stressors were on a daily basis.
For the next three hours I felt comfort from Jules’s mere presence next to me with her adorable light snore, which I would never mention.
Not being alone allowed the memories to come and not feel quite so painful.
As scenes from childhood flitted through my mind, I wished I could say I saw at least a time or two where my parents had clearly cared for me, allowing me to find a small comfort in what was bound to be a hard night, but I didn’t.
Instead, I saw my upbringing for what it was—an inconvenience to them as I tried my hardest to make them happy but failed miserably every time.
The one lesson they’d left me with was to ensure I didn’t parent in any way like them.
Finally I exited Interstate 90 for our final ten miles to the hospital and began to wonder when I should wake Jules.
I knew she’d be pissed that she’d slept through the drive, but it had been a gift.
Unwittingly, she’d allowed me to begin the grieving process, such as it would be, before I even knew if it would be needed.
However, in one way or another I’d been mourning our relationship for years.
As I did my final turn in to the parking lot for the emergency department, Jules started when the sound of a siren permeated even our peaceful bubble. She sat up, looked around, glanced at the time, and gasped. “Oh, Noah, I’m so sorry.”
I pulled into a spot and put the car in park, undoing my seat belt as I turned to face Jules. I grabbed her hands, which were, of course, flailing as she murmured to herself, negative words about how could she have possibly fallen asleep on the job. It was adorable.
“Kitten,” I began before she interrupted me.
“Three times,” she murmured, though I’m not certain if she was speaking to me or herself.
“Three times what?” I asked because I had to know.
She looked at me in alarm. That told me she wasn’t aware she had said that aloud. That was even better.
“Umm, three times you’ve called me kitten.” She worried her lower lip between her teeth like she was uncertain what I’d think about that.
I leaned forward to kiss her nose. “That’s because you are my ferocious little kitten. And I love that you thought you needed to be awake the whole way up to ‘be here’ for me, but honestly, just having you by my side was the comfort I hadn’t realized I needed. So thank you for that.”
She sat back, clearly more relaxed at my words, then turned toward the hospital. “Should we go?”
I nodded but didn’t move. Finally I looked her way. “This is like Pandora’s box, you know?”
Jules’s gaze was warm and understanding in the parking lot lights. She reached for my hand once again. “I’m here for whatever you want to do.”
I took a deep breath and said, “Let’s go.”