Chapter 29 #2
He shakes his head, a scowl forming on his face.
I think I’ve messed up when his hand lands roughly on my shoulder.
I’m surprised I don’t plummet into the ground.
Piper says her dad is a softy, but I’ve also heard from Oliver that he’s also rough to the point that he wanted his daughter to try out for the football team.
“That makes me sound too old.” He barks out a laugh. “Please call me John. My daughter speaks pretty highly of you, and that’s rare for someone she’s just met—especially when it’s not one of those goddamn boys she runs around with.”
“Mr. Ralston—” John arcs a brow. “I mean, John. Thank you so much for the space. I don’t think we’d have half as many people interested if it weren’t for you.”
“I may not say it much, but Oliver is a hard-working kid. He might be reckless from time to time—don’t get me started on the trouble him and Jaxon get into—but he’s also had a hard life. Most would have expected him just to give up, but he’s here every shift, ready to do anything we need that day.”
Warmth floods my whole being.
John pulls out his wallet. “If I can help, I want to. Just make sure he doesn’t know. Can’t let these boys think I’ve gone soft on them.”
He pulls a few bills out, but before he can hand them to me, Piper comes out of nowhere and snatches the money from her father.
“Told you he’s a big softy!” Piper sings while walking over to Tyler and giving him a quick kiss before dropping the money in the box.
“I better hear nothing about this from them, especially Jaxon. I still don’t like him!”
John walks off toward his daughter, and I find myself sorting through the remnants of the sale. I think after a few of the donations we’ve gotten from people, we might have raised a little over half of the cost needed.
The plan was for me to cover the rest of the cost with the money I got from the Gordons.
They didn’t leave me much, but it was enough to cover expenses this summer.
The idea of using their money for myself leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but using it for Oliver is different. He deserves the best.
I take picture frames from the table full of power tools and walk over to the family heirloom table.
While all the pictures were removed, I didn’t know how else to organize them.
We have a rack of old clothes—mostly my birth mom’s since Damian must have only worn jeans and polos.
Christina at least had blouses, dresses, and some heels.
After tidying a few more tables with leftover dishes and books, I rake my hand through the different dresses my birth mom wore. She never really wore them when I was around.
Maybe she started wearing them again when I was out of her hair. My hand pats over the fabric until it runs over something different. There’s a shift near the waist that doesn't feel like just cloth.
My brows pinch together, and my hand searches the area again, feeling another bit of resistance as my fingers glide over it. That’s when I see a pocket stitched within the dress and find a piece of paper inside.
A pit forms in my stomach to the point that I’m surprised my lunch doesn’t fall on the surrounding floor.
The paper shakes in my hand a little more. I should be through with them. The twist in my stomach is from anticipating their words, but also the relief from being one step closer to closing the door on this chapter.
But if this means closing the door, what does that mean for Oliver and me? We promised to end this when summer ended, but I also didn’t think we’d sleep together. The thought causes my stomach to flip for a completely different reason from before.
Shooing the thought away, I unfold the paper.
Dear Simon,
Today, you’re fourteen or maybe fifteen years old.
Last year was the first year I didn’t think about you on a constant basis.
That makes me sound like an awful mother, doesn’t it?
A mother shouldn’t forget her son’s birthday or how old they are.
The years used to feel so long, but then three years went by in a flash.
I must be the worst mom in the world, and you probably hate us still.
I’m not sure if we deserve to be forgiven, but it would make me feel better.
Do you know how much it’s messed with my head thinking I’ve messed up your life in a way that can’t be healed?
Maybe I am the worst mother. Your father doesn’t like talking about it, so I can’t really talk about these feelings with him.
Every time I try, he reverts back to before that day, and I can’t lose the man I love again.
Heat pricks the backs of my eyes, but I rub them raw to take away any wetness gathering around. I refuse to cry for them anymore. Christina was afraid of losing the love of her life, and I understand the sentiment.
But that also meant she had to forget me and harm me in a way that I’m still healing from. Maybe I’ll never heal from it. I’ll just learn to move on. The start of me feeling unworthy of love started with them and continued with Dalton.
I might be unworthy of it, but I also wanted to cling to the remnants forming around me with my true family, my found family, and Oliver.
“What is happening here?”
My head snaps to see Oliver as he looks around the patio and sees all the tables. I barely have time to catch my breath before he marches across the space and stands in front of me.
My grip tightens on the letter, crushing it into a ball in my palm.
Oliver stares down at me with a hard expression, but it quickly softens. He whispers, “Why do you look like you’re about to cry?”
Fuckity fuck, I didn’t want him to see the little bit of weakness from Christina’s words.
I bite my lip. “Nothing, Ollie. Just a little bit of sand from the beach blew in my eyes.”
He gives me a suspicious look but drops it. “What’s going on with the…garage sale? Can it be called that if it’s not in a garage?”
With that, I motion to all the items, and right on time, a lady picks out one of the picture frames and hands money to Piper.
Oliver turns back to me with brows raised. Piper makes eye contact with me and winces before running back inside.
“Sally,” he whispers when my eyes drop to the floor. “What is all of this?”
“I hated the idea of you giving up. You came home exhausted the past couple of days, and it feels like you are giving up on your dreams. It hurts, Oliver, and if it hurts me, I can’t even imagine what it’s doing to you. So, I got people together and organized this sale to raise money for you.”
My eyes finally drag up his body to see his jaw tick at my words. I knew the idea of people helping him would be upsetting, but I’m not going to back down.
“I told you I had it handled.”
“You shouldn’t have to handle everything alone. Let people help you like you help them. Do you even know how easy it was to set this up and sell these things?”
Oliver drops his head, but the frown doesn’t leave his lips. “I want to be mad right now, but when you say it like that, I’d feel like an asshole.”
“You would be an asshole if you yelled at me. I might be okay with that in the bedroom, but definitely not in public. I might cry.”
His eyes flare at my insinuation. “Are we adding a new kink to the roster? Anything else you want to add?”
“I’m sure we can figure it out.” I give him a little wiggle of my brow with a smirk.
“Sally,” he hisses before turning toward the bar. “Piper, can you handle whatever this is for the rest of the night?”
“What? Oliver, I can’t just leave this to everyone. It was my idea.”
Piper pops her head out. “We’ll clean it all up. Have a good night.”
My mouth gapes open. “Oliver, no, I need to stay and help.”
Before I can argue more, Oliver sweeps around me, picking my body up like a feather and tossing me over his broad shoulder.
“Sorry, princess, but you just put the thought of us sleeping together in my head, and it’s time for me to make good on my promise. I promised to worship your body, and I’ve been lacking on that front.”
With that, we walk off the patio and head toward the house.