Chapter Thirteen
Harte
Jet’s mother stared at me as if I were an intruder, but I swallowed my fear to greet her with a tentative smile. “He-hello, Mrs. Saunders.”
She nodded to me. “You’re Jet’s friend.”
Damn, I was forty years old, yet she had me feeling like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar.
“Yes, ma’am. My name is Harte. Jet should be home around 8:15.”
“I know.”
This wasn’t going well. “Would you like to sit down? Can I make you a cup of coffee or tea?”
“I can do it myself, thank you.” She set her purse on the couch on the way to the kitchen. The air was so cold between us, it felt like I was outside in the snow-filled yard, but I was determined to make every effort because I knew Jet loved her.
“If you’d like to talk, I’m willing.”
“Talk? About what?” She set the kettle on the stove and took out a tea bag.
This was ridiculous. “That Jet and I are in a relationship. One you seem to disapprove of.”
“I don’t approve or disapprove. I don’t know anything about you.
The first time I meet you, I’m also finding out my son likes men as well as women.
What did your parents say when you told them?
I don’t know what to think.” She bowed her head for a moment, and I waited, giving her the time she needed because she obviously had things to say.
“I have nothing against you, personally. But you come here and go after my son—”
“Whoa, wait a second, please.” Shaking my head, I strode over to her. “That is not what happened. At all. You’ve been misinformed or drawn incorrect conclusions. And for the record, my parents are both dead.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t have a problem with gay people—”
“Except when it comes to your family,” I finished for her, and watched her cheeks burn red.
She busied herself, pouring the hot water and steeping her tea. “I didn’t say that.”
No, but you didn’t have to. The words hung in the air.
“I’m not gay. I was married for over ten years.
Jet is the first and only man I’ve ever been with.
I didn’t come to Appleton Falls to ‘get him.’ I didn’t even know he lived here.
We were on the same team in college, but I’m four years older, and I didn’t remember him at first. But when we met this time…
I don’t know.” I dropped my gaze to the kitchen counter.
“I felt a connection. We both did. And for the first time in my life, I decided to take a chance. I don’t want to hurt you.
I want us to get along. Jet loves you, and I don’t want anything or anyone to come between you. Including me.”
“I just want him to be happy. Being with a man is only going to make it harder.”
“For him or for you?” I met her steely eyes. “Is it Jet you’re worried about or yourself? Are you ashamed to tell your friends and neighbors that your son is in love with a man? Worried that people might gossip?”
“No, of course not. But you can’t deny it won’t be easy.”
I allowed myself to smile. “What relationship is? I’ve met your daughter, and she has no issue—in fact, she invited me for Christmas dinner. Jet’s told his partner, and there’s no problem there either. People fall in love all the time with the unexpected.”
“Are you telling me you’re in love with my son?” Her tea forgotten, she stared at me, but whether she was happy or upset, I couldn’t tell.
“Yes. I love him, very much. He’s the kindest, most caring person I’ve ever met, and all I want is to make him as happy as he makes me.”
“And what is it that you do for a living, if you don’t mind me asking? I haven’t heard that you have a job or a way to support yourself.”
“I’m retired. I played professional football.”
She blinked. “Oh?”
Apparently, no one had filled her in on who I was.
“I played for several teams but retired from the Brooklyn Kings. So you can be assured, I’m not with Jet for money.”
“You said you were married. Do you have any children?”
“No. My ex never wanted any.”
“And you? Is that something you want?”
The questions were nosy, but I was happy she was talking to me at least, and without resentment or anger.
“I might. I like children, but it’s a huge commitment. It’s something Jet and I haven’t discussed.”
She picked up her teacup and took a sip.
I waited, but if it was for acceptance or a death sentence, I couldn’t be sure.
Jet’s mother didn’t need to be my best friend, but I didn’t want the woman to hate my guts.
As nice as it would be to have the kind of relationship Dev had with Brody’s mother, Brenda Saunders didn’t feel like the warm-and-fuzzy type.
“His father and I had dreams for Jet. When he was accepted to play football in college, we’d hoped he would make the pros, but that didn’t happen.
Then we lost my husband, and Jet came home and tried his best to help.
Maybe I placed too heavy a burden on him.
All I ever wanted was for him to reach his potential, but he never seemed happy. Until now.”
My breath caught. “I guess he was still trying to figure out what was right for him. I know I always did what was expected of me, which in hindsight might not have been the best thing for me.” Impulsively, I reached across the island and held out my hand.
“Please, Mrs. Saunders. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance and not dismiss me without getting to know who I am.
I want us to get along. I love Jet, and I know us getting along will make him happy.
And Jet’s happiness is the only thing that matters to me. ”
Her eyes filled, and she gazed at my face, then at my outstretched hand. She took it, and it was as big a victory to me as my first Super Bowl win. Bigger.
“Call me Brenda. Please.”
The door opened, and Jet entered the house, calling out, “Mom? Harte?”
Even across the length of the house, I could see his face turn from wary to joyful when he registered that Brenda and I held hands.
“Hi. I see you two have met.”
“I came over early,” I explained. “I figured I’d order us dinner, but I fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up, your mom had let herself in, and we had a chat.”
“Mom?” Jet asked. “Is everything all right?”
“I think so.” Brenda looked to me before Jet.
“If the choice is between losing my son or gaining another, I’ll choose to keep both of you.
I’m sorry if I made it difficult for you in any way, honey.
Harte and I spoke, and I understand now.
I might make mistakes, but never doubt how much I love you. I only want you to be happy.”
“I love you too, and I am, finally. Knowing that you can accept me as I am means everything.” They hugged, and Jet came to me and took my hand in his. “Let’s sit, and I’ll tell you my news.”
“What? What happened?” Brenda and I chorused.
“I told everyone at work tonight that I’m bisexual. We had an encounter at Sweeny’s bar, where some gay men were being harassed, and I couldn’t stand by and let the idiots think they had the upper hand.”
“I am so damn proud of you,” I whispered, and Brenda wiped a tear away.
“I am too,” she said. “It takes courage, knowing you couldn’t stay silent and simply let injustice happen around you.
You did the right thing.” She held Jet by the shoulders.
“And if I’ve ever led you to think, even for one minute, that I would turn my back on you, I need to be a better mother and person. ”
“None of us are perfect. But yeah…I was afraid of losing you.”
Brenda hugged him fiercely. “Never. You’re stuck with me.” Her laugh was watery, and I had to wipe the tears from my lashes.
Jet met my eyes, and after Brenda let him go, he stood by me. “So you’re okay with Harte and me and our relationship? We’re going to be at Laura and Shane’s for Christmas, along with everyone else. People might ask questions.”
“Let them. I’ll have some answers. All that matters is that it’ll be a true family Christmas.”
In an effort to keep the goodwill going, I had to say something. “Brenda, we were going to have dinner and decorate the tree. We’d love if you could join us.”
Jet squeezed my hand. “Yeah, Mom. That would be great.”
I could see how touched she was by my suggestion. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your night.”
“You wouldn’t be. At all,” I stated firmly. “I was thinking of ordering Italian.”
“Sounds good.” Jet rubbed his stomach . “Get me the chicken parm. Mom?”
“If you’re sure…”
“Which we are.” I smiled. “What would you like?”
“Chicken marsala, please.”
“All right. I’ll place the order.”
The food came quickly. We sat at the island, eating, and I listened to Brenda tell stories of Jet growing up.
“It’s nice to have good memories.” Perhaps I sounded sad, as Brenda set her fork and knife on the plate.
“I’m so sorry.” Brenda sounded distressed. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” I assured her. “I left home a very long time ago, and my parents and I had an okay relationship. They were proud of me when I was drafted and got married. I know, like you, they wanted a grandchild, but that never happened. But I did what they asked of me because they were my parents and I wanted to make them happy.”
Her eyes filled. “But what about your happiness?”
“I’m happy now.” Jet and I shared a heartfelt glance. “And I’ve had a very good life. I can’t complain.”
“Let’s do up the tree.” Jet bounced to his feet and grabbed the dishes. Brenda stood to collect the rest, but I whisked them out of her hands.
“Nope. That’s my job.”
I cleaned up, Jet took out the boxes, and we had a wonderful evening together, decorating the tree and the fireplace. After that, Jet took out the ladder, and we strung lights on the outside of the house.
“It looks wonderful.” Brenda turned her face up to the sky. “And it’s starting to snow again.”
“Mom, you shouldn’t drive if it starts to come down harder.” Jet frowned. “You could stay over.”
“No, thank you. I’ll leave you two now. The roads aren’t covered, and it’ll only take me a few minutes. Can you go get my purse, please?” Jet left us, and I walked her to her car. “I had a wonderful night.”
“I did too. You mentioned memories. I think we’re creating our own new ones.”
She smiled. “I do too.” Jet returned and gave Brenda her handbag. “I think it’s time I returned your keys. I don’t want to be barging in on you again.” She handed them to Jet and took out her phone. “Shall we take a picture? Our first Christmas decorating night?”
We stood facing the street, and Jet stood in the middle, his arms around our waists. Brenda took one of Jet and me, and I took one of her and Jet. We were all smiling, and with the lightly falling snow and the colorful lights and wreaths, it could’ve been a Christmas card. Maybe one day.
Assuring us she’d call and let us know she made it home safely, we watched her drive off, not going into the house until her taillights disappeared. Hand in hand, we reentered the house.
“Staying over tonight?” Jet asked and went to build up the fire from the load of kindling on the rack.
“If you want.”
“Mmm, I want.”
I got us beers, and we relaxed on the couch, Jet laying with his head on my lap.
“So you think everything’ll be okay with your deputies? They were cool?”
“Yeah, surprisingly so. It was good.”
I knew how worried he’d been, and I bent to press my lips to his. “Even your sergeant?”
Jet sighed, and his lips pulled down. “He’s going to take a while. But I don’t care. I can’t live my life for someone else’s approval. I’d regret it.”
“You know what I regret?” I pulled him to me so I could kiss his lips. “That all these years, I didn’t have the courage to stand up for who I am.”
“That’s the beauty of life. Every new day is an opportunity. A chance to start fresh.”
We kissed, our tongues tangling and playing while I held his face between the palms of my hands.
“I love you, Harte. I just want to be enough.”
“You’re more than enough. You’re everything.”