Chapter Thirty-One Jamie
Chapter Thirty-One
Jamie
“Dude. What’s wrong with you?”
Jamie looked up from the pots of yellow and orange chrysanthemums. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been watering the same flowers for twenty minutes,” Ian said. “That pallet’s gonna have to go to the clearance section if you keep that up. Can’t sell plants with root rot.”
Jamie blinked and glanced down. Sure enough, water was spilling over the rims, the soil too saturated to absorb more. “Shit, sorry.” He switched off the sprayer and tossed the hose aside, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I guess I’m a little distracted.”
Ian crossed his arms and leaned against a table packed with ornamental cabbage. “You’ve been quiet all day. Everything okay?”
“Just a lot on my mind, I guess.” A nonanswer.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Nah, but I appreciate it. Just some personal stuff I need to work through.”
Apart from his sister and mother, Ian was the only person Jamie’d told about Elliott. He didn’t know the whole story, though—just that they’d recently started dating—and despite his longstanding friendship with Ian, he didn’t want to get into the details right now.
Ian nodded. “Want to take a break? I could use some coffee and one of those chocolate croissants from Blythe’s.”
“Do you really want a croissant, or are you giving me an excuse to visit with my sister-slash-therapist?”
“Does it matter?”
“I guess not.” He clapped Ian on the shoulder, giving it a squeeze of thanks as he passed. “Be back in a bit.”
Melt My Tart was only ten minutes from the nursery, and Jamie was lucky enough to snag a parallel spot right in front of the bakery. He’d come in the middle of the afternoon lull, and the café was empty, except for one of the college students Blythe had hired sitting at the counter.
“Hi, can I help you?”
“Yeah, is Blythe here?”
“Sure, hang on a sec.” She disappeared around the corner and returned with Blythe on her heels.
Blythe raised a brow. “Ian send you to pick up his afternoon coffee and pastry?”
“Jeez, does he come in here that often?”
“Almost every day.” She grabbed the tongs and bagged a croissant before turning to the coffee pots.
Jamie snorted. “I hope you charge him extra.”
“He’s your boss, brother. His coffee’s always free.”
“He was my friend first. You don’t need to do that.”
Blythe grinned. “Yeah, but when I do, he tips way more than I’d make on the coffee.”
Jamie took the items she offered him, then glanced at the girl who’d taken her seat again near the register. “Could we chat for a sec?”
“Sure.” His sister followed his gaze and waved him behind the counter. “Why don’t you come back here? I was just about to make some cookies.”
He sipped the coffee as he followed her back, figuring he’d get Ian a fresh cup on his way out. He settled onto a stool, and Blythe slipped on an apron before she stopped in front of a sink to wash her hands.
“Sorry I couldn’t talk yesterday,” she said. He’d called her yesterday afternoon for this very reason, but she’d been at her in-laws.
“No worries. We can work out a schedule later so you’re always available when I need advice.”
“Seriously, what would you do without me?”
“I seem to remember being the advice giver for most of our teenage years. It’s my turn.”
She arched a brow, giving him that. “You did keep me away from some assholes. But don’t you have Elliott now? I bet she’s a great listener.”
He shifted, crossing his arms. Blythe was right, Elliott would be great to talk with about most things. In fact, she was arguably the most important person for him to open up to about this very issue, but ... he hadn’t. Like an asshole, he’d pulled away, too confused and mixed up to think straight. “It’s ... sort of about her.”
Blythe’s demeanor shifted in an instant, and she glared at him. “Did you screw things up already?”
“What? Why would you say that?”
She just shook her head, ponytail swinging. “You’re finally with the right person, and you barely make it two mon—”
“Will you let me explain?”
“Fine. What did you do?”
He rolled his lips between his teeth. “I ... told Carly. Everything.” At her confused expression, he started from the beginning, explaining what happened at the bookstore and why he’d called Carly in the first place. He told Blythe about their conversation and how he’d accidentally revealed he loved Elliott, which inadvertently led to the whole truth about when he’d first met her. “It was bad.”
“That’s ... damn. I’m sorry, Jamie. Telling her yourself was the right thing to do, and I think down the road you’ll be glad you got everything out in the open. But I know that wasn’t easy.”
He rubbed at his eyes and took another long drink of coffee.
“So Carly’s upset, which I get. But what happened with Elliott?”
He regarded his sister, the only other person in the world who would know the weight of what he was about to say. It was the main reason he’d wanted to talk to her and only her. No one else would understand, not really. “Carly said I was just like Dad.”
Blythe stilled, a bag of flour in her arms.
“She said I’d just used her to pass the time until something better came along. And when someone did, when Elliott did, I cast Carly aside for the newest thing. Just like Dad does.” His voice trembled on that last part. Does , present tense. Cycling through women was their dad’s pattern—past, present, and future. He’d never change because it was who he was.
Jamie had spent the last two days asking himself if that’s who he was, too.
His sister set the bag down gently and came toward him. She put her hands on his shoulders and dipped her head, looking him straight in the eye, her expression as serious as he’d ever seen it. “That’s not true. Tell me you believe that.”
“How do I know that? What Carly said was one hundred percent true—I did move on when a new woman came into the picture.” The thought he could possibly feel more for someone than he did for Elliott seemed impossible. Beyond his heart’s capacity to love. But he hadn’t even known this feeling existed before her, so what did he know?
If Elliott felt for him even a fraction of what he did for her, he couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her like his dad hurt his mom. He’d watched his mom suffer at the hands of the emotional turmoil his dad caused, and even after all this time, he didn’t think she’d ever fully recovered. The chance he might be capable—predisposed, even—of treating Elliott that way had sent him in a downward spiral of fear that he didn’t deserve her and she was better off without him.
“You’re not in the right headspace if you’re really comparing your situation with Dad’s. He hops from woman to woman, avoiding intimacy and commitment. You haven’t had many relationships, and of the ones you did, most of them lasted at least a year. That already sets you apart. So you found your one person and experienced that life-altering feeling while you happened to be with someone else. You ended the first one as gracefully and honestly as possible. You weren’t looking for the next high; you were staying true to your heart.”
She made a good point: by this point in his dad’s life, he’d probably burned through two dozen women. Still, though. “I guess hearing her say it out loud freaked me out. She said it was only a matter of time before I move on and do the same thing to Elliott that I did to her. And I just started thinking ... what if she’s right?”
Blythe looked tempted to slap him. “Can you imagine someone else fitting you better than Elliott?”
“God, no.” If he’d allowed it, Elliott’s gray eyes and beautiful smile would have been forefront on his mind every day for the last year and a half. “But I’ve been wrong before. What if I fuck up and hurt her, too?” Elliott had been through enough in her life already. He’d never forgive himself if he broke her heart on top of it.
Blythe pinched the bridge of her nose. “When you were with Carly, did you see a future with her? Did you think about your life together down the road?”
He frowned. “Not really. But we first started dating in college. We were young.”
“Well, you’re not young anymore, old man, and you still didn’t make plans because you weren’t really in it for the long haul. Elliott or no Elliott, you’d have figured that out. Carly’s just lashing out because you caught her off guard, and maybe she’s a little jealous because she’s human. I think if you let it sit for a bit, things will blow over.”
“Maybe.” He hoped she was right.
“Do you see a future with Elliott?”
If a future with Elliott meant lounging on opposite ends of the couch reading and swapping books until they were too old to see, then yes. Running together, maybe training for a few 10Ks and comparing times as they moved up in age groups? Yes. Getting a house with a yard, planting trees and flowers, maybe adopting another dog or two to fill their house with love and laughter? Definitely.
Still waking up next to her well after her hair had turned gray and lines had begun framing her eyes? He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more.
His chest tightened. “I could picture it almost from the moment I met her.”
“Then I never want to hear you compare yourself with Dad again. He doesn’t see past the next gala with these women. He’s constantly thinking ahead, planning his next move and what he needs to change in order to stay on top. If that means a new relationship, so be it. If something gets hard or doesn’t fit what he needs, he won’t hang around. Dad’s instinct is to run away. Yours is to lean in and ask how you can help. If Dad had been in your shoes, he’d have broken things off with Elliott the second it looked like he’d have to face Carly. That kind of drama and responsibility-taking isn’t his style, and no woman is worth a slice of his pride. But you faced it head-on and had the difficult conversation because what you have with Elliott is worth it. You’re worth it, okay? You’re worthy of her because you’re willing to fight for her. Even when things get tough.”
He slid his hands down his thighs to his knees, letting her words sink in. It made sense, and he wanted to believe her. Wanted to have the same confidence his sister seemed to have that he was a good man and would always do his best to do the right thing.
“I want to hear you say it,” Blythe said in the don’t-talk-back tone she used on her son. “Say ‘I’m not like Dad.’”
He squinted at her. “I don’t think—”
“ Say it. ”
God, sometimes she was terrifying. “I’m not like Dad.”
“Now, I want you to believe it.”
“You can’t make me do that one.”
She tilted her head, regarding him with the same hazel eyes he knew reflected back at her. “You will. It might take time, but something tells me this thing with Elliott will prove you’ll be a one-woman man for the rest of your life. You’ll look back on this conversation and whatever fear you’re letting take hold of you and laugh. You’ll wonder how you were ever such a dumbass.”
He stared at her, unblinking. “Jeez.”
“And I’ll say I told you so.”
She would, too. His sister never passed up an opportunity to rub being right in someone’s face. That reminded him: he couldn’t wait to witness the cheesecake showdown between her and Elliott. Because if Blythe was right, which she usually was, and he could convince Elliott to forgive him for ghosting her this weekend, that conversation was definitely in the imminent future.
He stood up and hugged her. “Thanks, sis.”
“For . . . ?”
He laughed and lightly pushed her away. “For letting me barge into your workplace, drink your coffee, and lay my deepest fears at your feet. For helping me see the big picture, and for not laughing at me.”
“I laughed on the inside, but only because you’re being such a lovesick fool.”
“I won’t argue with that.”
“It’s about time, brother. Now get out of here. I’ve got work to do.” She shooed him away. “Get Ian a new coffee so I don’t have to hear him complain tomorrow.”
He complied, and his phone buzzed in his pocket. He tossed an “I love you” over his shoulder as he reentered the café, looking at his phone screen.
The rush of relief when he saw Elliott’s name was palpable. He smiled and swiped to answer but stopped short when someone on the other line spoke first.
“Where the fuck are you?”