21. CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 21
Rose
" H ey, Mama."
I saw Jude come into the kitchen in running gear. He liked to go for a run in the mornings like Gray did. I had woken up early; actually, I hadn't slept well. I went for a swim and decided to start my day.
"Morning, baby. You hungry?"
He shook his head and sat down at the breakfast nook. "I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee and some orange juice, though."
I loved taking care of my family, and it was a dream come true that I could do it in Angel's Rest's kitchen.
I set a cup of coffee with a little milk like he liked in front of him, along with a glass of freshly pressed orange juice.
I went back to getting the proofed dough into pans, so we'd have fresh bread for breakfast. Nothing beat the smell of freshly baked dough. I loved to have that cozy scent permeate our home in Atlanta and now here.
"Mama, do you have time to talk?" Jude asked politely.
"Anytime, son." I smiled and gave him a sheepish look. "Just give me five minutes to get these in the oven, and then I’m all yours."
My heart beat faster. I was nervous about what he was going to say. Would he tell me I'd been a terrible mother? My biggest fear was being accused of that or being a bad wife. And ultimately, if he did say that, he wouldn't be wrong. In the end, I ran away from home without ever talking to anyone about my struggles. But I didn't know how to. After a lifetime of suppressing every feeling and desire deep within me, I found myself struggling to express myself. My inability to show my true feelings was evident, especially in how flustered I became around Gray. Instead of maintaining my usual patience and calm, I found myself reacting with anger, unable to articulate my thoughts coherently.
I got a cup of black coffee and sat across from Jude.
As soon as I set my coffee on the table, my son took my hands in both of his, surprising me. "Mama, I'm so sorry."
I blinked back tears. "Why, baby? You have nothing to be—"
"Yes, I do," he cut in. "You're a remarkable woman. Look at how you run this B how you made sure we had everything we could ever want at home. Our friends loved coming over because you took care of them. I" —he stopped talking, and my heart hurt for the tears that filled his eyes— "have been a jerk to you. Always…always making you feel small by bringing up how you never went to university. And—"
"No," I protested, changing how our hands were tangled up so I could now hold his. "I have a complex about not being educated. That's not on you. And —"
"I've been to therapy, too, Mama." He smiled wanly at me. "I know I've been terrible to you. Please don't say I haven't cause that would be a lie."
I didn't want to hurt my son by digging up the past, but he was right; I had to be honest with him. I'd brought all this upon myself by not speaking my truth.
"Yes, son, you hurt me when you made fun of me for getting a quote wrong or talking about something you didn't think I had the right to discuss."
It was like cracking my chest open and letting him look in and see the hurt, the festering wounds, all of it. I let go of his hands. It was so hard to say these things, harder when I was touching him, wanting nothing more than to comfort him. "It hurt to know my children don't respect me." I didn't bring up Gray's disrespect because I'd never speak poorly of him with the children.
He nodded. "I know. I didn't respect you, Mama, but…that's on me and not you. I've been struggling."
"What?"
He nodded and gave me a self-deprecating half-smile. "I've been struggling at school. It was harder than I thought it would be, and I felt ashamed of myself. I didn't tell Dad because he's this hotshot architect. I don't think I'll ever be that good. Willow is going to become a doctor. So, the only way to make myself feel better was by…I'm so sorry…by making sure someone else was below me in the family, so I wouldn't be dead last."
His honesty was stunning.
It was clear he had been to therapy, I thought with some relief. It had made a big difference for me, and I knew it would help him.
"What are you struggling with?" I asked.
He let out a harsh laugh. "I hurt you, and you still want to know what's bothering me? Can’t you see how wonderful you are? You’re so generous, Mama, and I was out there judging people by their education and money instead of their goodness. But you—you’re the best of us. You volunteer, you’re always there for everyone. Hell, Mama, you were even kind to Grandma, and she was a bitch to you."
These were words I never thought I'd hear from my children or husband. I never thought anyone even noticed what I did, and how hard I worked to be a good mother and wife. The fact was that he had eased my aching heart a little.
"Don't call your grandma that," I scolded softly.
"She was a bi…," he grumbled, trailing off.
"It's okay, Jude." I put my hands on his. "You're my son, and I love you unconditionally . That will never change." I chuckled softly, adding a teasing quality to my tone, "Maybe how much I liked you went up and down from time to time, but never my love for you."
He grinned. "I love you too, Mama. And I'm so sorry . I promise I'll do better every day with you. Every fucking day."
"Jude, language," I reprimanded.
He laughed now, a clean laugh. "Yeah, Mama. I'll be keepin' my language decent around you." He sobered then. "You raised us, you know that? You taught us the difference between right and wrong, and yet I fu…messed up big time. I'm sorry about that."
"Let it go, Jude. I have." I patted his hand. "We look forward, okay? There's so much to look ahead to rather than back."
"It's going to take some time for me to come to terms with who I became around you," he told me quietly. "And I'll never not feel guilty, but I will put it behind me, eventually. I'm going to need time."
"Take all the time you need, son. I'm not goin' anywhere."
He arched an eyebrow and waved a hand to indicate the house we were in.
I laughed. "Well, not emotionally, at least."
"You like livin' here?" he asked.
"Very much. I love this island, this house. Malou…she's leaving the B what more could I want?"
Feeling uncomfortable with this line of conversation, I got up and went to the other side of the kitchen island.
"Mama, Dad will give you money," Jude said confidently.
I pulled out the big bowl of yogurt I'd set in the fridge last night. I made my own yogurt with whole milk. It was better than store-bought, and the guests loved it.
"Mama?" Jude prompted.
"Honey, some things are between your father and me, yeah? Just know that I'm taken care of no matter what. Your father and I both love you unconditionally regardless of our marital status."
Jude's head bowed. "You're really going to leave him?"
"I already did, Jude," I reminded him. "I'm not going back to that life. I…I don't know if I should talk to you about this. It's not your burden to carry."
"I want to know," Jude insisted.
I added some heavy cream to the bowl of yogurt and began to whip it gently with a whisk. "While y'all were home, it was okay, even good, sometimes great. Just life with its ups and downs. But after, I felt like I was disappearing, becoming invisible."
"Dad told me how when we were at home, he'd always come for dinner, but after we left he just started to work longer and longer hours."
I raised my eyebrows. Gray never talked about his feelings to anyone.
Jude grinned. "We had a long chat when we drove down here yesterday. He knows he fu…messed up. He knows that he made you feel lonely."
"Nobody can do that to you; that's something you do to yourself," I snapped. As soon as Gray was in the conversation, my calm and cool evaporated like water on a hot griddle.
" Because you're angry with him, Rose. Very angry with him and justifiably so," Dr. Mercer said at our latest teletherapy session.
"I don't hold on to anger. I'm not that person," I objected.
"We are all that person, Rose. Your husband may not have been screwing around, but what he did feels like a betrayal to you. He abandoned you at every step of your marriage, and you made all the compromises. You worked hard to become a good wife, but he, in your eyes, did nothing to become a good husband."
"He was a good husband," I said defensively and then added on a sigh, "for the most part."
"No one is entirely good or bad, Rose. This is about meeting your needs. Since the kids left, your needs changed, and so did his. You're still meeting his needs, but he's not meeting yours, and he's not going to know that until you tell him."
"Well, it's too late now, isn't it? I already left."
"It's never too late to tell people you care about how they affect you. Regardless of what happens to your marriage, you and Gray owe each other an honest come-to-God, conversation."