Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Hey, Dad,” I heard Colson call out.
I looked up from Juni’s fingers maneuvering the plastic pen that came with my diamond art kit to the boys who were on their knees next to Jase’s living room table playing cards. Colson’s attention was to the front door. Which I couldn’t see from where I was sitting.
Obviously, that meant I couldn’t see Jase. Which was a bummer because I kind of wanted to see him walk through the door. It was silly, remnants of a girlish fantasy where I’d be home waiting for Jase to walk in the door to our home in his police uniform.
Jase came into view and I got part of the fantasy—there was no uniform, he was in dark-gray trousers, blue shirt that did amazing things to his coloring, suit jacket folded over his arm, holstered service weapon on his right hip.
He wasn’t walking into our home but his.
But the smile he was aiming at the boys made up for the lack of uniform.
And in that moment, seeing that smile, feeling excited, anxious, happy, I could almost trick myself into believing this was my life and not just me watching his kids for him because his babysitter couldn’t do it.
And right then I could be excited and happy to see Jase and not anxious and nervous because he had great kids.
I wasn’t worried about picking up Juni. But I was a little uneasy about what Colson would think.
But he didn’t seem to have a problem with me picking him up instead of Kayla.
And when we got back to the house, he unlocked the door and showed me how to disable the alarm, then he took off with Lucas.
To stop Juni from feeling left out, I showed her my diamond art kit and asked her to help me after homework.
I let the kids settle in and show Lucas around their rooms upstairs. As desperately as I wanted to go up and see, I stayed downstairs. I hadn’t been invited up and Jase wasn’t home. But there was a lot to see downstairs.
His kitchen was a dream, big and open, new appliances, black granite, walnut cabinets, sparkling clean.
There was a breakfast nook with a four-top round table but there was a break in the middle, so a leaf could be put in.
Obviously, he’d purchased it new and not from a yard sale like I had bought mine because there were no blemishes.
The living room was huge. A big TV hung over the fireplace, built-in shelving units on either side.
A brown leather couch, one of those curved sectionals that didn’t have a hard angle and would sit six people comfortably.
The area rug was masculine in colors—brown, beige, muted blue, but had thick pile.
A formal dining room with wainscot paneling on the bottom of the walls. A table that sat eight took up most of the space. It would be the perfect Thanksgiving or Christmas table if he hosted holiday dinners.
There was a longish hallway with another thick, masculine runner covering the dark hardwood flooring that went throughout the whole lower level and the stair treads.
Off the hall was a full bath, laundry room, and study.
I only poked my head in the study because it was obviously Jase’s office.
There was a desk which was the only surface in the whole house that I’d seen that was cluttered.
There was also a brown leather club chair in the corner that looked like it belonged with the couch.
However, I thought he made the right decision not putting it in the living room.
And finally at the end of the hall there was a door that led to the garage.
However, Jase didn’t park in there. It was full of workout equipment.
There was also a tool bench with a big blue metal toolbox next to it.
On the other side opposite the tool bench was another built-in table.
This was obviously Colson’s space. There were skateboards—boards with no wheels attached and loose wheels on the bench.
Next to that was a big shelving unit that had skateboard gear neatly arranged.
I loved that Jase gave Coleson his own space to work on his boards, something the kid was passionate about. But it wasn’t just Colson’s. He could be out there working while spending time with his dad, if Jase was working out.
Actually, I loved his house, full-stop. Great neighborhood. Beautiful brick exterior, well-maintained yard. I also loved that Jase was capable of giving his kids a home. Not a place to crash, a place to live. It was decidedly masculine, but it was a beautiful home.
“There!” Juni’s excited declaration pulled me out of my thoughts and my attention back to her. “You just needed more wax on your tip.”
Another thing to note, I was totally rethinking my soirée into the diamond art making craze. This stuff was hard.
Wax, drills, tiny symbols printed on the canvas.
Juni didn’t seem to have a problem seeing these dots, triangles, and other shapes and colors. However, my old thirty-five-year-old eyes were going to need a magnifying glass to read them.
“Yes. More wax,” I muttered.
“What are you playing?” Jase asked the boys.
“Cribbage. Lucas is teaching me.”
I felt Jase’s eyes on me—warm and full of nostalgia. So warm, my skin heated and started to prickle.
It wasn’t until right then that I allowed myself to remember how good it felt to have Jase look at me from across a room.
How back in the day we’d be at a party—him talking to his football buds, me across the room with my friends, and I’d feel it—Jase watching me.
And when I’d look over at him his eyes would be warm and full of love.
In those moments, I knew I was the luckiest girl in the world. I knew it.
Then I’d ruined it with my overthinking and youthful stupidity.
I’d convinced myself that physical distance meant emotional disconnect, and maybe I’d even started to doubt if he still loved me.
Then because he wasn’t around and I no longer had those warm, full-of-love looks from across the room securing me to him, I’d slid back into my insecurity and was too scared to ask him.
Jason Turner was popular. He was a football player.
He was the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen and I wasn’t the only girl at our high school to think that.
Girls hit on him and flirted with him all the time even though they knew he had a girlfriend.
He could’ve dumped me and had any girl he wanted.
Then there was me.
Plain and shy. I wasn’t athletic. I wasn’t a cheerleader.
I had a lot of friends but I didn’t sit at the popular girl table during lunch and the parties we’d been invited to were because of him, not me.
Everyone wanted to be around Jase. I was just his tagalong.
Not that Jase ever made me feel that way, but other people did.
So damn stupid.
Not to mention embarrassingly needy. And selfish. He’d proven time and time again he loved me and I’d still doubted it. I’d fallen apart at the first obstacle which wasn’t even really an obstacle, it was a minor blip.
Yes, stupid.
I glanced up at Jase in time to see and hear him tell Colson, “Warning, bud, Cribbage is Rainy’s favorite card game. In all the years we played I never beat her. If she taught Lucas, he’s gonna wipe the floor with you.”
“He already has,” Colson mumbled but he didn’t sound upset, just determined.
And yes, I’d taught Lucas. And yes again, he was good.
But no, not as good as I was. And I was not one of those parents who let my kid win to assuage his ego.
I played how I would always play and taught my kid if he wanted to win, he needed to learn how to beat the competition.
The side benefit to that was I taught my kid how to lose.
So, when he did win, he knew the victory was hard won.
I had learned the hard way self-worth wasn’t tied to winning, or beating others—it was about trying hard.
It was knowing you tried your best and if your best was good enough, you learned something about yourself.
Not everyone was a winner.
Someone always had to come in second place.
And if your self-worth was tangled up with wins and losses instead of effort and purpose you were in for a lifetime of feeling less-than.
I didn’t want that for my son.
So, I let him lose.
“Hey Daddy!” Juni shouted from next to me. “I’m teaching Rainy how to diamond paint.”
Facts! A ten-year-old was indeed schooling me.
I watched Jase move through his living room, into the kitchen, and finally I watched him toss his jacket over the back of an empty chair before he made his way to his daughter and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
That was sweet.
“Hey, sweetheart, how was school?”
That was sweeter—him calling her sweetheart.
“It was good. I finished my letter to Miss Monroe’s mom and dad.”
At the mention of Juni writing her letter, Jase tensed. We hadn’t talked about the assembly, and I hadn’t asked if he, Juni, or Colson knew Miss Monroe. So I wasn’t sure what to make of his shoulders getting stiff.
“Yeah?” Jase prompted.
“At the end of the day Principal Halstead told us that he had nine-hundred letters to give Mr. and Mrs. Monroe. That’s a lot. It’s gonna take them a long time to read them all.” Juni lowered her voice when she added. “I hope the letters make them feel better.”
Jase dropped another kiss on his daughter’s head and told her the truth.
“I don’t know if the letters will make them feel better, sweetheart.
What I do know is those letters show them how loved their daughter was and that will make them feel good.
Those letters are also going to be a good reminder that there are nine-hundred kind and generous souls in the world and right now they need that reminder. ”
I liked that he gave her honesty instead of brushing aside reality. But he did it in a gentle way while giving his daughter the truth.
Those letters would not take away the Monroes’ pain. Nothing would. Not even time. That hole would always be there. It would shrink. The pain would dull. But an ache would always be there in the background—a testament to the love they had for their daughter.
And finally, Jase gave me his full attention. He was already standing close, but Juni was between us. He skirted around the back of her chair and pressed a kiss to my temple and queried softly, “How was your day, baby?”
“Good,” I answered back just as softly.
When he straightened, he asked, “Any problems picking up the kids?”
“No. Are you hungry? I had the kids wait to eat.”
His head tilted, just a tad, but I noticed it. He also smiled. Not a full out smile, but a sweet grin that was full of gratitude.
“Thought I smelled something good when I walked in.” Then he called out. “Boys, find a place to pause your game. Dinner.”
Boys.
Oh crap.
I didn’t want him to think I was inviting myself and Lucas to stay for dinner.
“We don’t have to—”
“Awesome. I’m starving,” Colson yelled back, interrupting me.
“Jase, I didn’t—”
“Yay! Taco time!” Juni declared, foiling another attempt to tell Jase we didn’t have to stay.
And it only got worse from there.
“Cole, show Lucas where the placemats are, we’re eating at the big table.”
“Got it, Dad.”
“Juni, sweetheart. You wanna start grabbing the fixings out of the fridge?”
“Sure will. We even graded the cheese.”
“Grated. With a T,” I corrected out of habit.
“Grated,” she repeated and popped up.
“I’m gonna go up and change. Be back to help.”
I guess we were staying for dinner.