Chapter 29 James
James
Over the past week, I’ve been thinking a lot about the advice the guys gave me. Actions and words.
So, I’ve been showing up in small but impactful ways. Doing what I can to show Georgie that I’m here for her. And hoping like hell that with each kindness I show her, she’ll remove one brick from the emotional walls she has built around her heart.
I’ve been getting up with her and Weston in the night, resurrecting our middle-of-the-night poker games—not because she needs me, but because I want her to know she’s not alone.
Every other day, I leave fresh bouquets of wildflowers in the nursery.
I take Weston from her whenever I can so she can put her feet up and actually relax.
When she has waitressing shifts, I send her photos of Weston, so she knows he’s happy and well cared for.
I’ve taken over meals on those days, too.
It mostly means ordering a lot of takeout, but at least Georgie isn’t coming home from a long shift only to stand over a stove.
I hired a housekeeper to come twice a week, so she doesn’t feel like she has to keep the house spotless on top of everything else.
I’ve also been creeping into her personal space.
Since getting her off without any reciprocation didn’t move us forward, I’ve been focused on non-sexual touches.
Dropping kisses on her forehead. Cupping her cheek with my hand.
Giving her hugs. Sitting next to her when we watch TV.
Putting my arm around her shoulders and holding her hand.
And I’ve been complimenting her, saying sweet things to her. While I haven’t told her that I’m in love with her—I’m psyching myself up to do just that when the right opportunity presents itself—I have told her that I want to be with her.
In the meantime, today is the day we’re finishing the nursery, and I’m hoping it will show Georgie that my intentions about our future as a family are real.
Saturdays are the busiest days at Deb’s Diner, and the day of the week when Georgie works her longest shift. As soon as she leaves for work, I text the group chat that it’s safe to come over.
Annabelle arrives first with Hayes and her two daughters, Grace and Claire. Prior to meeting Hayes two years ago, Annabelle had been married, and Grace and Claire are from that relationship.
“We brought doughnuts!” shrieks Claire as she spills out of Hayes’ truck. That little girl is as sweet as the doughnuts in her hand.
Grace jumps out from behind her younger sister. As sweet as Claire is, Grace is just as ornery. She’s also hilarious and not in the least bit intimidated by any of us. She’s a spunky little firecracker.
Hayes extends his arms to me, reaching for Weston. “Annabelle said the girls and I are on baby duty while y’all work.”
Annabelle laughs, “I’ve started calling him Handy Hayes because he’s so not handy. We’ve already had to call in specialists to fix the couple of projects Hayes tried to complete at the new house.”
“Yeah, he started a fire when he tried to change a light fixture,” Grace adds with a wicked grin. “Two firetrucks came to the house! And all our neighbors came over to check if we were okay.”
“I told you not to tell people that,” Hayes hisses, gritting his teeth.
“And I told you my silence had a price, which you didn’t pay, so…” Grace trails off with a shrug. “As Mom always says, actions have consequences.”
I smirk, enjoying the hell out of watching their exchange. “Handy Hayes, I like it.”
“Better than Bambi,” he mutters as he walks into the house.
As much as Hayes loves giving other people nicknames, he wasn’t amused when Rowdy started calling him Bambi after he accused Hayes of looking like a deer in headlights when Hayes accidentally cheated on his girlfriend. But that’s a long story for another day.
Within minutes, Josh pulls up with Rowdy, Bailey, and baby Ava following him up the driveway. The only member of our Outlaw crew who isn’t coming is Char because she’s out-of-town visiting her little sister… who is also the girlfriend Hayes cheated on. Like I said, it’s a long story.
Once inside the house, we divvy up the projects.
Hayes, Claire, and Grace take Ava and Weston into the living room while Annabelle and Bailey start opening boxes, organizing items, and assembling the new bookshelf.
Leaving Josh, Rowdy, and me to start nailing the molding to the walls in the design the women planned for the room.
While Georgie has been at work this week, I’ve painted, measured, and cut all the wood for the molding during Weston’s naps.
To keep her from being suspicious, I told her there was a small leak in the attic above the nursery, so we needed to have Weston sleep in his bassinet in my room for a few days while I let the ceiling dry out and replaced the wet drywall.
It was also a convenient excuse to get Georgie back into my bed.
Nothing more has happened since I kissed her in the backyard, but I still like falling asleep with her in my arms.
Once the nursery was labeled as off-limits, I moved the old furniture out and painted the walls and the ceiling because that’s what it means to color drench a room, I’ve learned. Luckily, with the low VOC paint, fans, and open windows, Georgie hasn’t been able to smell the paint.
As Rowdy and I line up the trim pieces and nail them into place, Josh works behind us, caulking the wall moldings. Then we roll out the tarps and paint the room with one final coat of paint.
While that dries, we pop out of the nursery to check on everyone else. Annabelle and Bailey have a bunch of decor arranged on the floor as they discuss the placement of each item.
“Hey, can we get into the nursery yet?” Bailey asks. “We need to start hanging the wallpaper in the closet.”
“Y’all are hanging wallpaper in a closet?” Rowdy doesn’t hide the incredulity in his voice and receives an elbow to the gut from his wife for his tone.
She grabs a roll of navy blue, green, and brown plaid wallpaper and waves it in Rowdy’s face. “We sure are. You have a problem with that?”
Wise man that he is, Rowdy just says, “Nope.” But when Bailey turns her back, he rolls his eyes, muttering, “Wallpapering a fucking closet?”
“That’ll be five dollars, Uncle Rowdy,” chirps Grace.
“Put it on my tab, kiddo.”
“That’s what you say every time. I think your tab is up to twenty-five bucks.” Grace perches her hands on her hips. “It’s time to pay up.”
Josh laughs. “Should’ve just paid upfront when Grace was running her unlimited swear word special.”
“That was just for one weekend, Uncle Josh.”
Annabelle’s oldest daughter is obsessed with the swear jar. More specifically, she’s obsessed with fleecing us, and once she found out we all had money, the penalty for swearing went up, way up. Now it’s turned into a long-running joke between us.
“One day, you’ll be funding your college education from your swear jar proceeds,” Hayes chuckles, ruffling Grace’s brown hair.
Josh leans in and whispers in my ear, “That or the retainer for a good defense attorney.”
Annabelle swats him on the arm. “I heard that!”
But she can’t get too mad, because Annabelle knows better than anyone what a little troublemaker Grace is.
She’s too clever for her own good, and sometimes that intelligence leads her astray.
Like last year, when we were on a publicity tour, she asked us to buy and sign postcards from the different states we visited for her class’s geography project on the fifty states—only to skip the project entirely and sell the Outlaw-autographed postcards to her classmates instead.
Personally, I applaud her ingenuity, but it’s not my phone that’s ringing when she gets called into the principal’s office.
I walk over to where Weston is lying on his playmat, his little arms and legs moving around as he squawks happily. Scooping him up, I kiss his chubby cheek, breathing in his delicious baby smell.
“Never thought I’d see the day, brother,” Josh murmurs, patting me on the back.
“Me neither, but now I can’t imagine my life any differently.”
After playing with Weston for a few more minutes, I give him one more kiss before I return to the nursery when I hear Josh calling Hayes’ name.
When Hayes and I amble into the nursery, Josh is on a ladder in the middle of the room removing the old light fixture. Rowdy stands next to him holding the new light.
“Thought you might want to watch and learn how it’s done, Bambi,” Josh jokes as he unscrews the light and disconnects the wiring.
Hayes chuckles, muttering over his shoulder, “Shut the fuck up, Dumb.”
Testing the paint, my fingers come up dry. Satisfied, I drag a stepstool over to the first of the two large windows. After mounting the woven Roman shades, I holler at the women, “How high do you want me to hang these curtains?”
Honestly, my real question is why we need both shades and curtains, but after watching Bailey elbow Rowdy for questioning the wallpaper, I figure it’s safer to keep my mouth shut.
Annabelle pokes her head out of the closet. “About eight inches from the ceiling.”
“That high? But the windows—”
From inside the closet, Bailey yells, “Just do what she says, Dumber.”
Yep, should have kept my mouth shut.
Once the curtains are hung, Josh, Rowdy, and I begin arranging the furniture where Annabelle and Bailey tell us to put it.
Then we hang everything on the walls and begin putting all the books onto the new bookshelf and arranging the toys and décor in the room.
Last but not least, we roll out the new rug that covers most of the hardwood floors and will give Weston a soft place to play when he starts moving.
As we’re cleaning up the trash, I check my phone to see if Georgie has texted.
She hasn’t. But it’s around the time when I’d expect her back, so I round everyone up, bestowing thanks and gratitude while also telling them to get the fuck out.
While they deserve to see Georgie’s reaction because of all the hard work they put in to make this nursery happen, I want it to be a private moment between Georgie and me.
Not more than twenty minutes after I pushed everyone out the door, Georgie pulls into the garage. Weston and I meet her in the living room.
“How was your shift today?”
“Good. Deb’s was packed for a change, so that was nice. Tips were good, too,” she remarks, pulling off her tennis shoes, rubbing at her tired feet. “Made over a hundred bucks. How was Weston?”
“Great. Took two bottles, played, and had a monster nap, but I bet he’s ready to eat again.”
“Let me wash up and then I’ll feed him.”
I follow her as she washes her hands in the kitchen sink. As soon as she dries her hands, she takes the baby from me, showering him in kisses as he chews on his fist and coos, smiling at his mama.
“The nursery is ready to go now. While Weston napped, I finished repairing the drywall, and moved everything back in.”
“Oh, okay,” Georgie says as she walks toward the nursery. I trail her as my anticipation builds.
When her hand closes over the doorknob and pushes the door open, I watch her face. There’s a moment of shock as she takes in the newly decorated space. Her expression softens, her eyes flare, and her jaw slackens.
She turns to me, genuine appreciation and happiness flickering across her features. She whispers, “James, you did… all this for Weston?”
“For Weston and for you, Georgie,” I nod, stepping forward. I want her to know that her place in my life isn’t temporary. With me, she’s found a home.
I want to remember those few seconds where Georgie looked at me with trust and adoration because that was all I got before I watched her walls slam back into place.