Chapter 30 Jason
My head was still swimming from my confession as Joe and I got on the road.
We were both aching to be alone together.
To…to express the enormity of what we’d just decided physically.
My skin was buzzing, my heart ten sizes too big for my chest as we drove past his orchard, past the other farm houses, and into town.
I couldn’t wait to get home.
To hold him the way we both needed.
Joe was practically vibrating in his seat beside me.
Excited.
And he wasn’t even drunk.
He wasn’t talking, so much as he was buzzing. Staring out the windows, then at me, then out the windows again. He reminded me of a dog. I almost wanted to offer to roll the window down for him so he could stick his head out.
But…I wasn’t in the mood to tease right now.
So instead, I brought his hand to my lips and kissed the back of it.
Joe looked at me again, his smile soft.
He really did look at ease.
And now that I knew I was the cause of that, I just…god. Again, my heart was too fucking big right now. I was pretty sure I was going to explode if he kept looking at me like that.
His eyes said, I’m glad you see me.
They said, you’re not alone anymore.
They said, I’m not scared of this.
The funny thing? I wasn’t either.
Not anymore.
I was so distracted by Joe, it took me an embarrassing amount of time to realize something was amiss. Namely, the sheer amount of cars parked on the road leading to my house. At first, I just assumed it was people gathering for Christmas. But…even then, that was a stretch.
I saw people crossing the street, and I slowed down to let them pass, perplexed.
Joe continued to vibrate.
“Was that Patrick?” I muttered, confused. “He doesn’t live even close to here—” We’d passed his house on our way here. “Leanne?” I frowned. “What the…”
We kept driving.
When we rounded the corner and my house came into view, I nearly choked.
Dozens—and I mean dozens—of people were on the road. My baffled gaze followed the line of Bellevillians, like ants, with arms full of Tupperware. All of them…all of them seemed to be heading to the same destination.
My house.
What the hell?
My front yard was completely full. I swear to god, it looked like the entire population of Belleville was packed into my cul-de-sac. My heart was pounding as I gawped, open-mouthed, parked mid-road because I didn’t know what to do—where to go.
“What the—”
Joe leapt out of the car without a word.
“You—” Apparently he was tired of waiting for me to find a proper parking place. Hell. Whatever. I put the car in park, yanking my keys out of the ignition. My door was pulled open a moment later, and there Joe was, cheeks flushed, eyes bright.
“Did you do this?” I asked him, sliding out of the vehicle and staring up at him perplexed. “Did you…”
“C’mon,” he urged, fingers lacing with mine as he tugged me toward the crowd.
I yanked him to a stop, and he paused, those dark eyes on mine, a smile on his lips.
“Joe,” I could hardly get a breath in. “What is this?”
“You’ve spent enough Christmases without family,” Joe stated, using his words to emotionally eviscerate me in only the way he could. “I wasn’t going to let it happen again.”
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.
I didn't know what to do. Didn’t know how to exist in a world where someone as good, as kind, as wonderful as Joe Milton loved me.
He’d told me he was good with secrets, and that had never been more apparent than it was now, staring at what had to be the most beautiful Christmas gift I’d ever received.
The truth was, I didn’t know if I deserved it. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever know. If it’d ever simply click.
But something told me it might.
That all I had to do was try, really try.
I could deserve this the same way I could choose to accept happiness.
I didn’t have to bend over backwards to be loved.
Could exist in Joe’s orbit. Could let him change me, because he already had.
With every wall he eradicated so that he could be a part of my life he had shown me the way to this moment.
Shown me the way he’d promised he would.
That I was lovable.
That I was loved.
He let me see this gift for what it was.
These people, who had been my family, for who they were.
All my life, I’d been searching for this. The moment I understood I mattered. That I was worthy of the kind of love I’d seen others receive, no-strings-attached. That people would show up for me the way I showed up for them.
That I didn’t have to be useful to be loved.
I’d desperately tried to prove to everyone around me that my love wasn’t performative. That I wasn’t like my parents. That I didn’t do what I did, because I wanted accolades.
I thought I’d been unpicking their knots, learning them, figuring out where I fit.
As I stood there, staring at the friendly faces that awaited me, Joe’s warmth at my side, the truth finally settled into place. They were the ones that had been unpicking me. And I was the biggest tangle of all.
With my knots undone, my yarn unraveled, suddenly, I knew.
I’d never had to prove myself to be worthy of Belleville’s love.
Because some loves were unconditional.
All along, my fears had been unfounded.
Mary was at the front of the mass of people.
Marybeth stood between her and Daniel, a big smile on her face.
She was wearing a dress that resembled a Christmas tree, and Poncho was in her arms, ugly-beautiful as ever.
Beside them, Madison was standing, a grouchy expression on her face.
She hated crowds. I knew that. So it meant even more that she was here.
That she’d heeded Joe’s plea.
That she’d wanted to show me that I mattered.
Madison’s mother was behind her, chatting away, though it didn’t appear that Madison was listening. She was too absorbed in her phone. Like usual.
The closer we came, the more people I recognized.
Marty B. And his wife and kids. Sadie Collins and her army of sons.
Baxter Baker, his grouchy mountain of a husband, Paxton.
Both their kids. Miles and Trent were there too, as was Ben and his partner, Robin—and their kids.
Mrs. Montgomery. Matilda Deed. Every single person I’d talked to at the Thanksgiving food drive this year.
And more.
Practically the whole town was there, standing on my lawn.
Someone had thrown up a buffet table on my porch and it was entirely covered in snacks.
Beneath it, piles and piles of presents glinted, red and green and white.
So many different kinds of wrapping paper it looked like Christmas confetti. Beside the presents was a basket.
A massive basket.
Full of letters.
Hundreds of them.
“What—”
Joe tugged me toward Mary’s family. The moment we were within hugging distance, Daniel yanked me in. He smushed me, and Mary crowded in beside him, patting my back. All while Joe watched.
“He’s a good egg,” she whispered in my ear.
“He’s—”
“And so are you.” She kissed my cheek, pushing me back a little so she could see my face. “Your presents from us are in the pile.”
“It’s a huge pile,” Marybeth said, obviously jealous.
“Is it…”
“For you?” Joe’s voice said from behind me. “Yeah, Jason. It is.”
“All of it?”
“All of it,” he confirmed.
“Miss Marybeth,” I turned to her. She saluted. “I have an important mission for you.”
Marybeth grinned.
I lost count of how many hugs I’d received by the end of the day. Hundreds probably, more hugs than letters. It was a whirlwind of love I never could’ve anticipated. Every person I’d met, every person I’d befriended over my twenty years in Belleville, all having shown up because Joe had asked.
Joe.
Who hated talking to people.
Who I’d had to coach through the necessities of marketing. Joe, who would’ve gladly lived the rest of his life alone in his little farmhouse with only woodland creatures for company. Joe, who got shy and awkward and—he’d…
He’d done this.
Talked to dozens and dozens of people he didn’t know.
Because he’d wanted to show me.
Show me what I meant, not just to him, but to the family I’d chosen. Because he’d wanted to give me the Christmas he said I’d always deserved. Which…wasn’t that just…swoony as hell? Jesus Christ.
By the time everyone left, the sun had well and truly gone down.
The Miltons plus Jameses had shown up at some point, partaking in the festivities.
And that had been…interesting. Not because they weren’t welcome, but because I’d caught something—a whispered conversation that made things come crashing down, only to rebuild all over again.
“We’re just glad we can cheer him up,” Beatrice Montgomery said to Mama Milton. I was behind them. They hadn’t seen me. Still teary-eyed and embarrassed by the way that I’d freaked out over the thank-you letters I’d just had the blessing of opening.
I paused.
This weird feeling in my chest that I needed to hear what came next.
“Cheer him up?” Mrs. Milton said, confused. “Why would he need cheering up?”
“He’s always sad after he goes to that fancy party,” Beatrice said. “Visits his mom. Sees all the other fancy-pants-rich people, then comes back to us a husk of himself for a week or two.”
“I’m not sure I follow. Other rich people?”
“Oh. You didn’t know? I just assumed, given your son is his life-partner.” Beatrice laughed. “Jason’s net worth is in the millions.”
My ears were ringing as I stared at the two of them.
“Ah.” Mrs. Milton nodded. And then. “Who made the yam casserole? It’s delightful, and I need the recipe.” I suppose it made sense she didn’t bat an eye. Her son-in-law was Alex James, after all. And his family was as prominent—maybe more prominent—than mine.
Still though.