Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
JACE
When someone comes along and makes you feel butterflies, you need to chase them.
Vi Keeland, Happily Letter After
S am and I worked the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. Not a bee in sight, we all ate a late supper together on the back patio, Max included. I saw Sam off when Polly took the kids up for bedtime.
The sun had set by the time I finished showering that night. Walking through the darkened house, I grabbed a beer from the fridge as I craned my ears, listening for any noise upstairs. It was way past the kids’ bedtime, and I was sure Ryla crashed hard. I wanted to go up and check on Max, but if he and Polly were together, I didn’t want to intrude.
Taking a long pull, I looked outside, straightening as I took in a familiar dark figure sitting outside on the patio steps. At the sound of the door, Polly jerked her head toward me. My heart sunk as moonlight illuminated the reflection of tears on her cheeks. I strode over, sitting next to her on the step. She’d turned her head, hiding her eyes from me. Her shoulders shook with quiet, muffled sobs and she sniffled, refusing to look at me as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. Slowly, I reached out with two fingers, placing them under her chin and gently turned her face to me. Her swollen eyes and tracks of her tears were a one-two punch to my chest. I brushed my thumbs under her eyes, brushing her tears away, not having any other thoughts than wanting to take this sadness away from her.
“What is it, darlin’?”
“Nothing. Just thinking about something someone said?—”
In that instant, I was resolved, clarity giving my mind a peace I hadn’t felt in days. Because it was simple: Polly should never be sad. She should always be happy. And whoever said something to make Polly sad, was a dead man.
It’s a good thing I had shovels, topsoil, and a willing best friend.
I dropped my hands to my knees. “Tell me who made you cry. I know the maze of roads by Bandit Lake like the back of my hand after driving for Lyft all these years, so I know all the best places to hide a body.”
Polly’s sniffles instantly quieted. She cocked her head to the side, her eyes less hazy than a few moments ago.
“What?” Her voice was still thick with tears. “It’s not like that. And while I’m . . . flattered?” She squinted one eye. “Maybe that’s not the right word, but no one did this to me except myself. I’ll be fine. You don’t have to stay.” She turned to look into the distance.
When I didn’t move for a good minute, she turned back to me with furrowed eyebrows.
I crossed my arms. “I’m staying here. What’s goin’ on?”
She huffed. “You’re a little bossier than I thought you’d be.”
Not rising to the bait, I waited. And waited some more. Finally, she sighed and looked down, speaking hesitantly as she kept her eyes trained on the steps in front of her.
“Max asked me about that family picture. You know, the painting you moved from the library?”
“I can put it back. If I’d known how much that cree— ative picture meant to you, I’d never have moved it.”
“It is creepy. That’s not what I meant.” Polly patted my knee, letting her hand rest there as she gave the night sky a searching look. The first stars were probably starting to make an appearance, but I wouldn’t know. All of my focus rested with her hand on my knee.
“Max hadn’t asked me about it before. And then tonight he asked—” Her voice broke and I instinctively put my hand over hers, stroking the soft skin there with my thumb.
“He asked why I never talk about my mom. My first thought was that I must talk about her sometimes. But looking back, I don’t. I don’t talk about her. Ever. I don’t even know if the kids know her name. And she had a lovely name. It was Gloria. Don’t you think that’s lovely?”
I nodded, feeling helpless as I watched a tear escape down her cheek.
“She was the best mom,” Polly continued, wiping her tear away. “She was funny. She’d played with me and tickled me until I couldn’t breathe. She filled this house with music and fun and joy.” Moonlight reflected in her eyes, making them light up as she talked about her momma.
“She’d play hide ‘n’ seek and loved to cook. She tempered my father. He wasn’t always this horrible person. At least, I don’t think so.”
She sucked in a shuddering breath. I could feel the tremble of her body next to mine.
“And then she died . . .” her voice trailed off and she whispered the next part. “And I didn’t realize a part of me died with her.”
Polly shuddered again, and I couldn’t not put my arm around her any longer.
“I kept thinking about how disappointed she must be that I didn’t keep her memory alive. I was so used to putting little pieces of her away, tied up and forgotten somewhere deep inside myself, that I’d stopped thinking about her. It was easier than being sad all the time. But I didn’t realize how keeping it all inside was weighing me down. Since I’ve been back here, all the puzzle pieces of my memory have been set loose, bringing her back to me in bits and pieces. Then tonight, as I sat out here, another little piece of her came back.”
A sad smile curved her mouth, making me pull her tighter to my side.
“She told me right over there,” Polly pointed to the edge of the yard, “that I didn’t have to be perfect. That mistakes can make you feel the most alive. And I forgot all about it. I’ve hidden so many pieces of myself away to forget her, that I’m afraid I won’t know how to put them together again so I can find who I’m supposed to be. And then I feel guilty, because how can I be a good mom, if I can’t even do that? How can I teach my kids to be strong and unafraid to be themselves, if I can’t do the same thing?”
“Are you actually saying you don’t think you’re a good mom?”
She scoffed. “I’m a mother, that’s about it.”
“You’re jokin’, right?” She rolled her eyes at my response. I removed my arm from around her, taking a hold of her shoulders, turning her to fully face me. “Polly.” My voice was soft, yet serious. “You’re an amazing mom.”
She shook herself free from my grasp. “I’m not looking for fake praise.”
“It’s not fake praise. Your kids love you. You’ve sacrificed everything for them. You’re trying to be a mother and a father to them, thanks to your asshole ex, and now you’re back home in a place that has painful memories for you so that you can put them in a good school, in a stable home, with good people around you. They feel loved. Can you explain to me how this makes you a bad mom?”
Polly was shaking her head before I finished talking. “I don’t listen to them. I don’t let them have fun. Max didn’t tell me about his bee phobia and worse, I didn’t even notice.”
“Do you know how much I kept from my momma growing up? This won’t be the first time your kids keep the truth from you.”
Polly tipped her head back, giving a little groan. “I know. But they need someone who’s fun. I never do anything fun. I had so much fun with my mom. I’m not making those memories with my kids. How can I if I’m not even a fun person? Someone who’s unafraid to make mistakes? They don’t need a mom who’s essentially turned herself into this perfectionist robot. My name might as well be Barry.”
I chuckled at that and shifted, sitting shoulder to shoulder with her, an idea taking shape like the black silhouettes of the mountains drawn against the starry sky.
“You should make a list.”
I could almost feel Polly side-eyeing me. “I think a list is going backward.”
“Hear me out. It could be a fun list. The list can only have fun things you want to do or like to do. Or better yet, have never done. But they can only be fun, that’s the rule. No sneaking ‘doing the dishes’ on the list.”
“What if I find doing dishes to be fun?”
“Then I guess I’ll start calling you Barry.”
Polly blew out a shaky laugh at my joke. “I don’t even know what to put on the list. Giselle did all the fun stuff with them. I don’t even swim with my kids. I sit on the side of the pool watching them. What kind of mother doesn’t get in the pool?”
“They’re six and ten. I think there’s some time left.”
Poly sighed. “I guess I could put going swimming with my kids on the list.”
“There you go. You’re off to a great start. Now how about something just for you? What about the get together your friend, Leah, asked you to go to tomorrow? I already told you I can watch the kids, that’s no problem.”
Polly sighed, then practically grumbled, “Fine. I guess I could go meet Leah’s friends with her tomorrow.”
“See? Progress already.” I smiled, easing myself back on my hands as Polly turned and asked, “What would you put on the list?”
I tilted my head back and forth, weighing the options. “You could go with the classics, like a hike and a picnic, or planning a vacation.” I saw a flash from deep back in the yard, giving me an idea. “Or you can start small. Wait right here.”
Hurrying inside, I went to the pantry, finding two empty mason type jars with lids. After pounding some quick air holes in the lids with a screwdriver and hammer from the garage that I’d used this afternoon, I pocketed a small flashlight and went to grab Polly. A few minutes later, we were walking toward the back of the yard, a jar in each of our hands.
“Where are we going?” Polly asked, a little breathless as I led her quickly past a set of trees.
“You’ll see.” I grabbed my flashlight and aimed it low at the ground. I put my jar under my arm and slowed a step, placing my hand on the small of her back to lead her to our destination: an old shed at the back of the property.
Once we got there, Polly burst out laughing.
“Oh my God. It looks like a black-market flower sale.”
Behind the shed were all of the flowers, planters, and hanging plants that Sam and I had removed from her yard this afternoon.
Switching the flashlight off, I placed it on the ground and grabbed a small handful of grass. “Alright, now. Take the lid off one of those jars,” I instructed.
“Now what do we do?” Polly asked after I stuffed a bit of grass into her jar.
“We wait.”
I could hear her breathing beside me as my eyes slowly adjusted to the dark.
“All I hear are mosquitos,” Polly whispered, swatting the air.
“Patience.”
I could practically hear her roll her eyes, just like her daughter. And then, I saw it. A flash in the dark.
“There! Did you see it?” I pointed in front of us.
“Where?”
“Over by that tree, to our right,” I whispered.
“Jace, it’s dark and there are about ten different trees to our right.”
Putting my jar on the ground, I stepped back and came up behind her, my left hand lightly holding her waist. I breathed in the sweet smell of her neck as I moved closer to her, feeling her stiffen.
“Is this ok?” I asked, my breath stirring the small hairs that escaped her bun, tickling my nose.
“It’s fine,” she rasped, then shivered.
“Are you cold?”
“Me? No! I’m fine!” she said loudly.
I chuckled, stirring up her hair again. “Shh. You don’t want to scare them away.”
“I don’t even know what we’re looking for!” She whisper hissed back.
“There it was again.” I reached down with my right hand, grasping her hand in mine and bringing them up to point at the tree in front of us. “Right there.”
Polly was quiet as I saw another flash and she jumped. “Jace! I saw it! Are those . . . fireflies?”
“I grew up calling them lightning bugs. But yes, that’s what they are. And yes, we’re gonna catch ’em.”
“I’ve never done that before.” Her tone went from wistful to playful in a moment. “But there’s a saying in medicine. See one, do one, teach one. You do it first and then I’ll go.”
Laughing, I shook my head and dropped her hand. “You’ll be fine. This isn’t brain surgery. Take the lid off your jar. Yep, like that. Now, when you see the flash, walk toward it slowly. Then when it’s in front of you, scoop it from the air, like you’re catching a fish with a net, then slap the lid on top of your jar.”
I felt her nodding as I talked. “Ok. Ok, I can do that.” She rolled her shoulders back and moved to take a step forward, then balked. Her head turned back to me, the faint moonlight turning her skin opalescent. Her lips were within a few inches of my own.
“I can’t see where I’m going. I feel like I’m going to fall.”
I moved my hands to her waist to steady her, the warmth from her body, the swell of her hips beneath my hands causing a stirring within my chest. My lips were just below her ear. More whisps of her hair tickled my face, but I didn’t dare move as I spoke softly, “Go ahead and walk, darlin’. I’ll go where you lead.”
Another shiver went through her body before Polly took a step forward, then another. I followed behind her, lightly guiding her steps, making it so she didn’t fall. She was quickly getting a hang of it, waiting for a flash, then walking, then waiting and walking again, until finally?—
“Jace! I got one! I got it!” She turned around and held the jar between us, securing the lid to the top of the jar. We peered inside and then— flash! The lightning bug lit up the inside.
Polly’s smile stretched wide on her face, her joy evident, the mere fact that I’d made her happy, lighting me up on the inside.
“Can we name him Ed?”
I wouldn’t be surprised if my answering laughter could be heard miles away.
* * *
Ed and Thomas, the two lightning bugs we caught, were living happily in their jars on the back patio. I’d had a shower earlier that night, but when I got back to the room, I needed another one.
Hot water pounded on my back. I could still feel the curves of Polly’s body under my hands. My dick had finally calmed down, but at the first thought of Polly, Jace Junior sprang back to life. Which wasn’t too hard to believe. Since meeting Polly, Jace Junior was in a semi- permanent state of being, so to speak.
I grasped my length, giving it firm strokes. Last night, I’d started on the third book of the American Tail series that started off with a shower scene that was fire. I imagined Polly here in the shower with me, doing everything that was laid out in the book, my fantasies running wild. I pictured her fisting my cock, biting my shoulder, licking my neck, and whispering dirty things in my ear. I imagined water running down her body, her nipples hard, her core hot and ready for me as I turned her against the shower wall and thrust deep into her from behind.
I exhaled deeply, stifling my groan as I came hard, leaning back against the shower wall to catch my breath. I’d never been so confused about a woman before now. It was somehow simpler in the weeks I’d only been valeting her car. Then, she was this unattainable mystery of a woman, but she’d become real to me, and every new thing I learned about her made me want her more. She was strong and passionate with wit for days, yet at the same time humble and vulnerable. I genuinely cared for her. And I genuinely cared about her kids. I felt protective over her, in a way I didn’t realize until today, when I had my best friend pinned against the garage.
Then tonight, pressing up against her, feeling her shiver . . . it sure felt like interest. And even though she was out of my league in a hundred ways, even though I knew it was impossible, if I ever got the confirmation that this attraction wasn’t one sided . . . I was fucking going for it.