Chapter Twenty-Four
The adrenaline rush of the whole day hadn’t ebbed by the time I went to bed.
After a brief conversation with Jackson, I tried to sleep that night, but nothing worked.
Finally, I pushed back the covers and tiptoed to the kitchen.
Rather than switching on a light, I used the one in the refrigerator to pour a glass of milk, and carried it to the living room in the dark.
“Couldn’t sleep, either?” Tressa asked.
Her voice startled me so badly that I jumped and had to do some fancy footwork to keep from spilling milk all over her.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” she said.
I sat down on the other end of the sofa and turned on the lamp beside me. “No problem. I thought I was the only one who had a dose of insomnia tonight. All the excitement of the day hasn’t settled, I guess.”
“I had another nightmare,” she whispered.
“Want to talk about it? I had one a few days back, and it helped me to talk about it.”
“You go first,” she said.
I told her about the dream I had when Jackson was so upset.
“Sometimes I worry that I’ll end up like my mother, dead at an early age .
. .” I then went on to tell her about the accident that took Mama’s life.
I remembered part of a quote that said something about paying it forward, and hoped that I could help Tressa as much as my newly found family had helped me.
“That’s so sad, but . . .” She paused and swiped a tear from her eye. “At least you had a few years of good.”
Poker had taught me to be patient. I waited and sipped on my milk.
“I had four stepfathers, and too many boyfriends to count came and went in my mama’s life.
They were all cut from the same cloth. Sweet as sugar cookies until she married them or let them move into the house with us.
Meaner than a snake when they got drunk or high.
They slapped Mama around and eventually did the same to me.
There are a few good memories, but those are centered around when Mama was between men. ”
“I guess I should be thankful for those good years,” I said.
Tressa nodded. “Yes, you should. Cherish them. What happened after your mother died?”
“Frank—that was my father—and I went on the road for eight years and played poker,” I answered. “Is your mother still living?”
“Last I heard. She disowned me for going to the cops when one of her boyfriends almost raped me,” Tressa said.
“It wasn’t hard to leave her behind and promise Miz Ilene that I wouldn’t look back, but it’s tougher than I imagined.
Memories keep popping up, and nightmares about my baby blaming me for not living. ”
I scooted over and draped an arm around her shoulders. “I understand, but you can’t blame yourself for what is not your fault.”
“I made the choice to live with a man who had already abused me, so how is it not my fault?” she asked.
“We had crazy role models. You lived with abuse and rejection. That’s what you knew.
I lived with a father who loved poker more than his kid.
Putting the next card game ahead of everything in the world—including happiness, roots, and a family—is what I knew.
We can help each other take baby steps forward until the past is so far back there that it’s not even a blip on the radar. ”
“I don’t know that I’d be much help to you,” Tressa said.
I gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Honey, when four women stick together, we’re stronger than a three-ply rope. Nothing can keep us back. We empower each other, and with every conversation, we get tougher.”
“Like that therapy stuff people talk about?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” I agreed.
“So, I can talk to you anytime?”
“Yes, ma’am, even in the middle of the night—and even if I’m out with Jackson.”
“I wouldn’t do that unless it’s an emergency,” she promised. “You can do the same.”
“Thank you,” I said as I stood up. “We are here for each other. Always remember that.”
“I will, but it’ll take a while for the idea to really soak in. I’ve never had that kind of friends or family before.” She yawned. “I think I can sleep now.”
“Me too. Thanks for the therapy session.”
“Right back at you,” she said.
The aroma of hot cheese and pepperoni wafted out from the back seat to meet me when Jackson opened the door.
Plain old pepperoni used to be a staple in my poker days.
I could order it online and have it delivered directly to my room.
Supper could be before or after a game, if it didn’t last past midnight, and I could eat in my pajamas.
Pizza, biscuits and gravy, and anything Italian was food that I would never grow tired of.
Even if I had eaten the same thing with all the ladies the night before, I was more than ready to have it again.
“I’ve missed you this week,” Jackson said when he slid in behind the steering wheel. “I’ve got cold beers at the trailer, and the pizza is—”
“I know,” I butted in. “It smells so good, and I’m hungry. The special at the café on Saturday is beef tips and noodles, and there wasn’t a single bite left in the pot after the second bus came and went.”
“Well?” he asked.
“What?”
“Did you miss me at all?”
I unfastened my seat belt and leaned over the console to kiss him on the cheek.
“You are the last person in my thoughts when I go to sleep and the first one when I wake up in the morning. When I’m at work, every little thing reminds me of something you said or that we shared.
So yes, I missed you, and yes, I’m glad to have this time to spend with you tonight, and yes, I do want a proper kiss when we get to the trailer.
Until I met you, I thought that these kinds of feelings were only found in romance books. ”
I caught myself before I added, “Especially after hearing stories of Rosie’s, Tressa’s, and Scarlett’s pasts.”
He chuckled. “I don’t read romance books.”
“Life can sure have some twists and turns, and turn into a mystery, can’t it?” I asked.
“Do you want to solve it?” he asked.
“Solve what?”
“The mystery.”
“It was a figure of speech,” I told him. “I’ll admit that there was chemistry between us from the beginning, but most couples aren’t where we are now until a year down the road. Do you want to explain that?”
“Are you a little testy tonight?” he asked.
“If testy and hungry are the same thing, then yes, and . . .” I stopped long enough to flash a grin toward him. “I’m hungry for more than pizza and beer. I want a couple of those toe-curling kisses to keep me from being so grouchy. I have missed them very much.”
He chuckled and made a turn into the trailer park. “You say what’s on your mind, and I like that.”
“I’m glad, because I don’t know how to do anything else,” I said.
“But honestly, it seems like we’re moving too fast, doesn’t it?
I can tell you everything about any kind of poker you want to talk about, but this is a whole new game for me.
Do people really get this serious after less than a month? ”
He parked in the narrow space between his and Ada Lou’s trailers. “Sometimes they do. I knew the first time I laid eyes on you that there were vibes between us. The stars aligned for us, and we can either ignore them like you did Lady Luck, or we can give thanks for them.”
He got out of the truck, but I didn’t wait for him to open the door for me that night.
He handed the pizza to me on the porch, unlocked the door, and swung it open.
I went inside and set the two boxes on the stove.
But when I turned around, he was right behind me with open arms. I took a step forward and his mouth landed on mine.
For several minutes, we made out right there in the tiny kitchen area, and then he took a step back.
“I was starving for your kisses, even more than the pizza, so we had dessert first.” He kissed me on the forehead and took two beers from the refrigerator. He twisted the tops off both and handed one to me.
My body was still tingling when I took a long gulp, but not even the icy cold soothed the heat in my body.
With the few sexual encounters I’d had through the years, nothing had ever affected me like kissing Jackson Armstrong.
I wanted to take it further, but suddenly I had second thoughts, so I blinked away the idea of this being the night to go to the next level with a sigh.
“Let’s take the pizza and beer to the living room and get a movie going. What do you want to watch tonight?”
Nothing with a lot of kissing or falling into bed.
I removed my coat, crossed over to the living area, and eased down on the sofa. He brought the pizza and set it between us.
“How did you know that I liked pepperoni?” I took the first slice out of the box and bit into the pointed end.
Strings of hot cheese strung out and stuck to my chin.
Jackson moved closer to me and wiped it away with one of the paper napkins the pizza place had given him.
“I’m as graceful as a drunk elephant on ice. ”
“That’s a joke. I watched you at the steak house, and you moved across that dining room like a ballerina when you came back from the ladies’ room.”
“Thank you, but I was being very careful that evening. I didn’t want your mother to see me fall, jerk one of those white cloths off a table, and wind up on the floor with tomato bisque or whatever other fancy soup they served all over me.”
He laughed out loud. “Is Clara Williams as funny as Carla Wilson?”
“No, sir. Clara is dead serious. She doesn’t smile except when she’s trying to throw another player off his game.”
The laughter stopped. “Does that mean that when you give me one of your smiles, you are trying to manipulate me?”
“I’m Carla when I’m with you, not Clara,” I answered. “You never did answer my question about knowing that pepperoni is my favorite.”
“I don’t know about Clara, but Carla doesn’t look like a pineapple and ham person to me, or a black olive and sausage,” he answered and opened the movie drawer.