Chapter 40 Car Confessions
CHAPTER 40: CAR CONFESSIONS
JACE
L acey lets out another little grumble, and I turn my head back toward the road ahead. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her adjusting her chair.
“So, pixie. What’s Colt doing in Texas?”
“He moved out there for school. Got a scholarship for baseball at UT and is loving it.”
“Are y’all still close?”
“Sorta. I try to check in with him as much as I can. I tried him a couple times this summer and he was supposed to call me back, but he hasn’t.”
“That sucks.”
“I know he’s busy.”
“I don’t think he likes me much.” I chuckle, remembering all of the times Colt and I crossed paths over the past ten years. My eyes flit to the necklace that still sits around Lacey’s neck and for a second I think about telling her it was from me, but I change my mind. I don’t want to complicate things for them or for us.
“Goodness, he was so young and so cute back then. I’m pretty sure he offered to beat you up,” she laughs. “I’m proud of him and you know Mom and Dad are elated he’s playing college baseball. He’s made all their dreams come true.”
“Are they not proud of you too?”
She’s quiet for a minute, and when I look over at her, she’s staring out the window lost in her thoughts.
“What’s on your mind?”
“Family’s hard. Don’t get me wrong; I love my parents, and I know I had it easier than most growing up. But sometimes, I feel like I’m too much, you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know like I’m not the super composed beauty pageant queen my mom wanted. I’m messy and say what’s on my mind. I’m dramatic and loud. Sometimes I think she’s disappointed I didn’t turn out the way she hoped I would.”
“I don’t think you’re too much.”
Silence hangs between us and I think about grabbing her hand, but I stop myself.
“I know your dad has to be so proud of you and your career. Your mom would be. She used to tell me all the—” She quickly takes a sip of her Coke and lets out a very fake cough.
“What was that?” Our eyes find each other for a split second and hers are full of something I can’t quite place.
“Huh?”
“You said my mom used to tell you. What did she tell you?”
She takes a deep breath. “Promise not to hate me.”
“I could never hate you.”
“Okay, well that’s not true.” She bites her lip. “And you have to promise not to be mad at your mom. She was going to tell you, or at least I think she was, but then she…”
“Died.”
“Jesus, Jace.” She slaps my arm. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Well she did, so I technically can’t be mad at her. Come on, tell me about it.”
“Okay, well after we broke up I saw your parents often.”
“That makes sense. Our parents were friends and we were neighbors.”
“Yeah, but like it was more than me waving hello. Like I would talk to your mom a lot.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like every Friday on the phone starting my freshman year of college until she passed away.” She says the sentence so fast that I’m not sure I heard her right. I know once I started college I wasn’t around very often, but I talked to my parents almost daily and Mom never mentioned talking with Lacey.
“See I told you. You hate me,” she says.
“I don’t hate you. I’m a little surprised, but I don’t hate you.”
She pulls out the bag of mini Starbursts and pops a few into her mouth.
“Why did she call you every week?” I try to keep my tone even. I’m not mad. I honestly don’t know how to feel about it.
“My freshman year I was really lonely. You were out of my life, Poppy was gallivanting around Europe with that asshat, and my parents were so wrapped up in work and Colt that I felt like I had no one. I came home one weekend and ran into your mom. She asked me how college was going and I lost it in the middle of the driveway. I mean like really lost it. Full on ugly cry.” She pauses. Any doubt I initially had about this revelation leaves me. Mom took care of her when no one else was around. I reach out and place my hand on her thigh, encouraging her to continue. To my surprise she doesn’t move away.
“So anyway, she held me in the driveway and let me cry. Let me get it all out and then when I was done, she double checked she had my phone number. Every week after she would call me on Fridays and ask me about my week. Encourage me to go out and meet people. Listen to me laugh or cry. It meant so much. During my darkest time, she was my light.”
“Wow, I had no idea.”
“I know, but she told me she would tell you when the time was right and then she got sick, and I’m so sorry.” Her voice cracks and her eyes gloss over. I squeeze her thigh.
“Y’all talked about me?”
“Well sorta. Not really. After a few of our first calls she brought you up and told me you were doing well. Told me you had gotten into Georgetown and that she was so proud of you for following your dreams.”
That makes me smile.
“Did she know what happened between you and me?”
“No. I never told her and she didn’t push. She would tell me she knew one day you and I would sort it all out and then we would go on talking about something else.”
“I’m glad she was there for you when no one else was. She was good like that. Knowing what everyone needed. I wish so badly she was still around.”
“Me too.”
“You know I haven’t been back to her grave since she died,” I admit, disappointed with myself for not being able to visit her. Lacey places her hand on top of mine. Our fingers wind together. Holy fuck, Lacey Sims is holding my hand. I try to compose myself.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. Too many things I guess. I feel so guilty I wasn’t here when she died.”
“I didn’t know you weren’t there. That had to be so hard.”
“Yeah, I was out on location for a project and it took Dad a whole day to get ahold of me. I came home as quickly as I could, but it was too late. She was gone and I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
She squeezes my hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“It is what it is. I entered the apartment lease with Tanner for Dad’s sake, but it didn’t change how often I was home. I stayed away because it was easier. If I’m honest, I’m scared to go to her grave. Scared of all the feelings it’ll bring up.”
“I understand. Is that who the sunflowers are for?” She lets go of my hand for a minute and gently traces the petals of one of the flowers tattooed on my right forearm.
“They were her favorite flower.”
“It’s beautiful.” Her fingers trail back down to my hand and she intertwines my fingers with hers once more. “I know how much you loved her.” I glance over and her eyes are glossy.
“Have you visited her?” I ask.
“Yeah. I try to go on her birthday if I can, but with work it doesn’t always work out. Your dad goes a lot. I’ve run into him a couple of times.”
“Am I the worst son in the world for not going?”
“No, she’s your mom. I think it makes sense that it would be hard to go, but I also think it would be really good for you to visit her. Talk to her. Have you ever thought about going with your dad?”
My stomach sinks.
“He always asks if I want to go, but I never take him up on it. The thought of seeing him sad at her grave is too much.”
She nods her head and lets out a little hum. “They were so in love weren’t they? Gosh to have a love like theirs. That’s the dream.”
“All Your’n” by Tyler Childers starts to play and I take a moment to take Lacey in. The sun casts a warm glow into the car and her hair falls over her shoulders—it’s somewhere between straight and wavy. Our hands are still locked together like two puzzle pieces always meant to fit. She hums along to the song.
I know without a shadow of a doubt that we could have a love like my parents did.
“It really is,” I say. “I can’t imagine losing your person and never getting to see them again. He doesn’t talk about it a lot, but I know it’s still so hard for him and I don’t think I could bear seeing him breakdown above her tombstone.”
“You know if you wanted me to go with you to see your mom I would,” she offers.
“You wouldn’t have to do that.”
“I know, but just like you got me. I got you. If you ever want to go, just say the word.”
“I’d like that.” Her thumb begins to rub soft circles on the back of my hand.
“I think she would too,” she says.
“I’m headed out of town tomorrow for a few days. Do you remember my Uncle Joe?”
“The conspiracy theorist?”
“Yes, him. He needs some help at his cabin, so I was voluntold to go.” I chuckle. “Maybe when I get back we could do it.”
“If you want to, we could. Or if you still need more time, that’s okay too.” She squeezes my hand gently. “I’m here whenever you’re ready.”
We drive the rest of the way home in silence. Lacey drifts off to sleep, but I don’t let go of her hand. She doesn’t know it yet, but if I have it my way I’m never letting go of her again.