18. Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
J ax was standing on his front porch when Carson rolled into the driveway. It was too cold of a night to be outside. The weatherman had been warning the public for days about a cold front that would hit Thanksgiving Day. Even with the heater on full blast and a thick sweater, Carson wished she had put on fuzzier socks and a beanie.
The drizzle of rain didn’t deter him from ambling around to the passenger side as soon as her truck stopped. He let the icy droplets land on his face, wetting his hair. If it were Carson, she’d be dashing to get into the warm cab.
Jax slipped inside, his build squeezing into Carson’s smaller pickup. Maybe that was why he’d purchased a diesel equipped with more spacious seating.
“Hey,” Carson said, turning down the radio as a new song began. It was a Christmas carol that had no right to be playing on Thanksgiving.
“Hi.” The tip of Jax’s nose was red. He wasn’t even wearing a jacket, just a gray long-sleeved flannel that definitely wasn’t thick enough to battle the weather.
“You’re not cold?” Carson asked.
Looking down at himself, he barely lifted his shoulders. “Not really.”
Although Jax’s body was beside her, she could tell his mind was somewhere else entirely.
Hundreds of scenarios flashed in Carson’s mind. Was it Kristen? Was she planning to continue her fight for money? Or had something happened to one of his family members? His sister-in-law just had her baby. Had he finally had enough of Carson’s problems and decided to break up with her?
“Everything okay?” Her question was timid, afraid that she might scare him off.
Closing his eyes, Jax leaned his head back. Even in the dim light, Carson could have sworn she saw the color drain from his face.
“Hey, what’s going on?” She reached over and grabbed his freezing hand. As soon as she touched him, he put his other hand on top of hers. Hopefully Carson’s fingers were hot enough to warm his.
Jax chose silence for a little longer, squeezing his eyes shut. His breathing was slow, methodical.
“Talk to me, Jax.”
Eyes fluttering open, he looked down at his lap.
“Did something happen at work today?” she asked.
Jax let out a long breath. “We got a call for DV.”
“DV?”
“Domestic violence.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Carson rubbed her thumb against his hand in an attempt to encourage him.
“The husband went into a drunken rage. We were treating the wife’s injuries trying to persuade her to go to the hospital. But she couldn’t because she had children.” Jax had to swallow before he could continue. “Then four little boys came down the stairs.”
It only took a second for his words to register what that meant to him. Oh .
Finally, Jax looked at her, eyes wet with history. “I saw myself. I saw my family. That was my ma who was black and blue.” He buried his face in his hands, and his shoulders began to shake as his whispered sobs filled the silent night air.
“I’m so sorry, Jax,” Carson said, her own sobs threatening to clog her throat.
How she wished she could take away his pain. Make him forget the horrors of his childhood. She reached up to touch his shoulders, an attempt to soothe him. At her touch, Jax unraveled and rolled into her, and Carson stretched her arms around him in the small of the front seat.
She held him tight. Held the little boy who watched his mother beaten by his father. In that moment, she was grateful for the childhood she’d had, because it was nothing compared to his. At the end of the day, no matter how terrible her mother was, Carson had never felt unsafe in her own home.
The minutes ticked on, and Jax didn’t let go, even after his sniffles stopped and his breathing evened out. Carson could only imagine what he was processing, the demons he was fighting. Hoping to give him some sort of solace her hand slid up and down his back.
“We should probably go before Raegan serves our heads for dinner,” Jax said, his breath hot against her neck.
“I don’t mind eating a cold turkey.”
Jax pulled away and rubbed the sadness from his eyes. “Yeah, but I mind eating cold mashed potatoes and gravy.” After straightening in his seat he zipped the seatbelt into place.
“You sure? We don’t have to go tonight. We can always rain check,” Carson offered. Last year, she’d rescheduled Thanksgiving dinner with Raegan and Hunter. Instead of carving the turkey, she’d stayed home and carved her body.
Jax’s smile couldn’t hide his crushed spirit. “I’m sure,” he said. Then he reached up and cupped her face. “Thank you.”
“You guys made it just in time. Hunter just finished the turkey,” Raegan said, hanging her apron on a hook attached to the pantry door, her shoes providing her the extra inches she needed to reach it.
Unlike Raegan, who wore a silver-shimmering dress and stilettos, Carson sported only boots, jeans, and a sweater. Having to wear skirts and heels all week for work, she didn’t feel the need to wear them on her days off, even on Thanksgiving.
The dinner tasted just as delicious as it smelled. Buttered rolls, savory gravy and salted mashed potatoes, candied carrots, and seasoned stuffing made the meal a feast fit for a king.
After most of the food had disappeared into freshly full stomachs, Raegan placed a decadent chocolate pie on the table while Hunter pushed the assortment of dishes out of the way to make room. Carson felt like the table, not sure if she had enough space in her to fit more food, but the airy whipped topping looked heavenly.
If it weren’t for pie, Luke and Carson would not have celebrated the day of gratitude. Luke was also an only child, so family get-togethers were few and far between. And Carson had never really learned to cook, her mom never having taught her anything more than pouring milk into a bowl full of cereal or boiling a pot of water. But every year, Luke would come home with a giant pie—blueberry or key-lime or pecan or cherry—and no matter how full they were, they stuffed their faces with dessert.
Smiling, she thought of how Luke would always say, “There’s always room for pie,” and happily took the piece that Raegan dished out to her.
“So I have something to say,” Raegan announced, pushing the chocolate cream around her plate with her fork. She snuck an uncertain glance at Carson, then at Hunter, who gave her an encouraging nod.
Jax was shoveling the dessert into his mouth which reminded Carson a bit of Luke. The lit candles on the table flickered with anticipation, waiting for Raegan’s announcement. Raegan set down her fork and folded her hands on the table. Again, another uncertain look thrown Carson’s way.
It wasn’t until Jax also put down his fork, his piece having disappeared, and everyone around the table was looking expectantly at Raegan did she finally speak.
“I’m pregnant.” The words came out as if Raegan were getting something off her chest. Her eyes flicked again to Carson, apprehension shadowing them.
Her heart soaring with delight, Carson’s mouth popped open in surprise. Only now did she realize that Hunter was the only person at the table with a Blue Moon in front of him.
Instantly, she visualized Raegan having a little girl with long blond hair and rolls for days. Or a baby boy with auburn hair and kisses of freckles spread across his skin, just like Hunter. Then Carson imagined buying cute little clothes with tiny designs on them and the little shoes she loved to coo over when she spotted them at the store.
That was why, when Raegan kept staring neurotically at her, Carson went from feeling delighted to perplexed. Why didn’t Raegan seem happy about her pregnancy?
Jax didn’t notice Raegan’s nervous demeanor. “Are you guys serious? That’s awesome. Congratulations!” he said.
“When did you find out?” Carson asked.
“This morning.” Raegan shook off her apprehension. “I’ve been under the weather all week, thinking it was a stomach bug. But as I was putting two and two together, I took a test to confirm it. Both our parents know, but we are going to wait until after the first trimester to tell everyone else.”
“Look at you getting all knocked up,” Carson teased. “I can’t wait to see you with a big belly.”
Hunter reached over and put a hand on Raegan’s neck, and she melted at his touch. “Me either. You’re going to be so sexy.”
“Are you excited to be a dad?” Jax asked.
“Definitely. I’m hoping for a boy so I can coach his T-ball games,” Hunter said, dropping his hand from Raegan’s shoulder to pick up his fork and dig into his pie .
Raegan habitually patted Hunter’s arm. “Girls play T-ball too,” she gently reminded him.
“I don’t know whether or not I would want a boy or a girl,” Jax mused. “I can see the advantages of both.” Then he chuckled. “I can see the dis advantages of both.”
Raegan’s eyes flicked to Carson, whose insides liquified and puddled at the base of her feet. The guilt of keeping her infertility a secret from Jax made the chocolate in her mouth no longer taste sweet.
“I can only imagine having a mini-Raegan running around,” Hunter said. “My poor wallet will suffer even more if she’s anything like her mother.”
“Oh, stop,” Raegan chided.
Ignoring her, he continued, “I don’t know if I could play tea party, though.”
“You know that if your little daughter came up asking you to play tea party with her, you’d do it in a heartbeat,” Carson said.
Hunter pursed his lips in thought. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Having finished dessert and the table cleared of the empty, dirty dishes, the men migrated to the garage while Carson and Raegan found themselves in Raegan’s closet, going through her assortment of clothes. The closet was big enough to have a lounge chair for Carson to occupy while Raegan rifled through her apparel. She had just finished inspecting the stretch of a leopard print shirt, holding it up to her belly, before hanging it back up.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
Carson stopped rubbing her fingers over the velvet fabric of the chair’s arm. “What do you mean?”
Raegan gave her an exasperated sigh as though it was obvious. “I meant how are you doing about me being pregnant?”
“Um, freaking excited. Duh,” she said.
Carson could see the relief wash over Raegan. “Really? You’re not upset?”
“Why would I be upset?”
Raegan instinctually placed a hand on her stomach. “Because of your situation.”
Understanding hit Carson, and her heart swelled with emotion. “Oh, Raegan. That’s me, not you. Please don’t think I am sad about you getting pregnant. Because I’m not . . . at all.”
“Hunter and I debated telling you today or waiting,” Raegan said. “We didn’t want you to feel—”
Carson cut her off. “I am so elated to be an aunt. Well, a metaphorical aunt.” Then she stood and walked over to Raegan. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m fine. ”
Raegan’s lips lifted. “Okay.”
They turned their attention to the hanging rack of pants.
“Does Jax know?” Raegan asked quietly, her voice barely over a whisper.
Carson’s smile faded. “No. Not yet.”