21. Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
T ires screeched as the plane hit the airstrip, jostling its passengers. The tablet sitting on the leg of the man next to Carson slipped off his lap and hit the floor with a thud. He grumbled under his breath.
Jax placed a hand on her fingers, hammering on her knees. “Don’t be nervous.”
“Easy for you to say,” Carson muttered. “You don’t have to meet my family.”
Not only was she meeting Jax’s family for the first time, she was also the first girl he’d brought home after the tragedy of his ex-wife. Would they compare her to Kristen? Of course they would. Would she get along with his brothers? Hopefully. What would his mother think of her? Was Carson good enough for her son? She was trying to be.
What would they think about her cutting her skin?
The moment they stepped outside the William P. Hobby airport and into the passenger pickup area, Carson’s whole body became sticky, as if the air had become tangible and she could reach a finger out and touch it. She had never been to a place this humid. Sometimes, after a good monsoon, Arizona’s dry air would feel less . . . dry. Here in Texas, it was stifling. Claustrophobic.
A maroon minivan was waiting for them. Before they reached it, the side door flew open.
“Uncle Jax! Uncle Jax!”
Flaming red hair came spilling out of the car as two little boys dashed and jumped into Jax’s open arms, knocking over his suitcase.
“Hey, guys!” he rejoiced, wrapping them into a big bear hug.
“Be careful, boys,” a woman called, stepping out of the passenger seat. Her auburn hair was pulled into a ponytail, frizzy flyaways framing her face. Carson wished she had a hair tie so she could get her damp hair off her sticky neck.
A man rounded the hood of the van, and she had to do a double take. It was Jax, or at least his twin. Clone, perhaps? He was just as tall, maybe even taller. If it weren’t for the cropped hair, shaved face, and visible crow’s feet on the edge of his eyes, Carson would have thought they were the same person.
“You must be Carson. I’m Billy,” he said. Even his voice was the same! He gave her a big hug before the woman came up to claim her own hug.
“I’m Marlo, Billy’s wife,” she said. Now that she was closer, Carson noticed that behind Marlo’s clear-framed glasses was a sprinkle of freckles, dotting her nose and cheeks. “And this is Henry and Hayden.” She gestured at the twins who were currently latched onto Jax’s legs. “We are so happy to have you for Christmas.”
“Yeah, Jax wouldn’t shut up about you. Now we’ll get to see what the fuss is all about,” Billy teased.
“Good to see you too,” Jax said, giving his older brother a hug.
“I hope I live up to the hype.” Carson laughed, then continued to chew her cheek because it wasn’t entirely a joke.
They all squished into the van. Carson had to avoid stepping on an action figure, and when she sat down, she fished three LEGO bricks from underneath her and put them in a cup holder.
As Billy zippered back into traffic, Jax asked, “Where’s Elizabeth?”
From the front seat, Marlo leaned her head back to answer. “We left her with your mother, so we had enough room in the van. We were going to leave the boys too, but they insisted on coming.”
“Yeah, Uncle Jax, we wanted to see you first,” one of them said.
“Oh yeah?” Jax reached his arm behind to tickle them and their giggles filled the back of the car.
“Guess what, Uncle Jax? We learned how to ride our bikes!” the other said.
“You did?”
“Now we can ride a dirt bike just like you and Daddy,” the first one exclaimed, melting Carson’s heart.
“So, Carson,” Marlo continued, ignoring the excess noise, “have you been to Texas before?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“How are you liking the humidity?” Billy asked, using the rear-view mirror to look at her.
“Definitely nothing like Arizona.”
“At least you’re not visiting during the summer,” Jax said. “This is nothing compared to August.”
The city of Houston flew by. Tall skyscrapers jutted out of the earth with freeways and streets winding every which way, as if the labyrinth of exits and on-ramps was the only thing keeping the city together. The roads Billy was taking or which direction they were going was mind-boggling. It hurt Carson’s brain as they zig-zagged from one highway or feeder road to the next. It all made sense when she noticed a toll sign.
Eventually, the infrastructure began to dissipate. The dull colors of concrete and steel were replaced with earthy tones. She was surprised at how green Texas was for winter. She’d have to ask if Houston ever saw snow.
They left the busy highways behind and ended up on the tree-shrouded streets of Magnolia. Every once in a while, Carson would see a store or a building. She thought about how, in Arizona, she could see a town from miles away, but in this part of Texas it seemed everything was concealed by trees and more trees.
Billy turned off the main road onto a skinny two-lane that wound through a lush forest. Was it considered a forest or just foliage? Carson didn’t know. It was so different compared to the Arizona desert. Then came an unpaved road where the vegetation lessened, and a brick home appeared.
There was no driveway other than the gravel road that ended in the front yard. A compact gold sedan and a decrepit truck were parked between a shed and the house.
Carson bit her bottom lip, excited. This was where Jax had grown up. Just like him, it was quaint and easy-going.
The twins were out of their seats before the van came to a full stop. They climbed over Jax’s lap, yanked open the door, and hopped onto the ground before taking off behind the house. A light breeze stirred the petrichor-scented air around them.
“You have one hour until dinner!” Marlo yelled after them.
“I got your bags. Y’all go on in,” Billy offered, only adding to the southern experience.
Jax led Carson to the wraparound porch that featured a swing, a dozen potted plants, and small concrete statues of woodland creatures. One of them, a tortoise, was grinning at her as they stepped through the screen door into a front entry.
“Is that you, Jax?” called a mature voice from another room .
“It’s me, Ma.”
A matronly woman appeared at the end of the hall, wiping her hands on an apron that hung on her round waist. The wooden floorboards creaked as she waddled toward them, her short arms reaching for her son. Jax had to bend down a fair amount to hug her.
“Oh, it is so good to see you,” she sighed in his ear, then pulled away to pat his cheeks and turned toward Carson.
“Ma, this is Carson,” Jax said, his voice airy as if he was just as nervous as Carson. “And this is my Ma, Shirley.”
“How lovely it is to finally meet you. Jax has told me so much about you,” Shirley said before throwing her arms around Carson.
The hug was warm. Sincere. A true mother’s embrace; something Carson had never experienced. One time a classmate had made fun of her old, ratty shoes. When she had gotten home from school, seeking solace, her mother had scooted to the other side of the couch and instructed Carson to cry in her room.
“I’m so happy to finally meet you too,” Carson told her. Shirley smelled like vanilla, baked bread, and honey. Unlike her mother, who’d reeked of cigarettes and cheap wine. Would it be weird if she asked Shirley to never let go?
The front door squeaked open, and Billy and Marlo shuffled in with all the luggage.
“Go ahead and take those on up for them, Billy,” Shirley said, turning back to Carson. “I’ve made up beds for the both of you in Jax’s old room.”
“How’d Elizabeth do?” Marlo asked.
Shirley nodded to the bassinet in the living room just beyond the front entry. “She slept the entire time. Didn’t even make a noise.”
Marlo waved them on. “Come meet her. ”
Carson followed everyone to the bassinet, which was covered in frills and bows. Marlo reached in and pulled out a tiny baby, so tiny that Carson thought she was a doll. Her little arms reached high above her small head, tinted with black hair, while her legs and feet curled up in the signature newborn scrunch.
Marlo snuck in a few kisses on Elizabeth’s itty-bitty cheeks before handing her over to Jax, his hands swallowing her whole. Tenderly, he cradled the infant, automatically bouncing her up and down. With one last wiggle, Elizabeth settled into his arms, falling back asleep.
“She’s so little,” Jax said, not taking his eyes off the baby.
“That’s what all the nurses said at the hospital. They kept asking if we were sure she wasn’t born early,” said Marlo.
Carson stood close to Jax, tugging down the bubblegum pink pajamas that had bunched up and covered Elizabeth’s face. “She is so beautiful, Marlo.”
“I don’t think she looks anything like a Miller, except the hair. The rest is Marlo’s genes,” Shirley said, and Carson silently agreed.
“Thank goodness she takes after Marlo,” someone said from behind them. “Otherwise she would have inherited Billy’s big head.”
Everyone turned. A giant of a man came thudding down the stairs, looming over everyone in the room. As he got closer, Carson could see the resemblance to the other brothers, the piercing blue eyes and hard jawline. But he had chestnut hair, like Shirley’s, that touched his shoulders. His shoulders were so wide, Carson was curious if he could fit through doorways without having to turn sideways. And he was thick with muscle, but natural muscle, like a rhinoceros. That was it. He reminded her of a rhinoceros.
“This is my oldest brother, Beau.” Jax, still bouncing the sleeping baby, nodded to the rhinoceros.
Before Carson could say hello, Beau took her into his heavily tattooed arms and gave her a hug that squeezed the air out of her lungs. “So you’re the girl that my baby brother has deceived into liking him,” he said in his throaty voice. Then he examined her up and down. “You’re too good-looking for my brother. How much is he paying you?”
Carson snorted. “Not enough.”
He grinned crookedly, thanks to a vertical scar on his upper lip which Carson presumed was from a corrected cleft-lip. Glancing back at Jax, he jutted his thumb at her. “I like her.”
A tiny whimper called everyone’s attention as Elizabeth began to fuss.
“She’s probably hungry,” Marlo said, reaching to take her from Jax.
“Wyatt and Emily should be back any moment, and then we’ll be ready to eat supper,” Shirley announced, making her way back to the kitchen. “I bet you two are starving after traveling all day.”
Shirley was hunched over the oven, her graying hair pinned up and out of her face, pulling out what looked like a chicken pot pie with mitted hands. Marlo was juggling Elizabeth in one arm while stirring ice and lemon slices around in a glass pitcher; the liquid inside was the color of dark caramel. Out the window, Carson could see Henry and Hayden running in circles with foam swords in their hands. Watching the boys play make-believe without a care in the world made her smile.
It didn’t feel right standing there while everyone else bustled around, so she asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Shirley sat the large pie on the stove top and removed her oven mitts. “Oh, thank you dear, but everything is already taken care of.”
“I have a job for you,” Marlo said, holding out the baby. “Can you hold her while I round up the boys?”
“Of course.” Carson gladly accepted Elizabeth and cradled her to her chest. Pressing her cheek to the top of Elizabeth’s head she breathed in, forgetting about the newborn baby smell. It was clean like soaps and lotions. Instinctually she patted the baby’s diaper.
Would her baby boy have been born just as small? She guessed he would have been long for a newborn, as Carson and Luke were both taller than average. Or maybe he would have been a chunk, barely fitting into newborn sizes. Her lips drooped, not being able to know the answers. Yet holding Elizabeth seemed to be healing a part of her soul. The mother within her had been waiting five long years to hold a baby, and now she could.
Shirley painted the pie’s crust with butter, then took it to the dining room as Carson stood in the kitchen rocking Elizabeth back and forth. Wanting to do at least something, she grabbed the pitcher of iced tea with one hand, walked into the dining area, and sat it next to a bowl full of salad on the table.
Shirley leaned through an archway that led to the front living room. “Dinner is ready.”
One by one, the family shuffled in. The twins zoomed past Carson and hopped into their chairs with Marlo behind them. A guy, who reminded Carson of a younger version of Beau, only his brown hair was shorter and styled with gel and his lips free of scars, came in from the living room. So did a young girl with rosy cheeks and golden-brown hair. Carson guessed they were Jax’s younger brother Wyatt and his fiancée, Emily. They took their seats, not noticing her standing off to the side.
Jax came in last and found Carson with Elizabeth fast asleep on her chest. His eyes fell to the baby and back up to her. A corner of his lips pulled to one side, in a smile.
A tugging in Carson’s heart reminded her of the final truth she had been harboring from him. The time was coming nearer to finally tell him about her infertility. She could feel it.
“I can take her so you can eat,” Billy offered, interrupting her thoughts.
“I don’t mind,” Carson insisted.
Billy smiled with understanding and sat down.
It seemed only appropriate that the family said grace before they dug in. Because that’s what people in the south did, right? Carson hadn’t grown up religious. Other than using His name when she was upset, Carson’s mother never mentioned God. Carson eyed the large metal cross on the wall before closing her eyes for the prayer and again breathing in Elizabeth’s scent.
“Jax, did you introduce your brother to Carson?” Shirley asked after they had said amen.
Jax shook his head, having just taken a huge bite of chicken filling.
Shirley’s lips bunched together for a second, disapproving. “Wyatt is the youngest of my boys. And Emily is his beautiful fiancée. They’re currently going to the University of Memphis.”
“Why Tennessee?” Carson asked.
“It’s where I’m from,” Emily explained. Her voice reminded Carson of the mice from Cinderella , small and squeaky.
“We’re studying business accounting,” Wyatt said. “U of M is a nationally ranked school with a higher-than-average percentage to graduate and find a career in your area of study.” The way he spoke reminded Carson of an almanac.
A roll flew across the table and bounced off the far wall .
“Boys,” Billy scolded, cutting off the twins’ giggling.
“I want to know how the two of you met,” Marlo interjected, pointing her fork at Jax and Carson.
“At a softball tournament. I knocked her out with a door,” Jax said.
“You knocked her out?” Beau echoed.
Carson rolled her eyes. “Jax likes to embellish. All he did was open the door, and I was on the other side. I did not lose consciousness at any point in time.”
“But he did hit you with a door?” Billy pressed.
“I was in one of the locker rooms, running late. I threw open the door, and it slammed right into her,” Jax elaborated. “It hit her hard enough that it split her head open.”
Shirley choked on her food. “Jax Henry Miller, I have taught you better.”
“It was a complete accident. I was totally fine,” Carson added hastily.
“She had to get stitches,” Jax continued, moving Carson’s hair out of the way to look at her scar. Then he lowered his hand so his thumb could lightly stroke her cheek. “I still feel awful about it.”
“You should,” Beau quipped.
Jax dropped his hand onto the table. “We kept seeing each other at different events after that. Then I learned she had a dirt bike, so we went out riding, and the rest is history.”
Beau’s ears perked up. “You ride dirt bikes? I like you even more now.”
After dinner, Carson followed Jax up the stairs, passing more crosses and mismatched photographs hanging on the wall. She made a mental note to study every single picture before she left to learn more about his family history.
Their luggage was placed in the center of a small room, and two twin beds had been shoved in opposite corners. How Jax had ever fit in a bed that size, Carson didn’t know. Old treasures were sitting on the dresser and hanging from the walls: blue ribbons, a piggy bank, a Magic 8 Ball, a poster of Jeremy McGrath. She inched closer to a picture frame displaying a young boy in a green uniform, posing with a soccer ball. The boy looked nothing like Jax.
“That’s Wyatt,” he said. “We shared this room.”
Carson grinned. “I want to see baby Jax.”
He moved closer and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “I burned all of them. I was an alien baby with a deformed head.”
Carson only had one picture of herself as a baby, dressed in white ruffles and a bonnet, looking as if she’d lived on a farm before Arizona was declared a state. The photo was small and square, wrinkle lines and bent edges giving it character. Imagining Jax as a baby, Carson couldn’t believe he was ugly. For a split second, she wondered what their baby would look like. Quickly she stomped on the idea, angry that she had let her mind wonder. It was all the baby talk and holding newborns screwing with her head.
“You okay?” he asked.
Loosening her muscles, she turned around. “Of course. How can I not be when I’m in Jax Miller’s childhood room?” Then she narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not going to find magazines under the mattress, am I?”
Jax smirked. “No, that was Beau.”
A faint giggle came behind the closet door. Jax put a finger to his lips and took two steps to his right. There was another giggle. Then using that same hand he counted down from three with his fingers before he threw one of the doors open.
“Gotcha!”
Screams filled the room as Hayden and Henry scrambled out from the closet, trying to escape. Jax was faster and captured them with ferocious tickles. The boys squealed and laughed until Jax finally released them, and they darted out the door.
When Carson had finished brushing her teeth and said goodnight to Shirley, she was back in the room, closing the door behind her. Jax was already in one of the beds leaning up against the wall, fiddling with his watch. He was shirtless, wearing only gym shorts. His tattoo was a dark mass on his shoulder. Did it ever get cold enough in Texas to wear sweats?
Pulling out her own pajamas, Carson quickly slipped them on—wondering if she would get too hot in her long-sleeved shirt—before sitting on Jax’s bed. She could hear Elizabeth’s wails through the walls. Someone was walking down the stairs. Probably Billy, getting a bottle for his daughter.
Tossing his watch on the nightstand, Jax flicked off the lamp, extinguishing the last bit of light in the room. Then he scooted behind her, pushed her hair to the side, and pressed his lips to her neck.
“You surviving?” he asked, his hot breath tickling her left ear.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought you’d be overwhelmed with my big family.”
Carson bent back to look at him. “Not at all. It feels like a family.”
He snorted. “ Feels like a family?”
“It’s exactly how I imagined a family would be,” she said, facing forward again. “Like what I see in the movies.”
Squeezing her a little tighter, Jax gave her neck another kiss. “The movies, huh? ”
“This whole place is a movie,” Carson teased, thinking about the big city turned small town. The gravel road to a little house tucked into the trees. A family saying grace at the dinner table and having Christmas together.
“Are you ready for bed now?” he asked.
When Carson nodded, Jax sat back, hauling her with him by the waist. The bed was cramped, but she snuggled into him as he pressed his body against her back, encasing her in his arms. By now her eyes had adjusted to the dark room, and she could see the shape of the dresser.
“I’m glad you were able to come with me,” he said.
“Me too. I really do like your family.”
“Even Beau?” he asked, skeptical.
“Even Beau.”
“Give it a couple days,” he yawned, voice deepening with sleep.
She could tell he was on the edge of slumber, ready to fall asleep in the blink of an eye. A couple of minutes passed, and Carson herself was starting to get sleepy, tired from the day of traveling. She listened to Jax’s slow, even breaths.
To her surprise, he spoke again. “I liked the way you looked holding Elizabeth.”
A dagger stabbed Carson’s heart, and the room darkened, the walls converging on her. She kept quiet, and when Jax didn’t say anything else, she began to question if he said those words on purpose or in his dreams.