Chapter 26
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Markie
“Can you strain the potatoes, Mira?” Lolly asks.
“Sure.”
The kitchen’s warm, filled with the scents of fried chicken and apple pie—two not so great choices to cook when it’s so hot out—but when Lolly asked Jory for Gus’s favorite foods last night at the wedding, that was his answer.
“I just know Martha Reed is going to give me hell about not attending church this morning,” Lolly says.
“I’m not saying that I understand spiritual rules or anything,” I say, adding the bacon to the broccoli and cauliflower salad. “But I think saying ‘give me hell’ when you’re talking about the pastor’s wife and church is probably a no.”
Lolly rolls her eyes. “It’s the same as saying give me heck.” She looks at me over her shoulder. “And like you have any room to talk. You were practically fornicating with your new hottie in front of the pastor last night.”
I gasp. “I was not.”
“You kind of were,” Mira says, giggling.
Last night is a little fuzzy, some parts more than others.
I distinctly remember getting back to my house and barely making it through the front door fully clothed.
An art piece Gianna gave me for my birthday fell off the wall and shattered when Jory slammed my back against it while he was fucking me.
Somehow, I think Gianna will understand.
“I sat on his lap.” I go back to my task, mostly so they can’t see my blush. “We were fully clothed. It’s you two who are the problem. Your minds are in the gutter all the time.”
Mira laughs. “It’s amazing that you, of all people, can say that sentence with a straight face.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“Oh, nothing.” Mira grins at our grandmother as she grabs the milk and butter from the fridge. “What did you think of Jory last night, Lolly?”
“I think that he would make beautiful grandbabies.”
“Lolly!” I pick my jaw up off the floor. She doesn’t know that our relationship is based on a lie Jory told Jasper in the bar, and I’d like to keep it that way. But that doesn’t make any of this less uncomfortable. “Let’s not … we’re not ready for that kind of language, okay?”
“You must’ve gotten that from your father’s side of the family,” Lolly says. “Because the first thing I see when I look at that man is give me babies.” She pauses. “Well, you babies. I was meaning if I was about forty years younger.”
Mira smirks. “You better watch her, Markie. Take it from me. When she starts talking about your man this way, it only gets worse.”
We exchange a smile behind Lolly’s back.
Sunday dinners now that Mira’s back in Sugar Creek are my favorite part of the week.
Lolly and I have always shared a meal after church as long as we’re both in town—with her being out of town much more than me.
But with the three of us together, and now Hartley, too, it reminds me of when our parents were alive.
We’d all go to Lolly and Pop’s and have a big meal on Sunday afternoons.
They’re some of the best memories I have of my family, and one of the traditions that I hope to keep alive if I ever have a family of my own.
“There he is,” Lolly says as the door opens. Hartley comes in looking like he sang karaoke last night. “How are you, handsome?”
He kisses her cheek. “Smells good in here.”
“You look like shit,” I whisper to my brother-in-law.
He leans down so Lolly can’t hear. “I just saw Jory in the driveway, and he doesn’t look much better.”
I drop the knife.
Hartley chuckles. “I have a feeling this is gonna be a good time.”
I glare at him as he washes his hands and then helps carry the food to the table.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, exiting through the back door before anyone can object.
The sun is hot on my face as I turn the corner of the house. The only other guy I’ve ever brought to dinner—besides a guy I dated in college—was Jasper. But he was so high the entire time that I’m not sure if I can even count him as present.
Any nerves I have of bringing Jory and Gus to dinner disappear as my gaze lands on the two of them. Dressed in jeans and polo shirts, they’re ridiculously handsome. Gus is such a mini version of Jory that it’s wild. And the flowers in Gus’s hand? Such a nice touch.
“Hey, guys,” I say, smiling at Gus. “You better be ready for some fried chicken, kid. Lolly has been cooking all day.”
“She made fried chicken? Are you serious?”
Jory laughs.
“She heard it was your favorite food,” I say.
“Heck yeah!”
I lean up as Jory bends down to plant a kiss on my forehead.
“How are you feeling this afternoon?” he asks, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “I hated leaving you asleep without checking on you, but Gus got dropped off at like eight thirty this morning.”
I want to tell him that the juice and medicine he left on my nightstand, along with the little note, was more than anyone has ever left me in my life. But with Gus right here, I can’t.
“I’m okay. I think I would’ve been worse if I hadn’t been forced to drink water last night.” I side-eye Gus. “And the exercise after the ceremony helped flush it out of my system.”
Jory’s eyes heat. “I’ve heard that’s a cure-all.”
“I’ll definitely be trying it again.”
He slides a hand across the small of my back, letting me lead the way into the house.
“What do I call your grandma?” Gus asks. “Does she have a name? Or Mrs. St. James? Or what?”
“Well, she was my mom’s mom, so she’s not a St. James,” I say. “But you can call her Lolly. She’d probably be offended if you tried to call her anything else.”
We take the steps to the door, and Gus holds it open for me. A gentleman, just like his daddy.
“If Lolly says anything embarrassing or about grandkids, just play along and know that I can’t stop her,” I whisper hurriedly.
Jory’s fingers flex against my skin.
“I think everyone is in the dining room already,” I say.
“Are we late?” Gus asks, his brow pulled together.
“No. Lolly just got excited that you were coming and got dinner done much faster than usual,” I say. It’s partly true. “Hey, everyone. Look who I found in the driveway.”
Hartley comes around the table to shake Jory’s hand. Mira waves at Gus.
“Gus, this is my sister Mira, and her husband, Hartley.” I point to my grandmother. “And this is my Lolly.”
“You are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Lolly says. “Welcome to my home.” Her gaze lifts to Jory’s. “Both of you.”
Gus extends the flowers wrapped in florist paper. “Thank you for having us. I brought you flowers. Hope you like them.”
“Oh, dear heavens.” Lolly takes them and then pulls Gus into a hug. “You are the sweetest thing. Come with me and let’s find a vase.”
She winks at me as they walk by.
“We’re never going to get to eat,” Hartley says, chuckling.
Jory pulls out my chair for me, waiting until I sit. Then he takes the one beside me, across from Hartley.
“It all looks great,” he says, surveying the spread in front of us. “Is this a special occasion or just how she cooks?”
Mira laughs. “This is Sunday dinner. She forgets that she has two granddaughters and not an army.”
Lolly and Gus return with the flowers transferred to a glass vase. She sets them in the center of the table as if it’s her new prized possession. Gus beams as he sits beside his dad.
“Speaking of flowers,” Mira says, as Lolly gets situated. “I found the name of that florist in Nashville that we used to send flowers to Astrid a couple of months ago. I emailed it to you if you want to use it to send something to Tally for her surgery.”
My shoulders sag. “Yes. Thank you. The last place I used sent some janky, half-dead tulip or something, and it was like one hundred and fifty dollars.”
“I remember you said something about it when you were over the other night for the wedding planning stuff, and I stumbled upon it today.”
Lolly clears her throat. “Hartley, would you say grace?”
We bow our heads.
Jory and I reach for the other’s hands at the same time. Our fingers lace together under the table, resting against the side of Jory’s thigh. It’s one of my favorite things about him—the way he instinctively reaches for me like he doesn’t even think about it.
Last night, as I lay beside him in my bed, listening to his heartbeat in the still of the night, something inside me softened. I can’t explain it, but I felt it. It was like my body gave up the fight, like it chucked the shield it keeps around because it’s just too heavy.
Kind of like it’s not mine to carry anymore.
The thought is terrifying because what happens if I lose it? What if I need it someday and can’t find it? What am I supposed to do—just live life and walk around with a target in the center of my chest?
The hard part to rectify is that the only one who could hurt me is Jory. And the only reason I can lay it down is because of him, too.
“So, Jory,” Lolly asks as we begin to eat. “Tell me about you.”
He sits up straight as if he’s been put on the spot. I rest my hand on his thigh just in case it comforts him like it does when he does that to me. Have I ever been this in tune with a man before? I’ve seen it with my friends and their partners, but I’ve never experienced this.
“I’m from California,” he says like he’s in a job interview. It makes me smile. “I’m a rugby player and played with Gray for a few years in Nashville. I’m retiring at the end of next season, though.”
Lolly nods approvingly. “That’s good. Rugby is tough on your body.”
Please stop there, Lolly. Don’t bust out the adjectives describing his body. Don’t make it weird.
“It can be, yeah,” Jory says. “And I have to admit that I’m getting too old to get up in the morning and feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. I’m over it.”
I smile at him and remove my hand. He’s doing fine on his own.
“What are you going to do when you retire?” Hartley asks, lifting a forkful of mashed potatoes.
It didn’t occur to me until last night that Jory hadn’t met Hartley before the wedding.
I guess it was the first time we’d been anywhere as a couple even though that feels strange to think about.
But, unsurprisingly, he and Hartley hit it off right away.
They’re so different in their day-to-day lives, but what they have in common is decency and kindness.
And if we continue this once summer ends, they’d become even better friends. Maybe even family.
Oof. The way my brain just made that transition makes my head spin. Let’s slow your roll, Markie. At least get through dinner first.
I spear some green beans and pop them into my mouth.
“Well, I’m going to move to Nevada,” Jory says.
My eyes widen at the declaration, but I catch myself before anyone notices.
“You are?” Gus asks. “I didn’t know that. That’s awesome, Dad!”
That makes two of us, Gus.
I force a swallow and then down a large part of my iced tea, hoping it cools the heat in my face. Mira’s watching me closely, but I avoid glancing up at her, as she’ll read my surprise like a book.
Certainly, I knew Jory was considering the move. I even told him it was the right thing to do. But that was then—that was before … us. Before this felt so real.
Before I started to think that maybe there could be a future together.
I dab my mouth with a napkin and try to gather the wits that have just been scattered carelessly around the dining room.
A swell of fire-hot emotion rises in my chest. Absentmindedly, I rub it with my palm.
“Hey, are you okay?” Jory whispers, peering over his shoulder at me.
I paste on a smile. “Yes. I’m fine. I swallowed too fast, and it’s kind of stuck. I just need a minute.”
“Okay,” he says, unconvinced.
Maybe he’ll ask me to go.
But would I go? I glance around the table at my family—the people I love most in the world. Could I leave them? Could I go across the country and start a new life without them?
The thought of not having these meals every week makes tears prickle at the corners of my eyes.
I’m getting too far ahead of myself. I clear my throat and take a deep breath. Nothing has to be decided at this table. You have time.
Jory’s hand finds my thigh, and his fingers splay across the whole width of it.
This time, the comfort in his touch isn’t as strong as it usually is, because he’s moving to Nevada when he retires. And the fact that he hasn’t mentioned it to me says it all.
This “comforting touch” is absolutely temporary, and I should really remember that. Because I now know what it feels like when it’s not there.
When it won’t be there.
And I hate it.
I hate it so damn much.