Chapter 12
Ellyn
It’s only been a few months since my last date, but this feels awfully like one.
Those are my thoughts when Joel places a full plate of home-cooked macaroni and cheese, turkey and gravy, collard greens and ham on the TV table in front of me. Oh, and I can’t forget the buttermilk biscuit.
“Did you really prepare all of this yourself?” I ask, eyeing the food. It looks delicious and my mouth starts watering just from looking at it.
“Not all of it,” he replies, taking a seat next to me on the dark grey couch.
Joel’s living room is extremely spacious. Unlike mine, there’s a wall that separates the kitchen and dining areas from the living room. Before us sits a fifty-inch flatscreen, mounted on the wall, above a brick fireplace.
“Micah did the collard greens. If you don’t like those, take it up with him.”
I chuckle before tasting the macaroni and cheese. The creamy, savory flavor explodes in my mouth.
“I suppose that means you approve.”
I glance over to see Joel watching me. While his expression remains neutral, the gleam in his eyes hints at the idea that he’s actually awaiting my approval.
“This is spectacular,” I say honestly.
He dips his head, glancing away, but I don’t miss the way his lips curl into a grin before he takes a bite of his food.
Joel turns on the television to bring up the Christmas broadcast in which Lena Clarke will be singing soon.
“Is Lena performing her Christmas album?” I ask after a few minutes of silence.
“Believe so,” he answers. “And a few of the classics,” he adds. “She must be exhausted. Poor thing,” he grumbles.
I smile at the gruffness in his tone while also holding a touch of softness.
“They traveled from the West Coast to be here for Thanksgiving and then left late last night to be on the East Coast.”
“Sounds tiring,” I reply. “But I’m sure they traveled here because they love spending the holidays with you.”
Joel grunts. “You think so?”
He looks at me expectedly. And I realize he’s not being facetious. Joel genuinely wants to know if I believe what I’ve just said.
“Yes,” I tell him honestly. “I haven’t met your kids, not formally, but it sounds like they have the means to come and go as they please. The fact that they chose to be here with you, even for a few hours, tells me how much they love you.”
Joel turns his head toward the television, allowing me to only see his profile. But I notice his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
“I knew things would change as they grew up and started families of their own.” His tone sounds resigned. “I see my boys more often than most men my age. I babysit my grandbaby every week out at the ranch. Aiden calls me at least once a week …”
He snorts.
“And it still feels like they’re slipping through my fingers sometimes. I’m a greedy son of a bitch for wanting more.”
I don’t know what overcomes me. Perhaps it’s the thick emotion in his voice. Or maybe it’s the way my heart kicks against my ribcage as I stare at the profile of this strong rancher upon hearing the melancholy in his tone.
Whatever it is, it leads me to reach over and take his hand in mine, squeezing it. A brief instant of surprise comes over me when he turns his palm over and intertwines his fingers with mine.
The next thing I know, Joel tugs me closer to his side. I push the trays out of our way and move closer to him, so that we’re not only side by side but touching. Leaning my head against his broad shoulder, a sigh involuntarily falls from my lips.
“Family’s change,” I murmur. “But that doesn’t mean they become any less an important part of our lives.”
He nods, peering down at me.
“Do you miss your girls?”
I smile while thinking about my daughters. “Yes and no. I miss them being little. Sometimes it feels like it all went too fast, and I was too busy living in it and doing for them than actually enjoying it.”
“And ‘no’?”
“No, because I also enjoy watching them at this stage in their lives. I love getting to see who they are as adults. Shanice as a mom …” I trail off, my chest tightening at thinking about my oldest daughter.
“She’s still upset with me over the divorce,” I admit.
Joel leans back, adjusting his body to wrap an arm around my shoulder, holding me in place. “Is she not speaking to you?”
I shake my head. “We talk, but she’s closed off. Short in her conversations before she puts one of the kids on the phone.”
I laugh but there’s no humor in it.
“I originally thought out of the two, Meghan would be the one most upset when we told them of our separation. Or, when I told them. My ex refused to even say the words or acknowledge what was happening for the first year.
“Meghan was only nineteen and still in her freshman year of college. Shanice was older, married, and had a baby of her own. But she took it the hardest.”
“Divorce is hard, from what I hear. My parents …” He snorts. “Barely knew my father. My mother was one of his whores.”
He looks at me nonchalantly when I lift my head.
“Her words, darlin’. Not mine. Anyway, neither one of my parents were worth a nickel with a hole in it. I knew I would never get married or have kids. Now look at me. An old man bickering at my son over broken Christmas lights.”
His laugh brings a smile to my face.
“An old man who rescues his neighbors from their dangerous bathroom floors in his spare time.”
He grins down at me with a lifted eyebrow. “Don’t forget I also breed and ride horses when not rescuing beautiful women.”
I let out a guffaw when he winks at me.
Applause on the television captures our attention, and Joel and I settle in to watch the on-screen performances.
By the time Lena Clarke-Townsend comes on the screen, the audience, Joel, and I are primed for her appearance.
Lena begins singing a jazzy version of “Silent Night” which is beautiful. One song flows into the next. While she has a few original songs on the album, it mostly contains her version of many of the classics we all know and love.
I curl my legs onto the couch, underneath me, and lean into Joel without thought. Here, underneath his arm, laying on his shoulder, bobbing my head along to the music feels natural. It feels like the most perfect place in the world.
So right that I forget my inhibitions and start humming along to the music. My humming eventually turns into me singing along with the lyrics.
It’s when Joel makes a noise at the back of his throat that I catch myself.
“Excuse me,” I say. “I didn’t mean to distract you from the music.”
He narrows his eyes, cocking his head to the side. “You have a beautiful voice.”
My heart instantly melts inside of my chest. I can’t help but recall back to the times my ex-husband would get upset with me for singing along to music as we listened. Eventually, I learned to censor myself.
That led me to stop singing along to all music, even when I was by myself. I tried so hard, early on in my marriage, not to make too many waves or to be a burden to my husband. Over the years, I lost so many pieces of myself, I forgot who I was.
It wasn’t until I lived alone that I started to sing again.
“You can sing along anytime you want around me,” he says as if he knows exactly what I need to hear.
My hand flattens against his chest. The beat of his heart beneath my hand is so strong, a reminder that I’m not imagining any of this.
However, it’s when Joel’s eyes drop to my lips that my heart almost gives out. The impulse to beg him to kiss me overwhelms me.
But once again we’re interrupted by the action on the screen.
Applause sounds, making Joel turn back to the television in time to see Lena begin her final song of the evening.