Chapter 20
20
Devon
DEVON WALKED THROUGH his front door, ready to change clothes and tackle the garage Janie had been on him about clearing out before the weather turned. He’d barely made it off the welcome mat before Riley was there, brows lifted. “Where’s Janie?”
He knew his girls liked Janie and expected them to notice she wasn’t there for her Sunday cleaning. What he didn’t expect was the way his daughter glared at him, arms crossed over her chest, as if he’d done something wrong.
After closing the door, he bent to unlace his boots. “She’s at home. Taking a day to relax.”
Riley studied him with a wary gaze. “Are you sure that’s why she’s not here?”
He was very sure that’s why she wasn’t there. In fact, he was the one who told her to stay home and rest when he stopped by her place that morning on his way into work. Luckily this period hadn’t been as bad as the last one—the one that first brought him into her home—but she still looked tired and drained. Cleaning his house was the last thing she needed to be doing when she felt bad.
It was the last thing she needed to be doing regardless. And that was a conversation they’d be having just as soon as he figured out how to negotiate the situation without ruffling her feathers.
“I’m positive that’s why she’s not here.” He wasn’t about to tell Riley Janie’s personal medical business, so he left it at that, passing his oldest daughter on his way into the kitchen.
She followed, staying right on his heels. “Are you sure you didn’t upset her?”
That stopped him short and had him turning to face her. “What are you talking about?”
Riley lifted her chin. “I just want to be sure you didn’t do something that hurt her feelings.” Her lips pursed, the skin around them turning white from the pressure before she continued. “I know you have a habit of doing that.”
That sent his brows climbing his forehead. “I have a habit of doing things that hurt people’s feelings?” He shifted on his feet, bringing himself face to face with the young girl who was more adult than he might have given her credit for. “Have I hurt your feelings?”
Riley’s expression changed, turning almost sad. “I’m not talking about me.” Her voice grew softer. “I’m talking about mom.”
That almost sent him stepping back. “About me doing things that hurt your mom?”
She nodded, the movement jerky.
Where was this coming from? Could his daughters have figured out something was going on between Janie and him and mistakenly thought Maggie would be upset over him being with someone else? “What did I do that hurt your mom?”
Riley shifted on her feet, eyes dropping his. “Before she died, I heard her talking on the phone sometimes.” She paused, the fingers of one hand picking at the pointer on the other. “About how she wasn’t happy. How you didn’t even notice.”
Shit.
He scrubbed one hand down his face, bringing it to rub the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words for his daughter. “Riley honey, I…” That was it. That was all he had.
“I know mom wanted to divorce you.” She blurted out the admission. “I know she didn’t love you anymore.”
There was little she could have said that would have stunned him more. Except she kept going, breaking his heart as she stole the belief he’d clung to—that his daughters would never know the truth about their parents’ marriage. That they would never know their mother lost even more than her life and the chance to see them grow up.
“I couldn’t sleep one night. She’d been going to a lot of doctors and I was worried. I got out of bed because I wanted to see her, and I heard her voice in the kitchen.” She blinked against the shimmer of tears lining her eyes. “I didn’t make it all the way down the stairs. I stood there listening. I heard everything.”
He remembered that night. Well. It had changed not only his future, but also his past.
And now he knew it had done the same for his daughter. Tainted the way she saw her mother. Saw him. Saw them.
Riley sniffed. “And you didn’t get mad or anything.” A tear slid free. “You didn’t try to tell her why she should love you.”
“Come here.” He pulled her in for a hug, tucking her close so he could rest his chin on top of her head. “You can’t tell someone to love you, sweetheart. They either do, or they don’t. And your mom hadn’t been in love with me for a long time.”
“But she should have loved you.” Riley’s words were edged with anger he’d felt himself. “You took such good care of her when she was sick. Even though you knew she didn’t want you anymore.”
“Just because your mom didn’t love me the way a wife loves a husband, doesn’t mean she didn’t love me at all.” His chest ached at the thought of his daughter carrying this around all these years. Trying to come to terms with something she didn’t fully understand. “Your mother was a great mom. She was an amazing person. The way she felt about me doesn’t take away from any of that.”
Riley wiped at her eyes, sniffing against his chest. “It’s hard to separate it all out. ”
“I know.” It was what he’d been struggling with for years. “But she wasn’t wrong.” He took a deep breath, revealing a truth he was still sorting through. “We were very different people. We’d been together since we were fifteen. After we graduated college, it was just a given we’d get married. Neither of us really thought about whether it was the right decision or not. If we fit together as adults.” He’d always thought he was lucky for finding the love of his life so early. For seamlessly moving from being a kid to being a man and a husband and father. It might have been willful blindness, but it worked for him. Right up until Maggie shined a light on all that was missing. “And it turns out we didn’t fit so well.”
Riley was quiet for a beat, but her next question wasn’t about her mother. “What about Janie? Do you fit with her?”
He opened his mouth to tell her it wasn’t like that, but Riley deserved the truth. Likely needed it. “Seems like we do.”
A slow smile worked across her lips, and her expression brightened for the first time since he’d walked in the door. “We knew it.”
Another surprise. “We?”
The smile on her face turned sly as she peeked up at him. “Olivia, Gwen, and I knew you guys liked each other.” She wiggled her brows. “And you’re welcome for us making sure you got alone time with her whenever she came over.”
Devon’s jaw went slack as he stared at his sneaky, meddling, conniving, brilliant daugh ter. “You know I’m capable of getting a woman on my own, right?”
Riley’s face scrunched up. “Are you though?” She lifted her brows, looking around. “Because it looks to me like you might have made Janie think you didn’t want to see her tonight.”
He’d worried plenty about his daughters and the relationships in their future. Turns out they’d been doing the same thing.
And it looked like they were worried he was going to fuck it all up.
“For your information, I’ve already seen Janie today.” He smirked, giving her a final squeeze before releasing her to turn toward the kitchen. “I went past her place before work.”
Riley followed him in, trailing along as he went to the fridge and pulled out the stuff to get dinner started. “Did you bring her flowers?”
He was starting to regret telling her the truth. “I did not bring her flowers at five in the morning, no.” He lined the preformed pie crust, carton of eggs, and container of ham onto the counter before washing his hands in the sink. “I did bring her candy on Tuesday when I went to see her.” He dried off, slinging the towel over his shoulder before starting to crack eggs into a bowl.
Riley watched him work, her brows pinched together. “What are you doing?”
“Making dinner.” He tipped his head to the oven. “Can you set that to three hundred and seventy-five?”
“I see that you’re making dinner.” Riley punched in the numb ers before returning to his side as he chopped through the ham. “But what in the hell are you making?”
“We’re cussing in front of each other now?” He dropped the ham into the bowl with the eggs. “It’s quiche. I asked Janie for a few easy meal ideas I could make you meddlers for dinner.”
“And quiche was one of her ideas?” Riley snorted. “I guess she did go to culinary school for a while.”
“She’s done a lot of things.” He’d managed to eke a little time out each day to see her, usually at her place, occasionally at The Baking Rack, and was starting to learn more about the life Janie led before coming to Moss Creek.
“She started school to be an accountant when she was my age.” Riley fiddled with the discarded ham container. “But realized it wasn’t right for her and dropped out.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Janie was always on the move. Even when she was at home, her ass didn’t sit for long. She was up and turning over laundry. Running the vacuum. Going through her closet to bring her winter clothes to the front and send her warm weather items to the back. No way would she be happy sitting behind a desk all day. “Careers are kind of like relationships. What you want when you’re young might not be what you want as you get older. You can keep pushing through and end up with a degree in something you hate, or you can cut your losses and move on.”
It was one more thing he liked about Janie. She didn’t settle. She didn’t keep going down the wrong path just because it was the one she’d picke d. Like the different careers she’d started and left behind. Like the twat she ditched in Tukwila.
On the flipside, when Janie wanted something, nothing got in her way. When she enjoyed what she was doing she was a fucking machine. He'd seen her in action at The Baking Rack and attacking the clusterfuck of his house. He had to assume she was the same way with relationships. When she thought it was right, she went all in. Possibly to a fault. One that left her devastated when things didn't work out the way she planned.
That's why he had to be careful. Had to take his time. Work up to where he wanted them to be slowly so he didn't scare her off. Things had gone wrong for her too many times, and at any sort of blip, she would jump to the conclusion that it was wrong once again.
But it wasn't. He was even more sure now that he knew his girls saw the same thing he did.
He'd just finished pouring the egg, cheese, and ham combination into the pie crust and was in the process of sliding it into the oven when the doorbell rang. Riley's excited gaze met his, and he knew who she was expecting on the other side of the door.
If she was right, it meant Janie still wasn't comfortable using her key unless no one else was home, and that dampened his spirits a little.
But, as he made his way down the hall, it wasn't Janie he found in the entryway.
"It's my favorite people." Sharon came in, giving Riley a long squeeze before coming t o offer him the same.
His mother-in-law came into town a few times a year and always went out of her way to spend as much time with his girls as possible, even though he could see how difficult it was for her. Especially with Riley. Riley was the most like Maggie, both in looks and temperament. While he imagined it was great for Sharon to see a piece of her daughter living on, it was likely equally painful.
"I just put dinner in the oven." He tipped his head, hollering up the stairs. "Girls. Nana's here."
Olivia and Gwen hurried down the stairs. They'd been close with Sharon before she moved to Florida, and it was nice to see they still held the same amount of affection for her.
"I'm going to go shower and change real quick." If his daughters heard him, they didn't acknowledge it. They were all focused on Sharon, much like they were when Janie came over.
A realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Their reaction was likely due to the loss of Maggie. When they had a motherly figure around, they soaked it up.
While she hadn't been able to have any children of her own, Janie was certainly motherly. She didn't just have fun with his girls—though they did spend time learning how to do hairstyles, practicing backflips, and watching movies—she made sure they did the things they should. Things he'd slacked on because of guilt and exhaustion.
It felt wrong to give his daughters shit about cleaning their rooms or taking out the trash after they’d gone through so much, ultimately losing their mom. It was also exhausting to argue and continuously remind. But Janie stepped in to do that without blinking. Seamlessly picking up the ball he’d dropped.
Riley had asked if he and Janie fit, and everywhere he looked he could see how her edges aligned with his.
After jumping in the shower and scrubbing down, he pulled on jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, padding down the steps to find his girls and Sharon in the living room, piled up on the sofas much the way they did with Janie. He gave them a glance on his way to the kitchen. After checking on the quiche, giving it a little shake to test for doneness like Janie had instructed, he pulled a bag of shredded potatoes from the freezer and started heating a pan to fry them up.
"Look at you being all fancy." Sharon sidled up to the counter beside him as he dumped the frozen potatoes into the screaming hot oil. "The girls said you're making quiche?"
"A friend of mine told me it would be a good simple dinner to try." He didn't want to keep what was going on between him and Janie from Sharon, but it didn't feel right to come out and say it either. He knew Sharon wouldn't begrudge him finding happiness, especially since—after talking to Riley—he was suspicious she might have also known what happened between him and Maggie. Even so, Maggie was her daughter, and telling Sharon he'd found someone was like throwing the fact that her daughter was gone in her face.
"That's good." Sharon gave him a smile. "The friend part, not the quiche part." She looked him over. "You could use some friends." Her head tipped to one side as she continued studying him. "You know it's okay to have a social life, right? Those girls are going to grow up and move away. If they’re the only people in your life, you're going to be real lonely."
He'd always gotten along with Sharon. She was a good mom. Both to him and Maggie. He appreciated it then, and he appreciated it now. "I know, and I've been working on it."
"Good." Sharon slid one hand across the counter, eyes wandering around the kitchen. "I'm glad you're starting to get back in the swing of things. I worried about you for a while, but it looks like you're getting it all sorted out." Her eyes continued roaming. "The house looks great. The girls are happy." Her eyes came back to his face. "And supposedly you have friends."
"They're not even imaginary." He gave her a wink, turning back to shift around his cooking potatoes.
"That's extra good, because I've got something I need to tell you." Sharon took a deep breath, blowing it back out. "I know I kept the trailer because I thought I'd move back after a few years when it got easier, but I’ve decided to stay in Florida, so I’ll be selling it."
Devon's head snapped her way. "You're selling the trailer?"
Sharon nodded. "It's time. I can't come back here to live full-time. It's too hard."
He understood. He'd honestly never expected Sharon to move back to Moss Creek, in spite of her claims. He also hadn't expected her to sell the trailer. "But I thought you were making money renting the trailer out."
Sharon shrugged. "I am. But sooner or later I'm going to have to start replacing things, and Janie's not going to live there forever. Who knows what kind of renter I’ll end up with when she's gone."
"Do you already have a buyer lined up?"
Moss Creek’s housing market was a tough one. Even more so now that Brett Pace and his wife Nora were flipping houses right and left. Even a trailer like Sharon’s would be easy to move because the pickings were slim. Moss Creek also wasn't exactly brimming with apartments. Finding a place to rent in town was just as difficult as finding one to buy. If Sharon yanked the rug out from under Janie like that—
"I'm hoping Janie will buy it. I told her what was going on, and she said she needed a few days to think on it." Sharon leaned close, reaching in to pull a chunk of browned hash browns free and popping them into her mouth. "I'm pretty sure she'll buy it. She loves that little place."
Devon stared at Sharon, his stomach bottoming out. Because, while Sharon was right about Janie loving her trailer, she was wrong about the rest. Janie wasn't going to buy it.
Because she couldn't.