Chapter Forty-Six
Jo
“ D o you think it’s okay for me to keep some of these even though she wasn’t my real grandma?” Emory asks as we go through the paintings upstairs.
“What do you mean?”
“I know I’m adopted. She didn’t even know me.”
“She would have loved you, and I think she’d want you to have something of hers.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, family is what you make it. Your mom and uncle love you so much, so I know she’d feel the same.” Who wouldn’t love the little girl I’m sitting next to, full of sunshine and glitter, dressed as a fairy princess?
“Did you know her?”
“No, I didn’t. I met your grandfather once, though.”
“He was nice, he played with me. Sometimes I wish I had a brother or sister to play with.”
“I had an older brother growing up, but he was mean. We never played together.”
“You didn’t have a sister?”
“No, I do have another brother. I didn’t meet him until recently, though. He’s nicer, he probably would have played with me as a kid.” I shrug, feigning indifference when it really eats me up inside.
I missed out on so many years with someone who could have been good and decent in my life, but now we’re practically strangers, and it’s a hard relationship to navigate.
Especially since I plan to leave.
“Look at this one!” Becky says from the doorway, holding a canvas.
We had all split off into different rooms to start divvying out the paintings they wanted.
The one Becky is holding is a dusky evening in the wild strawberry clearing that Lochlan had taken me to.
“It’s beautiful.” The grass and trees, and the vines of ripe fruit, are in varying shades of dark green, making the strawberries look like rubies scattered in the thicket.
“You would think this place held some sort of lost treasure the way Lochlan always safeguarded it.”
“What do you mean?”
“He used to make me guess the password as kids before he’d let me in the clearing. It was his favorite place.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say.
I haven’t spoken to Lochlan in a few hours; he made himself busy and avoided me since our moment on the couch earlier.
“What was my favorite place?” He asks from the hallway.
I can’t see him, but I can imagine his look of concentration as he studies the painting she turns to show him.
“Do you want to keep this one?”
“No. I have the real thing.”
I hear his steps retreating.
“I’d like to have it. If you don’t mind.”
“Sure. Hey, Loch, go put this in the guesthouse for Jo.” She hands him the painting, and a wave of embarrassment washes over me.
I feel silly, holding onto memories of this place when he wants me to forget it altogether.
“I’ll get the other ones loaded into your trunk,” he grumbles to his sister.
“Are you sure this is going to help this place?” Becky asks once Lochlan is gone.
“Definitely. My friend is going to sell some of the originals as authentic one-of-a-kind, and the others will be distributed commercially. Money should continuously flow into this place as long as they’re selling.”
“That’s nice of your friend to help us.”
I shrug.
“I have a lot of friends, none of whom call me Jo.”
“Yeah, I get it. Anyone who calls me Rebecca is backhanded. In my mind,” she clarifies, laughing as she thumbs through the paintings Emory has already gone through.
“My mother’s name is Rebecca. She thought it was quirky to name her daughter in her honor. Which is weird since she dipped when I was five.”
“You never saw her again?”
“We saw her on holidays. When she wanted to introduce us to her husband of the month. She’s never met Emory, and I plan to keep it that way.”
“How old was Lochlan when she left?”
“He was nine. It was a lot harder on him, but he was brave for me. He always is.” She sighs.
“I was a mess at our grandfather’s funeral, but he was stone-cold and just held me throughout the entire service. I came back the next morning to pick something up when he was still asleep, and the house was destroyed. He must’ve unleashed everything once he was alone. I cleaned up shattered glass, mopped liquor off the floor, but I never said anything and I never asked about the doors.” She knocks on one that’s propped against the wall.
“I assumed they made him feel trapped, again.”
“I can only imagine how much pain he carries from those years,” I utter.
“He can’t seem to escape it.” She starts to say something else, but we both hear the steps creak as he returns to where we are.
“Jo, Jackson’s here. He wants to talk to us.” He leans into the doorway, looking at me finally, and my heart aches.
His eyes are heavy with his burdens.
“We’ll get out of your guys’ hair.” Becky ushers Emory out as we meet Jackson on the porch.
I use my last bit of energy to keep up my facade, waving to Emory as they pull out, and letting my smile drop as soon as they’re gone.
“What’d Frank have to say?” Lochlan asks immediately.
“It took him a few hours to sober up, but he finally admitted that he was blabbing his mouth in a bar, complaining about you and this place when a guy offered him 200 bucks to ram your gates.”
“Someone paid him off?”
“He was too drunk to remember who it was, and after grilling him on it, I believe him. I think he was pissed off enough not to ask questions, and cash was cash. The truck he used was unregistered, supposedly part of the deal.”
“Do you think it could have been my family? They’re pissed that I’m here. My mother stopped by this morning,” I admit.
“No, I think it’s someone local. Frank was at a hole-in-the-wall bar. No chance your family would be there to randomly overhear him.”
Lochlan’s gaze is distant when I look at him for his input, but I’m too unsure of things between us to touch him and offer support.
“Randall Porter’s local,” he finally says.
Jackson’s face turns stormy.
“Please, elaborate. I’ve been trying to take down this guy’s whole crooked family, and you could make my day.”
“I don’t know, he’s a mayor. I never thought he could be involved with anything illegal, but his name is stamped on every letter concerning my license and property. He’s made it known that he wants me to sell, and I’ve seen him in Conrad’s ear.”
“Seedy politicians,” I utter.
“Men who associate with Conrad are worse than criminals. They do horrible things and get away with it all the time.”
“Let me look into it. Don’t do anything unhinged.” He points at Lochlan sternly.
I’ve never seen him use his cop voice on him.
“If Randall Porter is behind this, then I’ll nail him.”
He takes off in his SUV without a goodbye or a wave or anything.
He’s amped up about the possibility of getting this guy, but unfortunately, that means Lochlan and I are alone again.
“I need to go check the fences,” he mutters, looking at my feet.
“Oh, right.” His head tilts up, hearing the disappointment in my voice.
“Do you want to come with me?” He asks hesitantly.
The sweet man that he is.
He can’t stand to see me sad.
“I’d love to.”
* * *
“Right there.” His arm stretches past me, pointing to a tree fifty feet in front of us.
“Look up.”
We’re in the enclosed side-by-side, deep into bear territory.
When he said he was checking fences, I had no idea we’d be inside the enclosures with the bears, but I haven’t been able to tame my excitement.
“Oh, oh. I see him!”
“It’s a her. Minnie.”
“Aw, Minnie. Why is she here?”
“She is mostly deaf after getting hit by a car. She was in treatment for so long that she got used to being hand-delivered food. They didn’t think she’d reintegrate well back into the wild. We think she was the one eating the rat poison, but other than a few piles of puke, she’s been fine.” He drives on and I wave to the bear that gives zero shits about me.
“We might see Rocko, he usually hangs out near Minnie. I think he’s tried to mate with her, but she’s fixed, so.” He shrugs.
“Why did they do that?”
“She was pregnant when she was hit by the car. Taking the cub out and attempting to save it ended up causing more damage. It didn’t survive.”
My lips droop as heaviness overtakes me.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly, reaching over to squeeze my hand.
He pulls away, but I hold onto it.
“I guess not all of us are meant to be mothers.”
“Becky used to think that, too. Now she is one. There’s always a way around roadblocks.”
“I think I would adopt someday, if I was stable and established.” I tip my head to the side, pondering it.
“But, mostly, I’d wait until I was implicitly happy with my life. ”
“I hope that happens for you, darlin’.”
“What about you? Are you happy?”
“I’m happier now than I ever have been, but not with my life.” He squeezes my hand.
“You deserve a happy life, too.”
“Maybe.”
“Loch–”
“Look, right over there is Rocko.” He points to a small gap in between some trees, and I watch the huge black bear amble clumsily through the brush.
“His equilibrium is all off. That’s why he walks like that.”
“There’s another one.” I point in the other direction, barely seeing the black fur through the trees.
“That’s Dodie.”
“I’d love to get a couple of pictures. I wrote about him in my thesis.”
He looks at me in surprise.
“About what?”
“The effects of amputation in adult animals and their chances of thriving in the wild with prosthetics.”
“I didn’t know you were writing about the bears.”
“Not just the bears, but I do highlight them. I didn’t want you to be mad.”
“Why would I be mad?”
“I didn’t want you to think I was exploiting them.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a hard ass.” He shakes his head regretfully.
“I’ve really dug a hole when it comes to you.”
“You have a lot of responsibilities. You don’t need to worry about my feelings.”
“But, I do. And, I hate myself for every time I’ve made you sad.”
“I’ve figured you out by now, Lochlan. The thing that saddens me the most is how you treat yourself.”