Chapter 38
Zoe
“Do you have your list of what made you feel happy and loved this week?” Jamar sits across from me, leaning forward in the leather chair with his elbows on the armrest, as if what I’m about to say is the thing he’s most interested in the entire world.
I nod, pulling the list from the bag at my feet. I extend my arm to hand it to him, but he shakes his head no.
“I want you to read it to me.”
I take a deep breath. My list is short. Not much has made me happy since I left Riggs. The worst part is we were still in our little happy bubble when I started the list. “Riggs woke me up with kisses.” My voice breaks, and I fight to keep from crying. If I start, I won’t be able to stop. “Avery drew a picture of the two of us for me to hang on my fridge.”
“Who is Avery?” he asks.
“She’s the little girl I take care of after school. Helping her has made me realize I want to teach deaf children.”
“You were worried about finding your path, but it sounds to me like you’ve found it.”
I smile, thinking of the little girl who showed me my purpose. “I want to make a difference.”
“That’s noble.” His smile is genuine and makes me feel proud of my choice. “What else is on your list?”
“Riggs made pancakes and served me breakfast in bed. Mom and I spent the entire day doing inventory in her store and talking. It was nice to reconnect with her.” I pause. My list is pretty much finished. “Um, I. . .”
“What happened that made you struggle to find more good things to put on your list?”
“My marriage is over.” Saying it out loud hits me like a hammer. I lean forward, hugging my knees. I place my head down and cry.
Jamar stays silent, allowing me to cry until I’m calm enough to speak.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Feeling your emotions is powerful. Do you want to talk about what happened?”
I inhale slowly, then tell him what happened. For thirty minutes, Jamar listens as I talk and cry. On occasion, he asks a question for clarification, but mostly, he just listens and offers me a new tissue when I shred the one I’m holding.
“I miss him so much,” I cry after I’ve told him everything.
“Is it possible you made the decision to leave because you’re afraid Riggs will leave you like your dad did?”
“I told you why I left. I can’t be responsible for coming between him and his daughter.”
Jamar leans forward with his hands steepled in his lap. “You didn’t talk to him about the best way to handle the situation. You assumed you should leave based on what you felt after having met his daughter twice and not under the best circumstances. Have you considered the possibility that this is a typical dynamic of their relationship?”
“Well, no. But I’m the problem right now. She’s upset because he married me, and I’m her age.”
He tilts his head to one side. “That’s a valid concern for her. Especially given the surprising nature of your marriage.”
I open my mouth to argue, but stop. Is Jamar right?
“Some people struggle with being happy. They’ll find a way to self-sabotage any chance they get. Is it possible that’s what you’re doing?”
Is it? “I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
“When you think about your father, how do you feel?”
“Sad,” I say, not sure why he changed the topic so abruptly.
“I’m not asking how you feel about his death. I’m asking how you feel about your relationship with him.”
I think about the two years before he committed suicide. “I was in high school. I was a cheerleader. I. . .” I sniffle. “I thought I had more time with him.” Why did I ask him if we could skip our annual back-to-school father/daughter dinner that year? “Once I got to high school, I barely spent any time with him.”
He rubs his chin and purses his lips. “I think we’re onto something. This week I want you to write a letter to your father. Tell him all the things you wish you would’ve said to him when he was alive.”
My mouth fills with bile as I think about the homework assignment. I rush to the side of his desk and pick up the trash can just in time for the contents of my stomach to make an appearance.
Jamar is on his feet, holding back my hair so quickly I barely have time to register he’s there when I retch again. He stays silent while I dry heave through my sobs. Normally, I’d be embarrassed, but Jamar is so calming that I’m comforted by his presence.
When I finally stop puking, he trades the trash can I’m holding for some tissues. He sets the trash can in the hall, then comes back to me. “When you don’t allow yourself to feel your emotions, they’ll find a way to the surface one way or another. Take this week to lean into those feelings. I suspect you never grieved your father’s death, and that’s what you’ll need to do before you can move forward.”
“How long will that take? I’m tired of feeling like this.”
“It’s going to get worse before it gets better, but it will get better,” he says, gently squeezing my arm.
“When?”
He shrugs. “Only time will tell. The grieving process is different for everyone.”
“I’m afraid I missed the boat.”
“What do you mean?”
I lick my lips, wishing I had a drink of water to rinse the vomit taste from my mouth. “My mom and my brother had each other. They went through the grieving process together. I’ll have to face it alone.”
“What if you lean on them, and they help you navigate this since they’ve been where you are?”
I shrug. Hmm, what if?
“Something to think about.”
“Okay.”
He pats my shoulder. “Are you okay to drive yourself home?”
The word ‘home’ triggers a new round of tears. I know I wasn’t at Riggs’s house long, but home is with him. Too bad I can’t go there.
Jamar clears his throat. “Can I call someone for you?”
I sniffle. “My mom is in a meeting. Can you call Stone?” We may not have a deep or close relationship, but I know he’ll come get me. If he can’t, he’ll send someone from the shop. My mom really is lucky she found him.
Jamar takes my phone and calls Stone. I listen as he tells Stone who he is and that I need someone to help me get home. When he’s finished with the call, he hands me my phone. “Stone said he and Bull will be here to pick you up and drive your car home. I’ll wait with you until they get here. Some sun will do us both some good.”
I don’t know how much time passes before Stone pulls up. Bull hops out and comes to where Jamar and I sit on the bench.
My boss holds out his large hand. “Give me your keys, and I’ll drive your car home.”
“I’m sorry,” I say through my tears.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. Take the rest of the week off. I’ll pick Avery up from school.”
“I don’t want to be an imposition.” If he fires me, I’ll be devastated. Working with Avery is the one source of joy in my life right now.
“Zoe, you’re family now. We look out for one another.”
I throw my arms around Bull, hugging him tightly. He rubs my back, cocooning me in warmth.
Sniffling as I pull away, I smile up at him. “You give the best ‘dad’ hugs.”
He smiles sadly. “Sweetie, I’m always here if you need some dad hugs or advice, but I think you’re overlooking the bonus one you’ve got.” He points to where Stone waits for me in the car.
Stone and I have gotten closer in the years since he started dating my mom, but with me leaving for college before he and my mom got married, I don’t know him as well as my brother does.
“I don’t want to bother him,” I admit.
“He loves you and your brother. Stone’s a quiet guy. It takes time to break through his walls, but I promise if you give him a chance to be there for you, he will.”
“Thanks, Bull.” He turns to walk away, but I grab his arm. “Tell Avery I’ll see her Monday.”
He smiles. “She’ll miss you, but I’m looking forward to spending some time with her. I’ve missed my little girl.”
“I guess I have hogged a lot of her attention.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean. She hasn’t been the same since she lost her hearing. Spending time with you these last few weeks has brought my sassy little girl back. She isn’t as sullen anymore. I suspect I have you to thank for that.”
I smile. “She’s remarkable.”
“So are you, kiddo. Think about talking to Stone. He might have some advice for dealing with that bratty step daughter who won’t accept you,” Bull teases.
I chuckle because he’s right. If anyone knows how to navigate blending a family, it’s Stone.
I slip into the passenger seat. “Thank you for coming to get me. Jamar thought maybe I was too upset to drive.”
“I’m glad you thought to call me.” His voice is smooth and rich, giving me a feeling of calm.
We drive in silence for several blocks before Stone turns off the music. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”
“Did Mom show you the article?”
He nods. “Yeah. That was rough.”
“I don’t want to be the reason Riggs loses his daughter or that Calla loses her father. I’d never be able to live with myself.”
He nods, keeping his eyes trained on the road. “It was hard when Jules and I first got together.”
I cringe. “I’m sorry I was such a brat.”
He chuckles. “I’m not talking about that. Though it was a lot harder to get you to accept me than it was your brother. It was a stressful situation with your father being around but not knowing who he was or who you all were. I worried that I was upending your family. After losing my younger brother destroyed my family, I felt terrible about doing that to yours. But your mom. . .” He shakes his head, smiling. “She’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”
“I didn’t realize how much Mom needed you at the time,” I admit. “Now I understand.”
“You know, your mom was shocked when you up and married Riggs with no warning, but I wasn’t.”
“You weren’t?”
“Nope. I mean I was surprised it was him, considering I thought you’d only met him the one time at Sin & Ink. You’ve always been searching for someone to ground you. Seeing you with Riggs, it all made sense. You two shine when you’re together.”
“But he’s so much older than me.”
Stone nods. “That’s why you two work so well. You need someone who will adore you, but also won’t take any of your shit.”
“I’m afraid I’ve ruined everything,” I admit.
“If he feels for you what I feel for your mom, trust me when I say this. There’s nothing that will make him stop loving you. Nothing.”
I hope he’s right.
Later, when I’m tucked away in their guest room, I try to start my letter to my father. If I’m going to be able to deal with the Calla mess, I have to deal with my unresolved feelings toward my dad first.
After two failed attempts, I tear up the paper. I’ll start my letter tomorrow.