Chapter 80
Eighty
I’m running late after spending an inordinate amount of time hunting down the iron I’ve never once used. A string of curses leaves my mouth as I touch it like a dumbass to see if it’s hot. Yep.
Pressing the contraption against the material, I smooth the wrinkles on the white button-down shirt that I keep on hand for days when a suit is required attire.
And a funeral absolutely requires this attire, regardless of how it makes me itch. My mother taught me that much—and she also gave me this iron, probably knowing I’d never think to buy (or use) one.
A choked sob tries to escape, and I smother it, biting back the mounting wave of emotion.
I still can’t believe Terry is dead.
It’s going to be a tough fucking day.
I fly across the bay. When the guitar chords for “Fast Car” play through my stereo and Tracy Chapman’s husky voice starts to sing, the burn in my nose intensifies.
I’m already a fucking mess, but this song reminds me so much of Jax.
Of us. Of how we felt in so many ways. Broken homes.
Running away together. Memories in this Mustang.
Why the fuck didn’t I grab that girl and run? Where would we be now?
Living our dreams…together.
A few tears fall as Chapman sings her soulful lyrics against that haunting acoustic arrangement.
Leave tonight or live and die this way
The truth skewers me, and my tears turn blinding. I let them come, let this shit all out now so I can hopefully hold it together for the funeral.
I turn off the radio and smack the steering wheel.
Goddamn it, Terry.
Goddamn it, life.
Wiping my palm against my wet cheeks, I blow out a long breath. It hits me then. Did anyone call Jacqui and tell her about Terry? Perhaps Kendra, if they’ve kept in touch? Maybe she saw it plastered on the news? She’d want to know.
All this anguish rains down like hail, and for the first time since those early months after I quit smoking, my fingers itch for a cigarette.
I arrive at Chapel of the Chimes in plenty of time. Remy waves me over to where he’s saved me a seat near the front and I sink into the wooden pew next to him and greet Sherry.
The place buzzes with murmurs, honking noses, and people settling.
My collared shirt digs into my neck, my tie strangling me already.
I’m suffocating in this suit—and from being around this many people despite the cavernous size of this chapel.
I hate this. All of it. And the crux of it is I can’t fathom how to process my grief. It blankets me like a shroud.
Remy tries talking to me, but I guess my monosyllabic answers shut that down. I blank my mind, fighting the impulse to flee.
I’m filled with a new prickling sensation just as Remy elbows me in the ribs. I glance at him and he gestures behind me with his eyes, a smile playing at his lips.
My stomach drops, knowing before I’m even sure.
My head whips, searching the crowd.
And like a mirage, she comes in focus, the rest of the mourners blurring around her. A sunbeam shoots through the stained-glass windows, illuminating her golden hair.
Jacqui’s here. Here.
Our eyes collide and stick, a thousand moments flashing through my brain. My heart thunders as we stare for a full minute.
I feel everything.
The potency of it startles me. And scares me. She’s a vision. More beautiful, more alluring, more womanly than ever. My lips stretch into a genuine smile, and she freely gives one back.
The organ music rings through the chapel, signifying the beginning of the service. I force my gaze to the front as shockwaves ripple through me.
The observance begins with a sermon, with pauses for biblical excerpts and hymns, and is followed with eulogies by family, friends, players, and coaches, and capped with a final summation.
Terry’s solemn burial in the adjacent Mountain View Cemetery is even harder, and Remy and I, along with Jeremy and Vinny, serve as four of the eight pallbearers.
The finality of Terry in that fucking casket, lowered into a freshly dug hole where he’ll remain, guts me so completely, a few tears fall. I hastily brush them away. It’s unbearable glancing at his parents or my friends—their raw emotion is too much on top of my own.
We make our way to the reception, my attention shifting to the pulsing need to see Jacqui, spend time with her, and I don’t know what exactly…but it’s like an unexpected gift. The universe, or Terry, saying, Here, asshole. Try again. Do better.
Of course, that’s nonsense. I shouldn’t hope. But the way my heart burns inside my chest tells me everything I didn’t even realize, or allow myself to, until now.
That goddamn organ is still beating for this woman and this woman only.
I’m aware of Jax the minute she enters the reception hall.
I’ve been waiting and watching. Remy precedes her by mere seconds, and my eyes narrow, wondering if they talked.
But then Jacqui literally collides with Sherry, and I’d give my left nut to hear that exchange.
This is their first meeting—and I can only imagine what Jacqui’s thinking.
Considering our past, her dealing with both Remingtons in one hour is akin to induction by fire.
She moves into the buffet line, where she gives Leland a long hug.
A jolt of envy stabs me in the chest. She seems nervous, glancing around after she fills a plate.
Kendra waves her over to our table as I knew she would, just as Jeremy and Vinny bellow Jacqui’s name.
It’s endearing, really, and she releases a dazzling smile as she approaches.
She’s hugged and welcomed by our rag-tag group, and I’m slapped with a full hit of nostalgia.
“Bella!” Vinny chants, swallowing her in an embrace. “Don’t mind the fluffification.” He pats his expanded middle. “My wife likes it.”
“I do?” Stephanie says before smiling at Jacqui.
Jeremy lifts Jax off her feet, and it’s a stab to the gut at how easily he’s holding her.
“You a congressman yet?” she asks.
“State senator, baby. I see the years have done nothing but make you more gorgeous.” He sets her down, and I find my jaw clenched.
She flashes another big smile. “Still single and devastating all the ladies?”
“Unless you want to finally give me some of that.” He blatantly checks her out top to bottom, and I straight-up want to deck him.
She slaps him on the chest and rolls her eyes, and after what seems an eternity, it’s my turn.
I stand and our eyes clash. Those golden irises send ripples straight through me.
My gaze rakes down her body and chokes when it lands on her left hand.
She’s engaged. Fresh grief coats me, and it’s a struggle to school my features.
Which is ridiculous. Obviously, I relinquished any right—any claim—to her years ago.
Unfortunately, my heart never got the message.
We embrace, and her citrusy scent is like an eclipse, engulfing me like nothing has changed. Only everything has.
“Hey, Jax,” I murmur.
“Mick,” she breathes, and that does something else entirely, rocking me to the core.
We part, and I realize we’re both torn between wanting and hating to let go. So, that’s something.
“You look well,” I say, then blow out a laugh. “Fucking great, actually.”
“Thank you. You—”
She pauses so long, I wonder if she thinks I’ve gone downhill and is trying to find a polite word to say. Do I look like shit?
“…too,” she finally adds.
I swallow and dip my chin toward her ring. “Engaged?”
She nods.
“I’m not surprised.” Of course I’m not. She’s the full package. Only an idiot would lose her. I open my mouth to say as much, then stop myself.
Her eyes scan my left hand. “No one’s stolen your heart yet?”
Thump. Thump thump. Thump thump thump. I stare at her for one molten moment. “I think we both know one woman did.”
“You were stupid to let her get away.”
Slowly, I nod. “Agreed.”
I motion to two chairs, desperate to steer this train a new direction. This current track leads to nowhere. “Tell me about the great things you’re doing in the world. I want to hear it all.”
“I think we all do,” Remy echoes.
It’s not like I don’t know anything about her. I read her articles from Virginia Now. Hell, I subscribed—until her name disappeared from the masthead. I have no idea where she landed next.
She tells us about starting a car restoration magazine with her fiancé’s father, and that piques the attention of all the car guys at the table.
It’s ballsy and admirable, and pride wars with spite as she enthusiastically explains the ins and outs of Hamilton Restorations and the ensuing magazine.
Another subscription is in my future, but I won’t admit that to her.
Her face lights when she talks about Emmy, her soon-to-be stepdaughter.
A warmth spreads through me listening to her talk about the little girl.
I always believed Jax would be a great mom if she allowed herself the opportunity.
Each of us take turns offering updates on our lives: Remy and Sherry, Vinny and Stephanie, Jeremy, Kendra, me.
It evolves into fond reminiscing and sharing Terry stories.
There’s laughter and good-natured teasing and despite how little time I log with the guys anymore, I’m awash with the familiar, the natural, the easiness of it all.
It’s an earnest reminder these individuals are my true family.
Jax…well, she’s the one I’ll forever regret letting slip away. The one who burrowed so deep into my heart it’s never recovered. The one who clearly moved on and found a love that fulfills her, a man that sounds worthy of her. A better man than me.
The crowd thins as the reception nears its end. We stand after two hours of reuniting. Terry’s absence is palpable, but in bringing us together today, I think he’d approve of how we spent our time.
Remy grips me on the shoulder but addresses the core of us, the remaining members of this group who’ve been friends since ten. One that’s now missing a man, a brother, a teammate. “Let’s go see Terry’s parents.”
We nod in unspoken agreement, and it’s time for goodbyes. The lump in my throat grows when Remy hugs Jacqui tightly, emotion swimming in their eyes. It heals a fissure I didn’t realize existed to see them make up after all this time.
I catch part of their conversation.
“I’m grateful I didn’t drag you down with all my bullshit,” Remy says, head cocked in his signature way. “I’m clearly a selfish prick consumed with my own shit. But I really am sorry.”
“I appreciate that,” she answers. “I’ve hated hating you all these years. You were one of my favorite people…and one of the most important in my life.”
Remy’s throat bobs. Mine does too.
“I’m relieved you’re doing well. And about to be a damn father.” Jacqui shakes her head.
“Weird, right?”
“Rem?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t fuck it up, okay?”
He snorts, salutes. But that statement lands hard for me too. After watching Remy struggle for years, it sometimes still seems like it could all fall apart any moment. The stakes only raise when you add kids into the mix, something I hold a strong fucking opinion about.
It’s my turn to say goodbye to Jacqui, and I brace for it. The draw, that tiny heroin hit, has already nestled in my blood, chanting for more, more, more.
But she’s not mine.
This is all I’m getting—and surely the last hit I’ll receive.
I capture her gaze, transfixed, captivated, memorizing her in this iteration. She’s still the most gorgeous woman I’ve known, still has a solid claim on this contraption beating wildly in my chest.
“I’m so proud of you, Jax. For pursuing your dream and embracing a new life far from here. I’ve only ever wanted you to thrive, and seeing you the way you are now brings me a sense of…peace.” It’s not bullshit, and I hope it means something to her.
“I feel it too, about you—and Remy. It’s given me closure, healing, whatever’s been missing. I gave you my heart and it’s been hard to repair it. Really hard. I wasn’t even sure at times that I could.”
My throat knots as I stare at her with utter affection. Oh, baby. Mine’s not repairable. You’re the only fix.
“All I want is for you to find your happiness. You deserve it, and you need to stop fighting it. Let yourself have a good life full of love, Mick.”
I fight a choked, bitter laugh. This woman and her quest for my happiness. Still…after all these years. After all the mistakes I’ve made. After forsaking her. “I won’t make you any promises, but I’ll try. Seeing you gives me hope that maybe that is in the cards after all.”
“You’re too good of a human being not to share your heart with someone.”
I drop my head for a few seconds, then nod. There’s no point debating the merits of what I deserve. I end it on a positive note. “Live large. Kick ass. Keep shining, beautiful.”
We hold each other closely, and I revel in her touch, scent, and the body I’ve gotten lost in, allowing myself to experience it one more time…and let it go.
By the time I make it home, the agonizing heartbreak of the entire day from Terry to Jax hits in full force. And when the walls close in on me, I drive to a bar in town and drink my pathetic self into oblivion.