Chapter 12 Jackson #2
“I love my family. I do. But sometimes they assume shit and it pisses me off.” I don’t tamp down my frustration, and my words come out harsher than I intend. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to project my foul mood on you. I’m being a dick, aren’t I?”
“You aren’t. But I noticed the shift and wanted to make sure it wasn’t something I did. You’re probably getting real sick of me by now.”
Quite the opposite.
“Nah, I’m just being a baby. It’s not even that big of a deal. I’ll get over it.”
“It’s okay to be annoyed by your family.”
“I know. But I feel like a whiny, ungrateful shit when I complain about them. They really mean the world to me, and they’re always there when I need them.”
“Family is complicated.” Rosalie nods.
“That’s for damn sure.”
“So, what did they say to piss you off?”
“It’s just, sometimes I think they all see me as some joke.
Like, my life is some big party because I have no desire to settle down or start a family.
Which isn’t true. And yeah, okay, I haven’t ever had a serious girlfriend.
And sure, maybe sometimes I smoke a little too much weed, or bail on family events for a good time at the bar.
But it doesn’t mean I don’t care about people or have my own struggles. ”
“Not taking any side, but maybe they make those assumptions because that’s the only version of you they know?”
“What do you mean?”
“We all decide how we want the world to see us. How much we choose to let people in.”
“Yeah.” I nod because she’s right. “I guess I don’t know how to break the habit. I’ve let them assume things about me for so long, it’s second nature.”
“I understand that.”
I narrow my gaze, needing to lighten the conversation.
“You know what I can’t picture?”
“What’s that?”
“You, smoking a joint.”
She laughs. “Yeah, well, that’s because I never have.”
“Never?” I gasp, exaggerating my shock. “How is that even possible?”
“Do you know me at all?” She narrows her stare.
“Come on. It’s been legal for years. Besides, you had a life before you were a mom and the hottest librarian this town’s ever known.”
“I doubt most people would describe me as ‘hot.’” She rolls her eyes.
“Then they need their vision checked. Seriously, if you were slinging books when I was a teen, I’d have spent every day after school following you around.”
She frowns.
“Too much?”
“Let’s just say the teacher-student trope is not my favorite. Too predatory.”
“Then I’m glad we didn’t meet until I was grown.”
She narrows her gaze, but her lips tip up with the hint of a smile. “I’m not that much older than you.”
It’s rude, so I won’t ask, but I am curious how old she is. I’d guess she’s somewhere in her thirties.
“I know this is difficult to believe, but I was a bit of a rule follower growing up.”
“You don’t say.” I can’t help but grin.
“I don’t talk about my life before Wilder Valley.” Her gaze sobers.
I know that’s true because Maeve has made a few comments over the years.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s okay. I mean, I’ve already given you a few secrets. What’s a few more?”
My chest fills with pride, knowing she trusts me enough to share.
“I promise, whatever it is, won’t be worse than the theories the town’s gossip mill came up with.”
“There are theories about me?” Her brows lift.
“This is Wilder Valley. There are rumors about everyone.”
She leans forward. “Now, I kinda want to know.”
“How about I tell you in exchange for the truth?”
Her lips pinch together.
“Or as much of the truth as you feel comfortable sharing.” When she doesn’t immediately agree, I point to the center of my chest and draw an X with my finger. “It’ll go in the vault.”
“Okay, fine. But these rumors better be good.”
“They’re ridiculous.” I think of the most far-fetched. “Did you know Edward’s father is a vampire, and y’all are descendants of the Cullens?”
Rosalie’s shoulders relax and she grins. “I binged the Twilight series when I was pregnant. I’m very obviously team Edward.”
“So, there is some truth to the Twilight rumor!” I chuckle.
“Sadly, no vampires.”
“Boring,” I tease. “Another tall tale . . . You and Edward are asylum seekers who’ve assumed aliases because his father was a mob boss for a cartel and died in a plane crash.”
She huffs out a breath. “I wish.”
My brows rise. So, Edward’s father is alive.
“Sorry, it would be easier if Edward’s father were out of the picture. It sounds bad when I say that, I know. You can judge me if you want.”
“No, but I am judging whoever came up with that crazy tale.”
“Right? The cartel?”
“That’s how they explain your house. And your nanny.
” Rosalie lives in an upscale development of custom homes.
That, and she has a full-time nanny. That might be common in some places, but not here.
Way out of budget for our town’s librarian pay scale.
“Whoever came up with that theory watched too many episodes of Ozark.”
She winces. “Is that really the best this town can do?”
“Well, most people think you are hiding out, but that’s because they guess you left an abusive relationship.”
Her face sobers.
Shit. Is that the truth?
The thought of anyone hitting Rosalie or Edward makes my blood boil.
“Where does he live? I’ll take him out.”
“Jackson.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re not taking anyone out.”
“Fine.” I’m not a violent man. But I’d commit murder if anyone hurt her. “At least rough him up.”
“Edward’s father is an asshole, but he’s never hurt us. At least, not physically.”
“Emotional abuse doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“He’s not a problem. He’s pretty much out of the picture. He does bankroll most of our living expenses in exchange for—well, honestly, it’s no one’s business. He lets us live our lives, and that’s all that matters.”
“Rosalie, I’m not judging you. You’re a great mom.”
“I’m doing my best, which is far from great.”
“Please. That boy is a good kid. He’s quiet, but I’ve seen him with my nieces and nephews. He’s got a kind heart and he’s whip smart. I reckon that’s about all you need to get through life. And that doesn’t happen by accident. You’re raisin’ him right.”
“He’s the best thing I’ve ever done with my life. Even if I worry I’m getting it all wrong.”
“You aren’t.”
“What if I am?” Her eyes implore as they meet mine.
“Everyone fucks up sometimes.”
“I learned very early in life that I don’t have the luxury of fucking up.”
“You’re really hard on yourself.”
“Maybe.” She shrugs with a sigh. “I wish I could infuse some of your easy-going nature into my brain.”
“Maybe you can.”
She scoffs, but there’s a hint of a smile teasing her lips. “And how would I do that?”
An idea percolates, and while I’m not sure she’ll go for it, the worst she can say is no. “What time does Edward call to say good night?”
“Between seven and eight.” Her gaze is skeptical. “Why?”
“I have an after-dinner activity for us.” My lips spread into a wide smile. “And it goes perfectly with pie.”