by Keren Hughes
“Hey, don’t look at me. Caleigh asked, and I answered. Would have been rude to leave the lady hanging,” Evan says with his hands in the air.
“Daddy, what’s a jerk?”
Suddenly all our heads whip around to find Jessa with a puzzled look on her face. Shit! That’s all my fault.
“It’s a bad word that Uncle Brent shouldn’t have said,” Jules says, giving me a murderous look.
“I’m so sorry, Jessa. I shouldn’t have said a cuss word. Don’t you ever say it, okay?”
“Okay, Uncle Bwent.”
She’s so damn cute when she talks. She’s so clever, smarter than her daddy, so she must get it all from Jules.
“I’m sorry, Jules, Ev. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I’ve said worse, trust me,” Ev replies.
“You have and you shouldn’t. Think before you open your mouth in future,” Jules says, giving him a stern look.
“Sorry, Jules.”
At least he has the grace to look contrite.
“So, that wardrobe story was quite tame. I’m imagining he’s done worse,” Caleigh says, cutting the tension.
“Oh, he has. Plenty worse. But not a conversation for around little ears,” Ev says with a chuckle.
“I could tell you some stories about Evan,” I chime in. “But I can tell you all about that when they’ve gone home, so he can’t kill me for it.”
“I bet you boys got up to no good pretty often, huh?”
“When we were younger, we could get away with a lot more. But trust me, we were never rock stars who threw TVs out of windows or whatever.”
“That’s too cliché for you, huh?” she asks with a wry smile.
“Very. We try to avoid stereotypes. Plus, we were country stars, not rock.”
“Oh, and that makes all the difference does it?”
“It sure does,” I reply with a wink.
“Well, you can tell me all about it another day. For now,” she says, looking at her watch, “it’s time I got Hardin home for bed.”
“I’ll walk you home,” I blurt without thinking.
I wait as she seems to think it over, rather than giving me a straight no.
“Okay. That would be nice.”
Hardin doesn’t want to leave Jessa, but Caleigh says that she’s sure he’ll see her again soon.
“Don’t forget what I said about peppermint tea, raw ginger or acidophilus tablets, Jules,” Caleigh says as she grabs their coats.
“I think ginger might make me feel sicker as I really don’t enjoy the taste.”
“Trust me, the peppermint tea tastes awful too. Put one sweetener or one spoonful of sugar in it and it tastes better. Honestly, it helps with the morning sickness.”
“Thanks, Caleigh. And once again, I’m sorry about Hardin.”
“Hey, he could just as easily have bumped into someone else or just slid into the shelf. Seriously, it’s not on you. Don’t worry about him; he’ll be fine.”
“I just feel so bad.”
“Well, don’t. Just put it to the back of your mind.”
Julia gets up and hugs Caleigh, and as they stand there holding each other, I think about what kind of friendship they could have if we did this more often. If she and I were together, they could become very good friends, very easily. The two of them have this natural ease around each other. It’s nice to see because they both mean a lot to me.
As we walk out of the door, Hardin takes Caleigh’s hand and then mine. It surprises me a little, but I don’t want to let go and make him think I don’t like him, because I do. Caleigh doesn’t say anything about it, so I just let go of my worries and hold his hand as he skips down the street.
I look at the house she’s renting. It’s bigger than her place back in River’s Edge, and it has character, just like her. I can imagine her living somewhere like this, but I would prefer to imagine her living in my house, with me.
“Thank you for walking us home, and thank you for allowing us the pleasure of your company tonight. I really enjoyed it. I’ll pick my car up on my way to work after dropping Hardin at school, if that’s okay?”
She’d been worried about having a glass or two of wine with her meal, but I said her car would be safe outside my place until morning.
“Can you give this to Luna, please, Brent?” Hardin asks as he fishes something out of his pocket.
“Sure thing, buddy. What have you got there?”
“Just something we were playing with and she liked it.”
He hands me a toy car and smiles a big toothy grin.
“Aw, that’s a nice one, buddy. You sure you don’t want to keep it?”
“Nah, I have lots of them and Jessa said she didn’t have any cars.”
“Well, I’m sure she’ll really appreciate it, little man. It’s a very kind gesture.”
I ruffle his hair, and he looks at me with a cheesy grin.
“I like Jessa. She’s fun to play with.”
“She sure is.”
I can’t help but smile as Caleigh unlocks the door and tells Hardin to go and brush his teeth. He says goodbye and crushes me in a hug before doing as he’s told.
“They’d make a cute couple,” I say with a smirk.
“Don’t go marrying them off just yet, mister.”
“Oh, I won’t. But they are awful cute together.”
“Jessa’s a sweet kid. Gets it from her mum, by the sounds of things. They’re nice, your friends.”
“They are. They’re the grown-ups. Asher and Jude are a pair of teenagers trapped in men’s bodies. But they’re cool all the same.”
“I bet they’d have a few more stories to tell about you.”
“Oh, they would, and they wouldn’t be pretty ones.”
“I’ll have to ask them then.”
“Don’t worry, ragging on me is one of their favourite pastimes, so you ask, and they’ll provide all the gory details.”
She smiles at me, and unlike recently, it’s a genuine smile that lights her eyes.
“Well, I won’t keep you any longer. You have a good night now,” I say as I walk a couple of steps backwards.
I don’t want to push my luck with her, not when she’s actually starting to come around to being in the same room as me. Baby steps.
Caleigh steps up to me and ghosts a kiss across my lips. I feel a tingling sensation from her soft lips against mine.
All too soon, she pulls away from me. She offers me a small smile and walks a couple of steps back towards her door.
“Goodnight, Brent.”
“Goodnight, Caleigh. Sleep well.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Caleigh
I don’t know what made me kiss him goodnight. Maybe it was because I felt giddy being in such close proximity to him. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was just the fact that I’m learning to accept that I do still love him.
After everything, my heart still beats faster when he’s near. I know that I can be a strong, independent woman. But I also know that it doesn’t make me less independent if I love somebody. I’ve said it before, but I really mean it this time. Being in a relationship doesn’t make you co-dependent for everything. It means a lot more than that. It means loving someone and being loved by them. It doesn’t mean giving up on everything you had before them, it just means letting them into your life, opening up to them and being together against all odds.
When I think about what happened with Brent, the lies he told … he had no choice but to tell them. He wasn’t doing it because he wanted to lie to me, he was doing it to keep his cover. Do I wish he’d told me and trusted me to keep his secret? Of course, I do. But he didn’t, and what’s done is done. There’s nothing he or I can do to go back and change it. But we can move forward. The question is, can we move on together? Does he still love me the way I love him? I guess there’s only one way to find out.
Hanging out with Brent and his friends last night was fun. I don’t know many people around here except for Rhianno
n and my clients, so I don’t get to hang out like that often.
I know I feared the worst with Julia when I first met her, but I should have trusted that Brent really meant it when he said he loved me, and that he wouldn’t have moved on so quickly.
I look at the flowers he bought me, still in the vase, even though most of them are dead. I just can’t bring myself to throw them away when one of them is still vibrant and full of life. He said he’d love me until the last petal fell, so why did I let my head mislead me into thinking the worst about him and Julia?
Picking up the card that came with the flowers, I read it over and over, even though I have it committed to memory.
The sheer vibrancy of the last flower left alive piques my interest. Why is that one so full of life when the others are all but dead? Plucking it from the vase, I feel an artificial stem. I trace a finger along the petals and realise that it’s not real, that’s why it looks different to the others.
The penny drops. He’ll love me until the last petal falls, but the last petal will never fall, because the flower isn’t even alive. He’ll always love me. My god, I feel so stupid.
I pick up my phone and send Rhiannon a text as I place the flower on the worktop and finish getting ready to take Hardin to school.
“I’m ready, Mummy,” he says as he walks into the kitchen with his buttons done up incorrectly.
“Come here, baby, it looks like you missed a hole.”
I button up his shirt and help him do his tie. Since when do primary school children even need to wear ties? I know I didn’t when I was his age. It’s not like a five-year-old can tie one.
My phone chimes and I read Rhiannon’s reply. She thinks it’s cute that he did that with the flowers. I guess I’d be inclined to agree. Seems Brent’s a sweetheart after all. He might have been Britain’s sweetheart of country before, but now I selfishly don’t want to share him. I want to make him mine and mine alone. But how do I tell him that now?
Another text comes through from Rhiannon.
>Hey, how do you fancy a girl’s night out tonight? Lew will watch the kids.
>Where you thinking of going?
>There’s an open mic night in town at Busby’s.
>Oh man, really? You know the way to a girl’s heart. I reply sarcastically.
>Pretty please? I’ll even buy the first round.
>Ugh. Make it two rounds and you’re on.
>Deal. Want to meet at mine to get ready?
>Sure. Around 6?
>Sounds good. Catch you later, alligator.
I smile to myself, regardless of not really fancying going to hear people sing. It’s going to be a long night.
I drop Hardin off at school and walk back to Brent’s to fetch my car. I should go up and knock to tell him I’m taking it, but it’s so early in the morning and I don’t want to wake him.
“Morning, gorgeous,” a voice calls, making me look up.
I swear I’m almost drooling at the sight of Brent in nothing but a pair of faded blue jeans. His taut, muscular torso is on show and it looks like he’s either been in the shower or working out, as his skin looks slick with something wet.
“Good morning, Brent.”
He waves and offers me the most gorgeous smile.
“Got time for a coffee?”
Looking at my watch, I see I have about another hour before my first class of the day.
“Sure.”
I walk up the path and he stands aside to let me in.
“Good morning, Caleigh,” Julia says as she notices me.
“Hey, Julia. Hi, Jessa,” I say softly as she toddles over to me and puts her arms in the air. I pick her up and sit her on my hip. She twirls my hair around her fingers, and I sigh happily. It reminds me so much of when Hardin was younger.
“Have you eaten?” Brent asks as he comes up behind me.
He’s almost close enough to be touching me; I can feel an air of electricity around us.
“Umm, no. I was going to grab a bagel or something before work.”
“Sit. I’ll bring you some blueberry pancakes.”
“This from the man who can’t cook? I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be until you try them,” he replies with a chuckle.
“Come, sit down,” Julia says as she moves some toys from the couch.
“Bwent gived me a car fwom Hardin,” Jessa says as I put her down.
“I know. Hardin said you didn’t have any cars and you really liked it. So he wanted you to have it.”
“Can you tell him fank you pwease?”
My heart melts a little at the way she talks. She’s so goddam sweet.
“Of course I will, sweetie.”
Brent brings me pancakes and I tuck in. The smell alone is delicious and makes my stomach rumble.
“Something smells good,” Evan says as he enters the living room.
“It’s these pancakes; they’re delicious,” I reply as I swallow a bite.
“Where’s mine?”
“In the kitchen. Haven’t made them yet because you were in the shower,” Brent replies as he walks away towards the kitchen.
Evan sits down on the floor, playing with Jessa, until Brent brings him his breakfast.
We sit around and talk about everything and nothing until it’s time for me to go to work. It’s been nice getting to know Brent’s friends better. I could see Julia being a good friend in time.
***
It’s been a heck of a day. Ali brought a group of people along for the afternoon session. It was fun, but man, I am exhausted now. Almost too exhausted to go out with Rhiannon, but I won’t back out now. I could use a piña colada or something expensive, as it’s her round. Whatever it is, I need to unwind.
I pull clothes out of my wardrobe but can’t decide what to wear. Busby’s isn’t anything fancy, but every girl needs an excuse to dress up and look nice.
Finally, I settle on my favourite oversized purple cashmere jumper and a pair of black skinny jeans that Brent once said looked painted on. He said they make my ass look great. I pull out my black Louboutins and my favourite pair of Iron Fist shoes which are purple with black skulls on, trying to decide which would look better. The Louboutins are hot as hell, but the others match the colour of my jumper.
Decision made, I grab the Iron Fist heels and pack them in my bag to get ready at Rhiannon’s. Grabbing my makeup bag, I pack that too before heading into Hardin’s room to see if he’s ready to go.
He has his favourite Mickey Mouse plush in his hands and is dressed in the jeans and t-shirt I laid out for him. He looks so cute just sitting there on his bed.
“You ready to go and stay at Auntie Rhi’s house?”
“Yes, Mummy. I’m dressed, see,” he says as he points at his George of The Jungle t-shirt and blue jeans.
“Good boy. Now, you’ve got some clothes in this bag,” I say as I hold it out, “and you have your Mickey to sleep with. Do you want to take anything else?”
“No, Mummy. As long as I have Mickey.”
We head downstairs and I call a taxi, knowing I won’t be able to drink if I drive.
Hardin sits in the window until he sees the taxi pull up. He jumps down and grabs his coat before rushing to the door.
***
“I’m telling you; you look hot as. You need to stop messing with your hair, else it’ll come loose.”
I stop fidgeting with my hair, like a child scorned. Rhiannon decided to style my hair in a fishtail braid over my left shoulder, and she took my makeup and gave me smoky eyes. What can I say? She does it better than I do. I normally only apply minimal makeup in nude tones. But Rhi said that for one night, I should try something new.
“Do we really have to go to Busby’s? Can’t we go elsewhere like a cocktail bar or something?”
“Nope,” she says, popping the P.
“Damn, you’re so bossy, Rhi.”
“You should know better than to argue with me,” she says with a wink as she finishes curlin
g her hair.
“Yes, Mum,” I quip as I poke my tongue out at her.
We finish getting ready, then we head downstairs and see the kids in their pyjamas. Hardin looks up at me with a big toothy grin.
“You look so pretty, Mummy.”
“Why, thank you, darling. Now, you’ll be a good boy and go to bed when Uncle Lewis says so, won’t you?”
“I promise, Mummy.”
“Good boy. I love you lots like jelly tots,” I say as I crouch down and pull him in for a hug. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
“Okay.”
He gives me a kiss and then wipes his lips in case he got lipstick on them. I can’t help but laugh when he sees the smear of red on his hand.
Our taxi arrives and the kids come to the door to wave us off.
“I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait for that first drink,” Rhi sighs as she sits back in the taxi.
“I already can’t wait until we leave.”
“You’re such a buzzkill, girl. You need to let your hair down and have fun. Not literally, because that braid took me ages.”
As we pull up outside Busby’s, Rhiannon claps her hands together and lets out a little squeal. I swear to god, she’s like a hyperactive kid sometimes. How she can be so excited for an open mic night, lord only knows.
“I’ll have a porn star martini and, what are you having, babe?” she asks as she looks over her shoulder at me.
“Umm, I’ll take a New York sour, please.”
I survey the room. It’s not packed yet, but it will be by about nine o’clock.
“Sorry, I’m not familiar with that one,” the bartender says.
“It’s bourbon, red wine, lemon juice and syrup.”
“Coming right up.”
When he’s fixed our drinks, we take them and slip into a booth. It’s a wonder that any of them are free, being the most comfortable seats in the place, but you won’t find me complaining.
A few singers get up and do their thing, and I find it’s not as bad as karaoke back at The Lock. Back then, we had some good singers and some that sang more than a little off-key. But here they have all been pretty good so far. They have the crowd warmed up too.