I let out a dry laugh. “Funny.”
For whatever reason, an image of Jason from last night popped into my head—his thick black hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and kissable lips. The urge to check my Facebook again and see if he’d said anything to me via private message or if he’d changed his status update in the last forty minutes or so blasted through me. Damn him. It was high school all over again, only this time he’d sent me a friend request and I’d accepted.
“So, how’s the sewing business going?” I asked. It was a plotted change of subject, but one I knew she would fall for.
Bonnie was a sewing extraordinaire. For the last year and a half she’d been crafting new ideas for things to sew up and sell. She’d sold a few odds and ends to people around town, but about eight months ago I’d talked her into creating an online platform and going from there. She’d set up her own shop on Etsy and created a blogger website for her stuff as well. She started selling things like hotcakes—chic potholders, aprons, throw pillowcases, even tote bags with pockets for markers or crayons built in. Everyone had been on board with her decision to pursue her handcrafted career choice; I even passed out her business cards at work, but then her sales slowed and the applause stopped from some people—mainly her husband.
“It’s going.” Bonnie shrugged. She placed the large bowl she’d been rinsing into the dish drainer.
I scrunched my nose. “Is Brice being supportive?”
Bonnie tensed. “He’s… Well, he’s Brice about it all.”
“Which means?”
“When it’s making money it’s a real job, but when it’s not he acts like it’s a hobby.”
Rolling my eyes, I sighed loudly. Brice could be such a damn jerk sometimes, and especially to my sister. Why she put up with him half the time I had no clue. She was beautiful, anyone would agree with that, and yet she’d picked the one person in Coldcreek who didn’t see her for what she was worth.
“And do you tell him that’s not the case?” I asked.
“Every day,” she said. “He just doesn’t get it and he never will. It’s like a vicious cycle with us. I tell him sales are slow and he tells me to get a real job then, because we need the money. I say we can’t afford to put Tinley in daycare and he says well, what do you want me to do then. It’s always the same.”
I hated how broken and defeated she sounded. It tore at the edges of my heart and made me wish there was something I could do to help out her situation more, some magic button I could push that would instantly make a million people rush to her site and buy every damn thing she had available and then some. Unfortunately, my dream of doing just that was impossible. So, I settled for making my sister smile instead.
“And you wonder why I’m not dating anyone,” I said with a slight chuckle.
Bonnie burst out into a fit of laughter. I joined in, but part of me wondered if she was laughing because it was either that or cry about her current situation, and it made my laughing feel fake.
“Maybe you have it right and I don’t, little sis,” she said.
Finishing the last of my frappuccino, I smiled at her and nodded. “Maybe.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
JASON
I woke to the smell of coffee stinging my nose. It wasn’t just any regular old coffee; it was I-need-to-get-my-ass-moving-now coffee. The type I usually drank when I had a killer hangover and still had shit to do. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I rolled onto my stomach and buried my face in my pillow. After a few minutes, I flipped back over and reached for my cell on the nightstand, where I’d last left it. I checked my email and then my Facebook, completing my daily wake-up ritual. Technology was addictive that way.
“Blaire Hayes accepted your Friend Request” was the first thing I saw.
An ear-to-ear grin broke out on my face. Normally something so simple wouldn’t have fazed me; today it did though. I stared at her little picture for way too long before finally setting my phone down and forcing my ass out of bed. Scooping up some sweats from the floor, I pulled them on and then made my way down the hall to the bathroom.
“Morning,” Mom muttered once I entered the kitchen after relieving my swollen bladder.
“Morning.” I glared at her. She looked like shit. Normally my mother was a gorgeous woman, but with her current hangover from hell that was definitely not the case this morning. She was still dressed in the clothes from last night, her hair frizzy and pulled over one shoulder.
“What time did you get in last night?” she asked. The large mug she held between her hands appeared too bulky for her delicate frame.
I went to the cabinet and grabbed the first mug I saw. “Around one, I guess.”
“Did you have fun?” she asked. She was trying desperately to hold a conversation, to not reveal how trashed she’d gotten all by herself last night.
“It was all right.” I shrugged a shoulder. “I ran into some people from high school, caught up a bit, and had a few drinks. That’s about it.”
She tapped the ring she still wore on her left hand against the mug she held. I frowned as I poured myself some coffee. It had been three years. Even though I’d loved Dad as much has she did, I knew she should have moved on a while ago. This house was supposed to be a way to do that, but it hadn’t worked.
Nothing had. Not for her.
“What did you do last night?” I asked, even though the clues to that had rested on the counter last night when I’d walked through the door.
Glancing around, I realized everything had been removed. There was no longer a burnt Stouffers lasagna on the stove or an empty bottle of her favorite red wine on the counter. The only remnants of her night were reflected in her features.
“Nothing,” she said. “Watched a little TV, attempted to cook a lasagna, and that’s about it.”
She didn’t mention the wine. I hadn’t thought she would.
“Are you leaving today?” she asked. She took a small sip of her coffee and winced. That couldn’t be a good sign, the coffee must be bitter as shit.
Stirring in a little more creamer and sugar, I set the spoon I’d been using on the counter and turned to face her. “Yeah, I figured I’d head back a little later this afternoon. I need to cram some more for finals tomorrow.” I took a sip of my coffee and nearly sprayed it all over the floor of the kitchen. That shit was strong! “Is there anything more you need me to do at Gramps’ place before I leave? I’ve boxed everything up already.”
“No, it can all wait,” she said without meeting my eyes. “I planned on having an appraiser come look at it next week—I think they’re supposed to come on Wednesday and the inspector is on Friday. They can both walk around a few boxes.”
Appraiser; it was still so strange to me that we were selling my grandparents’ house. I had so many childhood memories in that place—probably just as many as were made in our old house. Soon it would be gone. Some schmuck would come along and buy it up without realizing everything that had happened between the walls—all the pies eaten, summer days spent, and awesome holiday dinners shared. They’d walk out on the dock and not realize that was the place my Gramps had taught me to fish.
Why was life so ever-changing?
“Sounds good,” I said. “Let me know if they have any suggested repairs or whatnot, I’ll start fixing them when I get back.”
“When you get back?” she asked. “What do you mean when you get back?”
“I figured I’d come back for however long it takes to get things up to par there. When we sold the other house, I know there was a lengthy list you had to deal with. I’m sure this place won’t be any different and you could use all the money we can get out of it to take care of Gramps in that home,” I said.
Guilt didn’t even begin to cover all the emotions I felt when I thought back to how I’d dipped out after Dad died, leaving her to deal with the move and everything that went with it all alone. I was eighteen and fresh out of high school; there were only so many things I could handle at the time.
Dealing with packing up my dead father’s belongings was not one of them. At least that’s what I told myself, what helped me sleep at night and what I’d made myself believe—that I wasn’t stable enough, mature enough, to handle such things at the time.
I’d used a similar excuse when Gran was bedridden and sick last year, but I’d also added in that I had a full load with school and a part-time job. The true reason was, I hadn’t been able to deal with the first death that had swept through my life like a tornado, ripping and shredding at everything that ever was; there was no way I was ready to go through that twice in such a sort amount of time. This time though, I wasn’t about to let Mom go through it all on her own. The phone call I’d gotten from her about two weeks ago had nearly killed me. It was my reason for being here, for stepping up like I should have both times before. She deserved it.
I hadn’t known Gramps was having such a hard time with the loss of my grandmother. They’d been together for nearly forty-five years—I was stupid to not think there would have been an unfathomable bond between the two. It was so strong, in fact, he’d literally given up, and I was positive over the next few months he would be the first person I’d ever meet to die of a broken heart.
Mom didn’t deserve to deal with any more death on her own. Having her husband die, and then her own mother two years later, and now her father almost a year later—that was something no one would wish on their worst enemy. It was time I stepped up and was there for her. It was time I stopped being a little bitch about the whole thing and acted like a man. My mom needed me—I was all she had left.
“I hired people for that then and I’ll hire them now, if that happens to be the case. This is not your problem, Jason, you need to focus on school,” she snapped.
“School’s over in a week, Mom,” I said. “I’m helping. You don’t need to hire anyone. I can do it.”
“What about your job? What about your apartment? Jason, the list they could hand me might be lengthy and I can’t allow you to travel back and forth for this. I can’t afford to foot the bill for your gas and I know you can’t either,” she insisted.
“Mom, I’ll be fine.” I smiled. “I’ve already thought this through. Brian can get a new roommate if I think I’m gonna be here for too long. They aren’t going to miss me at the golf course for crying out loud; that’s such an easy-fill job it’s ridiculous, and if need be, I can always enroll at Norhurst in the fall.” I shrugged.
Her eyes grew wide. “You’ve really thought this through then?”
I nodded. “I have. We’ll have to see how things go, but I do have a backup plan, should I need one. Don’t worry so much, Mom. I’m here for you.”
My heart sank to my toes at the sight of tears filling her eyes. Had I really been hurting her that much being away? By not being here to help her with this all? Or maybe it was just the simple fact that me being here made her feel less alone.
God, I’d been a shitty son. It was time I made it up to her.
If she told me right now to move back home and help her out, I’d do it in a heartbeat. It was never my mom I was running from, it was the memories and the pity in the faces of those around town who knew all too well the type of torment my mother and I had gone through with my dad’s death.
Mom took another sip of her coffee, her bright green eyes locked with mine. The tears were there, glistening in the florescent light of the kitchen, but I knew she wouldn’t let them fall.
“I’ll try not to,” she whispered with a smile.
“Good.” Setting my coffee on the counter, I headed back to my room for some clothes. I needed a shower. “Now go get some sleep… You look horrible.” I heard a gasp escape her. She’d honestly believed I’d been too messed up last night to notice the empty bottle on the counter and the glass on the coffee table.
“Thanks for sugarcoating it, sweetheart,” she called after me.
I smirked to myself and shook my head. God, I loved my mom.
CHAPTER NINE
BLAIRE
Bonnie’s office/business central was organized so expertly it made me want to run home and redo everything in my room, implementing what she had going on here. Solid wooden bookshelves stood at attention on either side of her matching desk, crammed with a rainbow of spools of thread and Mason jars filled to the rim with buttons of every shape and color. There were two crates filled with rolls of ribbon on the bottom shelves and numerous craft books lining the top shelves.
The closet to the room was neatly organized as well—broken-down cardboard boxes for shipping sat in one area, aprons she’d created hung on hangers, pillowcases were folded and pressed into perfect squares waiting to be sold. A clear three-drawer storage case was pressed against the wall; inside were scissors, tape, and loads of miscellaneous odds and ends tucked away. I loved this room.
“You’ve redone everything.” My eyes traveled around the room once more. “It looks great.”
“Thanks, I thought it was time,” she said. “One of the first things you have to learn when running your own business is that organization is key. I’m constantly improving my space and process to make things easier. With Tinley getting older and more demanding of my time, Brice being a prick about whether it’s an actual business or just a hobby, and my nerves being frazzled from taking on so much at once…organizing things makes it that much easier to get what I need to get done without wondering where I’ve placed something or if I have something that’s been ordered in stock.”
“Makes sense to me,” I said.
Tinley bounded into the room, carrying the picture she’d been working on.
“Aunt B, it’s done,” she said.
She called me Aunt B because when she was little, she hadn’t been able to say Blaire. Eventually she’d given up and shortened my name to one letter—B. It had stuck and I loved it.
“Oh, it’s beautiful!” I took it from her little fingers. “I have just the place for this at home. I’ll put it on my fridge.”
Tinley grinned and ran out of the room. The sounds of a new show coming on the TV echoed down the hall, Tinley’s little voice singing along mixed in.
“So, how much did this cost you?” I asked. “Did Brice shit a brick?”
Bonnie’s face scrunched up. “What do you think?”
“He did,” I said flatly. My distaste for him leaked through my words.
“He wasn’t happy about it, but he wasn’t pissed or anything either,” she said. “I mean, he’s just worried about us not being able to pay the bills and stuff. Which is just standard, married couple arguments.”
She was backtracking. Bonnie hated it when me or our Mom started in on Brice. It wasn’t that Brice was horrible to her; it was the simple fact that Mom and I both agreed he didn’t see what she was worth. Bonnie was a diamond in that guy’s bucket of coal and he needed to realize that more. Not many women would put up with his shit… I wouldn’t.
“If you say so,” I said. Leaving it at that was what needed to happen, otherwise we’d start arguing and I wouldn’t get my time with Tinley and she wouldn’t get her break.
“How’s school going?” she asked. She flipped off the office light and started back toward the living room, where we could hear Tinley talking to the interactive TV show she’d been watching. “Are you ready for your finals next week?”
This was Bonnie’s way of changing the subject. She wasn’t as smooth as she thought, but I let it happen.
“Yes and no,” I answered. “I’m nervous, but I don’t think it’s possible to study any more than I already have.”
Bonnie moved to sit on the recliner and I flopped down beside Tin on the couch. Reaching out, I stroked her silky strands.
“What are you planning on doing for the summer?” Bonnie asked.
I had a feeling I already knew where this was going.
“Working at Cross Meadows five days a week, why?”
“Because your favorite little niece would love to spend a few days with you over the summer,
I’m sure.”
“Like when? Are you and Brice going on a romantic vacation?” My jaw slacked—they never did anything.
She waved me off and rolled her eyes. “Yeah right, like Mr. Tightwad would allow that. No, I just mean maybe a day a week or a day every two weeks, so I can focus and get some stuff done without interruptions.”
Tinley rubbed her little hand against my knee as though she were letting me know she enjoyed me playing with her hair. “I’ll think about it and see what I can do.”
“Please, I’ll pay you,” Bonnie said.
“You don’t have to pay me. I’ll watch her for free. I just have to check my schedule at work and stuff first.”
“Thank you,” she said. “So, where are the two of you going today?”
That was my cue to leave so she could work. “The park.”
* * * *
Coldcreek Park was something that had evolved over the last few years. It started out as a jungle gym, four swings, and one monkey bar next to an overgrown walkway no one ever used. A few years ago our town elected a new mayor and he’d been all about physical fitness—which was how Coldcreek Park morphed into what it was now, a kid’s paradise. With six swings, five different slides of various sizes, a bridge, a fire pole, monkey bars, and a water feature—Coldcreek Park was the best. They’d even mowed the walkway and planted flowers and shrubs along it, which encouraged more people to put it to use.
Pulling into the gravel parking lot, I glanced into my rearview mirror just in time to see Tinley’s face light up at the sight of kids running through the sprinklers. Bonnie had dressed her in a little red-and-white polka-dot one-piece bathing suit that had a ruffle around its waist. It was the cutest thing.
Loading my arms with the bag Bonnie had packed that was jammed with what looked like the entire house minus the sink, and the lunch I’d gotten us on the way, I crawled out of my car. Setting the drink tray on the top, I opened Tinley’s door and let her out.
“Tin, we’re gonna eat first. Remember?” I asked.
She bolted past me and stopped on the squishy used-tire mulch they’d laid down. Struggling with everything in my arms, I made my way over to her. She dashed from where she stood to the covered pavilion near the water feature. It was like this every time. I’d make it to where she was standing and then she’d dash away to the next area she knew I would go to. She had the park mapped out like that.
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