Simple Perfection

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Simple Perfection Page 16

by Abbi Glines


  “I did. Before all this. I did. I thought we were ready. But now she’s changed. She’s acting like . . . she’s acting like she did before. When all I wanted to do was fuck her because she was so damn good at it. I was addicted to sex with her. Then she stood up to me and drew a line in the sand and I came barreling through it because I realized, through all that sex, that I had started to care for her. I wanted more than just the sex.”

  Everyone knew this story already. No one had expected it. Jace was a trust fund baby and Bethy was a trailer park baby. The two didn’t seem to fit . . . until they did. “She could be drawing the line in the sand again. Forcing you to pick her.”

  Jace walked over and sat down on a padded bench and dropped his head into his hands. “If I thought that was it I would just propose. I would just ask her to marry me. Because, yeah, I love her. But I think she’s hiding something. I don’t know what. I try to overlook it but there are times—and they’re rare—when she withdraws from me. I can’t pinpoint when it happens. I can’t figure out a reason—she just does. Then suddenly she’s back the next day or a few days later, however long it takes, and she’s my Bethy again. I just . . . she has to tell me everything. She has to explain to me what haunts her and why the hell she thinks going to a honky-tonk dressed like a cowboy’s wet dream is okay. I’m tired of getting into fights with dudes bigger than me.”

  Della never did any of these things. I couldn’t sympathize and now I was pretty damn sure he shouldn’t propose because they had shit to figure out.

  “You two need to talk,” I said. I had no other words of wisdom.

  Jace ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “I know we do. Every time I try and ask her about it, she starts drinking. The next thing I know, she’s dancing on a bar somewhere. When she starts to sober up she tells me she wishes she was enough for me and that she wishes she was someone I could love forever. I tell her she is but she needs to tell me why she’s doing this. Why she pulls away from me sometimes. She either starts crying or sucking my damn dick. Both get me completely distracted.”

  I had thought Jace and Bethy were fine. They were good. They were always together. I hadn’t imagined any problems with the two of them. Bethy was always so happy and bubbly. The Bethy he was describing wasn’t someone I’d ever seen.

  “I love her. I’m gonna do whatever the hell I need to to stop this. Because I can’t lose her. I love her. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. All relationships before her pale in comparison. If she wants to get married, I’ll propose. I wanted to wait but I don’t think she’ll ever tell me why she pulls away sometimes. Maybe if we’re married she won’t do that. If I put a ring on her finger then it will stop this drunken partying shit she’s doing.”

  The only thing he’d said there that even came close to a reason as to why he should marry Bethy was the part where he said he loved her and she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. The other stuff wasn’t good logic. “I think you need to get her to talk to you sober first. Lock her in a room and make her talk. Don’t just propose because she’s forcing your hand with this drinking shit. That isn’t what marriage is supposed to be about. You gotta want this, man.”

  Jace glanced back at the door to my house. “What about Della? Do you want it with Della?”

  Yeah, I wanted forever with her. “One day, but she isn’t pressuring me. When the time is right.”

  Jace nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. But Bethy seems threatened by that idea.” He stood up. “Thanks for listening. I needed to unload on someone. I couldn’t go back to the condo and deal with Bethy after tonight. I just needed to talk.”

  “You’re my best friend. I’m always here to talk when you need to. Besides, you kept me from losing it when Della left me.”

  Jace chuckled. “More like Rush did. I was scared to touch you. You were going apeshit.”

  “Rush was the only one strong enough to hold me back. But you listened to me and kept me sane while she was gone.”

  Jace nodded. “You’re my family.”

  And he was mine.

  Della

  “Hush, little baby, don’t say a word, Momma’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.” Momma’s voice rang out shrill and off-key as I stood outside her bedroom door and peeked inside. She was in a rocking chair in her room with the baby doll I wasn’t allowed to touch wrapped tightly in a blanket. She sang to the baby doll when she was sad.

  “Yes, he’s a good boy to sleep for Momma. He sleeps like he’s supposed to.” She cooed at the doll and touched its plastic face tenderly, as if it were real. For a long time I thought the baby doll was real. But it never made any noise and she left it forgotten in its crib in her room for days at a time. Eventually I realized it was just a baby doll.

  Then I’d made the mistake of picking it up and rocking it, too. Momma had been very upset with me. I had gone three days without food, locked in my room.

  “Sweet little baby, Momma’s joy. I’m gonna go buy you some new toys.” She sang the made-up words. She always made up words to this song. I wasn’t sure if she didn’t know the real words or if she just liked singing about what she was doing.

  Then she threw the baby doll across the room and screamed, “Demon child!” over and over again as she stomped her feet. I ran back to my room as fast as I could and prayed she wouldn’t come after me.

  “Della?” Woods’s voice broke into my dream and my eyes snapped open. I looked up into his concerned face.

  “You okay? You were breathing hard.”

  That was all? I smiled. I was okay. I could live with the memories. If the terror didn’t come with them. “I’m fine,” I assured him, and cuddled against his side. “It was just a memory.”

  Woods ran his fingers up and down my arm. “Do you want to talk about them? Maybe if you told me, you would stop dreaming them altogether.”

  I started to say no and stopped. I had been telling people no for years because it sent me into the darkness when I let myself think about it. But I was better now. What if I did tell him my dreams . . . what if it could actually help?

  “Okay,” I said, not looking up at him. I kept my eyes on his chest. I wasn’t scared of the memories now. I just wasn’t sure how I was going to open myself up to him that completely. It would make me feel more vulnerable than I had ever felt. He would know my horrors. No one really knew them.

  It was time.

  Woods tightened his hold on me and I focused on the warmth of his arms. I was safe. Telling him was safe.

  “She was rocking the baby doll. She always rocked the baby doll when she was in one of her dark times. She sang to it and made up words to lullabies. I knew, even at five years old, that her singing to a plastic doll was wrong. Something was wrong. So, I would watch her. She never rocked me. Seeing her rock the doll confused me. Why would she rock a plastic baby doll? The baby was a he. She called it a him. She never called it by a name. Just ‘sweet baby’ and ‘baby boy.’ That was weird, too, because the boy they’d adopted before me was never a baby when they had him.” I stopped a moment and thought about looking up at Woods to see what he was thinking. But I had more to tell and I didn’t want to watch his eyes and see his reaction.

  “If she ever saw me watching her rock the baby she would yell at me and often hit me. She would tell me to be quiet, that the baby was sleeping. Or to go fix my brother some food and make sure he ate it. I hated making my brother food. I knew he’d never eat it and that it would get old and stinky before she’d finally give in and throw it away. The smell of rotten food permeated our house. I hated the stench.” I lay still in Woods’s arms. I knew that what I was telling him was disturbing. I knew it would bother him, but it was helping. He had been right. Talking about what I’d lived through with someone who loved me, not just a psychiatrist, helped.

  “When she was rocking the baby doll she would eventually realize it was plastic. I never knew what it was she saw but she would start screaming demon child and she would
throw it across the room like it was on fire. Then she would claw at herself and pull her hair. She would tell the doll she was sorry that she had let him go to the store. She was sorry that she hadn’t kept him safe. But then she would point and scream demon at it again. I didn’t usually watch that part except for once. It terrified me. When she started screaming I would hurry back to my room and close my door. That’s what I was dreaming about tonight. One of those moments.”

  Woods let out a long, shaky breath. “Shit,” he whispered, then pressed his face to the top of my head. He didn’t say anything else. He just held me. That was what I needed the most.

  It didn’t feel like I thought it would, opening myself up like that to him. I had always thought that showing someone what was inside, what had been my life, would expose me in a way that would make me unlovable. But I didn’t feel that way in Woods’s arms. He held me tightly to him and kissed my head. No other words were needed.

  My eyes closed and I relaxed in his arms. I had always felt safe with Woods. That wasn’t new. But now . . . now I felt like I’d found my anchor. My entire life I’d held on to anything I thought could hold me still and keep me from going under. I had clung to Braden for years, hoping that having her would remind me I was normal. That I wasn’t in that house anymore. But even though she loved me, she had never made me feel completely secure. She couldn’t give me the grounding I needed. I thought no one would ever be able to give that to me. Not after all I’d seen and lived through. I knew now that it wasn’t true. With Woods’s arms wrapped around me and the beat of his heart pressed against my chest, I knew he would hold me steady. If I ever fell, I’d have him to catch me.

  Woods

  I had drunk three cups of coffee that morning to prepare myself for the early tee time I had with Nile. After Della had told me about her dream last night and shared her memories, I hadn’t been able to sleep. I’d wanted to hold her and watch her sleep. The idea of her having another dream like that and my not being awake to stop it scared the shit out of me.

  That was fucked up. What she’d lived through was more fucked up than I could even imagine. She worried that she wasn’t strong enough, but, damn, anyone who had lived through what she had and still functioned normally day to day was strong. Della did more than function. She laughed, she made friends, she enjoyed life, she made me smile, and she completed my world. She was the strongest person I had ever met.

  “Sorry I’m late. The girls woke up early and I was trying to get them something to eat so they could watch television and let their mother sleep late,” Nile said, interrupting my thoughts.

  With his dark hair and blue eyes, he looked so much like Della that it was hard for me not to stare at him. There was no arguing that this man was her father. “No worries. I haven’t been here long,” I assured him.

  “You want a caddy?” I asked. I never used one but most members did.

  Nile glanced over at the golf cart I had already pulled around with my clubs and a set from the clubhouse. He had mentioned last night that he hadn’t brought his clubs with him.

  “No, I think I’d like it to be just us,” he said with a smile.

  He wanted to talk about Della. I figured as much. Which was why I hadn’t already had a caddy on standby.

  “All right, then we’re ready to go. I have water in the cooler but if you want something more, a cart will be around by the time we get to the third hole. We can order something from it if you prefer.”

  “Water’s great. Too early for anything else,” he replied.

  I drove us to the first hole. “Della is looking forward to meeting the girls and your wife down at the beach today.” They had planned a beach day. Nile was going to join them after our game. I was going to go work and give Della time alone with them.

  “The girls can’t wait to see Della again. They really took to her. Jillian adores her, too.”

  I parked the cart. “Della’s hard not to adore,” I said before getting out.

  “Yeah, she is. She’s much like her mother . . . uh, Glenda, that way.”

  I hadn’t met Glenda but I wanted to. Della looked like her birth father but she didn’t have his personality.

  Nile pulled his driver from the bag. “Della seems happy here,” he said.

  “She is,” I replied.

  He didn’t move to set up his shot. He studied me instead. “You haven’t proposed to her. And I couldn’t help but notice she didn’t make it sound like marriage was in her near future last night when the girls were questioning her.”

  Not a conversation I had expected to have with him today. I pulled my driver from the bag and tried not to get pissed by this line of questioning. “We haven’t talked about marriage yet.”

  Nile nodded. “I see,” he said.

  What the hell did “I see” mean? I was going to marry Della.

  “I’m going to shoot straight with you, Woods. You’re a good man. You have a bright future. When the woman you want to marry walks into your life, you will know it and you will want to be married to her. So, seeing as how you aren’t thinking of marriage to Della just yet, I know, as a man, that you aren’t sure she’s the one for you. I was going to wait but I have decided to ask Della to move to Phoenix and live with us. Jillian is on board with this idea. We stayed up most of last night talking about it. We have an extra bedroom and Della can finish school. She’s only twenty. She needs a family around her.”

  I could hear what he was saying but I felt like I had just stepped outside of myself and was watching this conversation happening. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. This man was not suggesting taking Della away from me. I shook my head before he finished talking and he stopped midsentence.

  “No,” was all I managed to say. He had blindsided me. I hadn’t expected this.

  “No?” he repeated as if he didn’t understand that word.

  “No,” I repeated. “You’re not taking Della away from me. I’ll follow her. Anywhere she goes I will follow her. She’s it for me. She isn’t going to Phoenix. She’s staying here with me. I’m going to marry her. No, I haven’t proposed yet, but I intend to. She just came back to me. She’s finally facing the horrors of her past and letting me help her heal. She’s mine, Nile. She is mine. She’s not going anywhere.”

  Nile studied me a moment, then he nodded. A smile touched his lips. “That’s what I wanted to hear,” he said, then turned and walked to the tee as if the conversation were over. It wasn’t fucking over until he told me he wasn’t asking Della to move to Phoenix.

  “What does that mean?” I demanded.

  Nile glanced back at me over his shoulder. “You showed passion and determination to keep her. You want her forever. I wanted to make sure. Now I just need to make sure she wants the same thing.”

  “You mean you lied to me to get me to admit I was going to marry her?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I liked this man anymore.

  “No. I’m very serious. If Della wants to move to Phoenix with us, then I’m taking her. I will spend every damn dime I have making up for the fact that I was a kid when she was born and didn’t know any better. I will give her a family and I’ll make sure she feels loved and a part of my family. But I needed to know that if I leave her here, then she’ll have someone who loves her with the passion that forever requires.”

  Wait . . . he was still asking her to move to Phoenix? “Della isn’t just mine. I belong to her.”

  Nile nodded. “Good. If she feels the same way she will tell me no when I ask her to move to Phoenix. If she does, I will know that she has a happy future ahead of her. I will also expect an invitation to the wedding.”

  “She won’t leave me,” I said with more force than necessary.

  “I guess we will see. Won’t we?” he said before giving his complete attention to his swing.

  Della

  Jasmine may have only been a couple minutes older than Jocelyn but she seemed years older. She laid out on a towel as if she were a teenager and talked to me about name
-brand clothing, which I knew nothing about, but I tried hard to follow along.

  Jocelyn and July asked me to build a sand castle with them, then we played in the waves until seaweed wrapped around July’s leg and sent her screaming to the shore.

  Jillian and I talked when the girls gave us a chance, but I preferred playing with them. They were so full of life. Nile had been a good father. They loved him. They all called him Daddy, which I thought was endearing.

  “Are you going to come live with us? I heard Daddy talking to Mommy about it late last night. They thought I was sleeping.” Jasmine watched me carefully.

  I wasn’t prepared for that question. She had waited until her mother had gotten up to take July to the restroom. I couldn’t figure out why Nile would even think to ask me to come live with them. I was happy here. I had a home.

  “I have a home here,” I told her.

  She nodded. “Yeah, but Daddy said you aren’t engaged and it didn’t look like you were going to get engaged. He was thinking you could live with us and go to college. We could be your family.”

  I was pretty sure Nile had never meant for me to know about this conversation. “I don’t think we should be talking about this. If your dad wants me to know about it, then he will talk to me about it.”

  Jasmine rolled over and looked up at me. “He’s going to. Just so you know.”

  Was this kid really nine? She acted like she was fifteen.

  “Here comes Daddy now,” she said with a smirk.

  I glanced back over my shoulder to see Nile walking toward us in a pair of blue and yellow plaid shorts and a white polo shirt. He looked like he’d just walked off the golf course.

  “Daddy,” Jocelyn squealed from next to her attempts at another sand castle, and went running to him. He reached down and picked her up and hugged her. Then he pretended to care that she’d gotten sand on him. It was cute.

 

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