Tessa Ever After

by Brighton Walsh

  A protest gets caught in my throat, and I press my hand to my mouth while the butterflies in my stomach that have always been present when Jason’s around twist and turn and spin like a swarm of hornets. I take a tentative step forward so I can peer into the open space, my tunnel vision seeing only Jason standing in front of his mother, his face cold and harsh and unlike everything I’ve come to know of him.

  And then Jason puts the last nail in the coffin and pounds his point home. “Let me repeat it for you, so you can run off and tell my father and the partners: There is no me and Tessa. She was there to scratch an itch, and I let her. That’s it. I learned a long time ago not to get involved with anyone. She’s no exception.”

  That shoe I was waiting to drop just fell from the sky on top of me, a steel-toed boot right to the temple, and even knowing it was coming, even expecting it, doesn’t lessen the harsh blow. I gasp in disbelief, hurt and anger warring inside, and how did I not expect this exact scenario? Somehow I thought he’d get spooked, run when it was getting too serious. And even though I worried about it, I wasn’t actually prepared for all my doubts to get thrown back in my face.

  I wasn’t prepared for him to discard me so easily.

  jason

  As soon as I say the words to my mother, I want to take them back. I hate saying them, the lies sitting bitter on my tongue, but I won’t give Tessa and Haley to her, not like this. Not to simply please a group of old men I give zero fucks about. Not just for appearance. My parents are getting my life, they don’t get the reason it’s worth living, too.

  A choked gasp sounds from off to the side, and I whip my head toward the noise, my back going rigid to see the one person I was trying to keep away from all this staring at me like she doesn’t even know who I am. She’s bundled in her bright pink coat, a wool beanie pulled down over her head, and I want to kiss her and tell her to get the hell out of here because she doesn’t belong anywhere near the woman who’s spent the last twenty-four years slowly sucking the life out of me.

  Tessa opens her mouth to say something, but snaps it shut, her jaw clenching and eyes narrowing. She throws something in my direction before spinning around and walking back down the hall, the door banging open against the wall in her rush to leave.

  “Tessa, wait!” Without thought to my mom still sitting there witnessing this, I hurry after Tessa, past my apartment door and out into the hall, watching as the elevator doors start to close on her red, furious face. I sprint the last few feet, sticking my arm in to keep the doors from closing, then slipping inside. She’s braced against the back wall, her expression livid, and I’m glad she’s pissed as hell. I can handle that more than I can handle tears. I step toward her and reach out for her hand.

  She jerks away like I burned her. “Don’t you dare touch me. You lost that right about three minutes ago.”

  I shake my head, forcing my hands to my side so they don’t reach for her again. “No, baby, you don’t understand. Just let me explain.”

  She laughs, and even I can admit how lame it sounds. “Explain what? Your words were pretty clear back there, and I don’t think I missed much.” She shakes her head, looking into my eyes like she’s searching for the truth. “I can’t believe I fell for it. I really thought you’d changed.”

  “I did change—”

  She holds up her hand, stopping me as she says, “Save it, Jason. When this whole thing started, when you pushed this thing between us, you knew exactly what I was looking for. A man, not a boy. Someone who wanted to be with me and Haley for the long haul, someone who was mature and knew what he wanted.”

  “I know, and I—”

  She interrupts me again. “I had to grow up way too young, and that sometimes makes it hard to be a twenty-two-year-old, but it’s who I am. And it’s who I need. I want to be in a relationship with a grown-up, and you’re never going to be one, are you?” She shakes her head, taking a deep breath as she closes her eyes for a minute before staring at me again, her jaw set and fire in her eyes. “My car . . . the pipes, and then Thanksgiving—was that all just because you pitied me? Well, fuck you,” she says with a jab of her finger into my chest. “I don’t need your help or your pity. And I sure as hell don’t need you.”

  The doors to the elevator open on the main floor, and she doesn’t hesitate as she walks around me and through the lobby, leaving without even a backward glance. Her words, though hurtful and pride-filled, seep into me, and I have nothing to say—no response that will come. All the fire drains out of me, because she’s absolutely right. She doesn’t need me or my fucked-up family screwing up her life and the life of that little girl I love so much. Because of that, I don’t stop her when she opens the main door and steps outside. When she gets into her car and backs up. And I don’t stop her when she drives away.

  I just let her go, because if there’s one thing my mother taught me by coming here today it’s that it’s never going to end. As long as they’re in my life, I’m always going to be a pawn for them, everything in my life nothing more than easily movable pieces, and I refuse to let Tessa and Haley just be pieces in my parents’ puzzle. They deserve so much better than that.

  Numbly, I take the elevator up to my floor, head hanging in resignation. My door is still open when I get to it, which means my mother is still inside. I walk through, slamming the door behind me, and head to where I know I’ll find her. She’s sitting primly on the edge of my couch, stiff as a board, and I hate everything my life is because of her . . . because of my father. Yes, they’ve given me everything I could’ve ever asked for—except the one thing I wanted more than anything, the one thing my grandfather gave me but took with him to the grave: acceptance.

  A glint of metal on the floor catches my eye—the object Tessa threw at me before she left—and I don’t have to bend down to retrieve it to know it’s the key I gave her.

  “Well, as that little situation proved, there is no me and Tessa.” My voice is flat as I address my mother. “You can bring the news home to your puppet masters.”

  “Jason . . .” She hesitates, clearly conflicted after everything she witnessed, but not enough to bottle that shit up. “You’re still planning—”

  “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll be there, suit in place, on January second.”

  With a nod, she stands. “There’s also the holiday party the Friday after Christmas.”

  “Which I won’t be attending.”

  “It’s not optional.”

  “The fuck it’s not. You own me in January. Every day before that is mine. I trust even without a housekeeper to show you, you can find your way out.” Even as I say it, I turn around and head into the kitchen. Forgoing the beer I’d had earlier, I pull some whiskey from the cupboard and grab a glass, ignoring my mother as she walks down the hall and the front door closes behind her.

  And then I swallow two fingers of the amber liquid, letting it burn my throat, and immediately pour another, content to let the alcohol pull me under.

  TWENTY-NINE

  tessa

  Somehow I make it home, relieve Becky from babysitting, and get Haley to bed before I allow myself to even think about the events of the last couple hours. I can’t even say I’m blinded by it, having been expecting it for so long. I just had no idea it would be like this. Admitting to his mom, of all people, that I’m basically a glorified booty call.

  I’m lying in bed for forty-five minutes, reliving every word I heard from him, every subtle look in his eyes, before I finally give in and grab my phone to dial Paige’s number.

  “Hey, girlie. How’d that surprise go? Get your lady business all taken care of?”

  A choked laugh leaves me, and before I know what’s happening, I’m crying—sobbing, really—not able to say anything.

  “Oh shit, Tess? What the hell happened?” Rustling in the background comes over the line, then the jangling of her keys. “Never mind, I’ll be there in ten.”

  The call disconnects, and I let the phone fall to my side, scrubbi
ng my hands over my face. I don’t want to cry over this, over him, especially when he discarded me so easily when pressed by his mother, but I can’t help it. The tears come unbidden and don’t stop until Paige shows up some time later. She takes her shoes off and climbs into bed with me, a carton of double-fudge brownie and two spoons set before me like an offering.

  Her eyes are sympathetic when I tell her everything that happened, sparing no details. The compassion that was initially in her gaze is now backed by a flickering fierceness, like she wants to take off and find Jason herself, teach him a lesson, and that in and of itself is priceless. That I have a friend who wants to take a piece out of anyone who hurts me is a balm to my broken heart.

  Sometime later, after I’ve calmed myself enough to stop crying, we’re sitting up in my bed, both eating straight from the carton.

  “I just don’t get it. It doesn’t make any sense . . . not with the way he was around you,” she says around a bite of ice cream.

  “Doesn’t matter if it makes sense. He said the words, loud and clear. I wasn’t hallucinating.”

  “No, I know you weren’t. But, was it . . . was it maybe something he was saying just to get his mom off his back? I know you’ve said they’re total assholes, making him do shit he doesn’t want.”

  “But what could they make him do? Break up with me? They hate me enough for that, and Jason certainly accomplished it.” I shake my head and spoon another bite out of the carton. “No, that wasn’t it. But you know what? It doesn’t matter. Because this just cemented the fact that deep down he’s still a boy. He’s never gonna grow up, and that’s all I’ve ever looked for—a relationship with an adult.”

  “Have you talked to Cade at all? See what he—”

  “No. No way.” I hadn’t even thought about how I would tell Cade this turn of events, especially since he was so against Jason and me getting together in the first place. “How am I going to tell him?” And then a thought I didn’t allow myself to contemplate seeps in, and my shoulders sag. “How am I going to tell her?” I ask, and Paige knows I’m talking about Haley without my having to say it.

  The thought of my little girl’s devastation at hearing Jason won’t be coming around as much anymore brings a fresh wave of tears from my eyes, and I accept the spoonful of chocolate medicine Paige offers me to help ease the burn in my chest.

  • • •

  IT’S THREE DAYS later before Haley asks about Jason. Three days where I was afforded quiet contemplation—which basically meant I spent three nights crying myself to sleep. I didn’t think it through enough before I leapt into this with Jason. He’s been a fixture in my life for nearly as long as I could remember, and then, suddenly, he’s just gone.

  I miss more than the combustible chemistry we had together, more than the intimacy we shared. I miss the guy he came to be over the last few months—my best friend next to Paige. And the loss shatters me all over again.

  Once those three days have passed, when Haley finally asks where Jason’s been, it becomes an everyday occurrence. Wondering if he’ll be by that evening, if he can come over Saturday for a pajama day, if he’ll take her out in the snow to play. And I try to fill the void, taking her to a movie on the night she hopes he’ll swing by, doing a donut and PJ day, complete with cookies for lunch on Saturday. Making snow angels and snowmen and having snowball fights with her, even though I absolutely loathe the snow, just to see her smile.

  But she doesn’t stop asking.

  And every time she does, my heart breaks a little more.

  Not for me, though mine is decimated. But for my daughter. She doesn’t understand the mechanics of grown-up relationships, which is why I’ve always sheltered her from mine, never allowed a man to get too close.

  Couldn’t really avoid that with Jason, the man who’s been in her life since the day she was born, could I?

  A week after I broke things off with Jason, Haley and I are in the bathroom at home, her in a bath piled high with white bubbles, some on her face acting like a beard, while I sit on the rug and supervise.

  “Do I look like Santa, Mama?”

  “Just like him. You need to eat more donuts, though, to get your belly like his.”

  “Maybe I better have some tomorrow, then.”

  I laugh, shaking my head as I soap up her hair, trying to make funny shapes with it. It’s too thick and heavy, though, and falls down her back before anything can come of it.

  “When’s Uncle Cade comin’?”

  “He’ll be here next week, right before Christmas.”

  “Winter, too?”

  “Yep, she’s coming, too.”

  The smile she gives me is blinding, and I’m so glad she has this to distract her, even if temporarily, from the void Jason didn’t even realize—or didn’t even care—he’d leave.

  “What about Jay? He comin’, too?”

  I guess it’s not distracting her like I hoped it would.

  Like I’ve done the last week she’s been asking about it, I deflect. “Um, I’m not sure, baby. We’ll have to see what his schedule’s like.”

  “How come he’s not comin’ around as much anymore? It’s been forever. He said we could build a snow fort.”

  Despite my broken heart, hearing my daughter’s angelic voice say that Jason promised her something—promised and flaked—pisses me off, and I work hard to keep my temper under control so she doesn’t see it.

  “He’s been really busy with school and stuff for his parents, I think.” That’s right, I’ve been a coward and haven’t told her anything about what happened. I haven’t told Cade, either, though he’s going to know about five minutes after he gets home. He’s got this weird voodoo power over me and can always sense when something’s off.

  “Well, he better get here before the snow melts.”

  I laugh and pour some water over her head to rinse her hair. “We’ve got a while till the snow melts, baby. It came early this year.”

  “Yes!” she hisses, flailing about in the bath and splashing water everywhere.

  And just like that, she transitions to talking about something else, her shoulders relaxed and a smile on her face, all contemplation over Jason pushed to the back of her mind.

  I only wish it were that easy for me. That the thoughts of him didn’t come to me at all hours of the day. That the nights, when I should get a reprieve from him, weren’t filled with dreams of what it was like when we were together so I’m forced to wake up with those thoughts fresh in my mind. Memories of his lips and hands on me, of his sweet whispered words crowding my head and heart.

  So I can never get a moment’s peace from the memory of him.

  THIRTY

  tessa

  Cade’s here for two hours before the drilling starts. He lasted longer than I thought he would, to be honest. I knew it was killing him, though, to know something was wrong but not be able to ask about it—not until Haley was out of earshot, snuggled and sound asleep in her bed.

  She’s tucked in now, and I’m changed into some yoga pants and a hoodie, ready as I’ll ever be to face whatever questioning Cade can throw at me. I know there’s no getting out of this conversation with him, and I’m dreading it. Almost as much as I dread the nightly question from Haley about where Jason’s been.

  I make my way into the kitchen and see Cade in there, opened bottle of beer in front of him and a wineglass filled halfway with red liquid in front of the empty chair next to him.

  “That for Winter?” I ask with a nod toward the glass.

  “No, she’s in the bedroom.”

  “Ahh, no witnesses for this, huh?”

  He ignores my question as I slide into the seat next to him and take a drink of the much-needed wine. Then he dives in. “Where’s Jase tonight?”

  Taking a deep pull of my wine, I avoid Cade’s eyes. “Hell if I know.”

  He swears under his breath. “What’d he do, Tess?”

  I expel a deep breath and shake my head. “It’s nothing, okay? All yo
u need to know is whatever we were doing is done. And I really don’t need to hear ‘I told you so,’ all right?”

  “How about I’m going to kick his ass? Can you hear that?”

  I laugh, and think for half a second about actually letting him, because he totally would. “I love you for wanting to protect me, but I’m a big girl, Cade. This is as much on me as it is on him.”

  He sits back in the chair, his eyes wide. “How the hell do you figure that?”

  I shrug, running my finger along the rim of the glass. “I went in with both eyes open, knowing exactly what I was getting into with him, and jumped anyway. Jason was never the idiot in this scenario. That title belongs solely to me.”

  He clenches his hands against the island. “I’m going to kill him.”

  Smiling, I put my hand on his arm to keep him seated next to me. “No you’re not. You’re going to sit here and tell me about your fancy, glamorous life in Chicago to keep my mind off it.”

  He must see something in my eyes because he relaxes back in his chair and takes a swig of his beer. “It’s . . . God, Tess, I can’t even tell you how fucking amazing it is. John has me running the kitchen on Oscar’s nights off, and I feel like I’m in heaven. Talks are getting more serious about opening another three restaurants. Tentative plans are for Minneapolis, Denver, and . . . here.”

  I gasp, my fingers tightening on his arm. “Here? Are you serious?”

  “Yep.”

  “Holy shit, Cade.”

  “I know.”

  “Does this mean you might be coming back?” I hold my breath, waiting for the answer. And I realize with a start that me wanting him back has nothing to do with lifting the burden he once helped me shoulder. Sometime over the last month, Haley and I really hit our stride, nights going a little smoother, days a little less frantic. It’s not perfect—I’m never going to be perfect, and I’m finally okay with that—but it’s manageable. And we make a pretty damn good team, just the two of us. No, my excitement is strictly because I’ve missed having my brother around. And my daughter has missed her uncle.