When my mother looked up at the clock, she said, “It’s going to be a little while longer, Devon, but you can nibble on the appetizer trays in the dining room.”
“Okay!” he practically screamed, darting out of the kitchen.
“Don’t overdo it, buddy. I don’t want you to ruin your appetite.” Then I let out a slow breath, grateful that my son hadn’t spilled the beans about Justin.
Megan, however, was like a dog with a bone. “So is it pretty serious?”
Hoping I came off as nonchalant, I shrugged, walking to the doorway so I could pretend to be distracted by Devon’s eating habits. “Oh, I don’t know.”
My sister’s voice was light and airy, teasing. “Come on now. How serious are you guys?”
Before yesterday, it had felt serious and like a beautiful thing. Had Megan asked me twenty-four hours ago, I would have told her I loved Justin more than I ever had any other man. At just the thought, my heart ached as if a fist had clamped itself around that organ to squeeze the fucking life out of it. But I forced a smile on my face to scare the tears away.
You’re steel, Randi. And just because he’s fucked you over like every other man you’ve ever cared about, don’t tell her shit. “We’re friends.”
My mother stopped stirring the pot on the stove and turned to look me straight in the eyes. “You said he’s your boyfriend, that you’ve been dating for a while now.”
“Well, yeah.” But he left me last night. “But we’re friends first.” God, that sounded lame, but I was having a hard time spinning half-truths. Anything I said at this point would seem contrived.
Devon, however, reappeared at the kitchen doorway, holding a pickle—and he was more than willing to let the cat out of the bag. “Did mom tell you Justin moved in with us?”
Holy hell. It was like the brakes on my van had locked up with no warning. Any chance I would have had to gloss over my relationship with Justin crashed through the windshield. I blinked twice and licked my lips before saying, “Honey, why don’t you go play?”
“Okay, but I wanted to tell grandma the olives were delicious. And I can’t wait for turkey!” He rubbed his belly, smiling widely at my mother, licking his lips in a comical fashion that would have made me laugh any other time.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” She hugged him before he ran out of the kitchen again, and then she set down her wooden spoon, stepping closer to the table. While the expression on her face seemed less than pleased, her soft voice belied it. “Randi, I have about had it. This Justin—is he a friend, a boyfriend, or a live-in lover? Do you think you can manage to be honest for just one moment?”
Great. Now my mother thought I was a bald-faced liar. I’d stretched the truth today…but lying? Simply with that thought, I felt all the years of judgment from my entire family pile up on my shoulders—all the knowing looks, the sly suggestions, the basic belief that I was the black sheep, the bad seed. In that instant, it all came back and with it came the hurt, the guilt, the anger.
As the fucking tears welled up in my eyes yet again, I drew in a deep breath, deciding to just let it all out. “You want the truth? You got it. The whole damn truth. Justin and I met when I started taking classes, and we’ve been good friends ever since. You really want the truth? The truth is we’ve also been sleeping with each other a good part of that time. The truth? I didn’t want another messy relationship. I didn’t want another Kent who’d rip my heart and guts out while leaving me holding the bag—and I didn’t need another Mike who’d make me feel like a whore and then beat the shit out of me. The truth? I knew Justin was a player and I really didn’t care. In fact, it was better that way. We were friends no matter what. He helped me with the van and my math homework; I helped him with his English homework and fed him dinner a couple nights a week. And if we were friends with benefits, it kept me from seeking something I shouldn’t have.”
Holy fuck. I’d said too much—and yet it felt so good. I couldn’t stop. My sister was looking down at the floor, but my mother’s eyes were like daggers. “Having sex was a mutual decision—and it didn’t hurt anybody.”
My mother had had enough. “You don’t think it hurt your children?”
Suddenly, I was craving sweet nicotine—but I wasn’t about to back down. “Oh, come on, mom. You can’t be serious. Justin has been more of a father figure to my kids than Kent or Mike has ever been or ever will be. Neither of them has been involved in the kids’ day-to-day lives like Justin.”
“But the example you’re setting—”
“Setting how, mom? Showing them a loving relationship rather than an uncaring or abusive one? Do you think I’d be better off still being married to Mike?” Trying to keep my voice calm but failing, I spat, “Please don’t tell me you think I’d be better off with Mike.”
“I didn’t say that. But casual sex, Randi? How does casual sex constitute a loving relationship?”
Willing my heart to stop beating so hard, I lowered my voice. “I’m talking about our relationship now.”
As my mother let out a heavy sigh, she waved a hand curtly, so I turned my head to see my father standing in the doorway. Fucking A. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t find out now—but I didn’t need my mother to have an ally in this fucking fight. She asked, “What does that mean?”
I’d probably already lost the battle—but I wasn’t about to give up. “I mean that Justin and I made the decision to have a committed, exclusive relationship. And, yes, he is moving in with us.” Although now, for all I knew, he would be leaving, but I wasn’t about to say that right now.
And, despite, my mother’s unspoken request, my father simply couldn’t help himself. “You’re living with this Justin fellow?”
Now I was on trial. Even before today, I knew my family pictured my afterlife surrounded by the flames of hell, but it no long mattered. I looked my father squarely in the eye, forced myself to maintain it, because he had been the one man I’d always tried to please and failed at miserably since about the age of nineteen. It was time to let all that shit go, though, because if I couldn’t be honest with these people, then what the hell kind of relationship did we have anyway?
It was time to come completely clean.
“Yes. He moved in earlier this month.”
I could see through his eyes dozens of thoughts racing through his mind and I expected one hell of a tongue lashing. Ultimately, though, he leaned back on his usual admonition. “I’m disappointed in you.”
“Yeah, but isn’t that pretty much my life story?” My father got ready to speak, but I didn’t stop. “Have I made any decisions as an adult that you haven’t been disappointed in?” Goddammit, it was difficult, but I maintained eye contact as if it were the last thing I’d ever do.
“Why do you think I keep asking you to move in with your mother and me? I thought we could be a positive influence on you.”
“No, dad, you wanted to run my life the way you thought it should be run.” A tear dropped from one eye, but I kept the words coming. “I’m not a little girl anymore, dad, and I’m not you. I’m not mom. I’m not even like Megan. I’m me. And you either accept me the way I am or not. I can’t pretend to be someone else.”
That was it. I was done. And I watched my father as his jaw turned to steel, no longer ready to speak. As another tear fell, I noticed that my mouth felt suddenly dry—and I took my father’s silence as his answer. I allowed my eyes to shift from him to first my sister and then my mother.
More silence.
Uncomfortable fucking silence.
That was all the answer I needed, so I moved past my father and out of the room. My brother-in-law stood in the hallway where he’d apparently been listening to the drama. When I got closer, he averted his eyes and I walked past him, too. All I could think was that I was glad the kids had been out of earshot.
Stopping by the bathroom to grab some tissue, I swiped at my nose and eyes, but the tears just kept fucking dropping. I tried splashing cool water on my face, but I was
a complete wreck. All my makeup was gone, the mascara and eyeliner smeared under my eyes. I took another tissue, wiping away as much of the black as I could, but there was no disguising my red eyes and splotchy cheeks.
Still, the tears kept flowing.
When I exited the bathroom, I could hear my family mumbling in the kitchen, but I just didn’t give a shit anymore. Let them say what they would. My verbal explosion meant I’d pretty much severed any ties I had with them, so let them fucking talk. Letting out a slow breath, I began my descent into the basement to fetch my own progeny, and then I’d walk out the door with my head held high. I’d meant what I said. No longer would I live a double life, trying to appear as the “good girl” I thought my parents wanted and expected from me—and if that meant we couldn’t spend time together as a family anymore, so be it. I also knew, in the back of my mind, that it meant I had no control over where the chips fell from here on out—not just missing turkey, but grandparents no longer in my kids’ lives and having to figure out what to do with them tonight while I worked.
How to pick up the pieces of my messy fucking life.
But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t keep up this charade any fucking longer.
When I entered the den downstairs, all the kids were gathered around the big television. I hated being the bad guy, but we had to get the hell out of there. “Devon, Sarah, please get your coats.”
“What? Why?” My son clutched the game controller as if holding on for dear life, while Sarah looked up from where she was playing with her cousins.
“Because I said. Please get your coats and meet me upstairs.”
“But, mom—” Oh, Jesus. Devon started crying, stabbing at my heart.
Trying to keep my voice firm but steady, I said, “Please, Devon, I need you to do this for me.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spied my father entering the room. “Randi, you don’t need to go.”
The tears started dropping again and, suddenly, my arms felt weak. No longer could I force any more words out of my mouth.
Dad wrapped me in an embrace, pulling me close. “Don’t worry about your coats, kids. Just keep playing.” After some time passed, he lowered his voice so that only I could hear him. “I don’t approve of your lifestyle, Randi, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I could never stop loving you.” I lay my head against his solid frame, but I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even look up at him—but he continued. “But I hope I can still say what’s on my mind.”
I nodded as my dad held me close. After a bit, Devon joined us, wrapping his thin arms around both of us as far as he could stretch. I knelt over and kissed him on the cheek, glad to see that his tears had been shorter-lived than mine.
My father said, “Come on. Let’s go back upstairs and get ready to eat, okay?”
I could only say one thing without crying again. “I love you, too, dad.” And, maybe, that was all I needed to say.
Chapter Twenty-nine
The family was gathered around the table, our heads bowed and hands joined, waiting for my father to start saying grace, the final step before anyone could eat, when the doorbell rang. My dad looked over at my mother and asked, “Are we expecting anyone else?”
“No.”
“Hmm. Excuse me a moment.”
Surprisingly, the kids were behaved despite shuffling in their seats. Megan’s youngest sat in her highchair, banging the tray. “Bah-bah. Bah-bah.”
Megan shook her head at the toddler. “No bah-bah. Sippy cup.” Then she set the cup on the tray until her little one knocked it off with the spoon in her fist. I tried not to snicker, quickly recalling my days spent training children in the etiquette of eating. Then I realized I would be doing this same thing again soon enough.
Holy fuck. I’d already decided to keep the baby.
When my father returned to the dining room, Justin was right behind him. I simply stared as if he were a figment of my imagination. Devon, though, ran over to hug him. “Justin! Mom said you couldn’t come today!”
That man picked Devon up to hug him properly. “Your mom just misunderstood, buddy.”
My father said, “Everyone, this is Justin. Randi’s Justin.” He went around the table, introducing everyone by name, as I found the strength to walk over to him. The whole time, though, I wondered what his arrival meant.
Even Sarah walked past me, hugging Justin before I could reach him. When I did, I scanned his eyes, trying to read his message. But he put Devon down and embraced me. Once more, the tears tried to start up again as I allowed myself to believe Justin’s appearance was a good omen.
My mother’s voice cut through the air. “Randall, for heaven’s sake, would you fetch a chair while I get another place setting?”
Suddenly, I felt a sense of relief that I hadn’t said anything about Justin leaving—although, deep down, I knew that was still a possibility. Why was he here? I had no idea. As if he could sense my doubt, he whispered in my ear, “I promised you I’d be here, didn’t I?”
We began the meal and the two of us didn’t talk. While there was a heaviness between us, an indication of so many goddamned things unsaid, we both knew this was not the time or the place for any sort of discussion. But it was no surprise that he could charm the hell out of my family. As he took their questions, Justin quickly won over my mom and Megan—but I was almost shocked at how well he was getting along with my father and brother-in-law, too, fielding not only their questions about vehicles, but school, me, my kids. Even his humor was spot on, and I could feel us all relaxing around the table, more because of the company than the tryptophan from the turkey.
As plates got emptier, even after second helpings, my mother announced, “I think it’s time for some pie.” My father mockingly shoved his stomach out and patted it as if he couldn’t eat another bite. “But first we need to clean up a little. If I could persuade everyone to scrape their plates in the kitchen, the girls and I can bring in dessert after.”
Everyone made their way to the kitchen, obeying my mother’s command, placing their scraped dishes on the counter next to the sink before heading back to the dining room. I, however, stayed with my mother and sister until we began making several trips back and forth with pies, whipped cream, serving utensils, and dessert plates.
After serving pie to all the kids, my mother looked over at Justin and repeated the entire menu to him before asking, “What kind would you like?”
“I’m not sure yet. I think I’d like a breath of fresh air before eating more.”
“Of course.”
I asked, “Is it okay if we go out back?” Once I had their permission, I led him through the house. Although I was tempted to take his hand, I refrained, still not knowing where I stood with him. I had a feeling that now we would talk, so I led him to the rack by the front door first where we could take our coats, and then we went through the living room to the sliding glass door onto the deck. Fortunately, it was covered by awning. Although the lawn just beyond it was buried in snow, the deck was dry.
Justin stuck his hands in his jeans, letting out a breath that I could see. Even though it was chilly out here, the crisp air felt welcome after being in the stifling house.
I started wondering if he expected me to speak first, but I didn’t know what to say. So I stared out at the yard and wound my arm through Justin’s, hoping he wouldn’t push me away.
Finally, he said, “Rascal, what the hell am I gonna do with you?”
Once again, my eyes filled with hot tears. “I don’t know.”
Gently, he turned me to face him and then he held me with both arms. As I looked up at him, he leaned down to kiss me. And, oh, what a kiss. That same kiss that had always washed away all the bad, and although I managed to stop crying, two tears snuck out just the same. “Now stop that.” With his thumb, he wiped them off my cheeks. “I can’t leave you, Randi. I just needed time to think.”
Instead of feeling comforted, though, I was struck by his words, and, as they rattled a
round in my brain pan, I felt worse. “What do you mean you can’t?” I fought to keep my lips from quivering. “Don’t let guilt stop you.”
“That’s not what I meant. Goddammit, woman, don’t you know by now what you mean to me?” No, I didn’t, and I shook my head. “Do you need me to say it, say that I love you?” There were those fucking tears again and a hot sensation in my nose as my body revved up for another crying jag. But this time it was a happy response as he cupped my cheeks with his hands. “I love you, okay? I love you.”
As I wrapped my arms around him, I was able to force out my own declaration. “I love you, too.”
I nestled my head against his chest, attempting to suppress more tears, and Justin rested his chin on top of my head. “I thought I’d made it pretty clear. I can’t leave you, Rascal. I can’t be without you. You’re every woman to me. The end. The all. You’re it. When I say, I can’t, I mean I don’t know how—and I don’t want to.” Then, pulling away just enough that he could lift my head with two fingers under my chin, he almost whispered, “When I said I needed time to think, that’s what I meant. That’s all I meant.” And then he kissed me again, taking my breath away. “And I even think I’m okay with being a dad. You sure you’re pregnant?”
“I haven’t had a pregnancy test lie to me yet.”
“Does that mean we can’t have sex until the baby gets here?”
“Are you kidding?”
Justin’s mouth curved into a lopsided grin. “No.”
“We can have sex until I go into labor!”
“That won’t hurt the baby?”
I couldn’t help the small giggle bubbling up in my throat. “No. Devon seems okay, doesn’t he?”
“Aw, fuck. Don’t make me picture you and your ex having sex.”
“You asked—but trust me. It’s perfectly safe.”
Pressing his lips to my forehead, he said, “Guess we better get back inside. You cold?”
“Yes.”
But he gave me one more heart-warming kiss before we went back inside. Then we spent the afternoon visiting with my family, smiling and laughing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d enjoyed myself with my family so much. When we had to leave later, everyone seemed sad that we had to go.
Love and Sorrow (Small Town Secrets Book 5) Page 26