by Reese Ryan
He winced, transferring his gaze to the ceiling and pulling her into him. “We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.”
She bit her lip and nodded, her heart breaking a little at the possibility of losing him. Maybe Ex was right; maybe she did love him. After all, he was the first man who’d ever made her want to love him.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jamie rolled over in bed, her cell phone screaming the lyrics of the Red Hot Chili Peppers “Scar Tissue.” It was the hospital.
“Yes?”
“Ms. Charles?”
“Yes, this is Jamie.”
“It’s Ms. Nelson, your mother’s nurse.”
“What’s wrong?” Lying on her belly, barely able to see through the hair covering her eyes, she lifted herself onto her elbows. “Did something happen?”
“Yes,” she said excitedly. “Your mother woke up late last night. The doctor just examined her and she seems to be doing well. She’s asking for you.”
Jamie sucked in a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She swallowed then opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t budge past the lump in her throat.
“Ms. Charles...are you still there?”
Jamie nodded before it hit her that Nurse Nelson couldn’t see her, that she’d have to verbalize the affirmation. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “I mean, yes, I’m here. Thank you for calling me. Please tell my—Jo...that I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“She’ll be thrilled. And Ms....Jamie, I know that you and your mother don’t have the best relationship. But you’re doing the right thing. We never regret being the better person. We only regret it when we aren’t.”
Jamie bit her lip. “Thanks. I appreciate it, and everything you’ve done for her.”
For the past week she’d continued her visits to the hospital. Ellie had gone with her twice. Miles and Mimi had both met her there during their lunch breaks. And yesterday Lisa had taken her, despite the fact that Jamie wouldn’t let her smuggle Archie in. This week she’d decided she would finally go alone. Just her luck that Jo would decide to pick the first day she was flying solo as the day she decided to arise from the near-dead.
She hopped in the shower, got ready and called Nazirah to tell her she wouldn’t make it into the gallery. Then she headed to the hospital to face Josephine.
* * *
Jamie knocked at the partially closed door of Jo’s hospital room. It felt strange. She’d been visiting for two weeks and had never had to knock at the door.
“Yes?”
Jamie chafed at the sound of Jo’s voice—hoarse from the breathing tube. She stiffened her spine and slipped inside. “Hey.”
“Jamie!” Jo’s eyes danced, a guarded smile on her worn face as she beckoned her to the chair beside her bed.
Jamie glanced longingly at her preferred seat in the corner, the one that allowed her to be in the room yet remain as far away from Jo as possible. It would be rude of her not to take the seat next to her, and she hadn’t really come all this way just to be rude, had she? She ambled slowly toward the chair and took a seat, sliding it back a foot and placing her bag on the floor.
“It’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
Jo smiled, but her shoulders fell. She seemed disappointed that Jamie made no move to embrace her. Did she actually expect her to run up to her and hug her? That everything would instantly be forgiven?
“Stiff and a little groggy, but not too bad otherwise,” Jo said, her words difficult to understand. She smoothed the sheet over her legs and shifted back against the pillows. “How’ve you been?”
“Okay, I guess.” Jamie shrugged, her gaze roaming over the equipment and decor in the room. Funny, she’d been there several times, yet she’d barely noticed anything but the creases in Jo’s face, the features that were more like her own than she’d remembered and her dark auburn hair, now streaked with wiry gray. But now that Jo was awake and able to return her gaze, she desperately sought to look at anything but her.
“Nurse Nelson said you came to see me nearly every day. I couldn’t believe you came, not after...” Her voice broke. She fell back against the pillow, sniffling.
Jamie snatched a few tissues from the box on the bedside table. Nurse Nelson had obviously embellished the story a bit, failing to mention their first conversation or the fact that her visits began more than a week after the initial call. But the woman was so touched. Jamie didn’t see the need to rob her of the illusion. Still, leaden feelings of guilt tugged at her insides. “You were really lucky this time. What if someone hadn’t brought you here?”
Jo shrugged, directing her gaze to the hospital band she wore. Sliding one finger beneath the band, she shifted it, centering her name on her wrist.
Jamie searched her face. “You said you were clean. Was that a lie?”
“I didn’t lie to you. I was clean. I just...” Tears filled her eyes. She squeezed them shut, swiping the back of her hand across the damp corners. “The past few weeks have been rough for me. I thought I could handle it, but...I slipped, that’s all. You have to believe me. Everything I’ve said to you is true.”
Jamie narrowed her eyes as she carefully assessed Jo’s face. Every addict was a liar. It was as integral to the lifestyle as sugar or flour was to a cake. But as her eyes searched her mother’s, all she could see was overwhelming pain. “So what happens now?”
“I’m going straight again. I promise.”
Jamie eyed her skeptically.
“Really. They’re putting me into a court-ordered rehab program and then my social worker says she’s gon’ try to get me into a program to help me get housing. So you don’t have to worry, I’m not looking for a place to stay or nothin’.”
“What are you looking for?” Jamie tilted her head, an eyebrow raised. “What do you really want from me?”
“A second chance. I know I can’t make up for the things I did. But I’d like to spend whatever time I have left on this earth tryin’. And one day you’ll have children—”
“I don’t plan on having kids. Ever,” Jamie cut her off abruptly, her face twisted into a scowl.
“Why? You’re a beautiful girl and the entire nursing staff is swooning over that nice young fella of yours.”
Jamie bristled at her mention of Miles. “The women in our family aren’t cut out for motherhood.”
Jo sucked in a sharp breath in response to her harsh tone, but she couldn’t bring herself to be sorry for what she’d said or how she’d said it.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know.” Jamie nodded wearily, climbing to her feet. “Look, I’ve gotta go. But I’ll be back, if not tomorrow, later this week, alright?”
Jo gripped the side rails, pulling herself upright. “Promise?”
Jamie hesitated for a beat before she responded. Honestly, she’d wondered if she would return. Visiting when the woman was in a coma and couldn’t speak was one thing, but dealing with her while she was conscious was quite another. Xavier’s words echoed in her head. She’s your mom. “I promise. Take care of yourself.”
A slow smile lit her eyes. “You, too, baby. You, too.”
* * *
Jamie had kept her promise, returning to the hospital to see her mother a few times a week for the past several weeks. She hated to admit it, but part of her seemed to be slowly unfurling, like the fingers of an unclenching fist. And while she tried her hardest to be patient, kind, there were moments of every visit when she wanted to lash out, demanding to know where this woman had been all her life.
She would sit by Jo’s bed and sketch. Sometimes she would sketch her, the staff or other patients. Her regular visits to the hospital had given her an idea for a thematic series of paintings dealing with recovery. And not just recovery from drugs or alcohol, but physical, mental and emotional ailments, too. Nazirah loved the idea when she’d posed it to her. Her hospital visits had become a bit more frequent, nearly every day, including weekends. For her art, of
course. The fact that those visits were also slowly reshaping her feelings about her mother were just a bonus.
They could talk about her art, the weather or what it was like for Jo growing up on a farm in Georgia. But Jamie drew a line in the sand, never crossing it or allowing Jo to when it came to discussing their past. Jo had tried several times to broach the subject and to apologize, but Jamie wouldn’t budge. So she was surprised by Jo’s greeting when she arrived for a visit.
“Jamie, honey, we have to talk about what happened that day at your apartment.”
Jamie frowned, her spine tensing as she pulled the snack cake she smuggled in each visit from her purse. Shoving it into Jo’s hand, she responded flatly, “No. We’ve already dis—”
“We’ve discussed the fact that you don’t want to discuss it, but that doesn’t change the fact that we do need to talk about it.”
“Why? Because it went so well the first time?” Jamie dropped her purse on the floor with a thud and flopped into the chair, hoping her cell phone hadn’t shifted to the bottom of the bag.
Jo placed her feet on the floor then maneuvered into the chair beside Jamie’s. “I came back here because once I got serious about recovery, I knew I had to make amends with you. You’re the only family I have. I need to make things right with you.”
Jamie forced her heels into the floor, sliding the chair a few inches away. Jo winced. She did that whenever Jamie made an effort to put space between them.
In all her visits she hadn’t touched the woman or allowed Jo to touch her. The thought of it always made her skin crawl. Maybe it was her way of ensuring that she didn’t let Jo too close. She needed to be kept at arm’s length—preferably farther.
“I’m familiar with twelve-step programs,” Jamie said calmly. “And you’re supposed to make direct amends as long as doing so doesn’t harm the person. So talking about what happened that day, what happened nearly twenty years ago...it may serve your purpose, but it doesn’t serve mine.”
There was a flash of recognition in Jo’s eyes. “You’ve been through the program?”
“I’ve been through a program,” she said quickly. “And I don’t want to talk about that either.”
Jo grimaced, placing her hand to her chest. “That’s why we need to talk about this. I have so many things I need to say to you, to apologize for. I was already afraid you’d never be able to forgive me, but when I learned...” She moved her hand to cover her mouth and inhaled deeply. The corners of her eyes were wet. “I was so devastated. I bought my first bottle of gin in six months as soon as I left your place that day.”
Jamie’s eyes widened. She stood so quickly she nearly toppled the pitcher of water beside Jo’s bed. “So this is my fault?” She peered at Josephine through angry slits, her hands slicing through the air as she spoke.
“Of course not, honey.”
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Calling me things like that—honey, baby, darling. You don’t get to call me by terms of endearment. You haven’t earned that right.” Jamie came to a halt in front of Jo, fists clenched at her side. Her chest felt tight and there was a steady thumping in her right temple. Just like that, the anger and resentment she’d spent the past few weeks burying deep inside had risen to the surface.
Jo swallowed and nodded meekly. “You’re absolutely right. I haven’t done a single thing to earn your love or your forgiveness. But I want to, and I would do anything to make it up to you. Just name it.”
Jamie took a few steps toward her. “Can you give me back everything I lost the night that sick bastard crept into my room? Do you even know what my life has been like? How fucked-up I’ve been since then? No, of course you don’t. Because you weren’t there. You have never been there for me. Even before you walked out on me, you were already gone.” Jamie turned away, her hands cupped over her mouth, her body trembling. She turned back to the woman who sat there crying. “You’re looking for absolution, but I can’t give that to you. You have to earn it.”
Tears streamed down Jo’s face, her shoulders convulsing as she buried her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She kept repeating the words over and over, like she was in a trance.
Jamie stood for a moment, staring at her. The unabated anger she felt a moment ago was tempered by an unexpected desire to reach out and comfort her. Her head was swimming and her stomach ached. She snatched her purse off the floor. “I have to go. They’re releasing you to the rehab center later this week. I’ll be here then.”
“Jamie, don’t go. Plea—”
She shut the door behind her and made her way down the hall as quickly as she could, her heart breaking. Pulling out her phone, she cleared her throat and dialed, trying not to think of the pain and anger she was running away from, but the amazing man she was running toward.
“Hey, beautiful, how’d it go with your mom today?”
“Better already,” she said, her heartbeat slowing. Just the sound of his voice had already begun to dull the pain.
* * *
It’d been four days since Jamie had visited Jo, but her mother was scheduled to be released, and she’d promised to see her off. As she approached the nurses’ station on her mother’s floor, she was greeted by a panicked expression on Nurse Nelson’s face.
Jamie froze where she was standing. “What is it? What happened?”
The woman lowered her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jamie, but your mother isn’t here.”
“Where is she?”
“We don’t know. She was scheduled to be released to the rehab center, but she disappeared in the middle of the night.”
Jamie nodded, biting her lip. She felt stupid for asking, but couldn’t help herself. “You don’t think someone might have taken her, do you?”
Nurse Nelson’s shoulders drooped further. Her expression was a mixture of pity and compassion. She shook her head slowly. “All of her things are gone.”
Jamie pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose, trying to relieve the sudden throbbing there. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate everything you’ve done. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and to my—” she sighed, “—to Jo.”
“I’ll call you if she returns,” the nurse called to her retreating back.
Jamie didn’t break her stride as she replied over her shoulder. “She won’t.”
* * *
“This isn’t your fault. You know that, right?” Miles handed Jamie the Lou Gordon he’d just made under her tutelage.
She took a sip, rolling her tongue around in her mouth—an action he found disturbingly hot—then pursed her lips and gestured with her hand that he was almost there before handing it back to him. “Isn’t it?”
He set the glass down then came around the bar and sat next to her. She’d been sitting there with the pool cue in her hand, debating her shot for nearly ten minutes, and it was completely unlike her. Jamie was practically a pool shark. She routinely kicked his ass in billiards without the slightest concern for his bruised male ego. But tonight he’d already won three games, and now she couldn’t seem to pick her shot.
“No, it isn’t.” He pulled her off the stool so that she was standing between his legs, his arms draped around her waist. Taking the cue from her hands, he leaned it against the bar. “Look, I’m not saying that was the best way to handle the situation, but your reaction is understandable. Jo said she wanted to make amends with you. She had to expect you’d be angry, that you two would need to work through it. If she couldn’t deal with your honest reaction, then she’s not ready to work things out.”
She bit her lip and nodded, her chin tilted down as she barely raised her gaze to his. He could feel the tension in her stomach, pressed against his thigh. He slipped a finger in the waistband of her jeans, which didn’t hug her curves the way they had a few weeks ago. She was losing weight. It shouldn’t surprise him. Jamie—with her usually healthy appetite—had bare
ly eaten dinner.
Placing his palm to her cheek, he kissed her soft, full lips. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Jo underestimated how difficult it would be to face you and her past. That doesn’t mean she won’t eventually come around. Maybe then you’ll both be ready.”
“That’s just it.” She pulled away from him, taking the pool cue and walking around the billiard table. “There might not be a next time. She was in a fucking coma for three weeks and survived relatively unharmed. I’m pretty sure that cat is on her last life.” She forced a harsh laugh, and then her voice broke. “And the last two are on me. Miles, what have I done? She’s gonna end up on the street dead, and it’s all my fault. I did this.”
He rushed to her, holding her in his arms as she broke down, tears streaming down her face. Pulling her onto his lap on the sofa, he kissed her cheek, rocking her until the tears subsided. His heart broke for her. If anyone could understand what it was like to have conflicting feelings for a neglectful parent who wanted to make amends, it was him. His father had tried several times to reestablish their relationship, and he’d flatly rejected him. So how could he judge her for how she’d handled her mother’s attempt to do the same?
He’d been lost in thought, rubbing her back in small circles, when he realized she was staring at him. “What’s the matter, babe?”
“Thank you for being there for me, even when I didn’t know that’s what I wanted.” She studied his face. “Why are you so good to me? I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”
“I don’t think of it as ‘being good to you.’ The way I treat you reflects how I feel about you. I love you. Being with you makes me want to be a better person...a more authentic person. Being with you makes me happy.”
“You make me happy, too. More than I ever thought was possible for me. You’ve ruined me, you know. I can never go back to life the way it was...without you.” She smiled then pressed her lips to his.
His fingers pressed into her back, her skin warm beneath his fingertips. She raised her arms so he could strip off her T-shirt and bra. Burying his face between her firm breasts, he inhaled her maddening scent, needing to taste her. He flattened his tongue against the tight red peak as she threaded her fingers through his hair and let out a delicious little moan that made his dick ache to be inside of her. She tugged his shirt over his head and climbed to her feet. He leaned forward, lips parted, unable to take his eyes off of the sway her hips as she strutted around the billiard table, sinking the remaining balls into the leather pockets. Then she turned back and gestured with her finger for him to come to her.