I sat at my kitchen table in awe of him as he got to work ransacking my refrigerator and pulling out various pots and pans. Jude was in his own little world. I watched the way he moved, the way his arms flexed when he whisked the sauce, and the way he licked his fingers as he sampled it.
That’s what years of living alone would do to a person, I thought as I watched.
After a few more minutes, Jude plated the piping hot food and brought it over taking the seat next to me.
“I don’t know what to call this,” he said, handing me a fork. “It should be fairly edible. If not, pizza is on me.”
“Thanks for cooking,” I said, blowing on my first bite.
“Anything you need,” he said with a shrug. “It’s the least I could do since you’re letting me crash here. Figure I should earn my keep.”
“Jude, you’re family,” I reminded him. “Of course, I’d let you stay here. Don’t feel like you owe me something.”
He cocked his head, looking at me funny for a second. “There aren’t a lot of people like you where I come from. Everyone’s always out to get something. There are no favors. No free lunches. This is refreshing.” He paused and took a bite of his food chewing thoughtfully. “You’re a good girl, Evie.”
We ate our lunch in silence. It was some kind of pasta, cheese, and vegetable type thing. Not being alone was nice for a change. It’d only been a few days since Julian died, but I needed this.
“I hate to be rude,” he said after he finished his lunch and rinsed his plate off in the sink, “but I’ve got to get a little bit of work done.”
He ran into the next room and returned with his laptop cracking it open and getting to work.
“Oh, it’s fine,” I assured him, sneaking a peek at his screen as he clicked around and opened various websites and spreadsheets. Nothing jumped out at me or made me even remotely want to know more about what he did.
I finished my meal and took my plate to the sink before heading off to the living room to let him work in peace. The day was still young, and I was no longer tired. Too much sleep would do that to a girl.
Stuck in a deep, dark void and filled with unbridled energy, I sat in the quiet living room alone with my thoughts. Leaning back into the sofa, I crossed my legs, and my foot twitched with wild vigor.
“You just going to sit here in the dark?” The light switched on revealing Jude standing in the doorway with his laptop in his hand, still open.
“Kind of in my own little world these days. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Evie,” he scoffed as he took a seat beside me, his eyes still fixed on his computer screen. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.”
“Still working?”
“Almost… Okay, done.” He closed the lid to his laptop and placed it on the coffee table next to Julian’s books before leaning back, both of his muscular arms spread wide against the back of the sofa. “I like it here. I feel like a part of Julian is here. It feels like home.”
“I can tell,” I said.
“I missed out on so much of his life,” Jude mused, his voice filled with regret. “And for what?”
“It’s not your fault,” I said. “I’m sure Caroline had a hand in making sure your rift was nice and big.”
“Yeah, but I could’ve tried harder,” he said, shaking his head and staring off to the side deep in thought. “I thought we had more time.”
“So, back to this letter Julian wrote you…” I began. It’d been on my mind ever since he mentioned it. “When did he send it? How’d he know where you lived? How often did you write each other?”
Jude bit his lip, his mouth curling into a grin. “You’re a persistent little thing.”
“He was my husband,” I said, standing firm. “I deserve to know these things.”
“He emailed me about a month ago,” Jude said, drawing in a deep breath. “And we never wrote each other that much. Back and forth a couple of times. Mostly about you. Mostly making preparations.”
“Preparations?” I asked.
“Come on, Evie,” Jude said. “You knew he was dying.”
My lip trembled. “Yeah. We didn’t talk about it much, though. His sickness was a part of our everyday life, but we never talked about the fact that he was dying. Maybe we should’ve. I don’t know.”
“I don’t think he ever forgave me for leaving him,” Jude said, his voice cracking a bit, “but he never stopped loving me. We never lost that bond.”
“I think it’s so strange that he never mentioned you before,” I mused. “We told each other everything. There’s got to be a reason.”
Jude looked worried for a split second as if he thought I was second-guessing my decision to let him into my life.
“Julian was a bit mysterious,” he replied. “I think we can both agree on that.”
“Absolutely,” I said with a smile. “Can I see them? The letters?”
Jude hesitated, conflict consuming his expression. “I don’t know if I still have them all.”
“Bullshit,” I shot back. “If they’re emails, you can retrieve them. You had one in your hand last night. I want to see it.”
“Look, I won’t say ‘no,’ but I can’t say ‘yes’ quite yet,” he said, his golden eyes softening as if asking me to cut him some slack. “You have to wait. It’ll all make sense later. I promise.”
I crossed my arms dissatisfied with the entire exchange and his bullshit explanations.
Jude reached over and placed one arm on me, the one covered in a myriad of tattoos. My father always said to stay away from men with ink. They were bad news. Conflicted. Confused. Complicated.
“Trust me, Evie,” Jude said. “Okay?”
5
JUDE
“Sorry, were you waiting for me?” I asked as I emerged from Evie’s bathroom in a cloud of soap-scented steam. It was Friday morning, and she sat on the floor, her back to the wall, hugging a fluffy white towel. “I feel like we’re in college or something.”
“It’s okay,” she said. I extended my hand helping her up and hoping my towel didn’t fall from my hips. Her eyes released mine as they traveled down the length of my torso studying the tattoos that covered my chest and fanned down my sides toward my back. “You have a lot of tattoos.”
“I do,” I replied. “A man of the ink.”
She smiled cautiously, still studying my tatted skin. “It’s just… you’re like this clean-cut, California businessman, but you’re covered in ink.”
“A walking contradiction,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. “I know. I’ve heard it all before.”
She cocked her head to the side reaching out a finger and tracing the swirls and lines that ran down my left arm as if she were trying to make sense of them.
“What’s this one mean?” she asked, stopping her finger on a triple J symbol.
“Another time, Evie,” I said, smile fading as I walked past her and headed to the living room to grab my bag and change my clothes while she got ready.
I plopped down on the sofa and cracked my laptop open squeezing in a bit of work while I could.
“Working hard as always, I see,” Evie said, emerging half an hour later and taking a seat next to me. She looked different. Her hair was smooth and combed out falling around her shoulders. She’d traded in her yoga pants for a pair of jeans that hung a little too loosely off her petite frame, and her sweatshirt had been replaced with a polka-dot blouse.
“Oh, hey,” I said, forcing myself not to think about how pretty my brother’s widow looked. “Wow, you look… very nice.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I think?”
I shut my laptop and set it aside transfixed by her sheer beauty. Her big blue eyes seemed a little clearer than they were before. She looked every bit as beautiful as Julian had described in his emails.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, looking up at me through her long, dark lashes.
“I’m not,” I lied, switching
my gaze elsewhere.
“What were you working on today?” she asked, grabbing a pillow and hugging it in her lap.
“Just checking in with my business partner,” I said.
“What’s his name?”
I smiled. “Veronica.”
“Oh,” Evie said, eyebrows raised. “I don’t know why I just assumed it was a guy.”
I shrugged it off. It certainly wasn’t the first time someone had done exactly that.
“How did you guys meet?” she asked. I’d piqued her curiosity.
“UC Davis,” I replied.
“So, you had classes together?”
“We dated,” I replied blandly. “She was a real spitfire. Bright red hair. Legs up to here. Crazy eyes and a personality to match. Almost married her, but it didn’t work out. We managed to save our business, though.”
“That’s good,” she said casually, trying to hide her fascination with this dynamic. “How do you guys keep things all business and nothing personal? Isn’t that hard?”
“It’s harder for her than for me,” I said. “I’m the one who broke up with her. She just got too controlling, too obsessed with me.”
“Do you still love her, though?” Evie asked.
“We were together a long time,” I said with a nod. “We’re still friends, and of course, I love her. We had crazy chemistry. Still do. It’s just never going to work out for us.”
“Does she know that?” Evie asked, her blue eyes wide.
“Ha,” I laughed. “She still has hope, I think.”
“Anyway,” she said, shaking her head, “what’s your plan for today?”
“I was thinking of heading back home later,” I said slowly, waiting for her reaction. Just as I’d expected, her face fell. “Unless you need me to stay? I don’t want to leave you hanging.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, blinked her glassy eyes, and forced a smile. “You do what you need to do. Don’t worry about me.”
I drew a deep breath and rubbed my hand across my jaw before turning to her and flashing a smile. “I can stay another day. I’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
Her face lit up more than she probably realized. “Thank you.”
“We’re family, right?” I asked, nudging her delicate arm.
“So, what would you like to do for your last day in Haverford?” she asked.
“Hmm,” I said, rubbing my chin. “So many options. How do I decide?”
She laughed. “Seriously, though.”
“Why don’t you plan a day for us?” I suggested. “Show me around town. Show me what’s changed in the last eight years. I’m perfectly fine just bumming around today and hanging out. I don’t need to be entertained.”
6
EVIE
“Julian was going to fix this,” I said, embarrassed as I tried to lock the front door. “Or he was going to pay someone to fix it.”
The breeze swayed and rustled the leaves on the sycamore trees lining the street on that perfect June morning. The summer heat had yet to set in, and the sun was shining bright, making for perfect driving weather.
“Allow me,” Jude said as I backed away. He pulled on the door, jiggled the lock, tightened something, and suddenly the key slid into the lock and turned as if it were brand new.
“You’re quite the, uh, handyman,” I said, impressed. I never would’ve guessed Jude came from a family of privilege.
He said nothing as he turned to walk toward his car. I climbed in next to him, the leather seat warm beneath my jeans. While the car’s engine gently hummed, he rolled the windows down bringing in the scent of the neighbor’s flowering peony and lilac bushes.
We drove toward Main Street where I proceeded to point out the various shops and eateries that had closed and reopened under new management or had become yogurt shops or bars. The town was a far cry from what it had been eight years ago, and with the demise of the local appliance factory, everything had gone downhill fast.
“Don’t you ever want to leave Haverford?” Jude asked. “Live someplace else? See what it’s like?”
“I’m only twenty-two,” I said. “I’m young. A lot can happen.”
I quickly remembered that my birthday was coming up in two weeks. Julian had been planning a special surprise for my big day, but I’d never know what it was. Never in my life did I think I’d be a widow at twenty-three.
“What are you waiting for?” Jude asked. “Come to California for a visit. I guarantee you’ll never want to leave.”
Is that a genuine invitation? I wondered. Or was he saying that because that was what people say when they were trying to be nice?
“Maybe when I get a job,” I replied. “I need to save up some money.”
“Or I could fly you out,” he offered without pause. “Not a big deal. We’re family, right?”
“Oh, you don’t have to pay for me,” I said with modest insistence.
“You’re my kid brother’s sweet, young widow,” he said, placing his hand on his chest. “It’s my job to look after you now, kid.”
I hated when he called me ‘kid.’ To him, sure, it was endearing, but to me, it made me feel small. Helpless. Incapable of doing anything on my own. It was everything I didn’t want to feel.
“You don’t have to take care of me, Jude,” I said. “Despite what Julian may have asked of you, I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
“Julian probably left you a pretty penny, huh?” Jude said with a nervous laugh. I knew what his intentions were with his question.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked, drawing out each syllable and fixing him in my glare. His words were like a knife through my heart. All along, he’d been testing me. “As far as I know, all I have is our house. We never talked about money. Julian took care of everything. I didn’t ask any questions. For all I know, Caroline wiped out his bank account the day he died. I didn’t have access to his money. Never did.”
“Whoa, geez,” Jude said, placing his hand up in the air in self-defense. “I shouldn’t have said that. It was crass. I’m sorry, Evie.”
I sat stewing in the passenger seat suddenly wanting to be far away from him.
“Yep, so I guess that’s a bigger cut for you when Caroline and Arthur bite the dust someday,” I snipped wanting to get my digs in. I regretted the bite of my words the instant they left my mouth.
“Hey,” Jude said lowly. For the first time since we’d met, there was a tinge of resentment behind his hazel eyes. He looked the way Julian did anytime he had to be around his mother. “Now, that was uncalled for.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, burying my face in my hands. “It’s just that you don’t know me at all, and you’re already accusing me of being a gold digger. You’re just like Caroline.”
Jude’s car came to a screeching halt in the middle of a residential street, and he slammed his car into park before turning to face me. “Don’t ever compare me to her again. Do you understand that?”
My mouth suddenly dry, I struggled to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat. Nodding, I replied, “As long as you never make another assumption about me again. Ever.”
Jude turned away, shifted into drive, and continued ahead. “This day’s gone to shit.”
I turned away facing the window and tried to fight the wave of tears burning in my eyes. I just wanted Julian. I didn’t want to be with Jude. I didn’t want to pretend like I was going to be fine when I knew I wasn’t. I wanted to go back to the way things were before. I wanted my husband.
“Look,” Jude said, breaking the silence a few minutes later. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Take me home, please,” I said, my voice broken.
“I’m sorry, Evie,” he said again, placing his hand on my forearm and gently tugging it to get my attention. “Forgive me? Please?”
I glanced over begrudgingly. He truly looked apologetic. Jude ran his fingers across his chest in the shape of an ‘X’ as his hazel eyes pleaded for my forgivenes
s.
“I’m sorry, too,” I sighed. “Please don’t ever bring up Julian’s money around me again.”
“Never.”
7
JUDE
“She’s up,” I announced as Evie made her way to the sofa. “It’s four o’clock, you know. You damn near slept the day away.”
After our eventful morning drive, Evie needed a little space from me. She locked herself in her bedroom and slept for hours, and I dared not disturb her. I sometimes forget that she was still dealing with everything. Being around her was so easy, but then I’d gone and opened my trap and made a dipshit comment to her, and she bit my head off. Rightfully so.
Evie grabbed a knit blanket off the back of the sofa and sleepily wrapped it around herself. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”
“You needed a break from me,” I said. “I get it.”
She shook her head. “Believe it or not, it’s been kind of nice having you around these last couple days.”
“Is there anything you want to do while I’m still here?”
She shrugged as she snuggled into her blanket.
“I was thinking of going to visit Julian’s grave,” I said carefully. “Want to come?”
She scoffed, her lips turning into an angry smile. “Can’t. He’s buried in the Garner-Willoughby family plot. I’m not allowed.”
“I didn’t even think of that.” I sat up, shoulders hunched and offered her an apologetic look. “So, how will you ever be able to visit him?”
“I don’t think I will.”
“So fucking shitty.” I shook my head. “So Caroline.”
“Yep,” she said, her eyes blank as she stared ahead.
“You’re his spouse. Shouldn’t you have any say about where he’s buried? Why’d you let Caroline run the show?”
“I don’t know,” she said, hanging her head low as if she regretted her decision. “I was just in shock. I didn’t know how to handle any of that stuff. I let her do it all. Plus, I didn’t have any money. She paid for it. I didn’t have the balls to demand a say in where they put him.”
The End of Everything - Garner-Willoughby Brothers Duet Book Two Page 3