I could see it in his eyes. The disappointment, some regret, and most of all, I saw weakness there.
No. Not surprised at all that he’s not here. Checked out of his hotel. Left his daughter behind.
“He’s definitely using again,” I say softly, yet it’s a commanding statement to my sister. I know Shane. I know what I’m talking about.
Tapping my phone against my chin thoughtfully, I turn to look at Felicity.
Still watching out the window for her dad.
I dread doing it, but I need to break the news to her that he’s not coming.
But first, I need to text Jett and let him know our plans tonight aren’t going to happen. I’m going to have one very sad little girl on my hands.
♦
“Can we just go home?” Felicity whines, tipping her head back dramatically. Her gaze skips right past me and to the gym ceiling which is nothing but shadows punctuated by sparkling lights from the disco ball in the center.
I talked her into letting me bring her to this dance even though she was adamantly opposed to it from the first suggestion. This came on the heels of me telling her that her father wasn’t coming and then trying to come up with some vague reason why. The best I could come up with was that “something must have come up” and I was sure that he would contact us later.
She burst into tears and I held her on the couch while she lamented that her father didn’t love her anymore. Her memories of our past with Shane may not be clear, but she remembers what abandonment feels like. She used to cry for him two years ago, saying he didn’t love her because he wasn’t around.
Jenna and I spent a long time comforting her, reassuring her, and then finally I told her we needed to go to the dance anyway. She had friends there and she had been excited to see them all with their pretty dresses. That made her a little interested in my idea, and I finally got her agreement. Before she could change her mind, I jetted off to my room to change. I opted for a black suit with palazzo-styled pants and a cropped jacket with large buttons up the front. I wasn’t necessarily trying for a masculine “daddy” type of look, but I certainly wasn’t going to wear a dress when I wanted Felicity and her dress to shine.
We’ve only been here at the school’s gym for fifteen minutes and she’s already dissatisfied with the arrangement. I’m the only mom here and that doesn’t make her unique, it makes her weird. When we arrived, she was asked by her friends where her daddy was, and she mumbled something about him being sick and her mom came.
It broke my heart, not because I felt she was ashamed of me—I’m confident in Felicity’s love for me. But that she was so crushed by Shane’s failure not only broke my heart but enraged me beyond belief. While I’ve tried to focus on Felicity and I want her to have fun at this dance, all I can do is think about getting on the phone with my attorney tomorrow and cutting off all of Shane’s rights. I can’t watch her go through the ups and downs with him as he battles his addiction.
I just can’t.
“Mummy, please,” Felicity says and this time it’s not a whine. Her expression is somber. “I want to go home.”
“Why, honey?” I ask, reaching out the brush a lock of hair back. “Your friends were all so happy you came, and they’re over there waving to you to dance with them.”
The first thing I figured out is that at a daddy/daughter dance, it’s mostly the girls just dancing together to fun songs. Once in a while, they’ll put a slow song on for the dads to let their little girls climb on their feet, but it’s a big social playdate for the daughters.
Felicity looks over her shoulder at her friends, and true enough, two of them wave her to come over. Her lips don’t even twitch a smile back and she brings her gaze back to me. “I don’t want to stay. It’s weird I don’t have a dad here.”
“It’s been just you and me for a few years, kiddo,” I point out as I adjust my pant legs near my hips to squat down so I’m eye to eye with her. “You’ve never minded having your mum instead of a dad at your events.”
I get a dramatic sigh in return. “I know,” she drawls as if I don’t understand a damn thing. “But this is an event for dads and daughters. You know, boys dancing with girls.”
I can’t help but smile at her seven-year-old thinking, because lots of boys dance with boys and lots of girls dance with girls. And she knows this, because her great Uncle Jonas—my dad’s brother—is gay and has been with his partner for over twenty-five years. She understands that love is love.
But I get what she’s saying.
“Mummy… the other girls have their daddies here and they’re all handsome and dressed up. Just like Prince Charming. I’m sorry, but you’re just not the same.”
I turn my hand and cup her jaw from underneath, leaning in to whisper. “I know, and I truly understand. Some things you just need a dad for, huh?”
She nods, her eyes getting a little wet with tears that I finally get it. There are just some things I can’t fulfill, and while that stings, I also understand it.
I straighten, my wide pant legs dropping down around my heels. Holding my hand out to her, I say, “Let’s go home. We’ll stop for ice cream on the way, okay?”
For the first time since I had to break the bad news that her daddy wasn’t coming, Felicity smiles. She nods and presses her palm against mine.
We turn toward the doors that lead into a small lobby, and, beyond that the parking lot. I take no more than one step and I’m grinding to a dead halt.
Because coming through those same doors is Jett.
My eyes roam over him in disbelief. He’s wearing a dark gray charcoal suit, so well fit that I know it’s custom-tailored. I happen to know his closet has several in different shades of black, gray, dark blue, pinstripe, and even a dark taupe. He’s freshly shaven and in his hand is a big bouquet of flowers.
Felicity doesn’t see him at first as she’s actually looking over her shoulder and waving farewell to her friends. But when I come to a stop, forcing her to do the same, she turns and sees Jett.
“Mummy… look,” she says in awe. “I wonder what Jett is doing here.”
I know what he’s doing here.
That big, beautiful man got dressed up, left the relaxing comfort of his condo on a rare night off, and is stepping into Shane’s shoes so Felicity has an amazing experience. He must have done this upon getting my text canceling the evening with him.
I had been short and to the point. Shane didn’t show up. I’m going to take her to the dance so I can’t come over tonight.
I didn’t have to go into any type of detail. Jett knew my feelings about Shane and how I lived every day waiting for him to fall off the wagon. He had no need for me to point out how devastated Felicity was. He’s seen firsthand how excited she’s been since he returned to her life. Jett has even helped to foster that with her.
And I know he understood when he merely replied, Go be that awesome mom I know you to be. You and I have all the time in the world. Felicity is more important.
His text had touched me deeply. He put no pressure on me to cater to him. He made sure I knew that he knew where my priority would always be. And he reassured me that he would be there many times over after this night.
It was perfect.
I didn’t think he could do any more for me.
And yet… he’s here, and in a million years I didn’t know he would ever do something like this.
It’s the kindest act I’ve ever known. It confirms what I’ve suspected as each day goes by. That Jett is so very special.
And while I’m touched, I’m humbled to have him. I know a woman couldn’t hope for better… but it also scares the shit out of me.
Because the last time I cared for a man like this, he let me down and it nearly destroyed me. I’m not sure I want to risk that again.
At the same time, I can’t imagine letting him go. This is made more so as he approaches Felicity, holding out the flowers. “I heard you were in need of a date to this dance.” She takes the
flowers, stares at them with big eyes, and then tips her head back to look at Jett. “Is it cool if I fill in for your dad?”
She just nods, mouth hanging open slightly in shock.
At that moment, a slow song comes on. Something new that I don’t recognize. The DJ says, “Okay dads… grab your pretty daughters and get them on the dance floor.”
Jett hasn’t even looked at me once. He merely takes the flowers from Felicity and hands them off to me, before offering his hand to my daughter. She takes it with a giggle and he turns to lead her to the dance floor.
Pressing a hand to my heart, which is thumping with tenderness and fear mixed together, I watch Jett step up to a plate I never asked him to get near.
My hand flies out, snags his suit jacket at the arm. He finally gives me his eyes.
I lean in, press my lips to the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.”
When he pulls back, he winks. “My pleasure.”
CHAPTER 23
Emory
“Going for a third slice of pizza, huh?” Jenna observes snarkily, as I do indeed lean forward from my perch on the edge of the couch and nab another.
I don’t respond to my sister, rather I take a bite of the New York styled piece of heaven into my mouth and wash it down with a swig of beer.
It’s sister night and we don’t get them often these days. But our go-to food for hanging out is New York style pizza and our favorite beer, and tonight is such a night. Felicity is doing a sleepover at a classmate’s house whose mom coincidentally also works for the Vengeance organization in finance. We’ve become decent friends and the girls even closer since they’re both in the same first grade class.
Jett is at an away game and while the game doesn’t start for a few hours, we have plans to watch it. We just decided to knock the pizza part out of the way as we were both starving, but we’ll continue the beers. It’s a Saturday night and I don’t have to pick up Felicity until noon tomorrow. I can afford to get buzzed tonight with my sister.
Hell, maybe we’ll get drunk.
“Did you call Shane’s parents today?” Jenna asks. It’s the first time we’ve been able to really talk all day as Jenna had some editing deadlines to meet and I went into the office for a bit. Then I ran some errands which included stops at the dry cleaner, grocery store, and the pharmacy.
But yes, I had talked to Shane’s parents since my voicemails and texts to him went unanswered. While I was very confident he was on a drug bender somewhere, I wanted to know if his parents had heard from him in the off chance something terrible had happened—not that using drugs again wasn’t terrible.—He always stayed in touch with them, no matter his circumstances.
“Mary heard from him this morning as a matter of fact,” I say flatly. “She assured me he was fine and then yammered on about how great he was doing.”
“Is he back in L.A.?” she inquires, setting her own slice of pizza back in the box and leaning forward in her chair.
I shake my head. “Mary said he was still here in Phoenix, but he could have been lying to her. Most likely was lying to her, since he told her he was fine and never mentioned bailing on Felicity.”
Jenna makes a low sound of disgust because this is all typical Shane. “Did you tell her he didn’t show up for the dance, checked out of his hotel, and isn’t returning calls?”
“Of course, I did.” My voice is bitter, and the pizza doesn’t look as appetizing. I toss my half slice down into the box as well.
“Let me guess.” Jenna holds up her hands dramatically, doing a really fantastic imitation of Mary’s uppity voice defending her son. “Oh, Emory… I’m sure you’re worrying for nothing.”
I can’t help but snicker. That was Mary’s classic answer to all my worries about Shane. She’s a parent that cannot see through the veneer to the problems below. While she always supported him through rehab, she never really felt his problems were severe enough to warrant it. She was always willing to just believe this was a minor issue. The main reason Mary never gave Shane’s addictions much credence was because she thought it reflected poorly on her and the family name.
“I should have known better,” I mutter before taking another sip of my beer and leaning back into the cushions. I rest the bottle on my belly and pick at the label that’s wet with condensation. “I had actually started to trust him. Trust that he really wanted to be a part of Felicity’s life and was ready to get his own in order.”
“There’s nothing wrong with having hope,” Jenna assures me. “Believing people can be better.”
My eyes slide over to meet hers. “Jett said that to me about Shane when I wasn’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Same exact words. It’s okay to hope it will be okay.”
“It’s good advice,” Jenna says with a pointed nod at me.
I widen my eyes with innocence. “What? I do have hope it will be okay. I hope that Shane is fine and that he and Felicity can have a relationship, and that when—”
“Just stop,” Jenna says, showing me the palm of her hand. “You don’t hope that, because in your heart of hearts, you’ve already written Shane off. You’re just trying to do the right thing for Felicity by giving her access to her dad as appropriate. Clearly, the question is, is it appropriate anymore? When I say it’s okay to hope for it to be okay, and Jett says the same, we mean it’s okay to hope for the best but we also mean it’s okay to be prepared for the worst.”
“I am prepared for the worst,” I assure her. “I had hoped it would work out with Shane and Felicity, but I’m not surprised it hasn’t, and not sure it will again.”
“And that’s understandable,” my sister reassures me. “Just don’t let it close you off to the possibility of it again. Shane may very well be in and out of rehab Felicity’s entire life. It’s a horrible potential for her life. But you can always hope that it will be okay, and then surround her with so much love and stability in case it isn’t.”
My sister is younger than me, but she isn’t immature in her wisdom. She’s been through so much pain and has battled things far harder than I have, and I always take her advice to heart. I hear her, I’m just not feeling all that hopeful or benevolent these days where Shane is concerned.
But I don’t want to argue with her. She might say it’s okay to hope for things to be okay, but I think it’s okay for me to assume they won’t be and plan from there. It’s called protecting my child—and myself—from future pain.
“Let’s talk about something else,” I say and to show her that I’m not bothered by any of this, I reach forward and set my beer on the table, taking my pizza slice in hand again.
“Let’s talk about Jett,” Jenna says with an almost lewd smile on her face. “Hasn’t he turned out to be quite the burning hunk of surprise?”
I roll my eyes at my sister, but I get what she means. “He definitely isn’t what I thought he’d be.”
“I’m glad you gave him a chance,” she says, ignoring her pizza for the time being and crossing her legs Indian style as she settles back into her chair. “What he did for Felicity last night was really sweet.”
“Mmm,” I hum low in my throat, a concurrence of sorts.
She frowns at me. “You don’t think what he did was sweet?”
“I think it was too sweet,” I reply candidly. Because I’ve been thinking about that moment he walked into the gym. I caught sight of him and had this major realization wash through me that he’s the one I could lose my heart to like no other.
“Why is that a problem?” she asks, head tilted.
“I’m afraid to get hurt again,” I tell her honestly. Jenna is one I’d never hide my feelings from.
I couldn’t.
Not when I’d sat by her as she recovered from her horrible burns and accepted every wretched truth that came out of her mouth. It tore my soul to hear how much she was hurting, how much she wanted the pain to end, and how she thought her life was over. Jenna was truthful with me—not our parents—about her darkest thoughts
and because of that, I will always be honest with her.
“Why would you ever think Jett would hurt you?” she asks.
“I didn’t think Shane ever would,” I mutter, because I can’t give her one solid reason Jett has given me to think that. I’m operating solely on past hurts.
Jenna makes a sound deep in her throat that had it come out her mouth, might have been the word “bullshit”. Instead, she says, “Shane and Jett are nothing alike and you know that. Shane has a drug problem, and not that it’s an excuse, that is also an illness that prevents him from being responsible and holding commitments. That is nothing like Jett.”
My sweet, strong sister is speaking the truth, and it’s something I’ve told myself over and over again the last two days as I’ve been fighting feelings of fear and a sense of impending doom. Shane triggered all of this, I know. Just as I know it’s something I have to reason my way through.
As if he knew he might be the subject of discussion, my phone starts ringing and I see Jett’s name pop up on my screen. He’s probably at the arena in Los Angeles, well into pre-game prep, but his call doesn’t surprise me. He has always managed to reach out just for a quick hello at some point before a game starts. He does it to give me the opportunity to wish him luck, knowing I’ll never be the one to call him because I don’t want to disturb him. I told him that before, and since then, he calls me so I know he’s got the time for a quick chat.
“Hey, you,” I say as I answer the phone, making my tone light and flirty. I don’t want him to hear anything in my voice that will clue him in to me and Jenna having a serious conversation about my doubts and fears.
“Just calling to check in real quick,” he says, which is code for I have time for you, Emory. I want you to know that I’m thinking of you just before I step out onto the ice. Damn him for that snagging of my heart as well. “What did you do today?”
I give him the quick rundown, ending with, “And now I’m eating pizza and drinking beer with Jenna. We’re settled in to watch the game.”
Jett Page 18