Yesterday Is Gone

by HJ Bellus

  Her sobs rattle between us. When they subside, she begins to speak, and it ruins me. “Shayna is pregnant. She announced it in the middle of the grocery store today along with bashing our daughter.”

  My fingers dig into her hips. The anger releasing through them overwhelms my senses. “Impossible.”

  “You never fucked her?” she asks, keeping her face tucked to my chest. The crass words coming from her lips take me back.

  “I did.” There’s no way in hell I’d lie to her. “But not once without a condom.”

  I feel like a damn fifteen year old explaining my sex life to my parents. It sucks all the same. A shame like no other washes over me, one I deserve but sure in the hell don’t want to experience.

  “Cody has a video,” she stutters out.

  “Babe, I’m not putting the puzzle pieces together. Far from it. What in the fuck is going on?”

  My cellphone dings on the ground. I don’t want to let go of her but am forced to with my thirst to put this puzzle together. I grab the phone and steady myself to press play.

  “She’s not pregnant. It was a lie. Cody’s lay from last night shared it with him. He swore he didn’t know until then and has been trying to get hold of you but was slammed at the bar. Shayna lied. She’s vicious. I guess some things never change.”

  I press play, turning up the volume on the video. It’s the women’s bathroom in Cody’s bar, Shayna front and center peering at herself in the mirror. The camera moves, making the scene come in and out of focus, but the volume of voices are clear as day.

  “That was so close. He damn near saw me drinking a Jack and Coke. I grabbed that bottle so damn fast,” Shayna announces.

  “Close call,” a random voice adds.

  “I grabbed that bottle of water like I was on fire!” Her evil laughter drifts throughout. “I have a doctor lined up that will tell Jessie I had a miscarriage. It seems he has a really bad marriage, and all it took was three times on my knees to convince him to help me out. He’ll fake ultrasounds, heartbeats, and all the appointments up until five months. You damn well know Jessie will never turn his back on that.”

  My phone crashes on cement pavers before the video ends. I’m forced to take steps back from Jules. The rage streaming through me is out of control. Shayna never once wanted to come to my parents’ home for dinner, we never once had unprotected sex, and I never fucking once told her I loved her. I was pacified and enjoying it, and now I’m fucked because of those actions.

  “I get it,” Jules’ voice bursts through. “You built this for her, bought her a ring, and was ready to commit to Shayna until you learned you had a daughter.”

  “A ring?” I jerk my gaze up to hers. “Hers?”

  This time Jules is stepping back. Smart move on her part because the last shred of control I’ve retained disappears. Her lower lip trembles, only pissing me off further. I’m not sure what else I have to fucking do to get through to this woman. She lets a few small-town whispers of gossip get to her, and she’s ready to chuck us under the bus.

  “The only fucking ring I know about it is the same one I bought our senior year. It was meant to be on your finger. Then I went and fucked everything up. I’ve carried it with me ever since. Shayna saw it in my dresser drawer and wasn’t happy at all. That’s the only ring she ever glimpsed while with me. There was never even a sliver of a promise of one from me to her. I screwed it all up years ago, and now it’s evident there’s nothing I can do to make it better or muster up a healthy relationship between us.”

  “Jessie, it freaked me out,” she stammers.

  I bend over and pick up a two by four, slinging it right through the one and only window I’d installed. The glass shatters into pieces on impact, like my soul and heart does. Ironic as fuck. The blood, sweat, and tears I’ve put into this place are my demise and downfall. An evil laugh escapes me. There’s nothing else to do.

  I throw my hands up in the air after my tirade. “Guess that’s all I do is freak you out, and that’s all on me. I’ve caused this and now have to live with the damage. There’s not one other thing I can do to convince you otherwise. It’s like you’re digging for a reason to run, Jules, and I can’t stop you. So do what you will. Know I’ll always be a part of Whit’s life. I’d give anything to be a part of yours, but you can’t accept it.”

  I turn my back on her and tromp over to the black mailbox with no name on it. It’s never even received a piece of mail. It’s ready to do its job yet has stood barren for years. I rip out the floor plans of the house along with the tattered page of the magazine from years ago.

  “Here you go.” I fling the paperwork her way. They scatter up into the winds and fall to the ground like a heap of broken ashes. “It was yours from day one. It’s always been yours. I’ll stay at the place I bought when I came back to town. You won’t have to worry about me being around you. I’d like to still take Whit to dance and be a part of her life. Max will continue to come by and help on the farm.”

  I turn my back on Jules, crushed and devastated. I’ve put everything into correcting my wrongs to discover it’s impossible. The frustration level has imploded into the point of walking away before more words are aimed, ammo tagging the heart as a bullseye.

  “Jessie,” she cries out.

  I stop but don’t turn around, waiting for what else she has to say.

  “It all got to me. You never showed me this. Kept it a secret. I can’t do this.”

  Her words obliterate that bullseye. I refuse to show weakness. “I hear you loud and clear, Jules. I’ll pick up Whit for dance and practice for the talent show.”

  Chapter 21

  Jules

  “Momma, you need to SVRP for my birthday party.” Whit slaps a glittered invitation in front of me.

  I snap the lid of my MacBook shut and stare at the damn invite. I haven’t spoken to Jessie since the great disaster I shouldn’t mention. The healing wounds were torn open into seeping, raw scars that will never fade. One damn visit into Boone and my world imploded. How in the hell am I supposed to stay here? I have to for Nana and Whit’s sake. But my heart and soul can’t take it. Overreaction at its best.

  I drag my fingertips over the sparkly ballerina, bringing the invitation to myself. Even though Whit’s birthday is in January, Jessie has planned an epic party for her. I get it. He’s making up for years that he’s missed out on. He deserves this time, but it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

  “I will, sweet baby.” I smile over at her.

  Whit leans against me, flipping open the invitation. “You have to text this number, and there are gonna be seven ponies there and all my friends from dance.”

  I muster up a smile. “This is so amazing, baby girl. I can’t wait.”

  I pluck up my cell phone and pretend to RSVP my spot to Jessie. It’s all a façade. He damn well knows I’ll be there even though my stubborn heart protests everything about it.

  “Good job, Mommy. Daddy will be here to pick me up for dance.”

  Her words are cut off when footsteps sound on the porch. Whit claps her hands together.

  “Max!” She runs over to the counter, snagging his plate of warmed-up food.

  Whit has taken to Max since the day he paid for overpriced lemonade. She’s been attached to his hip when he comes over to work. He asked her one night what she was having for dinner, and of course Whit divulged all the information. When she asked Max what he was having and he shrugged, Whit took it upon herself to make him a plate every night.

  “Watch for your dad,” I holler as the front screen door slams shut.

  I haven’t been able to write a single word since that night at Jessie’s. A brick wall stares me right in the face. I can’t even get out the word “the.” It’s pathetic and only adding to my anxiety. It’s a billowing cloud of despair threatening to drown me, and all I want to do is run as fast as I can.

  “I will,” Whit hollers back.

  I rise from my seat and go to the front porch t
o watch my little ball of joy flit out to the field calling Max’s name. The tall pasture grass tugs at her tutu but doesn’t stop her. She loves it in Boone. Whit was always happy and content in California, but here she thrives. It’s the rhythm of my life I’m still struggling with.

  I lean on the pole of the porch, crossing my arms and watching her as she goes. It’s the sweet innocence of her every move that inspires me and takes me back to a time when my heart beat for the same land. A smile graces my lips, and I relax.

  The familiar roar of Jessie’s truck nears me. I don’t glance towards the ruckus, choosing to focus on Whit and her love for life. She hands Max the plate of food. He takes a seat on a log, ignoring the moving of the hand lines for a few minutes while he devours the plate of tacos and Spanish rice Whit brought him.

  Max breaks my heart. Jessie wasn’t exaggerating about his home life. The boy has nothing yet lives like he has it all. He works his ass off and appreciates everything given to him.

  The moment Whit spots Jessie, she’s sprinting to him with her little arms pumping as fast as they can. She leaps into her daddy’s chest with her joyous squeals echoing all around the border of the ranch.

  Inspiration strikes me at the core of my soul. My roots. This book I’ve been banging my head on the wall about has to go back to where my story started. My fingers need to pound out the happy, ugly, and every other memory in between. This tale deserves to bleed on the pages of the greatest story I’ve ever written.

  Several more minutes pass before I turn to go back into the house. I flip open the lid of my MacBook. It was once my enemy and now my best friend.

  Yesterday is Gone by J.J. Jones.

  Once the first word fills the screen, it doesn’t stop. My fingers grow numb, and my mind and soul are lost weaving the tale together. With each word and paragraph formed, hatred and insecurity vanish from my heart. I don’t hear Jessie’s truck roar back out of the driveway taking Whit to dance nor do I acknowledge Max when he tells Nan and I goodnight.

  I stretch my back and crane my neck to the side. I have no idea how much time has passed since Jessie and Whit returned from dance. I can barely hear his deep baritone voice reading her a bedtime story. I creep up the stairs. I’ve never missed an opportunity to tuck her in no matter how hot the words flow.

  “Daddy?”

  Whit snuggles into Jessie’s side. I drop my head on the door jamb, watching the two of them.

  “Yeah?” He snaps shut the picture book, resting it on the nightstand.

  “I thought you and Momma were gonna be boyfriend and girlfriend, and now you don’t even talk.”

  He runs a hand through his dark hair. It’s longer than usual, same as his beard, but I know the beard has a purpose with football season.

  “It’s…uh. I mean we are, but—”

  “Daddy.” Whit reaches up, stroking his beard. “Just tell me the truth. I’m scared things are breaking apart again.”

  Jessie clears his throat. “Your mom and I had an argument. We are figuring things out. All you need to know is that I’ll never give up on you or your mom because my love runs that deep.”

  She nods and balls herself up further into him. I take this moment to step into the room silently. I don’t say a word as I take my spot opposite Jessie. We’ve done this several times since I’ve returned with Whit, our prized possession, poised between us.

  Whit’s tiny fingers find my hair, dragging lazy patterns through it. I kiss her cheek and relish in the sound of her calling me Momma. The poor girl is wiped like every other night in Boone. The girl is non-stop from gardening, helping cook, bouncing in and out of the house with Max, and everything in between.

  “Love you, Whit,” I whisper into her ear.

  “Love you, Momma and Daddy.” A ghost of a whisper rushes into the air. “I love all of this. Thank you.”

  And the idea of the book is cemented permanently in my heart. The words are powerful, and the strings of the story are everlasting. A legacy that deserves an endless tale.

  I keep my gaze on Whit’s chubby cheek, neglecting to peer at Jessie. I feel him inching on my skin even though he’s not touching me. Once I’m satisfied Whit is out and I can’t take the temptation of Jessie’s scent any longer, I creep out of bed.

  “I can go,” he whispers.

  The sound of his voice is a cannon straight to my healing heart. I shake my head then realize he can’t make out the movement in the dark.

  “I have work to do. You can stay as long as you’d like,” I whisper right back.

  Every inch of my skin craves to crawl back into bed and snuggle up into his scent. I have something I need to do before I’ll ever be able to move on. My story deserves to be released from the clutches of my soul and live on forever. That’s when I will be totally free.

  ***

  “This is fucking weird,” I say, turning to Nana.

  “Watch your damn language. A lady never drops fuck like it’s natural.” She swats my forearm.

  “Fucking really?” I banter back.

  Nana does her best to stifle her smile, but it only lasts for a few seconds before she laughs. “It’s weird. I won’t lie, but completely amazing for Whit.”

  That’s when I see her. She’s dressed in a neon teal dress with all the tutu a little girl could ask for. A crooked crown adorns the top of her curls, and a dab of mud smears her cheek. Jessie is at her side passing out favor bags to all her friends from dance. The scene is too much. It doesn’t make me nervous or give me the anxiety to run. Nope, it grounds me in place no matter how awkward it feels.

  “Momma!” Whit waves her hand at me.

  I wave right back and make my way over to her, dodging all the gifts and children. I didn’t even know there were this many children in Boone. I’m guessing Jessie paid off his football team to round them up.

  “You look so pretty.” I drop to my knees, spreading my arms wide open.

  Her chin trembles as she barrels into my chest.

  “Whoa, what’s up? This is your party.” I run soothing circles on her back.

  “I wanted my momma here, and you and Daddy don’t talk anymore. I was scared,” she rushes out.

  “Hey. You know I’ll always be here.” I can feel Jessie right next to us. “Your daddy and I are fine. We had to work through some things.”

  I pause and swallow down my pride. “Actually, Momma had to work on some things.”

  I fall back to my butt, pulling her into my lap, and Jessie follows. I reach over and grab his hand, offering a gentle smile.

  “It’s your birthday party that Daddy put together for you. Look at all of these friends from dance, and even Max is here. So dry up those tears and go enjoy your party, baby girl.” I kiss the top of her head.

  Jessie grip tightens around my hand in reassurance. Whit takes her time gathering herself together.

  “Whit,” Max hollers. “Time for the cupcake walk.”

  A few other football players flank him. Whit rushes toward Max with her near meltdown avoided.

  “How many laps are they getting out of by doing this?” I ask, keeping my gaze focused on Whit, who hops on a number and waits for the music to play.

  “None.” Jessie gruff voice melts me.

  I look over at him, shading my eyes with my free hand. “Really?”

  He nods. “Max and a few of the others saw me in the damn Barbie section at the store with a cart filled with everything from pink to purple and glitter covering my beard. I was way out of my element, and they stepped up to help. A few of them have younger sisters, so they took right over.”

  I drop his hand and twist on the grass, facing Jessie. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t. Not today,” he replies.

  That hurt. I deserve it. “No, it needs to be said right now. I freaked out. It all became too much, and instead of believing in us, I let the past control me.”

  “I can’t do…”

  I scoot closer, cutting him off. “I’ve found help and have b
een pouring out the regret and hatred. It’s helped me, Jessie. I’m sorry. I need to say that. You deserve an apology.”

  Jessie’s body slumps in relief. The next thing I know he’s tugging me into his lap, wrapping his arms low around my waist.

  “Thank fuck,” he whispers in my ear. “I love you so damn much, Jules, and was ready to give you as much time as you needed.”

  “Thank you.” I turn my head to whisper into his lips.

  “Your papa always told me you had the spirit of a wild horse. And it took time and distance to gain your trust or at least wait for you to cool down. I remembered our long talks in the barn throughout the years I waited for you to come back and grounded myself in them.”

  Hot tears sear the corners of my eyes. He may not be here in our lives, but Papa’s lessons will always live among all of us.

  “I’d like to go see the house tonight, Jessie.” I drag a hand through his beard. “I remember the day we laid tangled up in the bed of your truck flipping through that magazine picking out our future house.”

  “Me too.” He runs his nose along my neck.

  “I can’t believe you’re building it.”

  “It kept me grounded, Jules. It was a way to pass the days waiting for you.”

  I relax into the safety of his embrace, growing drunk on his scent and watching our daughter live up every moment of her party. I wave at her when Max picks her up and settles her on top of a pristine white pony.

  “You know you’re never going to get her off that pony, right?” I break the silence between Jessie and me.

  “She melts my heart, Jules.”

  “Mine too,” I whisper.

  We watch as her tutu flies in the wind, and she squeals with laughter as the pony trails endless circles. Max, ever the protector of the birthday princess, remains walking at her side. Whit waves to her nana, Carolyn, and Tim as she passes each time. They snap endless pictures of her. I remain cuddled in Jessie’s lap, taking in the whole scene. It’s natural as can be, and at this moment I can absorb it with all my walls down.