by Lucy Score
That brought the corners of her lips up a little bit. Cardona was a funny guy. In the years between Jax’s disappearance and reappearance, Joey had been invited to the poker table more than once and she’d enjoyed kicking the sheriff’s ass when she had the opportunity. He was a decent poker player, had a smile like a Ken doll, and a master’s in organizational leadership. Why couldn’t she have fallen for a guy like him?
Why did her heart have to belong to Jackson “Love ‘Em and Crush ‘Em Like Bugs” Pierce?
“You’re a funny guy, Cardona.”
“Thanks, but looks aren’t everything. My mama always told me I’d grow into my nose.”
“A real riot. How is it the B.C. hasn’t lined you up with some cute candle-making hippie by now?”
“I’ve threatened to arrest every single one of them on disturbing the peace charges if they try it.”
“Nice try. This is Blue Moon. Disturbing the peace arrest records go on resumes here.”
“Every time I get trapped in a conversation with one of the B.C. members, I fake an emergency and run away like an Olympic sprinter.” He glanced down at his phone.
Joey looked around her. Every one in the studio with the exception of her was staring intently at their phones, typing away with their thumbs.
“This is what’s wrong with society,” Joey grumbled.
“What’s that?” Donovan asked, shoving his phone in his gym bag.
“Look at everyone texting and Facebooking and whatever else they do on a phone.”
Donovan looked guilty. “They’re probably just turning their phones off for class. So, are you going this weekend?”
“What’s this weekend?” Joey asked, still distracted by the thoughts of phones taking over the world.
“The Sit-In. It’s Saturday.”
“God, no. I have too much work to do.” And zero desire to surround herself by an entire town who probably now knew her shame. Besides, Jax would be there. You didn’t live in Blue Moon and miss this event.
Nope. She’d stay at home with Waffles and work. With Apollo’s stud fee finally decided on, she could start reaching out to potential clients for spring.
“That’s a shame,” Donovan said. “I hear it’s going to be even better than last year.”
“Last year the popcorn stand caught fire in the gym. The school smelled like burnt popcorn until summer.”
“Nowhere to go, but up!” Donovan shrugged.
* * *
Joey, feeling marginally less murderous after yoga, headed home. The heater in her pick-up pumped out warm air in an endless battle against the upstate New York winter. She’d avoided Gia’s well-meaning invitation to go get a drink and talk about the surprise baby shower they were planning for Summer, which was code for “drag information out of you in the name of friendship and then offer completely useless platitudes like ‘forgive and forget.’”
Nope. Joey was going to go home, curl up with her dog and stare at the TV until it was time for bed, at which point she would go upstairs and stare at her bedroom ceiling and try not to think of all the amazing orgasms she’d recently enjoyed in said bed. Yeah, life was just really freaking grand right now.
When she got home the first thing that tipped her off to a break in was the fact that Waffles was enjoying a massive chew bone the size of a cattle leg. The second thing that tipped her off was the note on the microwave that said “Open Me.”
Inside was a Shorty’s to-go box with a burger and onion rings. This was clearly the work of Jax.
She really needed to start locking her doors.
The next note was on the counter and directed her to look at her coffee table. She was tempted to ignore it and just go upstairs and wash away her troubles in the shower. She could just throw the burger in the garbage and warm up whatever the hell leftovers she had in her fridge.
Or she could just eat the burger. No one would have to know. It would be a shame to waste a perfectly good, still warm Shorty’s burger.
She took the takeout box over to her couch, furtively glancing out front and back windows to make sure no one was witnessing her dinner surrender. Satisfied that it was just her and Waffles, Joey flopped down on the couch.
On the coffee table in front of her was a fat envelope topped with a bottle of bourbon and a ridiculous coffee mug plastered with horses and hearts.
There was another note rolled up in the mug.
Joey,
I saw this horse mug and it made me think of you, especially since the last horse mug I gave you shattered against the wall when you threw it at me. Consider this a replacement. The booze is to accompany what’s in the envelope and your burger. Please don’t throw out your burger to spite me. That would be sacrilege.
I’ve been wracking my brain trying to come up with the right way to tell you how sorry I am that I’ve hurt you again and remind you of how much I love you. But I realized that until you know everything about that night and after, there’s no chance of that ever happening. So here it is. My screenplay. Our story.
I’ll be in touch.
Love always,
Your Jax
Joey put down the note and slouched as low as she could on the cushion. All the answers to the questions she’d been asking for nearly a decade were neatly packaged before her. And yet she hesitated.
What if the answers she got weren’t forgivable?
Waffles gave up on his bone and hopped up on the couch next to her, his bi-colored eyes watching her pitifully hoping for a bite of burger.
Her indecisiveness lasted exactly two seconds longer when she reached for the burger and the folder.
“Screw it. Right, Waffles?”
Waffles’ tail thumped on the couch as he looked at her adoringly.
* * *
One hundred and ten pages and two fingers of bourbon later, Joey swiped at perhaps the hundredth tear as it sluiced its way down her cheek.
Her guts had been ripped out and shoved back in upside down. He’d given her the answers she’d needed in a way that was wholly Jax. Gutted, she was nowhere nearer to a solution than she had been before she came home that night. But at least she had her answers.
She hadn’t expected to learn so much about the course of their relationship. How long he’d loved her. How long he’d noticed her and yet talked himself out of making a move on the girl his brothers thought of as a sister, the girl his parents thought of as a daughter. Instead he kept her at arm’s length until he couldn’t be without her for one more day. To see the longing that she’d so acutely felt growing up mirrored in his words was indescribable.
And what he saw in her? What he poured into her character? Strength, beauty, single-minded determination. In those pages, she saw herself as Jax saw her.
It clutched at her heart to read about the accident from his point of view, the guilt and the fear, of feeling responsible for nearly destroying the one thing you valued above all else. It hadn’t been an easy decision to live with, she learned. Jax hadn’t just walked away without a backward glance. He’d never stopped thinking of her, stalking her online with news alerts and social media, loving her. Did that help? Knowing that they’d needlessly wasted eight years because of a decision she still didn’t agree with?
She felt raw and open, like a fresh wound. Knowing for certain now that he had loved her as deeply and expansively as she did him, it loosened something around her heart. Something that had constricted years ago. Another wall, another lock.
But what did that mean for the end of their story?
Instead of the final pages of his screenplay, he’d included a photocopy of his father’s account of the evening. A story from three sides that still added up to men who thought they knew better than she did.
It was galling. It was heartbreaking. And somehow, through Jax’s own typed words she could begin to comprehend the why. It was hard to see past her own anger, but the words of two Pierce men had slowly blazed a trail through the hurt.
She wasn’t sure if sh
e was ready to feel anything other than anger toward Jax. Except for a strong desire to find out how his screenplay ended. That she could admit to being curious about.
Joey picked up John’s essay again, stared at the handwriting of a man long lost to this world. He’d seen something deep and enduring in her relationship with Jax. A foundation and a prison. Had she ever thought of their relationship as a prison? Had Jax?
She’d been so certain then that their futures had been twined together. That Jax was a given in her life. And then when he was gone, her foundation cracked and she rebuilt it slowly, independently, determined to never again build a life around someone else. She did what she wanted. She went after her dreams with dogged determination and she built this life and these walls that would keep her safe.
Yet, once again, she’d let Jax in. And, once again, she’d been rocked. That had to mean something. There wouldn’t be so much hurt if they were supposed to be, would there?
There was one person she could ask.
She picked up her phone and dialed.
* * *
Mr. Snuffles was pawing at the door of Phoebe’s townhouse until Franklin opened it. The little dog sniffed Joey’s boot, sneezed, and ran back into the kitchen.
At least nothing green and slimy had flown out of his nose.
“Sorry for bothering you guys so late,” Joey told Franklin as he took her coat.
Franklin, dressed in flannel pajamas and slippers, tut-tutted. “You’re always welcome, Joey.”
The ever-present moving boxes had been neatly stacked along the wall behind the dining table. Phoebe and Franklin’s quest to move in together seemed like it was taking longer than a college education. But Calvin was ready to break ground on their new home in a sunny pasture back on the farm. And soon Franklin would be watching TV or whipping up a gourmet Italian meal in those pajamas in their brand new house. Probably with grandkids and granddogs underfoot.
Phoebe, in fleecy pajama bottoms decorated with pink flamingos, bustled out of the kitchen and wrapped Joey in a hug. “It’s good to see you, sweetie.”
“I’ll start the tea,” Franklin said, winking at Phoebe and dropping a kiss on her cheek.
Phoebe blushed prettily.
“Oh, crap. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Joey asked, embarrassed that she might be crashing a pajama party.
“No, dear. We finished anything worth interrupting before you called,” Phoebe winked.
Joey smirked. Love knew no age, that was for sure.
“Come on in and make yourself comfortable,” Phoebe said, leading the way into her living room. “You sounded upset on the phone.”
Joey sank down on the couch. “I was. Am. I’m sure you heard by now about…everything.”
Phoebe nodded. “I heard Jax and your father had a bit of a run-in the other day.”
“Did you know Jax is writing a screenplay about me?”
Phoebe’s eyes widened behind her glasses. “I had no idea! Oh, I bet it’s wonderful!”
Joey rolled her eyes. “Yeah, let’s put the maternal pride on hold for a second. He started it before he came back and has it sold to a studio already. It’s our whole story. From kindergarten on up to present.”
“He let you read it.”
Joey nodded. “Most of it. He kept the ending. But he did include John’s write-up of the accident.”
“Smart boy,” Phoebe said proudly.
Joey shot her a look.
“Sorry,” Phoebe grinned. “But you have to admit that’s a pretty creative apology. Giving you the other two sides to what happened the night of the accident.”
“Yeah, yeah. Creative. Whatever. How did you forgive John for letting him go and not telling you?”
Now it was Phoebe’s turn to roll her eyes. “Oh, Joey. That situation taught me more about love and forgiveness than any other I’ve ever been in. I was heartbroken that Jax left and I was so angry at John for letting him.”
Phoebe shook her head at the memories. “I felt betrayed by them both for quite some time.”
“How did you get unbetrayed?”
“I had to trust that John felt that the decision was the right one. Now that’s completely different from agreeing with the decision. Because to this day I don’t. But I knew deep down, John never would have let him go if he thought it wouldn’t be in Jax’s best interest.”
Joey frowned, her brain contemplating the areas of gray. “So even though you thought he was wrong, you didn’t bash his head in with a frying pan?”
Phoebe nodded. “Exactly. Oh, I was furious with him when he came clean. To know that he’d driven Jax to the bus station and given him money and just sent him off into the unknown. Knowing he got to say good-bye and I didn’t have that chance? There were many times I picked up the metaphorical frying pan. But what finally got through to me is the pain that John carried for that decision, even though he still believed he was right.”
Joey gave a half-hearted “Hmm.”
“You and your mother and I would have solved the entire thing in seconds if they’d bothered to bring us into their testosterone fueled pow-wow of idiocy. Instead, we all had to live with the consequences of their decisions. But what it all boils down to is each of them thought they were doing the best they could for the people they loved.”
Joey flopped back against the couch. “I get what you’re saying. I do. But, my God, how do you forgive stupidity like that?”
“It takes a long, long time. And a lot of wine. But once you get to that point of understanding, everything starts to hurt just a little bit less. I honestly believe that they didn’t do any of it to hurt you. They both thought they were protecting you in their own stupid, misguided way.” Phoebe patted her leg.
Franklin entered the room carting a tray with steaming mugs, Mr. Snuffles on his heels. He’d sliced up lemon and added a little bowl of honey and a pitcher of cream.
“Thank you, handsome,” Phoebe said, grinning up at her husband-to-be.
Franklin smiled sweetly back at her and Joey wanted to gag a little. Everyone was happy and in love except for her. Stupid Blue Moon.
“So what are you going to do?” Phoebe asked, after Franklin left them again.
Mr. Snuffles jumped up next to her on the couch and cocked his head as if he was waiting for an answer too.
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Do you love Jax?”
Joey shrugged. “I guess. But that sure didn’t get me very far either time with him. We’re obviously missing something key to a successful relationship. Any ideas?”
“If I had to hazard a guess, I’d put my money on communication,” Phoebe offered.
“Relationships would be so much easier if we didn’t have to communicate,” Joey grumbled. It was true. She and Jax rarely had a conversation that didn’t begin or end with an argument. And if they weren’t fighting, they were naked. Solid relationships couldn’t be built on just sex, could they?
She hadn’t realized she’d asked the question out loud until Phoebe snorted in her tea. “No, but they sure go better than the ones with terrible sex. And you know what? You can learn to communicate easier than you can learn to be more interesting in bed.”
“You may have a point,” Joey said, picking up her tea and sniffing it. “One last question. You knew all this time why Jax left. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Phoebe sighed long and low. “I’ve been dreading this question for years. Not telling you makes me seem disloyal to you. Like I was protecting Jax over you.”
“Maybe a little. I mean, he is your son and all, but you still should have told me.”
“It was for Jax and your father to tell. Coming from anyone else, including me?” she shook her head. “The only way to save either or both of those relationships is for them to tell you the truth. Me telling you would have robbed them of that opportunity and it would have quite possibly effectively ended one or both relationships.”
“But my relationship with Jax was alr
eady over.”
Phoebe smiled. “Honey, you two could run off and marry other people and have six kids apiece and you still wouldn’t be over. There are so many strings tying you two together I pity anyone who tries to keep you apart.”
“John seemed to think that me loving Jax in high school was kind of like a prison.”
“Leave it to a man to describe love as a prison,” Phoebe sighed.
“Do you think I trapped him?”
“I think the decisions you both would have made together would have put you in different places than where you are now.”
“So Jax wouldn’t be a big-time Hollywood screenwriter?”
“And you wouldn’t be a partner in the stables you helped build,” Phoebe pointed out.
Joey couldn’t imagine a life without her horses, without Pierce Acres, without her cozy home tucked away on a hill.
“Hmm. Well, you know there’s really only one thing that’s going to repair your relationship with me since you’ve been lying to me for all these years,” Joey said, delicately sipping her tea.
Phoebe rolled her eyes and pulled a battered recipe card out from under the couch cushion. “Mercenary,” she said.
“Thank you Great-Aunt Felicia,” Joey said, triumphantly holding up the raspberry cream cheese coffee cake recipe.
30
The day of Blue Moon’s 45th Annual Sit-In And Good Cause Carnival dawned crisp and bright with temperatures promising a balmy high in the mid-forties.
To Joey it was both a ridiculous and entirely enjoyable tradition in town. Forty-five years ago, the town’s library had faced a funding crisis and shutdown was imminent. The librarian at the time, Mrs. Manypenny, had somehow formed a bond with Blue Moon’s newest flower child residents, allowing them to sell crafts in the library’s basement, helping them with job applications, and pointing them toward the right resources for their many endeavors of the moment.
Mrs. Manypenny had helped Willa secure a loan to open Blue Moon Boots. She’d ordered beekeeping books when Elvira Eustace, then Elvira Sharpinski, wanted to start her own beekeeping enterprise. She’d arranged for guest speakers to address Blue Moon audiences on topics as vast and varied as raising growth hormone-free livestock, hydroponics, transcendental meditation, and what to do when you hadn’t paid income tax.