Sarah stands up and comes closer, studying my face intently, but there are no signs of recognition evident in her brown eyes. The same brown eyes as September’s.
She nods her head slowly back and forth. “I’m sorry,” she replies softly, “I don’t remember you. How did we know each other?”
I don’t know how to answer that—if I’m supposed to be honest and under the circumstances, if it’s wise to even open this can of worms.
“Jesse’s your husband,” Henry says, “Your last name is Ryan.”
“No,” she replies quickly. “My last name is Smith. I’m Sarah Smith. I don’t remember any husband, Daddy.”
It appears Sarah is now convinced Ruth and Henry are her parents; I wonder if their mission is to do the same with Scout and me.
As if on cue, “This here is Scout,” Henry continues, taking his granddaughter by the hand and pulling her in front of Sarah to present. “She’s your daughter—you and Jesse had a daughter together.”
“Hi,” Scout says, smiling up at her. “I don’t remember you either, Sarah. I guess we’re both in the same boat, huh?”
Leave it to my ten year-old to break the ice.
Sarah smiles down at her, and takes her hand. “Hi Scout,” she says, “You sure are pretty. You favor your daddy over there.”
“Uh huh,” she replies, “Everybody says that. But September looks a lot like you.”
And it’s then that Ruth and Henry realize she’s not with us. They’ve obviously been totally focused on Libby, and what’s best for her.
“September?” Sarah asks, looking around. “Who’s that?”
“Where is September?” Ruth asks.
“She didn’t come with us,” Scout answers.
Ruth looks to me for an explanation; I don’t have one to give. I merely shrug and give her a look that says I’m clueless.
“September is your other daughter,” Henry explains. “She’s eighteen. Just graduated high school.”
Sarah looks back at me, her eyes narrowing and for just a second, I think a flash of recognition is visible in her eyes. Just as quickly, it’s gone. “We have two daughters?”
“Ah . . . no. We just have Scout. September doesn’t belong to me.”
I feel as if I should clarify that for everyone because the truth is she is mine. I’ve claimed her; I’ve marked her, hell I’ve fuckin’ imprinted on her if you want to know the truth. September does belong to me, in every possible way. But no one here knows that and the truth is, that’s on me for hiding it.
“I’m sorry. I don’t remember any of you,” Sarah whispers, somewhat distraught because she doesn’t.
“No worries, honey,” Ruth speaks up. “I brought more photo albums down for you to look at. Full of pictures of you, Jesse, Scout and September—of your lives together.”
Sarah’s brow furrows in confusion. “Why was I not with them?” she asks.
And there it is. The unasked question. I don’t wait for Ruth or Henry to give some sugar-coated answer to it.
“Because you walked out on us,” I say. I hear Ruth gasp behind me. Henry turns and shoots daggers at me with his eyes. I’m undeterred. “If you want her to remember, no sense in telling her fairy tales,” I say, turning to Ruth. “We’re not here to fabricate the past.”
“I did?” Sarah whispers, her eyes tearing up. “I’m sorry. I can’t remember anything. I don’t know why I would’ve done that, but I am sorry.” Her voice cracks and a sob manages to escape.
“Oh now sweetie, don’t cry,” Ruth says, going over and wrapping her arm around her while flashing me a glare.
“Dad,” Scout says quietly. “Don’t be a butthead to her.”
And now I’m the shit for being honest.
Fuck me.
I need to set a better example for my daughter at the very least. “Sarah,” I say to her, “I expect you had your reasons. I’m sorry about being so blunt and hurtful. It’s all in the past, so please don’t cry.”
She nods, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue that Ruth has given her. “Thanks for that, Jesse.”
Scout has wandered into the dining room and spots a puzzle on the table that looks to be in process. “Who’s working this puzzle?” she asks, trying to get everyone’s focus off of me and my spiteful comment.
“I am,” Sarah replies. “It’s a thousand pieces. Been taking me a while. I started yesterday afternoon.”
“Can I help?” Scout asks her. “I’m pretty good at these.”
I see Sarah brighten up at Scout’s offer. She smiles genuinely and that’s when I notice that she has an almost child-like quality about her.
“Sure, I’d love that, Scout.”
And so my daughter takes a seat at the table, next to the mother that doesn’t remember her, and they set about to finish the puzzle together.
“Are you and Scout staying here with us?” Ruth asks.
“Unless I’m no longer welcome,” I reply.
“Of course, you’re welcome, Jesse. I just don’t want to spring a lot of the negative stuff on Libby,” she says quietly. “If she never gets her memory back, then what purpose is served in dredging up the dirt? After all she’s been through, don’t you reckon she deserves some peace of mind?”
I nod, but I’m not at all sure I agree. I don’t have the luxury of amnesia to wipe my slate clean—why should she?
“What’s the deal with September?” she asks me.
“She had to work. She said she didn’t have a choice.”
“I see,” Ruth says, not convinced. I’m not saying any more. It’s not their business.
“Listen, I’m going to go and get our stuff outta the car.”
Ruth nods. “I’ve put Scout in Sarah’s room. There are twin beds in there. You can sleep in September’s old room.”
Fucking great.
Once outside, I call September’s cell. It goes to voicemail. “Hey there,” I say, “I just wanted to let you know that we got here. Your ma is well—different, but Scout seems to be okay with her, which is good. I love you. And I miss you like crazy. Everything’s going to be fine, September. You need to trust me on that, okay? I’ll try back later.”
I text her for good measure in case she’s at work and has her phone on vibrate.
Love you. Check your voicemail.
We made it through the first night there. Scout is really bonding with Libby—Sarah, whoever the fuck she is these days. Whatever happened to her, did more than give her amnesia, it’s evident.
I made the mistake of mentioning that to Henry when we were alone after breakfast. Ruth had taken Libby and Scout shopping for clothes. She said Sarah had only some used clothing that wasn’t fit to be used as rags when they brought her back.
“Henry, it’s obvious to me that there’s something more going on with Libby than just the amnesia . . . her whole personality is . . . different.”
“Well hell yeah, she’s different. She’s been through a lot. She was damn near dead when they found her.”
“But you realize there’s more to it. She acts like a child for Chrissake.”
He gets up and grabs his pipe from the stand, opening the box that contains his tobacco, and filling the bowl of his pipe. His fingers press down on the inside of the bowl, packing the tobacco tightly. “I know that,” he finally says. “When Ruth and I got to the group home where she had been living, we talked to the director. She gave us all the paperwork on Elizabeth, and you’re right, it’s more than the amnesia—in fact, the prognosis is that the amnesia is secondary to the brain damage she suffered from the skull fracture.”
“Skull fracture?”
“Yeah,” he replies, lighting his pipe. “She got the best care an indigent, Jane Doe without insurance gets. Hell—they kept her alive and for that we thank our Lord, but she’s got permanent brain damage. The truth is, she’ll probably never be able to live on her own or make her own way.”
I can see where h
e’s going with this.
“I see. I made a commitment to you and to Ruth to put the divorce on hold so that Libby can get the medical attention she needs. But I’m not keeping it on hold indefinitely. You need to understand that.”
He tenses up and it’s as if his face has turned to stone.
“Excuse me, son. I didn’t realize that you’d put a time limit on your wife’s recovery. Thought maybe that “in sickness and in health” clause might’ve given you pause for thought.”
Low blow, Henry. But ineffective.
“Nothing’s changed. And you know damn well that Libby stopped being a wife the day she walked out on her kids and me. It seems to me that nothing’s to be served delaying the divorce. This might be as good as she gets, have you even considered that?”
He frowns and takes a long draw on his pipe. “Yes, we have thought of that. But we don’t know anything for sure. She’s got an appointment scheduled next week for a full neurological evaluation, unless you’re fixing to take her back to Fort Smith with you and Scout. I’m sure there are fine neurologists there as well.”
I’m flipping out that he’s not getting the message. How can I make it any clearer to him without outing September? “That wasn’t my plan,” I reply.
“Look, Jesse, I understand what Libby did was wrong on so many levels, but the woman she is now, well—it’s nothing like the woman she was when she left. Ruth and I’ve only been with her for a few days, but she’s kind, and gentle. She’s grateful to us, she helps Ruth with everything, and she’s even become a God-fearing Christian. She wants to go to church with us on Sunday. Maybe somewhere in your heart you can find forgiveness. Won’t you try?”
I put my hands on my face, rubbing the shit out of my stubble. Clearly, they’ve planned this agenda. There’s no getting around it. They need to know the truth, and it’s best if I start with Henry.
“No. I won’t try. I’m not in love with her any longer. I love someone else, and there’s nothing that will make me give her up, because you see, she loves me, too.”
He raises a snowy white brow and studies me. He didn’t count on this, I can tell. Slowly the realization sinks in as to the extent of what I’ve told him.
“You bastard,” he hisses, standing up as if he’s going to take me on. “What have you done? Seduced my granddaughter? She’s a child for heaven’s sake!”
He moves closer, fists clenched, a vein on his forehead popping out.
Wouldn’t be a smart thing, Henry.
I’ve got size and youth on my side.
“She’s a woman,” I correct him. “A woman that I love and that I’m committed to. We love each other.”
“It’s sick,” he snaps, “It’s unnatural and sick. September’s too young to know how evil this is and to fully understand the depravity of the situation!”
I move closer to him, in a show of defiance. How dare he stand there judging me?
“You know, Henry. I considered her youth. And to tell you the truth, I’ve struggled with that. But then I thought about something. She’s nineteen next month. I was only eighteen when I fell in love with Libby, and took her off your hands. You didn’t see anything depraved then, did you?”
“It’s not the same thing,” he replies. “My God, September is Scout’s big sister. What does she think about her father carrying on with her older sister?”
“It’s not fucking incest. And Scout doesn’t know yet. But I’m gonna tell her soon because it’s not fair to keep her in the dark. Truth be told, September’s been more of a caregiver to Scout than her ma ever was, and it’s about time I do right by her.”
“You’re not going to marry her, are you?”
“I’m gonna put her through college first. She’s bright and driven and if she wants a career then I want her to have one. As far as marriage? Hell yes, I want to marry her when she’s ready, if she’ll have me, that is.”
Henry shakes his head, and I can see my news has sucked the air out of him, along with the plans he and Ruth had for me.
“I’ll not tell Ruth about this until you and Scout leave. I don’t think she could bear to have you here knowing what I do.”
He emptied the charred remnants of tobacco from his pipe into the glass ashtray on the coffee table. He left the room and I suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted. It felt damn good.
All I can think about is going home to September. My life doesn’t feel complete when she’s not close by. It’s like a piece of my heart is missing.
I go outside and pull my cell out. She’s not returned my call or my text. I try calling her again. It goes straight to voicemail again.
“Hey babe, are you avoiding me? I’m so fucking sorry that I didn’t consider your feelings in any of this. I’m a shit. Your grandpa knows about us. And when I get home, you and I will sit down with Scout and let her know that we’re a couple, at least I hope that you still want to be. I love you.”
I text her too.
I love you September Lynn Dawson.
Scout and I get through the next couple of days. Henry remains quiet to me, not that he’s ever been all that boisterous. Ruth is the same as always, and Sarah is still kind of shy around me, though I do catch glimpses of her watching me. She and Scout get on real good. They play checkers, and board games, and it’s almost as if Scout has found a new best friend.
We go to church with them on Sunday, and I’m reminded of what a nice voice Libby has. She always could carry a note pretty well. She’s definitely all about church hymns now. Makes me think I should be getting Scout to church regularly. I make a mental note to do that.
I’ve not heard anything from September and I’m thinking I must’ve really pissed her off more than I thought. She’s giving me the silent treatment, so I don’t leave any more messages or texts. This is gonna have to be a one-on-one when I get home, and I will do my damnedst to make it up to her.
Sleeping in her room these past few nights has given me a glimpse of what her life was like those missing years.
Pictures of a former boyfriend named Todd plastered all over the mirror above her desk. Her high school yearbooks that I flipped through, finding her picture, and noticing how prettier she got every year.
I saw the books that she enjoyed reading in her bookcase, and some of the poetry she must’ve written pinned on a bulletin board next to the mirror.
One poem in particular caught my eye.
Raven hair and eyes of blue; his memory haunts my very soul.
How could he leave me without a care?
Knowing that I want to be there.
I love his power, I love his heart.
Things just happened; we had to part.
But maybe someday he will finally see
How he broke my heart when he set me free.
Yeah, it’s a little girl’s poem, but it hits me like a ton of bricks. I never fucking knew how much I’d hurt September when I hadn’t taken her back with me. I mean, it had been the right thing to do at the time.
At least, I thought it was.
And then as I pack my stuff to leave, I check under the bed for a missing shoe. That’s when I see something shiny in the darkness; my hand feels along the carpet underneath her bed, my fingers making contact with the gold locket necklace I’d given her. Pulling it out into the light, I open it and see my face in the locket. She’d cut it from a snapshot that must’ve been taken years ago.
When she was just a little girl.
Fuck. What am I doing?
Monday morning I make sure that Scout and I are all packed up. This trip has been good for both of us.
Scout has spent time with her ma, who doesn’t seem like a ma, but they’ve bonded. I’ve had a come-to-Jesus meeting with myself, and I’ve laid the truth on Henry.
I’ve got everything loaded in the rental car. All that’s left is to grab Scout and say our goodbyes.
Ruth is fussing over Scout, giving her a bag of homemade
cookies to take on the plane. “Now you call Gram when you get home, hear?”
“Yes, Gram,” she says nodding.
Henry picks her up and gives her a hug and a kiss. “I’m gonna miss you, Button.”
“Me too, Gramps,” she says, hugging him back. “Where’s Sarah? I want to say goodbye to her.”
Libby’s been nowhere around this morning, and to be perfectly honest, I’m relieved. But I understand Scout’s need to say a proper goodbye to her ma.
“Sarah,” Ruth calls out, “Jesse and Scout are fixin’ to leave. Come down and say goodbye.”
“Be right down,” she hollers, showing more energy and zest than I’ve observed since being here.
She descends the staircase, suitcase in hand. “I’m ready, Jesse,” she says, her eyes now showing emotion and happiness. “I’m ready to go home with you and Scout.”
To the Readers
Would I leave you hanging like this? No freakin' way!
No worries! The sequel to "Loving Jesse" is available now! So hurry and see what happens next for Jesse and September in "Forever Jesse," the conclusion in this series.
HERE IS THE LINK: amzn.to/2gFlJ1k
About Andrea Smith
Andrea Smith is a USA Today and Amazon Best-Selling Author of the G-Man Series! She has a wicked sense of humor. No matter the genre, she is able to infuse laughter throughout.
She self-publishes Contemporary Romance, Romantic Suspense, and Sensual Romance with a paranormal twist. She also writes New Adult Romance, and has recently collaborated with Author Eva LeNoir on three M/M Romances.
Here is a listing of her published fiction to date:
Baby Series (Contemporary Romance/Suspense w/erotic tone)
These books should be read in order:
Maybe Baby (Book 1)
Baby Love (Book 2)
Be My Baby (Book 3)
Baby Come Back (Novella) (Book 3.5)
G-Man Series (Contemporary Romance/Suspense w/erotic tone)
These Books do not have to be read in order, but they are most enjoyable if done so.
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