Everything I Shouldn't / Everything I Need (Nashville Nights #2-3)

by Stacey Mosteller

  "Same thing she always wants from anyone. Money, a place to stay, someone to take care of her now that her latest boyfriend has tossed her out. The only thing she ever wants from me." I laugh, but it's not a real laugh, there's no humor in it. "Do you know what I hate the most?" SarahBeth just stares, wide-eyed at me, waiting for me to continue. "I hate that every time the latest guy leaves, she remembers she has a son. And, I hate even more that when I tell her no, I won't pay her rent or give her cash, she says "isn't it time for someone to take care of me". I mean, really? I'm supposed to take care of her...this woman who couldn't pull her head out of her own ass when I was born to take care of me? Instead, she foisted me off on her sister who made my life hell when none of it was my fault." I don't notice her moving until her slim arms are wrapped around my neck and she's sitting in my lap with her face buried in my shirt. Instinctively, I wrap my own arms around her, closing my eyes at the feeling. She always feels so...right when I'm holding her. Like this is where I belong.

  She speaks, but her head in my chest muffles her words. "I'm so sorry, Jer! I wish they'd stop letting her come around. She doesn't deserve you, she doesn't deserve to even know you."

  "Shh, pretty girl," I try to comfort her, taking comfort from her too. This right here, this is what I've been missing. Talking to her, having her in my arms, all of it. Ever since the morning after New Year's Eve, I've regretted pushing her away, but I was just too messed up over what happened that night. I needed to step back and get some perspective. Lifting a hand, I use it to stroke her blonde hair while I tighten my hold on her with the other, enjoying the feeling of having her in my arms again. We sit here like this, neither of us talking for a much shorter time than I would like, but eventually she lifts her head, moving out of my embrace.

  SarahBeth wipes her eyes, the sincere emotion in them tugging at my heartstrings, before she stands, moving away from me and walking over to the door. "I should probably get back to Wyatt...I'm sure he's wondering what happened to me."

  I nod, but I don't really understand why she's leaving so suddenly. We were finally connecting again, and now she's running away from me. It makes me realize just how much I've fucked up during the past few months. She gives me a little wave and a sad smile before shutting the door behind her, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I realize she no longer trusts me, she has Wyatt to be her go to now and that fucks with my head. I've always been the person she runs to, or at least I was until New Year's Eve. I'm now figuring out just how much I fucked up by overreacting that night, but there's no way I can make anything better if she won't talk to me. I guess this is my punishment, the fact that she won't stick around longer than she has to, that I can see the fear in her eyes whenever I open my mouth.

  I have to figure out a way to get her back because I refuse to let Wyatt have what's mine. Make no mistake about it, she is mine. I just need to get my shit straight and deal with my mom, my aunt and my uncle because they're toxic and the last people she needs to be around. Then, I can talk to David and make him understand that I'm in love with her, that I have been for a long time, and that no one would take better care of her than me.

  SarahBeth

  Jeremy does not get along with his family, not that he doesn't have good reason, and if he knew I was here to see his grandmother, he'd probably be pissed. His grandma is a sweet lady, and I know he loves her. It's just hard for him to be in his aunt and uncle's house. He's never considered it to be his home, even though he grew up here. His grandmother moved in a few years ago, not long after my parents died, and I really like her.

  Knocking on the back door, I wait for it to open. When it does, Jeremy's grandmother smiles at me. She's just a little shorter than me, with wispy white hair and the same blue eyes that Jeremy has. "Hi Mrs. Meloni!" I say brightly before giving her a brief hug.

  "Hello cara. Come in, come in!" She gestures for me to walk past her into the kitchen and I look around in awe the way I do whenever I come over. Unlike Jeremy's Aunt Constance, his grandmother Lucia is warm, loving and more relaxed than either of my grandmothers ever are. The kitchen is a lot like her, which makes sense because whenever I've been here, that's where we spend the majority of our time. Since the disaster that was Thanksgiving a few years ago, she's been teaching me how to cook, and how to make some of Jeremy's favorite foods. She swears by the saying "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach" and she's told me on more than one occasion that I'm perfect for her grandson. Now, if only he felt the same way!

  Today, she's teaching me how to make one of Jeremy's favorite foods so I can make it for his birthday next week. He loves her Lasagna and I want to show him that I'm not the same girl I was that awful year. Now, I can actually make edible food, instead of gray potatoes and a turkey with its neck and giblets cooked inside it.

  I place the grocery bags on the table and start removing the ingredients Mrs. Meloni told me to get at the store. Before long, the table is full of tomatoes, onions, garlic and more. Just looking at it all makes me tired and we haven't even started yet! Jeremy's grandmother starts picking things up and inspecting them, nodding to herself while she does.

  Reaching up, Mrs. Meloni pats me on the cheek, "You're a good girl Sarah. That boy of mine needs to wake up and snatch you before some other giovane does."

  My face flushes at her words. "Thanks Mrs. Meloni," I murmur, a little uncomfortable with the fact that she knows I'm in love with her grandson.

  "Psh," she waves me away. "Call me Nonna, girl. We're family. You love my Jeremy, sì?" I nod, and she continues, "Bene, you will call me Nonna." Pulling out a knife she proceeds to show me how to chop the vegetables and get everything ready.

  Once we have all the vegetables ready, the meat cooked and a jar of her homemade sauce on the stove, Jeremy's grandmother starts telling me stories about Jeremy when he was a little boy. "Jeremy was always serious, even as a young boy," she starts, staring at nothing as she remembers. "I could kill Teresa for the way she treated that poor boy when he was small. My daughter," she stops, shaking her head in dismay before continuing, "she was not the kind of girl who to be a mamma, especially so young." Her eyes meet mine, and I can plainly see the sadness in them. "She tried to do the right thing by her boy by giving him to her sister, but my Constance, she is very amaro since she cannot carry her own figli, so she risentito Teresa and Jeremy."

  When she stops to take a breath, I must look confused because she laughs, covering my hand with hers. "Mi dispiace cara, I forget you do not know italiano." She stops to think for a minute, trying to find the words for what she's trying to say. "Ah, yes. Constance was very, how you say, full of resent because she was unable to birth her own."

  "Poor Jeremy," is all I can think to say. He doesn't talk much about his mom or his aunt and uncle, although I'm sure David knows the details since he'd spent time here when they were younger.

  "Sì," she says, "My poor nipote. We did so wrong by him when he was young. I wish I had done many things differently."

  Her voice is sad, so I say the only I can think of to try to make her feel better. "Jeremy is a good man, Nonna. I think you did just fine." It must be the right thing to say, because she smiles widely at me before going back to layering lasagna noodles in the pan.

  "You must layer the tagliatelle in just the right way," she explains. "First, you put a little sauce, like this, then the noodles and the cheese." She continues to layer everything in the pan until she's satisfied before directing me to put the pan in the oven.

  When the oven door shuts, she leads me into the living room to talk while we wait for the timer to go off. She asks me questions about what I'm going to school for and I tell her about the different classes I'm taking this semester. She's most interested in my Art History class, which is actually the one I'm not most into. My favorite class last semester is Intro to Graphic Design, but she doesn't really understand it. We haven't been talking for very long when the back door opens, causing both of us to jump. Mrs. Meloni looks at me innocen
tly, and I quickly figure out who's here. Not even thirty seconds later, Jeremy walks into the room.

  "Hey Nonna," he says, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

  She grins, patting his cheek like she did mine earlier, "Nipote. I was wondering when you would get here."

  Jeremy sits beside me on the sofa, stretching out his legs and laying an arm along the couch behind me. I stiffen before straightening my spine so that I'm no longer relaxing into the cushions to avoid touching him. He gives me a quizzical look before shaking his head and turning his attention back to his grandmother. "Are you making lasagna?" He sounds excited about the possibility.

  She grins back at him nodding as she tells him, "SarahBeth is. She wanted to make your favorite. It was supposed to be a surprise." She's scolding him now, but you can tell she doesn't mean it. Hell, she probably told him I was here. He doesn't normally show up here.

  Looking over to me, Jeremy tugs me into his side. "Aw, that's sweet Little Bit." My face burns and I know it's bright red, which only makes his smile widen. He loves embarrassing me, he always has. It's been awhile since he's acted this affectionate towards me, so I lean further into him, enjoying his embrace while I can.

  Jeremy

  When my grandmother told me that SarahBeth was coming to see her today she didn't tell me that they would be cooking. In the past few years they've only seen each other a handful of times, and in the years before I left for college, they saw each other even less. Suffice it to say, I was extremely intrigued as to why she was hanging out at my aunt and uncle's house. It's not a place where I like to spend much time. In fact, I try to only visit when I know they aren't there. I love my grandmother, and wish I could spend more time with her, but I don't have much love for my aunt.

  My mother and my aunt like to think they're complete opposites, but really, they aren't that different. My mother got pregnant when she was a teenager, and there were a few contenders for the title of my father. To this day, I'm not sure she really knows who it was. She has her suspicions, but the person she's pretty certain is my father died when I was only a year old, so it's not like she could find out for sure. The guy she suspected of knocking her up didn't hang around for very long. Of course, she didn't hang around for long either. My mother decided that being a mother wasn't her "thing" when I was just a few months old, which is how I ended up with my aunt in the first place.

  Having my aunt raise me was my grandmother's idea, and it would have been a good one, except for the fact that my aunt wasn't thrilled about having to raise her troublemaker sister's child when she was struggling with infertility herself. She was angry with my mother for being able to get pregnant when she didn't want to be a mother, while my aunt would have done anything to have her own. Aunt Connie never let me forget that I was not her child, and she wasn't thrilled about having to take care of me. Knowing that no one wants you does horrible things to a child's psyche, and it messed me up for a long time. It's taken me a long time to realize that I'm not the problem, that she's the one with an issue.

  I very rarely see my mother. Teresa only comes around when she wants something, usually money. She's very fond of saying "It's time someone took care of me", when really, no one owes her anything...certainly not me. My mother has never been there for me, and maybe it makes me an ass, but I just can't bring myself to be there for her. I'm not one of those people who only wants my mom to love me; I actually feel pretty apathetic towards her now. I learned at a young age that my mother was only ever out for herself. Watching David and SarahBeth's mom and the way she was with them, and even with me, showed me what a mother should be and now, well, now I refuse to let her guilt me into giving her anything.

  Pulling up to my aunt and uncle's house, it takes me a few minutes to actually get out of the car. I know they aren't here since both cars are gone, but it's hard to really feel welcome there. Maybe things would have been different if my grandmother had lived there when I was growing up, but she didn't. Walking inside, I'm assaulted by the smell of my grandmother's lasagna. It's one of my favorite foods and knowing that she probably made it for my birthday makes me smile. I can hear SarahBeth's voice coming from the living room, so I continue through until I see them.

  After telling my grandmother hello, I sit beside SB. I know that I should stay away from her, but my entire body is drawn to hers. She stiffens at my touch, which bothers me, but after a quick look, I turn back to my grandmother to ask about the lasagna. When she tells me that SarahBeth is the one who made it, I can't help but smile. She knows how much I love it, and the fact that she wants to make it for me, for my birthday means more than she'll ever know. Aside from Nonna, she's the only person who's ever done anything like that for me.

  "Aw, that's sweet Little Bit," I say, pulling her into a brief hug. My entire body hums at the contact, especially when she leans further into me, and I have to clench my hand into a fist once I release her to stop myself from grabbing her again. My grandmother gives me a knowing smile as she looks between us and I suppress an eye roll. She's playing matchmaker and she's not ashamed of it. She would love to see me end up with SB, but she doesn't understand why it can't happen. My grandmother comes from a different time and place; my grandfather was over a decade older than her. It was common for young girls to marry young, and often to men much older than them. She sees nothing wrong with a relationship between me, and a girl more than ten years younger than me.

  A few minutes later the oven timer goes off and Nonna motions for SarahBeth to follow her into the kitchen. Unable to stop myself, I join them, wanting to watch this slip of a girl wrangle the huge pan of lasagna my grandmother always makes. I'm not disappointed, because I swear; the pan is almost as big as she is. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but it is a huge pan and she struggles with it to the point I start to go help her. Shooting me a look that says "I can do this on my own", SB places the pan on the cooling rack Nonna points to, heaving a huge sigh once it's safely out of her hands.

  "Sembra buono," Nonna says with a nod, before telling SarahBeth in English, "looks good." SarahBeth beams as her shoulders relax and I know she's remembering the Thanksgiving disaster from a few years ago.

  After letting the lasagna cool for a bit, my grandmother cuts three tiny pieces so that we can all have a taste. She passes one first to SarahBeth, then me before studying her own. Once she's satisfied, she nods towards the two of us, gesturing that we should try it. SarahBeth takes a tentative bite before grinning across the kitchen island at my grandmother who smiles back. "Perfectto," she exclaims happily.

  I take my own bite and let the flavors explode in my mouth. It tastes exactly the way it should and when I look over at SB, she's watching me nervously, waiting for my reaction. "This is amazing," I tell her, leaning over to place a kiss on her forehead.

  We each finish our small pieces before Nonna packs the rest up for us to take home with us, talking to SB the entire time. She tells her to come back anytime and she'll teach her how to cook anything she wants. Once SB takes the food to her car, Nonn turns to me and says, "Non lasciate che questo scappare." Don't let this one get away. Like I have a choice in the matter.

  "I don't want to let her go, Nonna. But, she's David's little sister. I can't touch her."

  She gives me a stern look. "Nipote, David would not begrudge you your happiness. That girl loves you. You love her too, sì?"

  "I can't love her, Nonna." I'm getting frustrated with this whole conversation. She just doesn't get it. I can't go behind David's back and mess with his sister. Not to mention, SarahBeth deserves someone better than me. She needs a guy with a good family. One that can give her some of what she's missing. I can't do that.

  When I try to explain that to my grandmother, she just gives me a pitying look before muttering, "Idiota." Then shaking her head at me, she smacks me on the back of mine before telling me to go after my girl. Giving her a quick kiss, I head for the door, having no intention of "going after" SarahBeth, not that she needs to know that.


  SarahBeth

  "Oooh get that one! No, wait! Get that one!" Livvie squeals as we make our way through the racks of Halloween costumes. It's definitely her favorite holiday - Livvie loves to dress up.

  Once we both have arms full of clothes we head back to the fitting rooms. My idea of what a costume should be and Livvie's are completely different things. I like costumes that are fun while for Livvie, the sexier the better. I found a cute pink and black polka dot 50's dress that came with a headband, but that was quickly vetoed. The dress came down to my knees, so it was an immediate "no". She is bound and determined that this year Jeremy will notice me so she picked out two very short dresses. The first was a pink and white halter-top dress with a petticoat underneath and a skirt covered in cupcakes. The second was a play on Sleeping Beauty's outfit. Instead of a long skirt though, it had a faux corset top and a tutu.

  For herself, Livvie had picked out two costumes that were the color of the streaks in her own hair that we'd just had touched up. I went with pink streaks each time since it's my favorite color, but Livvie never did the same one. So far, she'd done blue, green, and now purple. Some of hers were a pale lilac and some were a deep purple that were hardly discernible with her almost black dyed hair. I don't know why she got rid of her natural chestnut brown, but she'd been trying to get me to go from my light blonde to black too. Sooo not going to happen! She always changed her contacts to match her hair too, so she's rocking violet eyes instead of her normal pale blue color. One of her costumes was a short lilac and black dress with fairy wings and garters to hold up stockings while the other was a pale purple corset and tutu with a very phallic looking unicorn "horn". It was just the type of thing Livvie would go for.