Worth the Risk (St. James Book 3)

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Worth the Risk (St. James Book 3) Page 25

by Jamie Beck


  Jackson glanced at Cat, who tended to be silent during family confrontations, so he hadn’t expected otherwise. He returned his attention to David. “Does Vivi know?”

  David’s eyes widened, having not expected the question. “Why is that relevant?”

  “Because if you told Vivi, then you already broke your promise. And if Vivi can know, dammit, so can I.” Jackson heard the bite in his voice and took a breath to calm down. “Don’t treat me like a baby who can’t handle bad news.”

  “Strictly speaking, I didn’t break my promise by telling Vivi. The promise didn’t extend to her.” Once more David’s gaze wandered to their father, whose only response was a heavy sigh. “How is learning the details of my fight with Dad—which had nothing to do with you—necessary to reestablishing our relationship?”

  “Because if you can’t confide in me, how can I confide in you? We never had secrets before, especially not ones that affected our whole family.”

  David’s eyes glistened. “Even if I were willing to break my word, which I’m not, I know you’d regret it later. If you knew . . . Please let’s all leave the past where it belongs.”

  “Doc,” Cat interrupted, “who’s right, here? I mean, I’m not sure who to support. Is Jackson’s recovery contingent on forcing David to choose?” Then she looked at her dad. “And you’re awfully quiet for someone who’s equally involved in the big cover-up, whatever it is.”

  “I’m quiet because my opinion on this whole subject won’t be welcomed by anyone.” Their father’s posture, his tone, his eyes . . . everything screamed annoyance. The opposite of what needed to happen here today.

  “Why’d you come, Dad?” Jackson asked, a little wary and angry at the same time. “Honestly, if you’re just going to disengage, then why’d you bother at all? You’ve always been distant, but without Mom around to balance the scales, it feels like the family is broken. Her heart was the sun, and when she died, all the light and warmth vanished from our little universe.”

  “More revisionist history and fairy tales.” His father heaved a weary sigh. David’s deadly expression didn’t falter even when their dad shot him a quelling glance. “Your mom was a good woman, but she was human. She wasn’t perfect. And she’d be the first person to tell you to make your own ‘light’ in the world instead of relying on hers.”

  Jackson absorbed that remark, wondering what his mom would say, and if she could see them now. Cat nervously picked at her nails, and David continued to glare, although now his gaze looked unfocused, as if he, too, were lost in a jungle of agitated thought.

  Their father leaned forward, clearly agitated. “You want to know what happened, I’ll tell you.”

  “Dad!” David practically reached across the room to stop him. “Don’t. It won’t help. In fact, it could undo all Jackson’s progress. Please!”

  “Christ Almighty, David.” Their father shook his head. “I can’t believe both my sons are so weak willed that they can’t handle life’s bumps without running off to Asia or drinking themselves into trouble. If your mom hadn’t coddled you all, especially you boys, we wouldn’t be sitting here now. And yet you all revere her ‘warmth,’ the very trait that made you so fragile.”

  His father dismissively waved a hand. “Even if we disagree about that, my God, I’m glad she’s not around to see all of this! Whatever you all think of me, she admired my strength and practicality. She relied on it to keep all of you secure and grounded in reality. She’d be sorely disappointed to see you floundering and blaming others for your inability to handle disappointment.” He then pointed a finger at Cat. “Your sister’s the only St. James other than me with any grit.”

  Cat’s face paled. “Don’t say it like that . . . like I’m insensitive. I have feelings. I can be warm.”

  Jackson put an arm around his sister and muttered, “Stand down, hedgehog.”

  She’d never liked that little nickname, but he hoped it would stop her from fighting with their dad. He didn’t want to be responsible for any more family rifts. Maybe he should drop the matter.

  Before he had a chance to say anything, David erupted.

  “Every time I think I’ve gotten past everything, you say shit like that, and I could almost hate you, Dad.” David’s sharply edged voice sliced through the air like a fine knife blade.

  Jackson’s heart thumped heavily in his chest, but Doc held up his hands. “Everyone, let’s dial it back. Emotions, or the lack of them, must be shared without fear of reprisal. Let’s stay focused on the trust issue without resorting to personal attacks, which won’t help anyone.”

  Their father stood and practically shooed Doc away with a wave of the hand. “No disrespect, doctor, but my kids know this kind of ‘session’ isn’t for me. I may not be jolly and soft, but I do love you three, and want to see each of you back on track with your lives. So, Jackson, if the truth is what will push you along, here it is.

  “I cheated on your mom with Janet. It started before your mom got sick. I was about to talk to her about divorcing but then she got hit with that diagnosis. Janet agreed to wait so I could devote myself to your mom’s recovery. I’d hoped, for all of you, and because of what she and I once shared, that she’d survive. But when it became clear that she wouldn’t, I quietly spent some time with Janet again. Believe it or not, I needed comfort, too.

  “About a month before your mom died, David found out and confronted me. Your mother heard us arguing and begged us to keep this from you and your sister. She considered her family her only legacy and worried that, if you all learned the truth, the family would disintegrate after she died.” He paused then, running his hand along the side of his head, resigned. “Maybe she was right, considering how David couldn’t handle keeping the promise without drawing all kinds of attention to it. And you,” he pointed at Jackson, “respond to trouble by crying into a glass of whiskey every night. I think it’s time you both man up and accept life and me, warts and all. Now David can rest easy for never having broken his promise to his mother, and you’ve got the truth you needed to ‘feel better.’ I’m fine being the bad guy, but none of you have the right to judge because none of you were in my marriage. So are we done now? Can everyone please move on with life, finally?”

  Jackson’s vision blurred, blotting out whatever reaction Cat and David had to their father’s outburst. Pain gripped his chest as if his heart were a stiff joint being stretched beyond its limits. His father’s words danced before his eyes, arranged out of order such that he couldn’t make any sense of them.

  Surely he’d heard wrong. Surely his father had not betrayed their mother and then married the very woman who’d stolen him while his wife lay dying of cancer. My God. My. Fucking. God!

  And then, an utterly inappropriate bout of hysteria bubbled up. Everyone looked at him with surprise when he laughed, but he couldn’t stop. “All this time I thought Dad was the only one who hadn’t totally let me down. David had left, Cat kinda stole Hank from me, Alison . . . but I believed Dad was exactly who he’d always been. Steady. Strong. Honest.” Then, as everything sank in and the delirium wilted, rage sprouted. “Stupid me. I should’ve known better.”

  Jackson heard David sigh and, when he glanced over, he watched his brother bow his head.

  “David, how’d you let us be nice to Janet? How’d you let her be part of your wedding?” Jackson stood and paced. “My God, I’m gonna be sick. I’ve been nice to Janet. She must’ve gotten a good chuckle out of that, huh, Dad? Out of how she stole Mom’s husband and her kids at a time when Mom couldn’t even fight back! How can you respect a woman like that, much less love her? How could you do that to Mom, and to all of us? And now, acting like you and Janet were noble to ‘wait’ for Mom to die? I can’t even look at you right now.”

  He heard a sniffle and his eyes darted to Cat, who’d withdrawn and was crying. David scooted beside her to offer comfort, but the hedgehog elbowed him away.

  David glanced at Doc. “Now what? We’re all here. The big sec
ret is out, and as I predicted, it’s helped no one. Now everything is worse.”

  “Everyone sit down, please,” Doc said. “Everything may feel worse, but it is not worse—not forever. Despite the fresh wave of pain for Jackson and Cat, now there’s honesty. The stage is set for healthy intimacy. For real healing. Regardless of what you all think of your father’s past actions, he confessed. That can’t have been easy, knowing how you’d perceive him.”

  “He’s done exactly what our mother asked him not to do.” David groaned. “After everything I suffered to keep the family together, he’s just ripped it all to shreds.”

  Doc leaned toward David. “Your loyalty to your mother is laudable, David. I can tell you value your word, which I’m sure Jackson understands makes you eminently trustworthy. However, it seems your mom’s request was predicated on the misguided hope that keeping the secret would hold the family together. But secrets rarely keep people together, which is why the family frayed. You were on one side of the globe, your sister floundered in a bad relationship, and Jackson slowly poisoned himself. Had your mother foreseen those consequences, she never would’ve asked you to burden yourself with such a heavy weight. I’m confident of that.”

  David sank into the cushion, appearing mollified. But Jackson didn’t care. Resentment bubbled and popped like hot oil. Disgust for his father’s behavior corroded any hope he’d had of a family reconciliation.

  Jackson needed to leave. He couldn’t remain surrounded by sadness and lies. By betrayal and more loss. He needed to make this all go away. He needed Gabby. “I’m outta here.”

  As he headed toward the door, Cat jumped up. “Jackson, wait. Where are you going?”

  “Away from all of this,” Jackson exploded, his arms raised overhead.

  “Jackson . . .” David said, but then his voice trailed off, defeated.

  “Let him go,” Doc said, not looking at Jackson. “Give him time to figure it out.”

  Jackson stormed through the waiting room and out the front door, onto the street. The sun shone in a cloudless sky, making him squint. Everything hurt, but he couldn’t stand there blinking like an idiot.

  He jogged a block and then ducked into a bagel shop. He found an open seat in the far corner, where he had a clear view of the street. Drawing several deep breaths, he beat back the hard lump wedged in his chest. No way would he lose his shit here amid the scent of garlic and barley malt in this tiny shop in Vermont, despite the fact that he couldn’t think straight. Not when his thoughts played leapfrog—his mom’s discovery, David’s knowing of it for so long, Janet triumphantly taking over. That last thought made him want to punch something.

  He took out his phone and called Gabby, but when she answered, he couldn’t speak.

  “Jackson?” she repeated. “Are you there? What’s wrong?”

  “Everything,” he managed. “Everything is wrong. I need you. Can you come?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  When Gabby pulled into the parking lot of the bagel store, Jackson practically dove into the passenger seat.

  “Sorry it took me a while,” she said. “Your family showed up as I was leaving. Your brother, in particular, seemed distraught.”

  “You didn’t tell them you were picking me up, did you?”

  “No, but I didn’t enjoy lying to them.”

  “Sorry.” Jackson winced. “I can’t see them now. Especially not my dad.”

  Gabby had never seen him so discomposed. He’d obviously speared his hair with his hands more than once. His normally bronzed skin had turned ashen. His eyes had lost all traces of the golden sparkle that typically brightened them. His jaw, firm and tight, twitched.

  “You won’t have to. They left because of your dad’s appointment. I did promise to text when I heard from you, so I waited a few minutes and then texted David.” She reached for his hand. He clasped it and followed her without another word. “We have to pick up Luc, but then we can go home and talk.”

  Jackson stared out the window in silence. Gabby spent that time thinking about how telling him about Noah’s threats and all her fears would only make his day worse.

  How could she do it when Jackson looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown? Thankfully he’d gone to the bagel shop instead of the liquor store, but if she shared her concerns and suggested they take a break while she figured stuff out, would it push him over the edge?

  “I’ll be right back,” she said as she parked in front of the day care center.

  “Okay.” Jackson didn’t move.

  When she returned with Luc, her son’s face lit up upon seeing Jackson.

  “Jackson, look.” Luc handed Jackson one of his crafts—a turkey made with a brown paper plate and colorful feathers.

  “Wow, buddy, this is awesome. I like the googly eyes.” Jackson rolled his own eyes while he shook the plate, making Luc giggle.

  Gabby’s heart squeezed hard as she backed out of the parking lot and headed home.

  “Dat’s for you, and deez are for Mama, Pappy, and Dada.” Luc kicked his feet in the car seat, carefree and happy like a three-year-old should be.

  Gabby noticed Jackson’s eyes water. His voice wobbled when he spoke. “Thanks, Luc. I’ll bring this with me to Connecticut, so it’ll be like you’re at the table with me at Thanksgiving.”

  “Okay,” Luc said, unaware that it had been Jackson’s gentle way of telling Luc he wouldn’t be around by then.

  “Should we give him a name?” Jackson asked, still turned around, facing Luc. “Tom?”

  “Not Tom!” Luc giggled, like Tom Turkey was the silliest name he’d ever heard. “Fwog!”

  “You want me to name him Frog? Frog Turkey?” Jackson asked in a silly voice, then he shook the plate again. “Guess that makes as much sense as these googly eyes.”

  Luc clapped with another giggle. And then, without hesitation, said, “Mama, I’m hungwee!”

  “When we get home, Mommy has to talk to Jackson first. You can show Pappy your crafts and watch TV for a little bit until I can cook.”

  They arrived at the house and found her dad walking around the driveway, building up his stamina.

  “Come over when you’re ready,” Jackson said to her, then he squatted and tapped Luc’s nose. “I love Frog Turkey, Luc. Thanks.”

  He stood and made his way to the apartment while she took Luc’s hand and led him inside, hoping she could get Luc settled quickly.

  As soon as Gabby entered the apartment, Jackson gathered her in his arms and held her. No kisses, no words, just a bear hug in which he clearly sought comfort rather than offered it.

  Her heart ached and she didn’t even know what had happened. She did know something had broken his spirit. Something big enough to make him walk out on his family, and maybe big enough to undo everything he’d been working so hard to accept.

  Gabby’s stomach burned as anxiety and guilt oozed through her veins. Why did people usually end up hurting each other? His family, Alison, Noah, her mother, and on and on. She yearned to comfort Jackson, but too soon he’d view her as yet another person who let him down.

  “Whatever happened, whatever happens next, you must believe everything will be okay, Jackson. We all heal with time, and every day is another chance to start over and be happy.” Gabby stroked his back and head. “Whatever was said in therapy, it seems to me like your family loves you very much.”

  “Love?” Jackson abruptly released her. “Honestly, I’m beginning to think no one but you knows what the hell that word means.”

  “What it means? Maybe it’s a state of being—of affection, esteem, concern, memories, friendship—just everything you feel about another person all rolled up in your heart.”

  “You make it sound like some whim. Like there’s no obligation or commitment.” He eased away, forehead wrinkled. “I don’t agree. Love is a choice. An act. A promise you make every day. And love doesn’t lie. Love doesn’t betray. Love doesn’t give up when things get hard.”

  Gabby swallow
ed the lump in her throat. The more he spoke, the more certain she became that her decision would deal him a knockout punch. If she’d eaten anything for lunch, she’d surely throw it up now. “Why don’t you tell me what happened so I can understand why you’re so hurt?”

  Jackson paced the room. She stood, waiting for him to speak. When he finally recited the events that unfolded in therapy, the weight of his anguish consumed the room. His continual pacing made her nearly dizzy as she tried to keep up with his words, to understand who’d done what to whom. How could she help him accept all this when she, too, would be handing him news he wouldn’t like?

  Her deafening thoughts temporarily preoccupied her, keeping her from realizing that he’d finally stopped talking. He’d stopped, period. No pacing. No movement at all. He stood by the window, looking out at nothing in particular.

  Given the state of her own mind, she couldn’t imagine the chaos inside his. She crossed to him and, from behind, wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his back, wishing she could stay like this forever. Wishing Noah would disappear from her life again instead of using her son and lack of resources against her.

  Jackson didn’t stiffen, but he didn’t turn around at first. When he finally did, he kissed her. Not the hungry, passionate kisses he’d showered her with before, nor the tender, loving ones she’d enjoyed so often. These were angry kisses. Kisses meant only to distract himself.

  These kisses hurt—not from roughness, but because she could feel all his pain.

  He stopped suddenly, his expression filled with misery. Before he could cry in front of her, she reached up around his neck and pulled him into another hug. She knew he was proud and wouldn’t want her to see him fall apart. If he cried over her shoulder, he could pretend she didn’t know how much he ached.

 

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