All Jacked Up

by Mysti Parker

  “That makes two of us. She showed up out of the blue in my driveway after I got home from work.”

  “Where had she been?”

  “I don’t know. Tennessee, I think she said.”

  “How long since you last saw her?”

  “Fourteen years. I was twelve when she left for good. We were all living with my grandparents. She was in and out of rehab after Dad…” He waves his hand and shakes his head as though he can’t or won’t relive those memories.

  “Okay. So is she here to stay? And where is she staying now?”

  “I don’t know if she’s here for the long haul, though she claims to be. We’ve heard all that before. For now, I’m letting her stay in my house.”

  I open my mouth to tell him to glue everything down, since I remember how Astraea’s first boyfriend stole all kinds of stuff from us to fuel his drug habit. That lasted only until Dad got wind of it and beat the tar out of him. He didn’t come back. Maybe Astraea’s still bitter about it, but she’s better off without him.

  But then I don’t know Jack’s mother, so I really can’t weigh in much.

  Jack holds up his hand and smiles. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping her under supervision. Mrs. Gonsalves takes no prisoners.” He takes another drink of water and drapes an arm on the back of his chair, propping his head on his hand. “But that’s the least of my worries. Jesse doesn’t know she’s back. I told her to stay put for now and not to contact him.”

  “Oh, and with the wedding tomorrow…”

  “Exactly.”

  “And you’re torn over whether to tell him now or not.”

  He nods, sighing as though sharing this burden has been lifted a bit from confiding in me. I’m glad I can do that for him. I shouldn’t care this much, but the longer I spend with Jack, the more I want to see him happy. That’s probably not a good thing, considering our situation, but it’s there anyway.

  I reach out and take his hand. “You think it should wait until after the wedding, but then you’ll feel guilty if he finds out she’s been back for a while and you didn’t tell him.”

  “Yes,” he says, looking at me as though he hadn’t expected me to know that. “I just don’t know what to do. She might decide to take off again before he even gets back from his honeymoon, so it would just hurt him more if he sees her now and then comes back to find her gone again.”

  “Then don’t tell him. That is, assuming she’s not going to attend the wedding.”

  “She’s not. I’ll make sure of that. I don’t want anything ruining the happiest day of his life.”

  My heart melts at all the honesty spilling out of him tonight, both physically and verbally. It’s a side of Jack I never thought I’d see. A side of him I doubt he’s ever shown anyone before. What does that mean, exactly? I can’t read more into this, or I’m destined for heartbreak.

  “I totally understand. I’d be a wreck in your situation.”

  “You’d be more decisive, I bet.” He smiles at me, squeezes my hand. “Are all the wedding preparations done?”

  “As done as they can be, so long as my dress is still intact.” I look down and inspect what I can see of the bodice and skirt while I’m still wearing it.

  He grimaces. “I hope I didn’t damage it.”

  “I don’t think so. Nothing I can’t fix anyway.”

  “Um, listen, I was wondering if you could stay with me tonight if I promise no reptile wake-up calls.”

  Like I could say no, with the sweet vulnerability in his eyes. “Of course I can.”

  “I’ll be happy to get you out of that dress, too.”

  His cocky, flirtatious grin brings goose bumps to my skin and rekindles the heat between my legs. We stand, and I turn around. As he unzips my dress, slowly kissing his way down my back, I close my eyes, allowing one thought to fly freely through my mind.

  I’m hopelessly in love with Jack Maddox, and so help me, I’ll convince him to love me too.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jack

  Breakfast is an awkward affair this morning. By all appearances, it seems pleasant, sitting in the breakfast nook at the end of the kitchen, surrounded by a big bay window that spills light onto our little gathering. Reggie's not happy with me for moving him to the living room. I can hear him in there, chattering and scratching around, probably tossing his food and feces out of the cage for revenge. I'd rather not have bothered, but I have company this morning. Across the table from me sits my once-presumed dead mother and beside me, my fake fiancée.

  Mrs. Gonsalves slides an omelet onto my mother’s plate, scowling at her the whole time. Lori doesn’t notice. She digs in, eating her omelet with the gusto of someone who’s been starved of a decent meal for too long.

  I’m surprised she’s still here, honestly. Even more surprised that nothing appears to be missing. Mrs. Gonsalves locked up all the usual temptations as I had instructed. She made it abundantly clear, however, that she did not approve of taking in this strange woman whether she’s my mother or not.

  Avery takes tiny bites of her veggie omelet, afraid she’ll not fit in her bridesmaid dress tonight. She looks a little pale, no doubt stressed way more than she should be. Her glances between me and Lori tell me she finds it odd that we’re not talking. Apparently, her family is a bunch of jaw-flappers, which explains how chatty she can be.

  My appetite isn’t what it usually is, either, considering the woman who gave me life was dead to me just hours ago.

  Smiling nervously, Avery sips her hot tea and breaks the silence. “So, um, where all have you been, Mrs. Maddox? Jack says you’ve travelled a lot. I’d love to travel more. Can you believe I’ve only been to three states?”

  Lori finishes her last bite of omelet and wipes her mouth. She wrinkles her forehead and does a silent finger count. “I reckon I’ve been to about twenty states. The west coast is real nice, especially up around Oregon and those big redwood trees. Cost of living is sky-high though.”

  “Sounds amazing. Maybe you can show me some pictures sometime.”

  "Maybe." Lori glances at me and lifts one corner of her mouth in a smile that reminds me all too much of Jesse. “Does Jack still mumble in his sleep? We used to get so tickled at him."

  "To be honest, I don't know," Avery says.

  "Oh, come on now, I know you two are sleeping together."

  "How would you know that?" I ask, not liking the direction of this conversation.

  "I saw her come out of your room this morning. It's fine, you know. We're all adults."

  I'm about to remind her that I don't need her permission to have a love life, when Avery squeezes my hand under the table.

  She laughs. "Actually, I don't know if he mumbles or not because I sleep like a log. Unless there's an iguana in my face, that is."

  "Yeah, we found that out the hard way," I say with a chuckle, thankful Avery steered things into more neutral territory.

  "Did it bite you?" Lori asks.

  "No..." Avery answers, her tone hesitant. "Why? Did he bite you? Jack, I thought you said Earl doesn't bite."

  "He doesn't," I confirm.

  Lori shakes her head, smiling. "No, he didn't. I was just asking because you have a little scar there by your ear. Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it."

  "That's okay. It's from a car accident."

  "Oh, I hope you weren't hurt too bad. I crashed my car into a creek one time. Broke a few ribs."

  I can't let that one slide. "You were drunk. You're lucky you didn't kill yourself or someone else."

  Lori averts her eyes, pours some more coffee from the carafe with shaky hands. Avery squeezes my hand harder, giving me a warning look that I've gone too far.

  "I was hurt pretty bad," Avery says. "Traumatic brain injury. Left me in a coma for a few days, and that's how I met Leigh. We were hospital neighbors."

  Remembering what Dr. Bradshaw had told me, I decide to press a bit further. "Were you driving or...?"

  "No, I was too young. Just t
hirteen." She swallows hard, her eyes tearing up.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

  "It's okay. I don't talk about it much. My...grandparents... They had taken me to a Katy Perry concert in Louisville for my birthday. They were really cool like that. We had so much fun." She smiles and stirs her tea with a faraway look in her eyes. "Anyway, my grandfather… They think he fell asleep at the wheel, ran off the road, and hit a tree. The car caught fire." Her voice breaks and quietens to barely above a whisper. "They told me someone pulled me out, but my grandparents didn't make it."

  "I'm sorry to hear that," Lori says. She looks and sounds as though she really means it.

  I take Avery's hand in both of mine, but then something clicks, a memory that I had tried to forget like so many from my past. But I never made the connection until now.

  Avery gives me a questioning look, but I just smile back and give her hand a comforting squeeze. She wipes her mouth, dabs her eyes, and scoots her chair back. A smile trembles on her lips. “Well, I hate to eat and run, but I’ve got lots to do for the”—she looks at me, and I give her a slight shake of my head—“thing tonight. Don’t be late, okay, Jack?”

  “I won’t. Do you need any extra help?” Meaning: Get me out of here so I don’t have to deal with Lori.

  “No, Glen will be there, but thanks.” Either she didn’t take the hint or thinks I need to buck up and be man. Probably the latter. She gets up and hesitates before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. “See you tonight. It was lovely meeting you, Mrs. Maddox.”

  “Yeah, nice meeting you too,” Lori says with a quick smile then concentrates on buttering some toast.

  In another world, this would just be a normal Sunday morning brunch with my fiancée and mother. I gave up envying “normal” families a long time ago. It’s useless, and besides, no family is perfect, no matter how spotless they appear to the outside world. I just wish I could have made it a better experience for Avery instead of bringing up things I should have left alone until a better time arose.

  Once Avery’s gone, Lori munches on her toast, glancing up at me as though she’d like to say something but doesn’t know where to start.

  She finally meets my gaze. “She’s real pretty. I’m glad you’re marrying her.”

  “Oh…thanks. Yeah, she’s really pretty. Smart, too. And spunky.” Then I realize that I’ll have to figure out what to do about her when Avery and I get pretend-married. Damn it, why does this have to be so complicated?

  “I like her. Your dad would have liked her too.”

  “Would he?” She has a lot of nerve, even mentioning him. Maybe all the drugs have erased her memory.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I don’t need his approval, and I don’t need yours.” I quickly scoot my chair back and stand, giving my mouth a quick swipe with my napkin. “If you’ll excuse me, I have things to do. You can hang out here today, watch TV or something. Help yourself to whatever’s in the pantry.”

  She looks at me, her expression limp and tired. “And tomorrow?”

  “We’ll take care of that when it gets here.”

  “Okay. I meant it when I said I wanted to start over, Jack.”

  “I know. The thing is, I think you do want to. I think you’ve always wanted to. You just seem to have a hard time putting words to actions.”

  Lori sighs, staring down at her plate as though her toast might offer some sound advice.

  Mrs. Gonsalves follows me out of the kitchen and taps me hard on the shoulder before I go upstairs. She whispers harshly, “You should tell her to go. Get her a hotel room.”

  “I can’t do that. Not yet. She’ll do something stupid and ruin Jesse’s wedding. Just keep an eye on her until tonight.”

  She crosses her arms, one eyebrow cocked, lips pursed. “I’m not a security guard.”

  “Then get Mr. Gonsalves to help you.”

  “He’s not a guard, either.”

  “Look, if she does anything suspicious or takes off, just call me. You don’t have to get physical.”

  She shakes her head.

  “Okay, then. How about two weeks in Spain?”

  Her eyes light up. She’s been talking about going back to Spain for ages. Apparently, she and Mr. Gonsalves had gone there for their honeymoon some thirty years ago and hadn’t been back since.

  “First class?”

  “Sure. First class.”

  “Hotel?”

  “The finest. Whatever you want. Train tour, rental car, hell, I’ll even buy you a tent if you want to go backpacking and camping. You plan it. I’ll pay for it, if you’ll just keep an eye on my…Lori tonight, okay?”

  She answers with one firm nod and returns to the kitchen.

  I may not be good at family conflict, but bribery? I’m all over that. Now I just have to figure out how to tell Avery what I know about her wreck. It’ll have to wait.

  ∞∞∞

  Summer in Kentucky can be oppressively hot and humid, but also unpredictable. Oh, who am I kidding? It’s unpredictable every season. A storm blew up in the afternoon, which freaked Avery the hell out. But Mother Nature must have heard her pleas and decided to have mercy. The storm fizzled out quickly, giving her and Glen plenty of time to dry things off and tidy up.

  Now stars are strewn about the indigo sky. The moon is almost full, adding its light to the main event. Though weddings are not my jam, I’m quite frankly amazed at what Avery’s done with the place. Jesse’s backyard and the area around the pond has been turned into a wedding goer’s paradise.

  The gazebo is draped in white gauzy fabric, with flowers winding down every post on the structure. A string of bright white lights with frosted bulbs circles the roof. More lights are strung between tiki torches that also serve as bug repellent (our unofficial state bird is the mosquito, don’t ya’ know), which form a path from the driveway to the gazebo. Much to Avery’s disdain, there is no red carpet, because Leigh insisted on walking barefoot across the grass. To the left and right of the path are chairs draped in more gauzy material, and to the left of that is a tent big enough to accommodate the small audience for a reception to follow.

  We’re in our grandpa Sylvester’s trailer where Jesse and I finished growing up after our dad died and our mom disappeared. Jesse and Pa still live here, but won’t for long. Jesse and Leigh’s new house is almost finished. They bought the adjoining land and decided to build there so they could be close to Pa, who’s been ailing for a few years now.

  I look out the window down the hill where we’ll be heading shortly.

  There are about thirty guests in total, all chatting happily in their seats while the DJ at the rear of the gazebo plays sappy love songs, which are definitely not my jam. But tonight’s not about me. This is my brother’s night. And he’s a bundle of nerves.

  “Is my tie crooked?” He yanks on his bowtie.

  “No, but you’re making it crooked.” I reach up and straighten it for him. Again.

  Pa lets out a raspy laugh. “Ain’t no matter what you look like. I’ll be the best-looking fella out there.” He raises from his lift chair and shuffles over to us with help from his cane. The smell of mothballs wafts up with each labored step. The slightly baggy, wrinkled suit he’s wearing must be circa 1970 from the look of it.

  I straighten his tie too. Apparently I’m the only man here who knows his way around formal wear. “You clean up all right, Pa. How long’s it been since you’ve worn a suit?”

  “This old thing? Well…” He shrugs, and one look from Jesse confirms what I suspected. The last time he wore it was at our grandmother’s funeral a couple years after our dad died. Lorraine was a tough woman who kept Pa and her grandsons in line. But when she was alive, we had a steady home life, we didn’t miss a meal, did our chores, went to school, and went to church. At first, we balked against such routines, but after a while, it was a comfort we came to appreciate. For once in our lives, we could go to bed without worrying if we’d still have a roof o
ver our heads or if we’d have to go hungry the next day.

  But then she died, and things fell apart. Pa sank into depression and couldn’t keep us in line like Mamaw did. Jesse became the devil incarnate for a few years, while I took off to college and became a vet. I was determined to never wake up hungry again and separate myself from my white-trash heritage, which meant I didn’t speak to Pa or Jesse beyond what was necessary until a year ago.

  We all need to make up for lost time.

  Pa’s new live-in nurse, Emmalee, slides open the patio door and quickly steps into the kitchen to keep the moths and mayflies from getting in. “Jesse, hon, it’s time. Leigh and the bridal party just arrived. Let me help you down the steps, Sylvester, okay?”

  “How about we let the boys go ahead, and you and I get frisky?” Pa’s raspy laugh rings out again.

  “Sylvester, hon, while I’d love to take you up on that offer, we ain’t got time to take you to the hospital tonight with a broken hip. Now come on, you old coot, let’s get down there and get you settled.” Emmalee is a widow in her fifties who isn’t fazed by his cheekiness, unlike the other nurses who never lasted long. She’s perfect for him.

  Pa frowns. “You’re no fun. But I’m havin’ me some cake if I have to whoop somebody upside the head with my cane.”

  “I promise you can have a nice big piece of cake. If you behave and if your glucose ain’t too bad, that is.”

  “Elder abuse, that’s what this is.” He’s trying to sound mad, but he can’t hide the little smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. Pa shuffles off with Emmalee holding his arm to keep him steady as they walk across the deck and down the steps.

  We follow several steps behind.

  “Are they dating?” I ask Jesse quietly.

  He laughs. “No, I don’t think so. Pa goes on a lot, but he’s happy just to have the company when I’m at work.”

  We finally reach the gazebo, where Jesse messes with his tie again, and I have to straighten it for him again.