“I’m not built for what you want.”
“You don’t know what I want,” she replied, eyes stinging with unshed tears.
“Sure I do. You’re no different than all the other women I’ve been with. You want a family. A husband. Couple of kids. Maybe a dog or two. A cat.” His face was harsh in the dim light. “You want the white picket fence, and that’s not something I have any interest in.”
Her teeth began to chatter. “I don’t believe you.”
Something changed. A subtle shift in his eyes and he walked to her. He took her shaking hands into his and pulled her close. But it wasn’t so that he could kiss her or hug her and make her feel better. It wasn’t to draw comfort from her or accept her love.
“It was a good ride while it lasted but we were never going to work, Grace. This is as good a time as any to make a clean break. I don’t want or need your help. I just…I have to deal with this on my own.”
His words hurt. So badly that she bit her tongue in order not to cry out.
“Why won’t you let me help you?”
He stared at her for so long that her eyes blurred and her throat closed painfully.
“When you finally have time to think about everything I just told you, you’ll realize that I’ve done you a favor. I’m not the guy for you, Grace. You deserve a hell of a lot more.”
“You don’t get to decide who I want and what I deserve.”
“I am deciding. You should go.” Matt dropped her hands and turned away. He crossed the room and sat on the chair near his father’s bed, leaving Grace shaking and alone.
She slowly turned and, without another word, left the room because if she didn’t she’d fall to floor and melt into a puddle of tears.
Her heart was breaking and there was nothing she could do.
30
There was an old Hank Williams song that Matt couldn’t get out of his head. He sat by his father’s bed for hours and the only thing he could hear was Hank’s mournful voice. The song was a stark, barren ode to loneliness and Matt felt every word as if they were his story. He’d been on his own since he was sixteen and not once did he remember ever feeling this lonely.
It was nearly noon and he was dead tired. His father wouldn’t last the day and here he was, about to collect a brother he’d only seen once so that the kid could say goodbye to his dad.
Delilah had insisted on staying with Benjamin and that rubbed Matt the wrong way. He couldn’t figure her out. It bothered him that he didn’t know what angle she was playing. And there was no question that an angle was in play, but which one?
He pulled up in front of his father’s modest bungalow and cut the engine just as his phone buzzed. He fished it out of his pocket and scrolled through the messages.
One was from Dory assuring him she was fine, staying on a few more days at his place and looking after Rosie and the pups.
The second was from Betty.
“Call me now.”
He stared at the screen and when his phone buzzed again, he answered on the first ring. It was Betty.
“Hey. Are you…how is Benjamin?”
Matt cleared his throat. “Not good.”
There was static and he asked the question that had been in his head for hours. “Where are you? Where’s Grace?”
“I’m at a hotel waiting to see if you need me.”
“I’m good.”
“Bullshit. You’re not good.”
“That may be true, but I need to do this alone.”
“That’s what I figured.” She paused. “Grace has already left for Nashville.”
“Nashville,” he replied. “Guess I ruined her holiday.”
“That’s all you got? Guess I ruined her holiday?” Betty Jo was fired up and he sighed, rubbing his temples.
“Betty, it’s not like we were ever gonna make it.”
“How do you know that? Dammit, Matt. She’s the one. And trust me, I never thought there would be a one for you. I can’t believe you don’t see that.”
“I told her things. Things I’ve never shared with anyone. Trust me. Once she thinks about it. Once she figures out just how screwed up I really am, she’ll be thanking me.”
Betty swore. Said a whole lot of things she was damn lucky her husband couldn’t hear. “You have to stop, Matt.”
“Stop what?” he barked.
“You have to stop making decisions for other people. You have to stop running from love and you need to smash the martyr mantle. It’s getting old, and it’s not looking so good on you anymore.”
His face darkened and he glanced up at the house. He really didn’t want to do this right now.
“I love you. You know that, Matt. I don’t know what fucked up shit went on between you and your father and Delilah. But I can guess. And if you think that’s enough to scare off Grace, your wrong. It doesn’t even come close.”
He had to stop her, partly because he needed to get Justin…but mostly because he didn’t want to hear her truth.
“Betty—“
“I’m talking and you need to listen to me. You need to listen very carefully. I used to think your problem was that you thought you didn’t deserve happiness. But I don’t think that’s it.”
He scowled and considered hanging up. And that damn pain was back, sliding across his temples making him wince.
“I think you’re afraid of it. Happiness, I mean. I think you’re afraid to grab it because you had it once when you were small, when your mom was still around. You had it and then you didn’t.”
Matt’s mouth was clenched together so tightly, now his jaw ached as much as his temple.
“You don’t want Grace in your life because you’re afraid you’ll lose her. I get it, Matt. I really do. But the thing is, if you don’t take that chance. If you don’t accept her love, which, trust me, you’re damn lucky to have, you’ll never know.”
“Never know what?” he asked, forcing his vocal chords to work.
“You’ll never know that all along you were wrong about pretty much everything.”
A few seconds ticked by. “I gotta go and deal with this.”
“You’re running again,” Betty Jo said softly. “Promise me you’ll think about what I said. Promise me you’ll think about being happy.”
“I’ll call you when I’m back in New Waterford.”
Matt slid the phone back into the pocket of his jeans and got out of his truck. His legs moved slowly, and he had to take a moment to get his bearings. He needed to focus.
He pushed aside his conversation with Betty Jo and made a concerted effort not to think about Grace. He could only deal with one thing at a time, and Lord knows the next few days were going to be brutal.
A small dog shot out of nowhere, barking crazily as it ran across the yard and then disappeared around the corner. Matt strode up the walkway and hesitated at the door. Did he knock? Did he just walk in? He decided to do both and was just about to knock when the door slowly opened and he found himself face to face with a much younger version of himself. It was uncanny.
The kid was tall and skinny, with dark hair that hung to his shoulders and a pale complexion that emphasized the bruises under his eyes. That told Matt a lot. The kid was walking the same path that he’d walked nearly twenty years ago.
“You been up all night, Justin? You high?”
“Who the hell are you?” The tone was belligerent, but Matt supposed the kid had ever right.
“I’m Matt.”
Justin glared at him and it was obvious he knew exactly who Matt was. “Why are you here?” Justin shot back, leaning to the side so that Matt couldn’t see into the house.
“Delilah told me to come get you. Your father is…our father…” Justin winced and Matt faltered. Shit. He had no clue how to deal with an already screwed up fifteen-year-old. “You need to come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” His face was hard, and damn, it was like looking into a mirror. “What do you care anyway? It’s no
t like you ever came around before.”
Matt took a step forward and Justin had to move back. He shoved past the kid and walked into the house. “I’m going to be honest with you, Justin. I don’t really know what the hell it is that I’m doing here. It’s sad and screwed up that we’ve never gotten to know each other. I’m winging it here, and we’re both going to have to step up. To get through this, you’re going to have put aside all that shit. Because that stuff we can deal with later.”
Justin shoved his hands into the front of his pockets. He hunched his shoulders and Matt was again struck by the similarities. This kid was his brother. Justin didn’t say a word, but his posture screamed out his pain.
“My mom sent you?” he asked, his gaze meeting Matt’s once more.
“Yes. She’s at the hospice.”
Justin snorted. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Matt frowned. Something wasn’t right. He walked down the short hallway to the kitchen and noted the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and more on the counter. He opened the fridge which was mostly empty and than wandered down the hall to the bedrooms. He passed a laundry room overflowing with clothes on the floor.
“Hey, you just can’t walk into my place like that.” Justin ran after him, but Matt had already poked his nose into all three bedrooms.
Matt turned to Justin. It was obvious the kid was on his own. “Where’s your mother staying?”
Instantly the kid’s eyes narrowed and anger flushed his cheeks a ruddy shade of pink. “I don’t know and I don’t care. She doesn’t live here anymore. Hasn’t in months.”
The urge to punch something was strong, and Matt clenched his fists together, searching for that place of calm. Hoping he found it before his temper got the best of him and he did something stupid.
“Were you ever missing?”
Confusion crept over Justin’s face. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Matt stared at the boy until the anger in him receded. He would figure this out, but right now he needed to get Justin to the hospice.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Justin glared at him. “Can I at least have a shower?”
Matt turned toward the kitchen. “You’ve got twenty minutes.”
Justin was back in ten, hair still wet and slicked back, dressed in a wrinkled AC/DC T-shirt and jeans that had seen better days. They headed out in the truck and just as they pulled into the hospice Justin spoke.
“How is he?”
Matt cut the engine and turned to the boy. “Not good.” He paused. “When was the last time you saw him?”
Justin shrugged. “A few days ago. I took the bus. He just slept a lot.”
“How long have you been living on your own?”
Matt didn’t think that Justin would answer him but after a few moments he spoke, his voice high and thin. “I don’t know. Two months I guess.”
Red hot anger coursed through Matt. Two months and this kid had been living on his own. Two months. What the hell was going on?
“Let’s go,” he said.
Matt got out of his truck and turned in a circle, eyes moving over the vehicles parked in the lot. Delilah’s old SUV was nowhere in sight, but he’d worry about that later. They headed into Compassionate Care and the lady at the front desk smiled when she caught sight of Justin.
“Hey sweetie. I was hoping to see you today.”
“Hi Mrs. Jefferson.”
Mrs. Jefferson came out from behind the counter and walked over to them. Her shiny white shoes squeaked with every step she took, and the smile on her caramel colored face told Matt that she knew it. Gray frosted the front of her dark curly hair, and her light blue eyes sparkled.
“You must be, Matt. Nice to meet you.” She winked at Justin. “Your father was right. You are his double.”
Justin didn’t answer, and Matt didn’t know what to say.
Mrs. Jefferson’s smile slowly faded. “It’s good that you’re both here. His time is short.” She hugged Justin and told him she’d bring up a soda and a packet of biscuits before turning to Matt.
“I’m so happy you were able to make it.” She frowned. “I have something for you. Hold on.”
Justin headed upstairs and Matt waited for Mrs. Jefferson.
She went back to her desk and searched a bit before coming back to him with a crisp white envelope. “He gave this to me about a month or so ago. Said if you ever showed up to make sure I gave it to you.” She handed Matt the envelope, her kind eyes soft. “He wants you to read it after he passes.”
Matt glanced down. The handwriting was the same—bold scribbles with perfectly spaced letters. It said simply, Mathew.
“Can I ask you something?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“How often is Delilah here?”
Mrs. Jefferson’s face fell and her features hardened. “This morning was the first time in well over a month that I’ve seen her. Justin comes on his own pretty much every day after school, but he’s been spotty lately. It’s hard for him. A boy his age losing a father.”
He thanked Mrs. Jefferson and headed up to 211. One of the nurses on duty stopped him in the hall. Her voice was gentle, said she thought he should know Benjamin’s passing would be soon. They’d upped his pain dosage and he was comfortable. She made it clear that his father wasn’t experiencing any pain.
Just ninety minutes later, Benjamin Hawkins passed away without opening his eyes or speaking another word.
Justin was quiet. He didn’t speak and he sure as hell didn’t cry. As for Matt, he didn’t know what it was that he was feeling exactly. It was a bunch of stuff all mixed together. An emotional cocktail that packed a punch.
No one at Compassionate Care could get hold of Delilah and neither could he. So Matt drove Justin home, his mind racing, that emotional cocktail hitting hard. There were plans to make, a kid who needed looking after.
Hell, he didn’t know where to start.
He walked into the bungalow that his father had called home for well over a decade—a house whose threshold he’d never been allowed to cross—and watched Justin head to his room. The door slammed shut, a sad echo in an empty, quiet home.
What the hell was he going to do with this kid?
He stood there in the half light for a good long while and then took off his jacket as he headed down the hall. Matt paused in front of Justin’s door and knocked. “I saw eggs in the fridge. You feel like an omelette?”
He waited, bunching his jacket up in his hands and was finally rewarded with a muffled, ‘yes.’
It wasn’t much. But it was a start.
31
Grace was only in Nashville long enough to gather up her clothes and anything else she might need before heading to New York City. Tucker and Abby had left for the south of France directly after Thanksgiving, and their apartment was hers for the time being.
With only a few weeks until the Christmas Eve gala, she had a ton of work to do, and right now she needed all the distraction she could get. Working from the Simon Foundation office in Manhattan certainly helped. There were always people about, crises to deal with and by the time she got home at night, she was exhausted.
She knew Matt’s father had passed—Betty Jo had called with the news—but that was two weeks ago and she hadn’t heard one word from Matt. She thought that she’d be angry and upset. But all she felt was sad and empty and kind of lost.
With a sigh, Grace glanced out her office window at the spectacular view of Central Park. It was 4:30 in the afternoon and the sky was full of heavy clouds. With evening fast approaching, lights twinkled, reflecting off the snow-topped trees. It was beautiful, a scene that usually brought a smile to her face but tonight it did nothing for her.
Good job she’d worn a green sweater today because she was without a doubt, no better than the Grinch.
The door to her office opened and she smiled for the first time in days as a tall, handsome man walked through. “Cooper! I didn’t kn
ow you were in New York City.”
He gave her a hug. “I’m only here overnight. Heading out to New England until after the holidays. Thought you could use some cheering up.”
Her smile faltered. Wow. Did everyone know her sad, pathetic little secret?
“Mom put you up to this.”
Cooper grabbed her jacket and tossed it to her. “She might have mentioned that you could use some fun.”
Fun. “I don’t even know what that means anymore.”
“Then I’m sure as hell glad I stopped by.” He winked. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Cooper Simon had more charm in his little pinky than most men managed to acquire in a lifetime. There was no way she could resist.
“Okay.” She reached for her navy blue trench. “But I might be a drag. Just saying.”
They headed over to The Black Dog, a pub not far from Times Square, one owned by Abby Mathews, Tucker’s wife’s family. Her oldest brother Mitch was behind the bar and he greeted Cooper with a hearty handshake and Grace with a big hug.
“I guess you’ve heard the news?” Mitch said with a smile as he filled a large mug of dark ale for Cooper.
“I was just about to tell Grace.”
Grace looked at Cooper and then back to Mitch. Something was up.
“What’s going on?”
Mitch handed her a blue cocktail—something called a Jack Frost—and then said he’d let Cooper spill. She followed her cousin over to a booth in the corner and once they were settled, she arched an eyebrow and waited.
“You know how Abby and Tucker have been trying for a kid, right?”
She nodded slowly. “I knew there were problems. Tucker told me she’d had a miscarriage in the spring.”
“She’s had several miscarriages, all within a few weeks of getting pregnant. I don’t know the details but she had a procedure last summer and she’s just made it through her first trimester. I don’t think she’s out of the woods yet, but it’s a big win for them.”
“That’s amazing.” Grace was thrilled. No wonder Abby had been so quiet up north. A frown quickly stole her smile. “How long have you known?”
Grace (The Family Simon Book 5) Page 19