Knots

by Chanse Lowell

  “It’s not because I don’t have a place to keep it safe right now—it’s because I trust you, and I’m sorry I snapped a few moments ago.”

  His stomach flipped so hard, he had to lean back into his heels to steady himself. God, she had his eyes welling now, too, because he was so touched by her statement and show of faith. He tried to swallow down the thick emotions swirling in his body.

  “You’re forgiven, Jeanie,” he said, finally feeling like he’d earned the right to call her that.

  She smiled, and her eyes glistened with water like Pono’s dad.

  “Jeanie—I’m glad you called me that, Sir.”

  “I am, too.”

  She blinked, and her gaze went down to the floor. The moment was intensely intimate as they stood in the hallway.

  “And, just so we’re straight—I’ll only let you worry about me and others unless it’s hurting you, then there’s no way I’m gonna allow it.”

  She smiled and looked him in the eye once more. He put his hand on her lower back, and instantly, he felt at home again.

  She sighed. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, my sweet little thing.”

  She moved with him and whispered, “I don’t know why I like the sound of that, but I do.”

  “It’s because you like the sound of us being together.” He led her into the kitchen.

  She gave him a questioning look, almost like she was asking him how he knew she wanted to be taken to this exact spot.

  “Can we help you with anything, Toloa?” he asked.

  “Just set the table, would you?” She pointed at the plates, cups and silverware she had set out on the counter.

  “Sure,” Jeanie answered. “Whatever you need.”

  Mark maneuvered himself behind her as she went to grab the stack of plates. “No, that’s your line to me.” He ran his fingertip down her spine, then pulled the plates out of her hands.

  She gave him a mock pissed off look, fighting off a smile, then grabbed the cups and utensils instead.

  “It’s going to be a nice lunch,” Toloa said loudly as they were on their way out of the room.

  “It always is when you’re cooking,” Kueili said as he walked into the room.

  Jeanie smiled and followed Mark into the dining area.

  As soon as the table was set, the family filtered in.

  “Oh, Jay—I didn’t know you were here,” Jeanie said to Pono’s younger, eighteen-year-old brother.

  He was only two years older than Marly, but he was a foot and a half taller than her. He’d probably be taller than Pono’s six-foot-five in a few months—the kid kept growing and never seemed to stop. Hell, that would mean he’d dwarf Mark as well.

  Not many people managed that.

  “Yeah, I was outside. I just put all Jeanie’s gifts from the funeral in a box by your car,” Jay told Mark. “Plus—it gets hot in this house—I keep telling Mom to turn the air conditioning on in the summer, but she never listens. At least Pono used to be able to talk her into it, but maybe it’s because he was the favorite.” He nudged his mother.

  She glared at him, then snorted. “He was older than you, not the favorite, and I listen to all my children.”

  He sat down next to Jeanie, and Marly entered the room, eyeing Mark right away.

  She scowled when Mark sat on the other side of Jeanie. Really, he ought to see if she wanted to sit next to the guest of honor, but at this point, he didn’t give a shit what Marly wanted. He was here for Jeanie—to get her through.

  When he glanced over at Jeanie’s hand, he expected to see her wearing her wedding ring again, but it was absent. She hadn’t put it back on.

  A warm, honeyed feeling drifted through his body and then coated the insides of his chest at her bravery to show up here without wearing it. It sent a clear signal to Pono’s family she was moving on.

  She doesn’t want to wear it. She wants me . . .

  “Sit down, please, so we can say the blessing on the food,” Toloa told her daughter, standing a few feet away, looking rigid and mad as hell.

  “How about I go get the food first?”

  “Not today. We’ll all serve ourselves. The food stays in the kitchen,” her mother said.

  “Then what was the point in setting the table?” Marly crossed her arms over her stomach.

  “There are reasons you don’t always need to know.” Toloa pointed at the seat beside her.

  Marly slunk over, plopped herself down in the chair and huffed.

  Kueili acted like his daughter was fine, ignored her little tantrum and blessed the food.

  When it was all over, Toloa announced, “When my papa died, this is what we did. We all sat around the table, said one nice memory we had of him and then when we went to get our food we took only what we thought he would’ve eaten and his portions as well.”

  Jeanie shifted in her chair toward Mark. He did the same in her direction.

  “What a thoughtful gesture, only Jeanie’s a small woman. There’s no way she could eat as much as Pono did. She can take half of what he would’ve eaten, and I’ll make up the difference for her.” Mark beamed at Toloa.

  “Oh . . . W-well, I guess that would be . . .” Toloa’s face reddened.

  He knew what she was thinking. They had always bragged about how this white girl Pono married could pack it away like the rest of them. He also knew Jeanie only did it to please them, not because she wanted to down that much food. Well, today that stopped. She was to please him, and him alone.

  “That’s not fair! I don’t wanna eat like a pig like Pono did. You know I’ve been trying to lose weight for dance class when school begins in a few weeks,” Marly whined.

  “You’ll eat it,” her father said. “Get your plate, and no more complaints. One day of eating something substantial won’t hurt you.”

  She frowned but did as she was told, leading the way as the first to leave the room with her plate.

  The rest of them got up and did the same, only Mark made sure to keep in front of Jeanie.

  He plated up her food for her, breaking the rules Toloa set, but he’d be damned if Jeanie felt obligated, and he knew she would take as much food as the rest of them.

  He’d seen her eat when she was in her comfort zone. She did it with gusto, but she’d already balked at the amount of breakfast he’d made her just this morning, which meant she really didn’t eat that much. More than most women, perhaps, but not a ton where she went psycho and overfilled her stomach. The woman was sensible about it, and of course, he loved that about her, too.

  He smiled at her when he could feel how uncomfortable she was as they made their way past each dish.

  When the food was all piled up on everyone’s plates, they all went back to the table and took their same spots from before.

  “I’ll get the poi,” Toloa said.

  She got up, and Jay grabbed her by the wrist. “I’ll get it.”

  She got all choked up, sat down and nodded. He promptly left the room.

  “Always such a good boy,” Toloa whispered, her voice hoarse.

  “You need to tell me how to raise my future children to be this wonderful,” Mark said.

  “You have to find a woman and capture her heart first before I’ll give away any secrets,” she replied.

  Out of nowhere, a soft, warm hand landed on his thigh under the table. He gripped it.

  Jeanie sighed as if in relief.

  “Shouldn’t be hard for you—all the women watch you,” Marly told him.

  “Watching isn’t the same thing as catching.” Mark softened his smile for her, hoping to tone down her animosity. “And I’m not about to settle for just anyone.”

  “Yeah—we noticed.” Marly stabbed the pork on her plate and bit into it like she was a savage, keeping her eyes on him.

  “So, I heard you’re taking summer dance classes right now. How’re they going?” Jeanie asked Marly, breaking the tension.

  “Good. I’m one of the top dancers
. Mrs. Jolson said I could go professional the moment I graduate. I hope so, but I still know I need to lose more weight. They don’t tell me that, but I can see they think I’m fat. And I definitely wanna go pro.” The tendons in Marly’s neck were less noticeable now.

  “What’s your specialty?” Mark asked.

  “I pretty much do almost everything, but I prefer hip hop, jazz and contemporary.” Marly looked smug now.

  “She’s amazing—I love attending her concerts if there’s one when I’m in town,” Jeanie said.

  He could easily imagine going to one with Jeanie after she moved here. That was assuming she was serious about taking up residence in California. He’d do his damnedest to persuade her to do it. He needed her here, and it was obvious Pono’s family felt the same.

  “Why don’t we dance like we used to after dinner? I think Pono would like that,” Marly said, her remarks aimed solely at Jeanie.

  “Sure. I’m not as flexible as I used to be, but I’ll dance with you if you’d like.” Jeanie smiled.

  “I would!” Marly radiated with full joy back at her.

  It was clear this young woman idolized his sweet little thing. He couldn’t blame her. Jeanie had this warmth, this glow about her that sucked people in. She was always genuine, and it was obvious she cared deeply about the people she was surrounded by.

  “Should be fun to watch,” Mark mused.

  When he looked over at Jeanie’s plate, she was halfway through her meal. He’d been too busy touching her under the table to bother with the food, so he took his hands back and began eating.

  “See?” Toloa said, pointing at Marly’s and then Jeanie’s plate. “This is why we love this haole, and why she belongs with us. She knows how to eat!”

  They all chuckled, including Jeanie, but it didn’t touch her eyes. Something was off, and she even looked almost sick about it.

  “That was the first thing Pono told me about you,” Kueili said. “He said, ‘Papa, you gotta see this white girl dig in! She eats as if tomorrow there’s gonna be no food left.’ I told him right there, ‘Sounds like a dream girl. Marry that one.’”

  Jeanie set her fork down and brought her other hand under the table. Mark’s hands automatically did the same. Her fingers sought his hand out, and she cupped his hand between both of hers. His heart fluttered at her turning to him for comfort.

  Mark cleared his throat. “Pono was always a smart guy. I’m glad he enjoyed the good times with Jeanie. We all should be so lucky.”

  Toloa wiped a tear out of her eye. “Yes, he was always smart. I was happy he finished school and worked so hard at his job.”

  “He’s the only man I know that wanted to be a nurse, working in the ER,” Marly said, an odd expression on her face as she stared at Jeanie.

  Was it because both of Jeanie’s hands were under the table, and she was angled toward Mark? Did she know Jeanie had a death grip on him?

  “It was a demanding job—the poor boy. He was always exhausted. Every time he called me, I asked him if he was eating enough,” Toloa said.

  A choked sob emanated out of the back of Jeanie’s throat.

  “He tried his best to take care of himself,” Kueili said. “We all worried, but none of us knew . . .”

  Jeanie’s head dropped.

  “Knew what?” Mark asked.

  “About his heart condition,” Marly answered. “If he had done something about it, maybe taken the proper medication, he never would’ve had that heart attack and died.” She shot her eyes at Jeanie once more.

  “I didn’t know until the day before it happened that he had any health problems at all,” Jeanie said. “If I had, I certainly never would’ve allowed him to . . .”

  Mark’s gut tightened. Oh shit . . . He wasn’t aware his friend had any heart condition, but Mark knew about all sorts of shit Pono had done to himself in college, and he never told anyone about it.

  “It’s no one’s fault. He was a good man, and sometimes we can’t control what happens to the ones we love.” Mark gripped her hand tight. She squeezed back as if to say she appreciated the gesture and the words.

  “No, but he didn’t have to eat so damn much,” Marly said, her voice rough. “He gained so much weight once he started working in that hospital, I barely recognized him anymore. He looked like a complete couch potato.”

  Toloa turned on her and said through gritted teeth, “You may leave the table now. You will not disrespect your brother like that. And no poi for you!”

  “Good. I hate that stuff,” Marly said, pushing off the table and getting up while the chair was still in motion.

  It tipped back and hit the floor.

  She left a moment later, and Jay entered the room. “Where’d Mar go?”

  “She’s being a brat,” his father answered. “She gets no respect today, until she apologizes and earns it back.”

  Mark’s heart swelled for this family—for Marly, too. She was a mixed-up teenager, hurt by her brother’s death, and it had to be scary for her to think that Jeanie might move on and never give her another thought.

  He swallowed.

  Yeah, he understood completely. That fear was very real for him as well . . .

  Chapter 6

  Being back in the car was . . . God, she didn’t know, but she was breathing easier, and Mark’s scent enveloped her the moment he was in his seat, taking hold of the wheel.

  Everything about him was powerful and spoke to her.

  It was scary how she already wanted to do anything she could to please him. If he said, “Jeanie, scrub my toilet,” she probably wouldn’t hesitate for even a second.

  “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?” He ran a fingertip down her arm.

  “Thinking about how scared I am already over how much sway you have over me. I never would’ve gotten through that without you, and as scary as that is to admit, I almost can’t remember what it was like before I felt this way.”

  “Boring, most likely.” He chuckled.

  “This isn’t funny,” she said, turning her turbulent eyes on him. “When I care about someone this deeply—fuck!—it doesn’t go well.” She grimaced, and her eyes went lifeless.

  He turned toward her briefly, then backed the car out. His eyes scrunched. “You’re gonna need to explain what you mean because what you just said not only makes no sense, but there’s not a speck of truth to it.”

  She groaned. “You heard back there what I did—how Pono died. I already told you it was my fault, and I meant it. My love killed him. I’m the reason he put on all that weight and died.”

  He growled. “Don’t say that. It’s not true.”

  “It is.” She knocked her head into the headrest. “And I wasn’t even wearing my goddamn wedding band. They must think I’m the biggest cold-hearted bitch ever.”

  “Let’s think for a moment . . . Gain some perspective.” He paused and gave her a look that said this was for her own good. “Close your eyes. Tell me what a normal day was like in your home together. Go back three months ago, and tell me what I’d see if I was you.” His grip tightened on the wheel.

  “All right.” She exhaled and closed her eyes, settling into the seat. “I would get home at six from work, Pono would arrive at unpredictable times, but it seemed he was being run ragged.”

  “Pick a specific day and tell me.”

  She sucked her lips in for a second, then they popped when she let them go. “Okay. So, there was one night, I had dinner waiting, I was tired and hungry, and I kept waiting for him to call to say how much longer until he’d be home. He never called. I didn’t want to eat without him, so I put the food away and lay down on the couch. I fell asleep. Pono got home around eleven that night, and I had thought his shift would be done around seven-thirty.”

  She blew out for a moment, and he glanced at her.

  “He didn’t say anything,” she continued. “He knocked into the door jamb when he entered our apartment. He tossed his keys down and stripped along his
way to the kitchen like he always did. I got up and picked up his clothes and put them in the hamper. While he was rummaging in the fridge for dinner, I felt really guilty. I should’ve had his meal ready to go. I should’ve left it on a plate so all he had to do was pop it in the microwave.”

  Mark turned up the air conditioning.

  “I made my way into the kitchen, offered to get him a drink at least, but he already had a beer in his hand and his food was heating up. I followed him into the living room. He fell down onto the couch, and some of his beer sloshed onto the furniture, so I cleaned it up. He turned on the TV, watched some stupid show I couldn’t stand, but I sat there anyway, in case he wanted me for some reason. No matter how tired he was, he would eat. He always ate. And when he finished what was on his plate, I offered to get him seconds.”

  “And why did you do that?”

  “I don’t know . . . I guess because I felt helpless and wanted to be useful.” She gripped her hands together. His hand landed on top of hers. It was incredible how quickly she relaxed due to his skin on hers.

  “That’s not why. Tell me the real reason,” he said.

  “He was always happy when he ate. And I wanted him to be happy, dammit.” Her jaw clenched.

  “Did he stop after seconds?”

  “No. He always went for thirds, and I got them for him as well. I thought it was my job to keep him happy that way, and the only time he looked like he was overjoyed was when I was feeding him. He loved my cooking, and that meant a lot to me since, as you experienced today at lunch, his mom’s an amazing cook.” Her hands suddenly flopped to her sides and then she gripped the edges of the seat.

  “That wasn’t your fault. Like I told you earlier, you can’t help it. You have a need to serve the one you love.”

  “I could serve you, but what if I fail?” Her eyes opened.

  “Impossible.”

  “You say that now.” Her voice cracked.

  “You won’t. Know why?” He smiled and glanced at her as he turned a corner a little faster than he probably should have. She leaned toward him, and his grin went wider.

  “Because I won’t ignore you the way he did. It won’t grow old or stale. I don’t do vanilla, Jeanie. I do me. I do you. I do us. I will always call when I’m gonna be late. I’ll always let you know what I need and want, so you know exactly how to please me without having to guess. This is what I do, and I do it right. You do, too—you know how to please someone. You were just with the wrong person, and that was never your fault. Submissives marry other submissives all the time.”