La Fleur de Love: The Series: Books 1 - 4

by Leger, Lori

  She gazed into kind blue eyes, feeling a distinct connection to this generous man. Maybe it was because he and Jackson were as alone as she and Toby had been since the deaths of their adoptive parents. For whatever reason, her girls had bonded with these two men.

  She nodded. “All right.” Mackenzie brought the kitchen calendar to her so she could mark the date. Her two girls jumped around excitedly, telling anyone who would listen about their upcoming birthday party.

  Jackson looked up from a conversation with Bill and Sam as Carrie joined them on the patio. “How’s she doing?”

  “I just got all three of them tucked in for an afternoon nap. I thought you two went home an hour ago.”

  He shook his head. “We’ve been discussing maintenance issues for this place. I told Sam that if the rain stops, I’ll come over on Saturday to do her yard work. He’s been showing me some things that I can take care of for her. She’s got some branches on those trees that need some trimming.”

  She glanced in the direction he’d pointed and nodded. “I’m sure she’d appreciate that. You know, I’ve been thinking how rough it’ll be on those girls not to have their dad around for ball games. He’s gone to every tee-ball game since Mac’s been in it. This is Lexie’s first year, and I know Toby looked forward to watching her.”

  Jackson rubbed his hand over his jaw. “You think Giselle would mind if I made some of their games?”

  “I’d like to make some, as well,” Bill added.

  “I don’t see why not,” she said.

  “The girls would love it,” Sam added. “You know, I always thought it was odd that Toby didn’t play baseball, as much as he loved other sports. I guess you knew he was a star running back for L.S.U. How about you, Jackson? You look athletic. You ever play baseball?”

  Jackson shrugged. “I played some.”

  Bill chuckled. “Jackson pl—”

  “So when does ball season start around here?” Jackson shot his uncle a look of warning.

  “It starts the end of March, about a month away. Opening day’s a big deal here,” Sam added. “Think you guys can make it?”

  Jackson nodded. “We’ll be there.” He looked at his uncle. “You ready to head out?”

  “Let’s go.”

  They said their goodbyes and settled into Jackson’s truck for the drive home.

  Bill buckled his seatbelt and turned to his nephew. “I played some? What the hell was that all about?”

  “It was high school and a little bit of college.”

  “A little bit of college?” Bill asked incredulously. “You had scouts for the major leagues watching you.”

  “Keep it to yourself, Uncle Bill. Nobody wants to hear about any of that, or why it didn’t happen.” He shifted uncomfortably under uncle’s gaze.

  “What could it hurt, Jackson? It’s not like you’ve tooted your own damn horn about it all these years. And that bitch, Chloe, isn’t around anymore to kick you down about throwing your shoulder out before you hit the big time.”

  His jaw clenched involuntarily at the mention of her. “Don’t say her name around me. That part of my life is over with, and so is baseball.”

  Bill lowered his sunglasses to look down his nose at his nephew. “You know, this system of yours—of not dealing with things—not wanting to talk about it to anyone. Well, hell, boy. That can’t be healthy.”

  “Healthy or not, it’s how I deal.”

  “I’m just saying, maybe it’d do you some good to vent a little about all the crap you’ve put up with over the years.”

  “Vent? It’s not like you don’t already know what a cold-hearted bitch she was.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you and Giselle could vent to each other. Kind of a mutual commiseration thing. A group therapy for just the two of you.”

  Jackson glanced at his uncle, wondering if he’d lost his mind.

  “Maybe let her read that letter your lawyer brought over. You know, the one you won’t show anybody? There’s bound to be something eye opening in that thing. Something that’ll set you free from all that pent up hatred.”

  He hit the brakes at the four-way stop and gave his head an emphatic shake. “Trust me, Uncle Bill. That’s one thing that will never happen.”

  The rest of the week rolled by in a succession of cold, drizzly, bleak days. Every morning, Giselle woke early to the sound of deep rolling thunder and rain pounding on the roof of her home. Every morning, she thought of Toby then rolled over and reached for the Percocet. She swallowed a pill with the glass of milk Carrie placed on her nightstand then went back to sleep for another two hours.

  Jackson called Carrie every morning that first week, asking how things were going. As of yet, her reports to him all sounded exactly the same. The girls were fine, although they missed their dad terribly, but Giselle was not so good.

  On Friday morning, the rain finally stopped, allowing the sun to break free in a brilliant display. Carrie got the girls off to school then went home to do a few things while Giselle slept. As she pulled up into her empty parking spot beside Sam’s truck, he came out to meet her.

  “Hey Sugar,” she said, thrilled at the sight of her husband.

  Sam pulled his wife into his arms. “I miss you, Babe. Going to bed without you brings back awful memories.”

  “I know, babe. Maybe by Monday she’ll feel well enough so that I can come home at night. Right now there’s no way she can handle the girls. I’d tell you to come meet me, but I’m sleeping on the sofa because the mattress in the master bedroom is so bad.”

  “Giselle’s still camped out in the guest room?”

  Carrie nodded. “I was hoping she’d have tackled that by now.”

  “She may need a little more time, hon. That house is so full of the feel of Toby. That’s got to be difficult for her to live with.”

  “It’s learning to live without it that’s difficult for her.” Carrie took her husband’s hand and walked inside.

  By the last week in March, Giselle was better physically, but, according to Carrie, still wallowing in depression. Carrie and her girls visited often and tried to get her to come out of the house, but she wouldn’t budge. Carrie had confided in Jackson that the melancholy atmosphere of their home began to take a tremendous toll on Mackenzie and Lexie.

  Jackson and Sam took turns doing Giselle’s yard work the first few weekends, but with the approach of ball season, Sam was busy getting the park’s baseball fields ready for play. As a result, Jackson had spent the last two Saturdays working in Giselle’s yard.

  Mac and Lexie, drawn to anyone who paid them attention, usually spent the day helping him out in the yard. Jackson’s heart ached for the little girls he’d grown so fond of. He knew they missed the life they had before their father died, and he tried to compensate wherever he could.

  The day before Kenton’s opening day of the summer league season, Carrie walked into Jackson’s office and plopped down in a chair across from his desk. She kicked off one heel and leaned over to rub her foot, before catching his curious gaze. “Are you and Bill still interested in making Mac and Lexie’s ballgames?”

  He stacked the set of plans he’d been studying on top of another set. “Absolutely. Tomorrow is opening day, isn’t it?” At Carrie’s nod he continued. “You don’t think Giselle will mind, do you?”

  She slipped her shoe back on and stood up. “I can’t imagine why, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to call her.”

  “I’ve got a conference call scheduled in a few, but I’ll do it as soon as I get a chance.”

  The chance didn’t come until nearly noon. He waited nervously for her to answer and took a deep breath.

  “Giselle, its Jackson. How are you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “I know your girls have games tomorrow for opening day. Would it be okay if Bill and I go to watch them?”

  “Oh.” She paused briefly. “I’d forgotten about opening day. I don’t know. I guess so. I don’t think I can handle that right n
ow, Jackson.”

  “Bill and I will take care of them for you, Giselle.”

  “Everyone’s already doing so much for us around here, I feel like such a burden.”

  “You’re the only one that thinks that.”

  “I just … I just wish things could be like they were,” she said, barely above a whisper.

  Jackson was quiet for a moment as he ran a hand through his hair. “Believe me, we all wish the same thing,” he murmured, before clearing his throat. “If it’s dry enough on Sunday, I’ll mow your lawn.”

  “You don’t have to keep doing that; I can hire someone.”

  He stood up and walked nervously to the window of his office to look outside. “Look, I’ve got all this free time on my hands, remember?” He listened as she released a long sigh before speaking again.

  “That’s fine, I don’t care.”

  The connection ended suddenly. Jackson stared at the dead phone in his hand, shocked at the magnitude of zombie-like waves of despair transmitted through her tone. As it happened, his wife’s varied performances over the years were nothing compared to the genuine article.

  At the end of his workday, Jackson drove to his gym. His membership had been a birthday gift from Chloe, whose gifts to him always contained a not so hidden barb. This one had come with the snide comment, “Love handles on men your age are never attractive, Darling.” Even though he hadn’t the slightest hint of love handles, he’d tried to work out twice a week, despite Chloe’s demands and tantrums. Now that he had free time on his hands, he was able to go every day or night of the week that work didn’t demand his attention. He didn’t see any difference in the way he looked yet, but he felt remarkably better at the physical activity.

  With the dawn of Saturday morning came the promise of a beautiful day. Jackson and Bill entered the ballpark at a quarter to eight, amazed at the multitude of people already there.

  “Damn!” Bill said. “Kenton’s serious about their summer league. Look at this crowd.”

  “Sam said that everyone shows up for opening ceremony but it thins out as the games begin. Mac and Lex each have two games to play today, but I’m not sure about the times.” Jackson stared at the groups of kids running around in uniforms. “I can’t pick anyone out. They all look alike to me.”

  Bill laughed. “That’s why I’m looking for Sam. That big boy will stand out in a crowd, no matter what he’s wearing.” He pointed. “There he is at the concession stand.”

  Sam looked up as Jackson called his name. “Hey, I’m glad you two could make it,” he said, exchanging handshakes.

  “Mac and Lex wouldn’t have let us live it down if we hadn’t. Did Giselle come?”

  Sam shook his head while opening a case of chips for the workers. “No, she wasn’t feeling up to it. Carrie said she’d be checking up on her all day in between catching up with some things that she had to do at the house. The girls are here already. They’ll be excited to see you two.”

  Jackson gazed into the throng of people. “Where the hell do we look?”

  Sam pointed to a spot in the stands and they walked in that direction. Within seconds, Jackson heard his name being called as Mackenzie, Lexie, and four other children ran up to him.

  Lex threw her arms around his legs. “My Jackson’s here! You came to watch us play?”

  He leaned over to hug both girls then reached down to lift her in his arms. “Of course. I said we would, didn’t I?”

  “Mama doesn’t feel well, so I’m glad we have you.”

  “I’m glad too, Sweetie.”

  Mac beamed as Bill placed his hand gently on her head and pulled her to him for a hug. “Now, who are all of these kids?” Bill asked.

  Mac introduced them to Cathryn, Allie, Emmelia, and Gage, all grandchildren of Sam and Carrie’s, and all in uniforms. Their mothers, Amanda, Gretchen, and Lauren approached shortly after to hug the two men and say how glad they were to see them there.

  As soon as the ceremony was over, Lexie’s team took to the field. Jackson and Bill spent the next three hours watching the morning games of all the children, whooping and hollering when any one of them made a good play.

  “I’ve never had so much fun in my life,” Jackson exclaimed, after the last morning game. “How many of the group have second games?”

  “They all do. The second round starts at one-thirty. We have two hours to feed this mob,” Lauren said.

  “Head on over to our place,” Sam said. “Carrie cooked lunch for everyone.”

  Within ten minutes the group arrived, bubbling with excitement and starving. Jackson approached Carrie, who was in the kitchen preparing the spread for chili dogs with all the fixings.

  “Hey! So, what’d you and Bill think of opening day?”

  Jackson sent her a huge grin. “I can’t wait for the second round to start. I’m having a blast.”

  “I’m glad you two are enjoying it. I grilled hot dogs for lunch. Grab a plate and serve yourselves, buffet style.” She pointed to a cooler. “Canned drinks are in there.”

  “Thanks, Carrie.” Jackson leaned in close. “How’s Giselle?”

  Carrie shrugged and opened a pack of hot dog buns. “She’s about the same, and I’m starting to worry. She wasn’t the least bit interested in today.”

  “Has she tackled the master bedroom yet?”

  Carrie shook her head. “She won’t even open the door.”

  “Maybe she needs more time.”

  “Maybe she needs to be reminded that she has two daughters who need her,” she said. “I was going to bring the girls back home to rest for a while until it’s time for their next games. Would you and Bill want to bring them after lunch for me?”

  “We’ll do that as soon as we finish eating.”

  Mac and Lexie dragged the two men through the kitchen door of their home.

  Giselle looked up from where she sat with a cup of coffee. Dark circles accented her pale, thin face. She looked childlike without her makeup, but so tired and unbearably sad, it nearly broke Jackson’s heart. The girls demeanor turned noticeably subdued the moment they saw their mother.

  Bill sat beside Giselle at the table and took her hand. “Hey Hon, how are you feeling?”

  “Hi Bill. I’m okay.” She turned to her daughters. “How were the games?”

  “They were good, we both won,” Mac said, quietly.

  “Yeah, we both won,” Lexie repeated. She lifted her shoulders and let them drop, as she released a deep breath.

  In all fairness, Giselle made a valiant effort to smile at her daughters, but Jackson couldn’t help but notice that the smile she gave them never seemed to reach her eyes. No doubt her daughters did too.

  He sat at the table across from her. “Maybe by next week you’ll feel well enough to make one of their games.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “Mac hit two home runs, and I hit the ball off the tee twice, mama,” Lexie told her.

  “That’s great, sweetie.”

  “Jackson said that daddy was watching, so we did it for him. Ouch!” Lexie turned, ready to fuss at her sister for jabbing her in the ribs. She stopped when Giselle suddenly left the table. Within seconds, she’d disappeared into the guest bedroom, closing the door behind her.

  “I told you not to talk about daddy,” Mac hissed at her sister. “It makes her cry.”

  Lexis’s little face crumbled as she turned to Jackson for comfort. He picked her up and seated her on his long legs as she turned her face into his broad chest and sobbed. He held her close, gently running his fingers through her silky curls, inhaling the scent of her children’s shampoo. “Don’t cry Lex. Your mom’s just hurting right now.”

  “I’m s-so-orry Jackson, I th-thought she’d b-be happy that daddy was w-wa-watching us-s,” Lexie sobbed into his shirt. “I won’t s-say d-daa-dd-dy a-g-gain.”

  “Maybe, just for now, Lex,” Jackson told her.

  Bill grunted and gave his nephew a disapproving look.

  “Uncle Bill
,” he warned sternly, “Not now.”

  Bill sighed then turned to the older child. “Mac, do you think you’d like to rest?”

  She nodded, walked to her bedroom, and closed the door.

  “How about you, Lex?” Jackson whispered softly into her ear. “Think you could take a little nap for me?”

  “I want to st-stay with y-you,” she sniffed.

  Jackson exchanged a look with his uncle, both clearly at a loss as to what to do. Finally, he got up with her and asked if she wanted to sit next to him on the sofa.

  “C-Can I get M-Mac?”

  He nodded and put her down so she could get her sister. When the two girls came back into the room, Lexie snuggled up next to Jackson, and Mac took the spot next to Bill. Within a few minutes, both girls had fallen asleep on the large, comfortable sofa. Jackson followed Bill out to the back patio so they could talk without disturbing them.

  “They shouldn’t be afraid to talk about their dad,” Bill seethed. “They should be talking about him so they can remember him without mourning. Giselle has to face this.”

  “We can’t do anything, Uncle Bill. They’re her girls.”

  Bill sighed, and agreed to disagree on the matter for the moment.

  About five that afternoon, Jackson stopped loading his truck to embrace Lexie as she launched herself at him.

  “Jackson, I don’t want you to go!” she wailed.

  He lifted her, hugged her tightly. “Aw Lex, you’ll see me tomorrow, sweet girl. I have to do your mom’s yard work tomorrow, remember?”

  Lexie’s eyes grew wide as she turned to her sister. “Mac, We get to see my Jackson two days in a row!” she said, squealing in delight.

  Mac lifted her face to Bill, her eyes bright with hope. “Are you coming back to watch us play again?”

  Bill touched her nose with the tip on one finger. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Mac.”

  Long after the two of them parted the girls’ company, the thought of Lexie’s comment brought a smile to Jackson’s face.

  “What are you grinning about?” Bill asked.

  He uttered a single syllable as explanation. “Lex.”

  By the time he pulled his gaze from the roadway to face his uncle, Bill was wearing the same ear to ear grin.