by Leger, Lori
“It’s okay, Lex. I love you.”
“J-J-ackson …”
For the second time that day, his heart broke for her.
“Your room, Lex. Now.” Giselle issued the command through clenched teeth.
Her little mouth quivering, and without another word or glance in her mother’s direction, Lexie ran to her bedroom in tears.
Sick at heart, Jackson stared down at Giselle. “Please don’t take this out on them. Can’t you see they’re hurting as much as you are?”
“I doubt that. Because of you they don’t seem to even remember their father. You’ve made sure of that, haven’t you?”
Insulted by her accusation, his voice rose in anger. “Oh, they remember him, Giselle. Didn’t you hear Mac? They remember exactly what a wonderful father Toby was.”
She shook her head like a mad woman. “You’re trying to replace him. They don’t even talk about him anymore!”
He walked to her and grabbed her shoulders, longing to shake some sense into her. “They can’t talk about him here. Those girls are terrified to speak his name around you, because when they do you run to your room and hide.”
“It’s because of you!” She pulled out of his grip and tried to close the door.
Jackson pushed the door wide and glared at her. “For God’s sake, Giselle, are you so wrapped up in your own misery that you can’t see their pain? Or is it the fact that they turned to me for comfort that upsets you so much?”
“Don’t try to turn this around on me. This is your fault! Now, I mean it, Jackson. Don’t you come around my girls again.” She slammed the door in his face, and as an added insult, locked it.
Jackson stood there, shocked, silent, completely stunned. His hands clenched, his entire body tensed, with his mouth open. How the hell had this happened? He placed both palms flat on the door, wanting to knock, desperate to make her see reason. Bill appeared beside him, his voice deep, calm, speaking words he barely comprehended through his fog of despair.
“Don’t, son. You’ll only make it worse. You can’t reason with her now.”
Jackson turned his tormented eyes to his uncle. “Did you hear what she said? What Mac said?”
Bill nodded.
“Lexie tried to come to me, but Giselle wouldn’t let her. She was crying, they both were, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. I feel so—so frustrated and—helpless.”
Bill nodded. “I know you do, and so do I, but we can’t fix this tonight. Let’s go home and sleep on it. I’ll drive.”
He nodded, climbed zombie-like into the passenger seat of his own truck. Jackson stared blankly out the window all the way home, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, saying nothing.
They arrived at his place and Bill left immediately in his own truck. Jackson dropped on his sofa and pulled out his phone. He waited for Carrie to answer.
“What the hell did you do, Carrie?”
“You saw Giselle?”
“I saw her.”
“She was pissed?”
“Oh yeah.”
“I’m sorry Jack. Those girls needed a break from her. Giselle was talking like she wanted to die, serious enough so that I didn’t want to leave her alone. I had to do something. I ended up having to piss her off to get her to eat, and I used you to do it.”
Jackson plastered his hand over his queasy stomach, fearing the worst. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her when she was gone, you’d probably want to adopt the girls because you were so crazy about them.”
“Oh God, you didn’t really say that, did you?”
“I’m not proud of it, but I couldn’t help myself. It worked too, because she had two whole slices of pizza and sat outside to eat it.”
“But now she hates me, Carrie. Has forbidden me to see the girls.”
“You saw her, didn’t you? The woman was starving herself to death.”
Jackson groaned and grabbed the top of his head with one hand. “She was already pissed at me.”
“Maybe you should tell me why.”
“She hurt the girls’ feelings today. Broke their hearts, really. I lost patience, kind of yelled at her.”
Carrie exhaled loudly. “I wondered why the thought of you taking the girls to the movie upset her so much.”
“There must be something we can do,” he groaned.
“She hung up on me earlier and won’t answer her phone or the door. I’m sure she’ll cool off by tomorrow.”
He gave a hysterical laugh. “Well hell, Carrie. I wish I was as sure of that as you are.”
“Trust me, Jack. This will all blow over.”
He snorted. “Yeah, right. Because we have a history of blow overs, right?”
“Ja—”
“Hanging up now. I’ve got a date.”
“What?”
“With a bottle of Crown. Don’t worry, I won’t be driving. I’ll just be here, alone in my house, drinking until I pass the hell out.”
Jackson hit the end call button and dropped the phone on the chair. He went to his bar and grabbed his Crown, thought about mixing it with coke, but instead filled the highball glass with the amber liquid and downed it. He refilled the glass, brought the bottle with him. Dropped on the couch Lex had, just four short hours ago described as ‘comfable’.
He felt a lump in his side, reached back for it. Pulled out the stuffed pony that she’d left for him in his truck on opening day at the ball park. He crushed the toy to his chest, remembering how he’d arrived at the Kenton ballpark a few days later to find her seated in the bleachers beside Sam. He’d greeted Sam quietly so Lex hadn’t seen him yet. Clearing his throat, he’d spoken. “Has anyone here seen a pretty little girl named Lexie Granger?” Lex spun around, her expression that of an innocent child’s joy—pure unadulterated, uncontaminated.
Lexie had scurried to the top row in the low bleachers and thrown herself into his arms.
He’d hugged her tightly. “How are you, Lex?”
“Fine, now that you’re here, Jackson.”
“You know, somebody left a stuffed pony in my truck last Saturday. Was it you, by any chance?”
“I left it so you would have somethin’ to ‘member me by when I’m not with you. Did it work?”
“Uh huh. It must be a magic pony, because every time I pick it up, I think of you.”
Lexie’s adorable pixie face had lit up as she nodded. She hadn’t left his side throughout the entire game.
And now. Now Giselle wouldn’t let him or Bill see the two little girls they’d fallen so hard for. Engulfed with frustrated helplessness, more severe than anything he’d ever felt with Chloe, he replayed the previous, terrible scene. Giselle’s cutting words to him. Mac’s awful words to her mother. He didn’t know who he hurt more for—the child or the mother. Lexie’s tiny, tear covered face swam before him, her chin quivering before she ran to her room. The sound of her cries joining with Mac’s would haunt him forever. He covered his ears and groaned, blocking out the memory of their heartbroken sobs.
Jackson put his head in his hands and sat, feeling as miserable and alone as he hadn’t since the night he lost both his parents.
He threw back the whiskey and stared at the empty glass, turning it in his hands. And filled it to the brim.
Bill stormed into his house and threw his keys onto the counter top, still sick with what he’d witnessed less than an hour ago. He’d been shocked, had never expected that. And Jackson—good God. His nephew, even living all those years with that lunatic wife of his, hadn’t been the least bit prepared for that.
But then, Jack had never really loved Chloe. Hell, Bill had known that as far back as the wedding. No way had his nephew totally invested his heart into that woman. Oh, the potential had been there, at first. But Chloe had crushed that with a lie and her demand for him to make a choice. His nephew, ever the gentleman, ever gallant, had chosen wrong. Despite that, his commitment to his wife had remained steadfast, loyal to the end.
Bu
t Mac and Lexie—those two little girls had crawled into both his and Jackson’s hearts, found their spots and taken up permanent residency. Jackson had only been trying to help. Trying to fill a void. Not the void left by their father’s death—but their mother’s. Because sure as shit, taking a blow like that to your soul, losing someone that close to you, your other half—well, that was like dying. Worse than dying, for a while.
His nephew didn’t know that.
But Bill did.
He picked up his phone, punched in a number, and waited. He heard the voice on the other line and took a deep breath.
“It’s time.”
Her doorbell rang at 8:00 a.m. the next morning. Giselle peeked through the window of her kitchen door, uttered a low growl at the sight of Carrie’s SUV parked in her drive. She opened the door, and stood staring at Bill Broussard, her “I don’t want any lectures” speech frozen on her lips.
Bill stood tall, straight, hat in hand. “Hello Giselle.”
She shot him a suspicious glare. “Bill.”
He slapped his Stetson nervously against his thigh. “Honey, I’ve got something to tell you that may help you to gain a little perspective—.”
She raised her hand. “Don’t say you know how I feel, because you couldn’t possibly.”
Bill gave her a sad smile. “You don’t know how badly I wish that were true. What I’m about to tell you, I’ve not told to another living soul in close to four decades. How about you let Carrie take the girls to her house for a while?”
The sadness in his tone, more than anything, had her curious about what he wanted to say. Sensing their presence behind her, she turned to her daughters, who stood waiting like somber little porcelain dolls, and gave them a nod.
Mackenzie approached Bill for a hug, sending her a glare, a dare to stop her—a true act of rebellion for the good natured child.
Lexie stopped before Bill and stole a glance in her direction. When he leaned closer for a hug, she whispered something in his ear.
He gave her a big smile and brushed his hand lightly over her cheek. “He already knows, but I’ll tell him anyway.”
Her lip trembled as she nodded, setting her golden curls into motion.
She’d earned their animosity, the wary looks they gave at her approach. She knew that. She’d no doubt spend the rest of her life trying to erase those five minutes of a memory from hell from her daughters’ minds. Probably unsuccessfully.
Carrie stepped forward to give Giselle a hug. “I don’t know what he’s got to say, but hear him out, honey. I know he’s got your best interest at heart, or he wouldn’t be here.” She turned toward her truck, pausing long enough to squeeze Bill’s arm and whisper a hasty “Good luck.”
Alone in the kitchen with Bill, Giselle offered him a seat and handed him a mug of steaming coffee. She settled herself across from him at the kitchen table and waited. He began to speak in a deep, mesmerizing tone that she found mysteriously comforting.
“When I was eighteen, I decided to work my way across the United States—do some travelling. Up until then, I hadn’t been out of the state of Texas. I’d already registered for the draft, and I figured if they were going to ship my butt to Viet Nam, I was gonna see my own country first. As it turned out, the draft board never called my number, and though I would have gone if they had, somewhere along the way I discovered I wasn’t the volunteer type.
As a result I’d lived in and worked in thirty of these states by the time I turned twenty years old. I ended up in Washington state, working as a lumberjack. I fell head over heels in love with a pretty girl named Lorraine Stubbins. She felt the same way, and two short months later, we married.”
Bill put his cup down and smiled. “It was heaven. We lived in a two-room shack, and loved every minute of it. Lorraine came from a wealthy family, but she never complained a day about our little shack. Neither did her folks, because they started out the same way, and knew we would do better for ourselves, eventually.”
“It only took a couple of weeks to get her pregnant, and man, was I ecstatic. I couldn’t wait to have a little girl who looked just like her mama.” He gave his head a slow shake before he continued. “I got a steady job with better hours and we started putting a little money aside for when the baby came. Lorraine was healthy, and I treated her like a queen. We couldn’t wait for the baby to come so we could give him or her as much love as we had for each other.” Bill paused, smiling at the memory, and looked for a moment as though he was completely lost in the past. He lowered his head and continued, his voice tight, controlled.
“In her sixth month, I dropped her off on my way to work so she could visit her folks all day.” Bill scooted his chair out suddenly, leaned forward, his head down as he rested his forearms on his thighs. “When she started hemorrhaging, they rushed her to the hospital in Seattle.”
He faced her then.
“Both she and our baby died and I never got to say goodbye.” He put his head down for a moment to wipe his eyes. “I lost them two days before Christmas.”
Giselle choked on a sob, raised her hand to cover her mouth.
Bill continued in a monotone voice, lost in the past. “Those were my days of hell on earth. I wanted to die. I couldn’t see a reason in the world to live. My in-laws were as distraught over my condition as they were about losing their daughter and grandchild. Over the next two and a half months they watched me deteriorate. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t work, and they knew something had to be done. My father in law called my brother, Jamison, and he drove up to Washington state to pick me up.”
“When we got back home, I met my sister in law, Elise. It seems that while I was gone, Jamison had also fallen in love and married. They had a baby boy, just two weeks old, named Jackson Jamison Broussard, and they were every bit as happy as Lorraine and I would have been, had she and our child lived.”
“As soon as I got to their little home in Pasadena, Texas, Elise sat me down and place that child into my arms. I guess it looked like I didn’t know what to do with the baby, because it damn near scared Jamison to death. He tried to take him from me, but Elise stopped him. I’ll never forget her words. She took my face in her hands and looked me in the eyes when she spoke. “There is no kind of pain in this world that an innocent child can’t heal, Billy” she said. “Now you hold your nephew. You’re the only family he’s got besides his mama and daddy. He’s going to need you.” She was alone in this world also, and knew how important it was to have family.”
Bill stood up and walked to the window overlooking the back yard. “That sister-in-law of mine was some kind of smart, because that child did heal me. I fed him, I changed his diaper, and I even gave him his bath some days. It didn’t take me long to realize the needs of that baby had to come before my grief. My nephew and I had a strong bond. Five years later, when Jamison and Elise died in a car accident, there was no question that I would raise him.” He exhaled and wiped his eyes with his handkerchief.
Giselle couldn’t choke back her sobs. “I’m so sorry, Bill.”
“My boy would be two months younger than Jackson. We were going to name him William Clayton Broussard, Jr., because Lorraine insisted that any boy with that name would be destined to grow up as fine as his daddy.”
His voice broke slightly and he wiped his eyes again. “It’s always a part of me, Giselle, but I had to move on. I had to leave it behind me so I could live the life I knew she wanted for me. I guess that’s why I never bothered telling Jackson.”
She wiped her eyes and sniffed. “Jackson doesn’t know?”
“As he got older, I didn’t see the need. And after his folks died—well, it was him and me, and that’s all that mattered. He was my boy after that. I’ve never let him forget either of his parents. They were wonderful people. Jackson doesn’t remember much, but he remembers some.” He placed a hand over his heart. “He knows enough to keep a part of them here, where they belong.”
“Did he grieve for them?”
&nbs
p; “Oh sure. We both did, but there’s nothing as bad as a child losing his, or her, parent. You see, that’s why Jackson relates to your girls so easily. He understands that they need to be able to talk about their dad, so that when they think of him, they can remember the joy he brought to their lives. Now, I never met the man, but from what Jackson says, he was a wonderful father and husband. You owe his daughters the chance to remember him with love.
So, you see, I do know your grief. I know you’ve lost the love of your life, but you’re not done living. You’ll find love again.”
Giselle shook her head. “You didn’t.”
“I never found anyone willing to put up with me and Jackson in those early years, and he had to come first. Once I went in with a pal of mine and started a new oil company, I got too busy to settle down. That’s not to say that I haven’t had my share of female companionship, but no one serious enough to settle down with.”
He flipped his hat to examine it. “I been thinkin’ lately, maybe it’s time I find someone. One of these days, you will too. Hopefully, it will happen sooner for you. Until then, you take care of those girls. In time you’ll think about Toby and it’ll hurt less. Eventually, you’ll only remember the good times and none of the pain. In my opinion, the Lord does that so we don’t die of sadness.” He paused to sip his coffee.
Giselle reached out to touch his hand resting on the table. “I’m sorry, Bill.”
“It’s alright, hon. I just want you to understand that God puts people in our paths for a reason. I know the reason he put Jackson and I in yours was so we could help your girls through this. When they’re with us, they talk about all the fun they had with their daddy. We allow them to remember him with love, with joy in their hearts. And isn’t that what you want for them?”
She choked up at his words, able only to nod at him.
“Then, for God’s sake, don’t make them feel like they can’t speak of him in their own home where you were all so happy. Put their grief before your own, and yours will disappear.”