He shrugged. “Came by last week to pick up some mail and do some laundry. Haven’t slept here since you left.” He pulled a roll of garbage bags from the cupboard under the sink and threw in the contents of the vegetable rack before holding it out for Beth to empty the fridge into it. “Been thinking maybe we should sell. Find somewhere smaller, somewhere…..”
“No. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last couple of months, it’s that you can’t run away from your feelings. I love this house, and although it’s hard coming back, I hate the thought of someone else living here. There are so many good memories tied up in this place and, given time, we will make some more.” She reached out and touched his hand. “It won't always be this hard.”
“Wish I had your faith, Beth.” He took the garbage bag from her and headed out to the back door. “I guess I ain't as good at dealing with this shit as you.”
When he came back, the kitchen was empty. “Beth?”
“Up here.” He found her in Amy’s room sitting on the bed. Seeing him hover in the doorway she smiled. “Come on in. We need to sort out Amy’s stuff.”
“Can’t we just leave it?”
“No, we can’t.” She held out her hand and reluctantly he entered the room he’d been avoiding since his kid had been taken away from him. “It’s been nearly five months, Joe. We have to start moving on.”
“I know.” He picked up the ratty old pink teddy that lived on the bottom of her bed and pressed it to his lips. “I can still smell her. It’s like she’s still here.”
“I know.” She slipped her hand in his. “I’m not saying we have to throw everything away. But I don’t want this room turning into a shrine. Amy is gone, and we have to accept that. Life will never be the same, and I for one don’t want it to be. But if you and me are to have any future together we have to move on, and this is where we start.”
“How about I let you do this on your own.” Joe still clutched the teddy, unable to fathom how they were supposed to throw any of Amy’s stuff away.
“No, we do this together.”
“I knew you were going to say that.” He gave a shaky smile. “Okay, so how do we do this?”
“Three piles. What we keep, what we can throw away, and what goes to goodwill.”
“And how do we decide?”
“We talk.”
She was smart, his old lady. Every item in that room contained a memory and as the three piles grew they found themselves talking, sometimes crying but also laughing. Joe pulled opened the wardrobe doors. “Who do these dresses belong to?”
“Amy.”
“Are you shitting me?”
“Nope.” Beth grinned
“So how come I never saw her in them? There’s no way I’d let her out of the house in that. Shit, the rags I clean my bike with are bigger than that.”
“Well I’m guessing that’s why you never saw her wearing them.”
“Sneaky little minx. If I…..” He stopped and swallowed, unable to carry on. “Shit. I miss her so much.” Slumping down onto the bed, he put his head in his hands.
Beth sat next to him and linked her arm through his. “Me, too. We can take a break if you want.”
“No, I’m okay.” He took a deep breath. “Let's get this done.”
It took a while, and the pile of things to keep was bigger than it should have been, but they both agreed it had been a positive process. Beth was right. Life would never be the same without Amy, but as long as they had each other they could move on.
~ oOo ~
Moving on. It sounded so simple. They were trying, really trying, and to the casual observer, they were succeeding. They weren’t avoiding each other anymore, and it looked like they were communicating better. However, when one half of a relationship was Joe Taylor, who, at the best of times, was as communicative as a brick, it was never going to be easy. Beth had to hand it to him, though, he was making a real effort and opening up more about his feelings. Unfortunately, most of those feelings seemed to be anger.
As time moved on and the weeks turned into months, they fell into a routine of sorts. Beth went back to her old job and threw herself into her work. So much so that she hardly noticed when he was away on any of the numerous ‘jobs’ he was accepting.
She had been right, of course, things would never be the same without Amy. But life did go on. Whether they wanted it to or not. There were days when she hardly entered their minds, or when they did remember her, it was with a smile. Other days, the grief would hit them like a sledgehammer, knocking them on their asses with its intensity. Holidays had been particularly difficult. Thanksgiving hadn’t been so bad. They had been invited to spend the day with Bugs and Yaz, and although they had both been reluctant, their big family and Joe’s brothers meant that the day had been raucous and filled with laughter.
Christmas, however was a killer. Amy had always loved it, even as a teenager. She had always wanted the biggest tree and adored decorating the house and shopping for food and presents for everyone. Neither Joe or Beth felt inclined to accept any invitations or wanted to decorate the house. They both just accepted that some days they were going to be sad, and this was going to be one of them. It was days like this that the cracks in their relationship really showed. As soon as he got out of bed, Joe disappeared into his den with a bag of weed and a bottle of JD. Beth knew better than to push him when he was like this. It would have been nice to have someone to share her feelings with, maybe just a shoulder to cry on, but she was going to have to deal this on her own. She had already decided that she would take a drive to the cemetery. It had been a while and she wanted to leave Amy a gift. Of course, Joe had thought it was a dumb idea, and wanted nothing to do with it. Secretly, Beth thought it was just another sign that he was trying to bury his emotions, but he insisted he didn’t need to visit Amy’s grave. She wasn’t there. She was in his heart.
Beth wrapped her coat around her as she crouched in front of the grave. “Hey, sweetheart. I bought you a present for Christmas.” She sat the small pink teddy up against the headstone. “I wanted to bring your old one, but Joe keeps it in his den. I guess he’s more sentimental than he’d have us believe.” She pulled up her collar in an attempt to keep the rain from running down the back of her neck and started to brush away the fallen leaves with her hands. “He really misses you, Amy. We both do. It’s like there’s a big hole in our lives, and I don’t know how we’re supposed to fill it.”
She sniffed and looked up as the sound of a Harley broke the silence. For a fleeting moment, she thought it was Joe, but she knew the sound of his bike, and she knew he wouldn’t be able to put aside his own grief to help her deal with hers. The bike stopped outside the cemetery gates and she straightened up and looked over as Samson dismounted and started to walk towards her. “Samson, what are you doing here?” She hadn’t seen him since he had brought her back from LA, although apparently he had been in town a couple of times since then.
“Hey, darling. I just swung by your place and saw your car wasn’t there. Guessed you’d be here.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Where’s Tiny?”
“At home, drowning in JD and weed.”
“Shit. I thought things were getting better.”
“They are.” She walked over to a wooden bench and sat down. “Most of the time.”
“So today’s a rough day, huh?” He sat next her and slipped his arm around her shoulders. “He should be here, though.”
“Maybe.” She sighed. “I guess we just have different ways of dealing with stuff.”
“What he’s doing isn’t dealing. You want me to talk to him?”
“No. He’s trying, Samson. Really he is. Sometimes, though, he needs the space to do things his own way.”
“And what about you Beth? What do you need?”
“I’m okay.”
She shivered and he pulled her closer. “How about we go somewhere a little warmer. There's a diner down the road that will be open.”
“I think
I ought to go home.” She gave a sad smile. “You’re welcome to come with me, although the place is a little short on festive cheer.”
“Nah, I’m gonna head on over to the clubhouse.” He pressed his lips against her forehead. “Don’t think your old man would appreciate me being around today. C’mon, I’ll walk you to your car.”
When, the next morning, Joe emerged, bleary eyed and hungover, he found Beth sitting on the bed reading from a small red journal. “What’s that?” He sat next to her and started to read over her shoulder recognizing at once Amy’s sprawling handwriting.
“I found it in a box at the back of her closet.” She smiled. “There’s all sorts of stuff in there. Tickets from the zoo and the aquarium, letters from you when you were locked up, drawings. She kept everything. Have you any idea just how much she loved you?”
“Not sure I deserved it.” He kissed her neck. “Not sure I deserve your love either.”
“Unless you take shower and clean your teeth, you don’t.”
With a rueful grin, he complied. He half expected her to join him and had to swallow his disappointment when not only did she not, but when he returned to the bedroom she was nowhere to be seen. However, the smell of bacon cheered him up. He was pretty hungry after all.
Over the next few days they stayed home, avoiding everyone and taking the opportunity to spend some time with each other. They didn’t talk much, and although they did spend a lot of time making love, it lacked the intensity it once had. It wasn’t bad, it was just…. different. Much of their time, though, was spent just sitting in front of the fire, watching crap on the TV and eating junk food, learning how to be comfortable with each other again. By the time New Year’s Eve came around, both felt ready to face his brothers and their old ladies at the New Year's Eve party.
Beth held tightly onto Joe’s hand as they made their way through the clubhouse. She would rather not have gone, but she knew as Joe’s old lady she was expected to be there, for a little while at least.
FORTY-THREE
Lost. It was the only word he could think of to describe himself. He hardly recognized the man who stared back at him in the mirror each morning. Beth had tried to push him into expressing his feelings, but when he looked deep inside himself, the only emotion resting there was rage. It seethed and bubbled inside him, like molten lava threatening to burst forth like Vesuvius, destroying everything in its path. The old Joe, the man he was before, had been slow to anger. Despite what he did for the club, he rarely lost his temper. He had believed that the angry teenager he had once been had disappeared forever. But now, he was back with a vengeance. Over the past few months he had accepted any job at any chapter. He had done everything from protection runs, to torture, to killing. Nothing he did would quell the fire.
The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt his old lady. He loved her, or at least he had. No, he still did, he must. He just couldn’t find that feeling anymore. He had been so intent on burying his rage that he had buried everything as well.
Sometimes, there was something else. The best way to describe it would be a pain, although that didn’t really come close to what he felt. It enveloped him, suffocating him and twisting him up inside. On days like this, he would lock himself away and drink himself into oblivion. When he was unconscious he couldn’t see his kid’s face anymore.
As he walked towards the clubhouse, he felt Beth’s hand slip into his. She really didn’t want to be there, and to be honest, neither did he. But it was New Year's Eve and everyone was expected to attend. He could have made an excuse for them, certainly for Beth, but it hadn’t occurred to him until they were crossing the lot just how much she was going to hate this. Again, he was letting her down.
Even after Samson had brought her back, and despite the promises he had made her, and himself, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was going through the motions; they talked more, at least about superficial stuff. They fucked, too, and he no longer got up and slouched off to his den afterwards. But he couldn’t quite look her in the eye, and on those days when he knew she was struggling, he would pretend not to notice, preferring to disappear to the clubhouse or to go for a long ride.
Maybe he should have felt guilty, but he didn’t. He didn’t feel anything at all.
The clubhouse was packed. Patches, old ladies, whores and hangarounds filled the place and loud music pumped from the PA, making any sort of conversation difficult. Hell, that was fine by Joe. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually wanted to talk to anyone. Not that any one would want to talk to him. Most of his brothers gave him a pretty wide berth these days.
Pushing his way through the bar, he ordered a JD for himself and a beer for Beth. If he had to be here, he might as well get smashed on free booze.
“Joe.” Beth touched his arm and he frowned. They hadn’t been there long but already he was on his fifth double. “I really don’t want to be here. I think I’m going to head off home.”
“I want you to stay.” He handed the prospect his empty glass for a refill.
“But.”
“No buts, Beth. You will leave when I say you can leave.”
“Shit, Joe. Really?” She started to turn and he grabbed her by the arm and pushed her roughly against the bar.
“You will do as I fucking tell you.” Their eyes met and he saw a flash of something. Fear. She was scared of him. His cock twitched. Hello, that was new. “Stay the fuck there.”
“Brother.” Samson leaned on the bar, positioning himself between Joe and his old lady. “Enjoying the party?”
“Having a ball. Now if you’ll excuse me, I got things to say to my old lady.”
“I think you’re done talking to her, brother.” Samson straightened up.
“You should stay outta my shit, brother.” Joe threw the last of his JD down his throat. “Bitch needs putting in her place.”
“Now, Tiny. I’m not the type of dude to get between a brother and his old lady, and I’m sure I was mistaken when it looked like you were manhandling her.”
Beth gently touched his back. “It’s okay, Samson.”
“No it’s not, Beth.” He turned. “Why don’t you go and talk to Yaz. Me and your old man need to have a little chat.”
“No. It’s not that I don’t appreciate you looking out for me. But really, it’s fine.”
“Yeah, why don’t you fuck off, and leave me and my old lady alone.” If Joe had been sober he would never have talked to Samson like that. There were few people who could take him down, but his former president was one of them. And you never disrespected a president of any chapter. “Of course if you’d like a piece, I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.”
“I’m gonna pretend I never heard that brother, but if you ever disrespect me or your old lady like that again, we are gonna have a serious problem.”
Joe shrugged. “There’s always the ring.”
“Oh you’d fucking love that. I’m your brother and I’m your friend, But this”—he pointed to his president patch—“You will respect.”
“You lost that respect when you started pushing up on my old lady.”
“Joe!” Beth stepped forward. “Samson would never do that. How could you say that?”
“Cuz I got eyes, bitch.” He pushed Samson out of the way and loomed over her. “You telling me that asshole wasn’t fucking you in LA?”
“Of course not.” They were yelling now. All around them, conversations were stopping and people were looking over at them.
“Bullshit. You’ve always been all over him, even before….before.” He swallowed. “What I don’t understand is why you came back.”
“Because I love you. And so does Samson. Shit, Joe, I can't believe you would think that either of us would do something like that. I’m not my fucking sister.” She spun on her heel and pushed her way through the crowd towards the door.
Joe glared at the assembled crowd. “What the fuck are you looking at?”
Barney laughed and slung
his arm around Samson's shoulder. “A fucking idiot.”
“You okay?” Yaz leaned against the clubhouse wall and passed her joint to Beth.
“I can’t believe he would say something like that. He knows how I feel about him.” Beth took a long drag on the joint and passed it back.
Yaz stared out across the lot. “I guess after everything that happened, he’s scared you’re drifting apart. And you and Samson are close.”
“Jesus. Not you, too. I would never cheat on Joe, ever. I know things aren’t great between us.” She sighed. “Sometimes it feels like I don’t know him anymore, but I still love him, no matter how bad things got, I could never do anything to hurt him.”
“And Samson? He’s never pushed up on you?”
“Of course not. He loves Joe. If it wasn’t for him, I’d probably still be in LA.”
“If you love him so much, why did you leave? Shit, if I pulled a stunt like that Bugs would drag me back by my hair.”
“I told you before.”
“No, you gave some bullshit story about you both needing some space. He hit you, didn’t he? That’s the only reason you would leave.”
Beth closed her eyes, but said nothing. Yaz frowned. “You gonna run again?”
“He scares me sometimes. When I look into his eyes, it’s like he’s not there. I never wanted to run in the first place.”
“That sounds like a yes.” Yaz pushed herself away from the wall. “You’re an old lady. Your place is next to Tiny, giving him the support that he needs. That ink you wear, it doesn’t come off. You belong to him until he says otherwise.” She shivered. “It’s cold, I’m going back in. I suggest you do the same.”
Beth watched as she walked back in, then turned and walked in the opposite direction out onto the cold Seattle streets.
~ oOo ~
Joe,
I didn’t want to have to do this, and maybe I was naïve, but I thought that as long as we loved each other, we could work through this. I know now that I was wrong. I’m not blaming you, you can't help how you feel. But this isn’t my fault either. Whatever it was that we had, has gone.
A Family Man Page 35