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Disgrace

Page 21

by Brittainy C. Cherry


  “Okay, well, it’s clear that you won’t talk to me or your mom, but you need to talk to someone. Maybe Judy? She’s always been levelheaded. You need an outlet that isn’t Jackson Emery.”

  “You don’t get to have any input on my life anymore. You are no longer involved in what I do during my free time. The same way I’m no longer involved in yours.”

  I walked off to Judy’s house, trying my best to shake off Finn and his words.

  He was like a nasty tick that wouldn’t leave me alone. Worst of all, he seemed delusional. Almost as if he expected me to simply let his infidelity slide because my love should be strong enough to forgive any wrongdoing he bestowed on me.

  As I returned to Judy’s place, I paused on her front porch as I glanced through the window. My sister stood behind a podium with a wooden spoon in her hand as if it were a microphone, and she projected her voice as if speaking to a packed auditorium. The more I listened, the more I understood what she was doing: she was giving a sermon.

  My heart jumped a little because she was doing amazing, too. I’d never seen that side of Judy. I didn’t even know she was interested in preaching.

  When she turned to look out the window and saw me, she quickly dropped the spoon. Rushing in my direction, she flung the door open. “What are you doing, Grace?” she asked, red in the face.

  “Judy”—I stared at her with my eyes wide—“you’re preaching.”

  “I’m not,” she snapped, smoothing out her dress. “I’m not a preacher. I was bored and just messing around.”

  I shook my head. “Well, you looked and sounded like a preacher for a second there.”

  Her eyes glassed over, and a flash of hope filled her gaze. “Really?”

  “Really, really.”

  She puffed out a breath of air. “It’s just silly,” she told me. “I just play around a bit, that’s all.”

  I walked into the foyer and gave her a small grin. “But if you did want to do it as more than playing around, I could talk to Dad…”

  “Please don’t,” she said quickly. “It’s not worth it. I’m happy teaching Bible study and running events around town.”

  “You deserve more than that, though,” I told her. “Before Dad found out I was going to be a teacher, he talked to me about taking over the church after him. Lord knows that’s something I would never want, but you’d be great at it! I mean, if you just—”

  “Grace, come on, just drop it, okay?” she begged, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. I saw how she flinched, so I did as she asked and dropped it. “Are you excited for the Peach Festival coming up?” she asked me.

  Each year, the town held a big festival to celebrate the sweetest peaches in all of Georgia. It was a huge event with carnival rides, barbecue, and fireworks that had been going on for years, but it was the first year Judy was fully in charge of every aspect of it.

  “I am! Anything you need, let me know.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Do you mean that? Anything?”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “What are you getting at?”

  “Well, the day of the event Mama needs some help with some baking…”

  I groaned. It was no secret that Mama and I weren’t on the best terms. Then again, I knew how much the festival going well meant to Judy, so I’d do my best to put up with Mama’s annoyance for her.

  “I can do that for you.”

  She squeaked. “Thank you, thank you. You have no clue how much stress that takes off me.”

  “Always and always,” I told her. “I was actually just coming to change real quick before going out.”

  “Oh? Where are you going?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  My cheeks heated up in response to the way she asked her question. As if she already knew where I was heading.

  “There’s been a lot of talk about you and Jackson Emery,” she told me. “Mama is pretty livid about it.”

  “When isn’t Mama livid about something I’m doing lately?” I joked, feeling my nerves build in my stomach. I’d have been lying if I’d said it didn’t bother me that my relationship with my mother seemed so damaged lately. All my life, I’d done my best to make her proud, and now it seemed as if all I did was disappoint her.

  Judy gave me a small frown. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. I know what happened with Finn and Autumn is a lot, and I cannot even imagine what’s going on in your head, you know? I just don’t want you to get hurt even more by the likes of someone like Jackson Emery. He’s a terrible person.”

  “He’s better than Finn,” I told her, my voice shaky.

  “Just because he’s better doesn’t mean he’s good.”

  “Judy—”

  “I don’t want to parent you, Grace. Lord knows the last thing you need is another Mama coming down on you, but I just want you to be careful. I know your heart is broken, and I don’t want anyone else adding bruises to it.”

  “You worry about me too much, little sister,” I joked.

  “It’s not too much worry. It’s the perfect amount. I just love you, is all.”

  “I love you too,” I told her. “Always and always.”

  If Mama had approached me the same way Judy did with her worries for me, it would’ve been different. Where Mama was harsh, Judy was gentle. They both wanted the best for me, it seemed, but Mama had a hard time expressing it in a kind way. Perhaps she and Jackson had more in common than they thought. They struggled with expressing themselves.

  I understood why everyone worried about Jackson being in my life lately. They were still looking at the out-of-focus version of him the people of small-town Chester had crafted.

  Me, on the other hand—I was fully zoomed in.

  When I arrived at Jackson’s place as we had planned, I was a bit thrown off. I sent him a text message and waited for a while, before giving up and heading home. It was the first time in all our time together that he hadn’t answered my messages or returned my calls. Plus, whenever I planned to head over, he was always waiting.

  I did my best not to overthink it. Jackson had his own life, and I had mine. It was just nice when they crashed together.

  * * *

  A few days passed, and I still hadn’t heard from Jackson at all. I knew we didn’t have the kind of relationship where I had any right to worry, but I did. It was hard not to, knowing that there were so many storm clouds in that head of his.

  I left novels in his corner at the bookshop, but each day when I returned, the Post-it notes were untouched, which only made my nerves build more.

  After not hearing from him for five days, I tossed on some clothes and headed over to Jackson’s place to check in on him. When he didn’t answer the door, I walked toward the auto shop, but he was nowhere to be found. Then, I walked around the building and saw him with that sledgehammer in his grip, hammering away at a new broken-down car. His white shirt was tucked into the side of his jeans as he swung the hammer into the glass windows.

  His arms were muscular and tan as if he’d spent the past few days standing directly in the sun. I cleared my throat loudly, and watched his body react to the sound. He knew I was there, but he didn’t look my way.

  After opening and closing my mouth a few times, I finally built up the nerve to ask him a question. “Is everything okay? I haven’t seen you around the bookshop lately, and when I called you, I didn’t get a reply.”

  He swung the hammer up and then dented the hood of the car. “Been busy.”

  He still hadn’t turned to look at me.

  “Oh, well…okay…I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  He didn’t reply.

  I wished I could crawl into Jackson’s head and see what he was thinking about. I knew his issues went much deeper than he let on. I should’ve let him be and allowed him to have his alone time, but something in my heart told me not to leave. Something in my heart was asking me to stay.

  “Jackson, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Jackso
n, come on. You can talk to—”

  “Can we not fucking do this?!” he barked. The sledgehammer dropped to his side, and he finally looked up at me. “Can you just leave?” he snapped, sending chills down my back. He was acting like the monster I’d first met when I came into town, and I didn’t have a clue why.

  A tear fell from my eye. His coldness stung me a lot harder than I’d thought it would. The last time I’d seen him, it had felt like we were finally getting somewhere, like he was finally knocking down the wall he’d built up over the years.

  Plus, lately, he seemed like the only thing that brought me comfort, and I was convinced everyone in town was wrong about him. Now, though, he was acting exactly how the townspeople viewed him—like a nasty beast.

  I sniffled a bit before wiping the tear away and then nodding. “I’m sorry.”

  I turned to walk away and heard him mutter, “Shit,” before he called my name. When I turned around, he was facing me, sweat dripping down every inch of his body as if the sun was only beaming its rays on him. Every inch of him was soaked, every inch of him wet. I felt my cheeks heat as my stomach began to flip back and forth.

  “I’m in a shitty mood,” he said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. I pretended the nerves forming in my gut weren’t real as I nodded his way. He crossed his arms, and kept talking. “And my mind is really messed up right now.”

  He dug his palms into his eyes before he moved those same hands to his mouth and tapped repeatedly while his spoke. “Like really fucked up, but instead of trying to decipher my thoughts, or go find some shit to make me forget, I’ve decided to be in a really shitty mood and fuck up this car in my backyard. I understand where you’re coming from, and I appreciate the hand you’re reaching out to me, but if I talk to you right now, I’ll probably be an asshole, and I don’t want to be an asshole to you because you’re good. You’re a good thing, but I will break if you keep pushing me, and I can be a real asshole, Grace. Then you’ll hate me, and I’ll feel bad about it, so…I just need my alone time to feel like shit for a while.”

  I nodded once more. Beating up on that car was his outlet to his anger, to his hurt. It was the safety belt keeping him from falling down the rabbit hole, and I’d interrupted that.

  Walking back home, I felt foolish for crossing the line with Jackson.

  How naïve was I to think he’d let me in?

  28

  Grace

  It had been a few days since Jackson asked me to leave him alone, and I hadn’t heard a word from him until he walked over to my corner of the bookshop on a Wednesday evening.

  “Hi,” he whispered, standing tall with his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his black jeans.

  “Hi,” I replied just as quietly.

  “I owe you an apology—” he started, but I cut him off.

  “No, I owe you an apology. You made it clear that you needed time, but I didn’t listen, and I’m sorry for that. You asked for your space, and I didn’t give it to you.”

  A person shushed me, but then when they saw Jackson give them an intense look, they said, “Never mind,” as they stood and walked away.

  I’d never seen a stare so powerful.

  He brushed his hand against the back of his neck and sighed. “I don’t know how to handle people wanting to know if I’m okay. I reacted poorly, and I just wanted to apologize for the way I treated you. You deserved better.”

  “It’s truly okay, I promise. Are you okay, though?”

  “No,” he replied. “But that’s normal.”

  I wished he understood that there was nothing normal about not being okay.

  “You can talk to me, you know. I know it’s against the rules and all, but you can, Jackson. I’m a safe place.”

  I watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed hard, and his body began to tremble. He parted his lips to speak, but his eyes glazed over before any words could escape his mouth. He fought hard to keep the tears at bay, but by the way his body shook, I knew he was close to losing the battle.

  I stood from my seat and moved closer to him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  He cleared his throat, and his bottom lip twitched. “Tucker’s gone.”

  “What?” I gasped, placing my hand on his arm. “What do you mean gone? What happened?”

  “He, um, he passed away five days ago. I woke up, and he couldn’t even walk. I took him to the vet and was told he was in organ failure. They said he probably wouldn’t have made it through the week, so I had to make the decision to put him down.”

  “Oh my gosh…Jackson…” I moved to hug him, and I watched his body tense up. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Jackson, this isn’t the part where you argue with me.”

  “Then what part is this?” he asked.

  “This is the part where you let me hold you.”

  He separated his lips to speak but surrendered as his shoulders slumped forward. He nodded his head a little, and within seconds, I’d wrapped my arms tightly around him. I held on as I felt his tense body slowly relax against mine.

  When he asked me to let go, I held on tighter because I knew he needed me close in that moment. After a while, he stepped back and pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, shaking his head.

  “Will you do something with me?”

  “Anything,” I promised. “Whatever you need, I’m there.”

  * * *

  We walked through the wooded area of Jackson’s property. He held a box in his hands, and as we walked farther through the trees, we reached a clearing. There was open land, and the setting sun touched every corner of the space. In the middle of the field sat an easel with a canvas resting on it. There were paint supplies surrounding the stand, and a small cross made with paintbrushes.

  “That’s where we buried my mother’s ashes,” he told me. “This is where we were supposed to build her art studio. I just thought it would be nice to have Tucker buried beside her.”

  “I think that’s a beautiful idea, Jackson.”

  He set the box on the ground then pulled out Tucker’s stuffed elephant toy and his water and food dishes. Then he pulled out the small urn of ashes and set it down. He cleared his throat, and as he stood, he grimaced. I took his hand into mine and squeezed it lightly.

  “He saved my life,” he told me with a somber look. “A few years ago when I overdosed, Tucker found me and led Alex from the auto shop to me.” He swallowed hard, and his voice cracked. “He’s the reason I’m alive today.”

  My heart kept breaking for Jackson’s pain. I held his hand a little tighter but didn’t offer any words. There were no words for a story like that. Just thankfulness that Jackson was still alive and well.

  “I don’t know how to say goodbye,” he softly spoke, staring at the empty bowls.

  “Then don’t. Just say good night until tomorrow.”

  Jackson closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he moved over to Tucker’s final resting place and kneeled. I stepped back a bit, wanting to give him as much space and time as he needed. I didn’t move too far back, though, because I needed him to feel my presence. I needed him to know he wasn’t alone even though he had his space.

  “Hey, buddy,” he said, his voice smooth like whiskey. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to let you go.” He sniffled, wiping his nose with his hand. “You were a good boy, the definition of unconditional love. When everyone left me, you stayed near. You loved me on the days I didn’t deserve it. You stood by my side on the good days and the bad. You put up with my moods and loved me regardless of my shortcomings.” He sniffled and lowered himself to the ground, laying his hand upon the grass. “You were there when I had nothing. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and I’m not gonna lie; this hurts.

  “This hurts more than I knew it would, but you wouldn’t want me to fall apart, so I won’t. I don’t believe
in heaven, but today I will for you. I hope you’re running through the biggest park filled with bones and chew toys. You were the best dog I could’ve ever wished for, and I can never thank you enough. I love you, Tuck. I always will. Always and always. Good night until tomorrow.”

  My ears perked up as the words ‘always and always’ fell from Jackson’s tongue. He didn’t even know what he’d said, but my family’s words had just fallen from his lips. I felt the chills as they caused goose bumps all along my arms.

  As he stood, he wiped the tears from his cheeks and turned my way with the saddest gaze I’d ever seen. Without a word, I wrapped my arms around him.

  He rested his forehead against mine and inhaled slowly. “Gracelyn Mae?”

  “Yes?”

  His lips brushed against mine as his eyes slowly shut. “I’m really glad you exist.”

  29

  Jackson

  Ten Years Old

  “Really?” I gleamed, staring at my parents. “I can really get one?!” My face hurt because I was smiling so hard. We were standing in the pet store staring at the cages with all different types of puppies.

  “Yes. You’ve been doing so great with your grades. Plus, we think you’re old enough to have a bit more responsibility now. So”—Dad gestured toward the dogs—“let’s find you a new friend.”

  I wanted to cry because that was what I wanted.

  I’d always wanted a friend, and now I was going to get one.

  My parents walked through the shop with me, pointing out which dogs they liked. They didn’t agree on anything, and then they’d say something mean to one another. Even though they tried their best to hide it, they fought underneath their breaths. I didn’t get why they were so annoyed with one another lately.

  All they had to do was say I love you to fix things.

  I didn’t let their fighting get to me that afternoon, though.

  I was on a mission to find the right dog to be my new partner in crime. That way, when my parents were fighting, I’d have someone to keep me company.

 

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