by Addison Cole
“I won’t tell him.”
“You’ve never been able to keep a secret from him,” she said.
“If it’s that important, maybe you shouldn’t tell either of us,” Jack pointed out.
“No. I’ve covered for your father for a very long time, and it’s time he deals with what he couldn’t so many years ago. I can’t sit back and watch our family divided any longer, Jack. I know how much courage it took for you to find your way back to us, and I’m sure much of that has to do with the new woman in your life.”
“Savannah,” Jack said, missing her more than ever.
“Yes, Savannah. She must have sparked something in you that reminded you of how beautiful love could be, and I’m thrilled by that, Jack. She must be very special.”
“And very patient to have gotten through all that anger you had,” Siena pointed out. She picked up her water and sipped it through a straw, ignoring the harsh glare her mother cast her way. She rested her head on Jack’s shoulder. “I love you whether you’re angry or not, but I can’t imagine falling for someone who was as angry as you.”
“Thanks, sis,” he said.
“You know what I mean.” Siena righted her head as the waitress brought their meals.
“Anyway, Esther and your father dated before we met. They were best friends for years, and it turned romantic. Esther got very sick and, well, she never made it past her eighteenth year. That was the year your father was to join the military. Well, you know your grandfather. There wasn’t much wiggle room with where your father’s future lay. He was never given the opportunity to mourn the loss of his best friend, and he could never do what you did, Jack. You took things into your own hands and threw caution to the wind. You took care of you instead of appeasing everyone else, and I admire you for that—even if it was the hardest thing a mother could watch her son go through.”
Guilt squeezed his heart again, but not so much that he lost sight of what his mother had just unveiled. “Do you think Dad is upset because I went away and he couldn’t or didn’t?”
“I think that might have something to do with it, yes. I don’t think he’s upset with you, necessarily. He just doesn’t know what to do with his own grief.” His mother reached across the table and touched his hand again. Her eyes softened.
Jack felt as if he were stuck. He had no idea how to fix things between him and his father, and it didn’t sound like his mother had the answers, either.
“I’ve missed you, Jack.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Mom. I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to move forward. I thought everyone blamed me as much as I blamed myself.”
“I never blamed you, Jack,” Siena said.
“I know.” He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “Savannah has helped me to deal with a lot of that garbage. Mom, you’re right. She is a big part of why I’m finally taking the steps I should have taken a long time ago. She’s helped me break down the barriers I’ve put up between me and the rest of the world. But if what you’re saying is that Dad is upset because I did what he couldn’t, then I’m not sure how I can fix that.”
“Your father is stubborn, but he’s a loving man. I know you don’t always see the softer side of him, but it exists. Remember when you came back from your last tour and you were up for days on end worrying about the guys who were still over there?”
“I forgot about that. He stayed up on the phone with me almost all night for several nights in a row.” The memories were filtering back, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. He’d known his father was exhausted. He’d heard it in his voice, and yet he remained steadfast in his support of Jack, telling him how proud he was of him and how well he’d done for his country.
“Do you remember when he gave you his old truck? He didn’t want to. Did you know that?” she asked.
“I thought it was to haul things, as he said.” Jack took a drink of his iced tea.
“He knew you needed something to haul things with all that acreage, but more important, he knew how much it meant to you. You used to ride in it just to be close to him. He wanted you to have those memories. He’s a good man, Jack, just like you.”
She sat back, and Jack felt her watching him as he mulled over what she’d just said.
“How is Jack supposed to navigate this, Mom? It sounds like it’s Dad’s issue, not Jack’s.”
“Correct. It’s your father’s issue. Jack just needs to be patient and try to remember who your father really is at his heart, so when he’s ready to forgive and apologize, Jack is receptive to it.”
Jack wondered why he’d buried the more positive memories of his father, and he wondered if he’d repressed them before or after Linda’s accident. He wished he knew.
“Do you remember the rabbit we had when I was about eight?” he asked.
“Of course. Wubbles.” She smiled.
“Right.”
“Wubbles? I don’t remember a Wubbles,” Siena said.
“You weren’t born yet,” their mother said. “Jack had a rabbit that he adored. Heaven knows why he had to have that rabbit, but he did, and he loved the darn thing so much. One day when he went out to feed him, he found that Wubbles had gone to the great rabbit hutch in the sky.”
“Aw. That must have been so sad,” Siena said.
“It tore him up, and your father wasn’t very patient with him.” She pointed her index finger at Jack. “But you were a little pill. You refused to eat or sleep for days, and while I don’t agree with how your father pushed you to get you back into life, I do think you needed to be pushed.”
Jack rubbed his hand over his face. Savannah was right. “I guess perspective is everything. I have a kid’s-eye-view with that one. I just remember him telling me to basically get over it. I don’t remember anything that I did around that time. You know, Mom, I wonder if I should just talk to him again, now that I know about Esther. Maybe if he knows I understand what he went through…”
“Don’t you dare. You promised me you’d keep it a secret, and I trust that you will, Jack.”
She said it so forcefully that Jack put his hands up in surrender. “I will. I’m sorry.”
“It could be a year before he comes around, or he could come around tomorrow. I don’t have any idea, and I can’t talk with him about it. This is too close to his heart. All I can tell you, Jack, is that he’s your father and he loves you. When he’s finally ready, I hope you’ll treat him with the same unconditional love that your sister and brothers have treated you.”
“I want nothing more than to be a family again, Mom. I promise you that I’m done with the anger. I’m feeling a lot like my old self again, and it feels too good to ever go back.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
SAVANNAH WAS ON the phone with Josh when her apartment door opened and Jack walked in. He held up the key and mouthed, It worked. He set a number of packages on the floor and joined Savannah on the couch. She held up one finger and blew him a kiss while listening to Josh.
“Okay, so we’ll see you and Riley tomorrow night. Yeah. I can’t wait. Love you, too.” She ended the call and was surprised to see how many shopping bags Jack had. “Wow, you guys really did go shopping. How fun.”
“Fun? You’ve never shopped with Siena and my mother. Siena wants to dress me like I’m a twentysomething skater, and my mother has strong opinions of her own. I did enjoy spending the day with them, though.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Sorry I’m so late. I spent a little time getting reacquainted with the city.”
“You did? With all those eyes on you?” she teased.
He kissed her again, and Savannah deepened the kiss. She’d been thinking about him all afternoon, and just the thought that he now had a key to her apartment kicked up her excitement. She’d never left a man alone in her apartment before, much less given one a key, and with Jack she didn’t have one second of unease about either.
“I’m so glad you were able to spend time with them.” The way he looked at her, the wa
y he moved, even the way he spoke was more at ease. Savannah had a feeling that she was finally seeing the real Jack Remington—and she loved him even more than she did the day before.
“Actually, I got you a few things, too.” He retrieved the packages and brought them to the couch.
“You didn’t need to get me anything.” Savannah loved gifts as much as any woman, and her stomach jumped with anticipation to see what he’d picked out for her.
“I noticed that you had on cowgirl boots when we were in the mountains, and while they were extremely sexy, I thought you might want something a little more sturdy. That is, assuming you’ll want to spend any time at all at my cabin.” He handed her a beautiful pair of leather hiking boots.
“Oh, Jack. That was so thoughtful. How did you know my size?” She ran her fingers over the soft leather.
“I might have peeked in your closet, but I promise I didn’t snoop at anything personal.”
She wrapped him in a tight hug. “I love these, and I would love to spend time at your cabin. I’d spend time anywhere with you.”
“Well, that’s good, because I have a few more things for you. They’re not as exciting, but I think you’ll appreciate them.” He handed her a bag, and Savannah withdrew the contents.
“Toilet paper? Body wipes? Flannel pajamas? A bathrobe. Indoor-outdoor slippers? Are you trying to tell me something?”
Jack smiled. “Only that I love you. I know how you hate going to the bathroom in the woods, and you can’t always shower in the stream. If you’re going to come on any survival weekends with me, I want you to be comfortable. The toilet paper and wipes are biodegradable, and the bathrobe is in case you do decide to take a dip in the stream. It’ll keep you warm afterward. And these…” He held up the pajamas and slippers. “Are for when you get cold at night. Although you’ll be in my tent, and I plan on keeping you very, very warm.”
The seduction in his voice and the hungry look in his eyes drew her lips to his.
“You’re so thoughtful. I love everything. Thank you.”
Jack kissed her again. “After Siena and my mother left, I had time to do some thinking.”
Savannah’s pulse sped up at the mix of sensuality in his eyes and the seriousness in his voice. Before she could decipher what it might mean, there was a knock at the door.
“Are you expecting someone?” Jack asked.
Savannah went to answer it. “No.” She looked through the peephole. “I don’t know who it is. A man.”
In a few quick steps, Jack was between Savannah and the door. He pulled it open, and Savannah saw his body stiffen. She peered around him, and the resemblance between the two men was undeniable. The same dark eyes, the same high cheekbones, the same broad chest.
“HELLO, JACK.”
His father stood before him in a gray suit and tie, and for a breath, Jack’s world stood still. “Dad,” was all he could say. How did you find me? Why are you here? He felt Savannah’s hand on his lower back, and he stood between the two of them. His father could hurt him with his harsh stares and whatever else he had in store, but he wouldn’t allow any of that nonsense toward Savannah. He put his arm around her and, feeling torn between pride for his strong, war-hero father and remembering how much it had hurt the evening before when he hadn’t accepted his apology, Jack raised his chin and did the only thing he could—he showed Savannah that despite what might happen in the next ten minutes, he was proud of her and proud of himself.
“This is my girlfriend, Savannah. Savannah, this is my father, James Remington.”
Savannah’s trusting eyes smiled at his father. James shook her hand and smiled, and Jack felt a pang of hope—and tried not to let it carry him away. After what his mother had told him, he knew this was not going to be an easy fence to mend.
“Nice to meet you, Savannah. Please excuse the interruption into your evening. My daughter gave me your address, and while I should have called first, I wasn’t thinking as clearly as I should have been.”
His father had always exhibited good manners, which, Jack realized, was one reason he was so struck by the way he’d treated him the previous night.
“Don’t be silly. You’re welcome here anytime. Come in, please.” She stepped back and allowed him to pass.
Savannah touched Jack’s hand, but he was busy trying to figure out how to politely take whatever conversation was about to happen out of earshot from Savannah to respond. She slid her hand up his arm and squeezed his forearm.
“I’ll just take my things back to the bedroom and give you some privacy,” she said.
Jack watched her gather her things. He couldn’t find his voice to say thank you, but as Savannah touched his cheek on the way to the bedroom and her green eyes reassured him, he knew he didn’t have to.
“Would you like to sit down?” he asked his father. Jack’s nerves were tangled in knots. He’d promised his mother not to reveal what she’d shared with him, and he knew his father never would. Which left him wondering what could possibly be done to bridge the gap between them—something he wanted more than almost anything else at that moment. The thing he wanted most was to move forward with Savannah, but no matter how contentious things had become between them, his father owned a hunk of his heart that would never belong to anyone else, and Jack wanted to move forward with his new life with a whole, fulfilled heart.
He followed his father to the couch, then opted for a chair instead so he could look him in the eye.
“Your mother doesn’t know I’m here, so before we talk, I’d like to ask that you don’t tell her I came.” His father rubbed his hands together, then settled them in his lap.
Jack had never seen his father act any other way than in complete control, and now, watching his hands unclasp and rub the thighs of his slacks and his eyes dart around the room, he saw a different man emerging, and Jack wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“Okay.” Breathe. Just breathe.
“Son, I’m not here to berate you, so you can put your shoulders back down where they belong.”
Despite his nerves, Jack breathed a sigh of relief.
“Ever since you were a boy, you wore your emotions on your sleeve. I recognize the tension in your body and the worry in your eyes, and I’m sorry that seeing me instills such a reaction. But I think maybe it always has.”
“No, Dad—”
His father raised his hand. “Please. If there’s one thing I know, it’s truth. And I’m well aware of the choices I’ve made in life. Jack, when you were born, my entire life changed. The minute I held you in my arms, the responsibility that pressed in on me was all-consuming.” His stare softened as he continued. “Your mother handled it differently, though she was equally, if not more, enamored by you and amazed by the magnitude of responsibility that comes along with having a child. She believed that we needed to love and support everything you did, even if it was, for lack of a better word, stupid.”
Jack looked away. That crack cut him to the bone. I wasn’t stupid for missing Linda.
“You know how hard your mother works on her sculptures and paintings, and I know you remember her toiling in the garden for hours so our family could eat organic vegetables, of all things. But you may not remember the day you thought you’d make your own sculpture while she was off taking a shower or something. You gathered all of the vegetables—every last one of them—and you brought them into her studio and used pounds and pounds of clay to create a garden sculpture. It was one big gloppy mess of clay with vegetables stuck haphazardly throughout. Your mother had a gallery deadline to meet at the time, and of course it was a Sunday evening, so getting her hands on more clay before the next morning wasn’t even an option. Being the resourceful kid that you were, you washed up and never said a word until she was putting you to bed hours later. Do you remember how she used to say good night and then she’d toil away in her studio for hours while I was on kid duty?”
Jack vaguely remembered something about her garden and clay, but he couldn�
��t reconcile the story—or his father taking over their care—to any concrete memory. He shook his head.
“No. I guess you wouldn’t. When your mother came back inside, she didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. The light in her eyes was gone. When I saw what you had done, I was livid. I knew your mother was devastated to have lost the clay she relied on, and I knew the idea of her hard work in the garden being for naught was even worse, because she’d grown them for us. For you kids. I laid into you, Jack. As I believed I should. I told you how irresponsible you were being, and I made you work for the next month doing anything your mother asked—in the garden and in her studio.”
Jack shook his head. “Dad, I don’t even remember that.”
“Maybe not, but I remember every second of it. You said you hated me, and I thought”—he raised his eyebrows and smiled—“that’s okay, because you’ll learn from it and it’ll make you a better, more responsible man.”
“Dad, how does this have anything to do with what’s going on now?” Jack leaned forward, trying to understand.
“Because I remember that like it was yesterday. And I did more of that, pushing, instilling harshness upon you, trying to strengthen your resolve and make you understand the importance of being a responsible man. Jack, you were my first child. I had no experiences to fall back on or learn from. I know now that kids do silly things all the time, and I know you didn’t make that sculpture out of anything other than a child’s curiosity or wanting to do something you thought your mother might be proud of, and I’m sorry for pushing you so hard.” He looked away and clenched his jaw, and when he looked back, his eyes were damp. He blinked away the dampness, and Jack lowered his eyes, ashamed to see his father as a weaker man. No. He raised his eyes and met his father’s gaze. You’re not weak at all. You’re human.
“Jack, when you turned your back on your family and on everyone, I took that as a personal affront. I saw it as my fault, because I taught you how to be a man. And the only way I could diffuse my own guilt was to thrust that guilt back on you.”