“Shit!” I yelled. “I don’t fucking need this!” I exhaled and scrubbed my hands down my face, then lowered a vehement brow at the sight of headlights approaching my driveway.
Chapter Twenty
Rebecca
Thursday, June 1, 2000 ~ Broken Promises
I was nervous. I prayed I had the directions right. Uncle Max was gracious enough to give me the address. He said it was a little haul on the outskirts of town, and he wasn’t joking. I made the first left after I crossed the county line, then drove for about six miles and took a right, just as he directed. Driving another two miles, I searched for Leisure Lane, which was a gravel road. Half a mile down Leisure Lane, I saw the driveway. My mouth went dry, and my palms began to sweat. This has to be it.
My heart pounded like a drum as I turned onto the road. Enormous live oaks lined the narrow path, creating long, dark shadows that melded into one another. The overhanging tree limbs formed a tunnel the whole length of the entrance, and brilliant beams of moonlight glistened through openings between the branches. The road was mysterious and enchanting. I wanted to stop and take it all in. Instead, I slowed down to make the drive last longer. Suddenly, I was reminded of those fairy tales from years ago, and with no resistance at all, my heart was home.
As I reached the end of the driveway, the bright moonlight revealed a two-story house with a wraparound porch encircled with more of the majestic live oaks. I pulled the car around and noticed a detached garage that was almost as large as the house. Both appeared to have white vinyl siding and dark raised-paneled shutters, a perfect picture of Southern charm, but far from outdated. I put the car in park, shut off the engine, and took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves before I got out.
The night was familiar and still. The country air, thick and warm, was cooled by a gentle breeze. Only the South could offer such a peaceful night. The soft, muffled buzz of locusts, and the faint sound of crickets chirping and frogs croaking in the distance sparked up nostalgia. Oh, how I longed to go back to the days of simplicity, where I felt whole and safe, hopeful for my future, to go back to believing in the fairy tale.
I looked around, holding on to the car door, as the smell of freshly cut grass made me feel even more like my heart was home. It had been years since I’d smelled that sweet, fresh scent. I hadn’t realized how much I missed it. Near the front porch, I noticed a little red tricycle, but there was no vehicle in sight. Then something else caught my eye. A tire swing hanging from a tall magnolia tree was swaying in the subtle breeze. The sight of it awakened more childhood memories, which drew me in and gave me the extra courage I needed to close the car door.
I gnawed on my bottom lip as I followed the sidewalk up to the porch. My stomach was churning from nerves, but I was determined to ignore it. I eyeballed the tricycle in passing and wondered if I had made a mistake. Thoughts swarmed around like honeybees in my mind. I climbed the steps and walked up to the front door. A tiny pair of pink tennis shoes rested neatly by the doormat. I took a deep breath and studied them a moment as I went over all the things I wanted to say. It had been such a long time, where would I even begin?
I rang the doorbell and breathed in. My heart thumped in my chest while I waited. Nobody answered, so I knocked—still, no answer. I leaned in closer to the door, hearing only silence. Just my luck. I’d gotten myself all psyched-up for nothing. I folded my arms, lowered my head, and sighed in disappointment.
“Rebecca?” From behind me, someone called my name—a man with an achingly familiar voice.
I turned around and there he was, standing motionless beneath the branches of an old oak tree. There was no mistaking the perfect masculine lines of his shape. I let my hands fall to my sides as he stepped out of the shadows. I was momentarily paralyzed and not sure I was even breathing. He wore a tight, white T-shirt that was so thin, it was almost see-through. His pecs pulled against the cotton, and his crinkly chest hair peeked out the V-neck. His fitted jeans were faded and holey, and a weathered ball cap covered most of his blond hair. He tilted his head slightly, revealing a thin beard and mustache on his perfect face. That face. Oh, God. It was the face that filled my dreams and fantasies. Maybe it was the way the moonlight fell across his chiseled jawline and sculpted chin, but he was far more handsome than I remembered.
He took a step toward me. Then I saw his eyes. They were deep sapphire blue, and they looked wild and hungry. They connected with mine only for a moment before wandering down, past my neck, pausing when they got to my chest, and then slowly moving farther down, assessing my entire body. I watched his lips part and felt my heart flutter. Oh, how I wanted to taste those lips.
An unfamiliar heat poured over me like warm syrup, running off my shoulders, down my arms to my fingertips, oozing over my breasts, and across my stomach, where it pooled in my womb. My breathing quickened as the warm pool grew hotter, sending electricity throughout my body.
As I stood there motionless, the aching need within me was running like an untamed beast. I had shut off the sensual side of myself and avoided intimacy for so long, I was surprised at how quickly it returned. It wasn’t just about sex. It was about trust. But, at this moment, that wasn’t a problem. Not with Jackson. I trusted him completely.
Seeing him after so many years, I suddenly realized my feelings had never died. I’d simply buried them. I had ignored them for so long, I’d fooled myself into believing I was over him. But he was an addiction I could no longer deny. Katie was right. What we had back then was a miracle. It was true love. And standing here right now, I realized I was falling even more in love with Jackson. I licked my lips and forced myself to swallow before I tried to speak.
“Jackson?” My voice was weak and shaky.
“Who were you expecting?” His tone sounded harsh.
“You. I mean, I was hoping to find you here.”
“Well, you did.” He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. His dark gaze was steady. “What are you doing here, Rebecca?”
The moment he spoke my name, my legs became jelly, but I willed them to hold me up. “I… I thought we could talk,” I managed to say, taking a step forward. I was hypnotized by his eyes. Eyes I’d known to be gentle and kind and as brilliant as the Gulf of Mexico were now suddenly intimidating and enraged and dark as the night sky. I bit my lips as I slowly started down the porch steps toward him.
“You’ve got some nerve to even show your face to me,” he hissed.
His words stopped me in my tracks, piercing my heart like a sword. The pain and hostility I heard in his voice sent chills through my body. His eyes slid down to my neck and again to my breasts, where they rested. This time, his lips hardened into a thin line of bitterness. He unhooked his thumbs and began making strides toward me, like a predator in the night.
All the breath left my body. I watched in silence as he moved closer. His eyes were locked on mine, paralyzing me. When he finally closed in, his hand flew up and grabbed me around the back of the neck. I gasped as he brought my face close to his. The burning pool inside me had grown into a raging fire. I raised my chin to find his eyes and felt his breath on my face.
Before I could speak, he kissed my lips, hard and angry. Forcefully, he parted them with his tongue. My neck fell limp in his hand as he ravaged my mouth, kissing me, deeper and harder. I reached up to push away, but when I touched his chest and felt his muscles constrict through his thin shirt, desire washed over me, and my body begged for more.
His thumb curled around to my throat, and he kissed me more passionately, sucking my tongue into his mouth. His heart pounded rapidly against my hand. I dug my nails into his chest and moaned with pleasure, welcoming the awakening in my body. I‘d become aroused so quickly, I ached. His tongue stroked mine, circling it wildly. He tilted his head slightly and kissed me deeper, making my breath catch in my throat. His fingers slid over my jaw as the heated kiss grew more tender. Then his hand slipped down my neck to my chest, where it paused between my breasts. As he traced my lips with
his tongue, I held in a whimper, hoping he would touch me. As if he read my mind, he slowly opened his hand wider and ran his thumb and pinky finger into the top of my bra, all the while, gently kissing my lips, sucking them into his mouth.
Then, without warning, he jerked his head up and looked at me with a fierce gaze. His breath, hot and labored. He glanced down at his hand on my chest and frowned. His eyes, stricken with guilt and regret. Without saying a word, he pulled his hand away and darted up the porch steps, straight to the front door.
“Jackson!” I cried.
He spun around belligerently. “What?” His jaw tight, teeth clenched.
“I don’t know,” I whimpered, drunk with desire. “I just wanted to talk. Can’t we talk?”
“I’ve got nothing to say to you, Rebecca.” His eyes glowed with anger.
“But Jackson! I… I…”
“You what, Rebecca?” he mocked.
“Oh, God… I shouldn’t have come.” I covered my face with my hands to resist crying.
“You’re right about that!” he snapped.
Stunned by his gruffness, I lowered my hands. With sorrowful eyes, I gazed at him in disbelief. We stood in the moonlight, staring at each other for what seemed like forever. I licked my sore, swollen lips as a tear rolled down my cheek.
“Go home, Rebecca.” He cocked his head toward the driveway. “Go back to New York, where you belong.” Clenching his teeth again, he turned to open the door.
Tears flooded my eyes as my emotions flared. In desperation, I cried out, “Jackson! I’m sorry!”
He spun on his heels. His brows pulled together in rage. “Sorry for what, Rebecca?” he shouted, finally expelling the anger that had been festering for years. His bitterness exploded. “Sorry for leaving me ten years ago, or sorry for showing up ten years too late?”
“I didn’t leave you, Jackson.” I began to weep.
“You did! You and I both know it!” His eyes narrowed as he glared at me, shaking his head in disgust. “You left me that day at the hospital, and you never came back! Our love is forever, huh? Right! Your sad little promise wasn’t worth shit!”
Just then, I realized he had heard me that night in the hospital. Tears poured down my face. “Jackson! I did come back! You have to believe me! The nurses wouldn’t let me see you! They said your mother—”
“Don’t go blaming her!” His temper erupted. “You always blamed my parents for everything!”
My gut clenched. “Jackson, I never—”
“What did you think was gonna happen here tonight, Rebecca?” His scowl deepened.
I swallowed thickly. “I don’t know, Jackson,” I cried. “I guess I hoped—”
“Hoped? Please! That ship’s sailed. I gave up hope of ever seeing you again a long time ago. Take your broken promises and go home, Rebecca.” His lips hardened again, and his eyes were filled with resentment. “And do us both a favor, don’t ever come here again.”
My lip trembled, and my heart dropped to my feet like a lead weight as I watched Jackson walk into the house, slamming the door behind him without giving me a chance to explain.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rebecca
Friday, June 2, 2000 ~ A Shitty Night
I woke to the scent of fried bacon and sausage cooking. The smell took me back to when my mom used to cook big breakfasts before school. I rubbed my eyes and sat up. Immediately, excruciating pain blinded me as a bolt of lightning shot through my temples. Squinting, I grabbed my head with both hands.
“Dear God! Did I really drink that much?” I moaned, gently massaging my scalp. “What was I thinking? And why was I drinking? Oh yeah.” I sighed. “Jackson.”
I threw off my covers and drug my feet off the bed. I was naked from the waist down. What the hell? I got out of bed and stumbled to my bathroom. I really needed to pee. And by the odor, I also needed a shower. For some reason, I smelled like vomit. And shit. Eww! What the hell?
I turned on the hot water and ripped off my T-shirt. My face was a mess. And my hair... What in the world? I stepped in the steamy shower and washed everything twice. After I dried off, I twisted my hair in a towel and pulled some clothes from my overnight bag. Thankful my headache had lulled to a dull throb, I towel-dried my hair and ran a comb through it before heading to the kitchen.
“Well, there’s a sight for sore eyes!” My mom threw her hands in the air and grinned. “Gimme some sugar!”
I shuffled over to kiss her on the cheek. “Hey, my sweet momma. How are you?”
“Better, now that you’re here.” She held my face in both hands and studied me, inspecting me for wrinkles, I guessed. “Are you getting enough rest? You best be taking better care of yourself, or you’ll grow up looking just like me.”
“Momma, if I grew up to look just like you, that’d be a blessing. You don’t look a day over thirty-five.” I grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away from my face, kissing them both affectionately. “What’s for breakfast? It sure smells good.” I took a seat at the table and noticed Katie’s purse was sitting on the counter.
“Bacon, sausage, and eggs. I thought about making biscuits, but I figured toast might be better for your tummy this morning.” She winked at me, then grabbed a coffee cup from the cabinet. I smiled, remembering our breakfasts together before school. The smells, the conversations, the busyness, and laughter. Mornings were wonderful back then.
Momma brought me a cup of black coffee and stroked the top of my head.
“Thanks.” I took a long sip and felt the liquid warm my insides, bringing life to my hungover body. “What’s Katie’s purse doing here?” I asked.
The toilet in the guest bathroom flushed, and Katie came around the corner. She was wearing pink silk pajamas with her initials embroidered on the breast pocket, matching pink fuzzy slippers, and a black silk sleeping mask pushed up on her forehead.
I wrinkled my brow. “You stayed here last night?”
“Don’t you remember?” She held up her hand to stop me from responding. “Never mind. Of course you don’t remember,” she said, walking over to give Momma a hug. “Morning, Mrs. Sharp.”
“Good morning, baby.” Momma hugged Katie and grabbed another cup from the cabinet. “How’d you sleep?”
“Terrible, thanks.” Katie cut her eyes at me as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
Momma chuckled and put some bread in the toaster. “It’s just like old times.”
Katie took a seat by me at the table. “Just like old times,” she repeated, patting me on the wrist.
“I hope y’all are hungry.” Momma raked some eggs onto our plates and brought over the toast and bacon and sausage. Everything looked and smelled incredible.
I grabbed a piece of toast. “Where’s Dad?”
“He went to the parts store this morning, so I’m sure he’ll be awhile. He said he needed to change the oil in everything we own. Which means he’ll end up coming home with a load of junk we don’t need and tools he’s already got.”
Katie giggled.
“I ain’t joking. You girls just wait. Married life is wonderful, but sometimes it makes you wanna stick a fork in your eye.”
“Oh, Mrs. Sharp, y’all are great together. Honestly. You’re an inspiration to our generation. You give us hope that true love still exists.” Katie took a sip of coffee. “Finding it’s a different story.”
“Don’t let her kid you, Mom. She’s found her Prince Charming.”
“Really?” Mom’s eyes brightened. “Well, spill the tea, girls!”
“There’s no tea to spill,” Katie said. “I’m simply going to the reunion with Andrew Garcia. It’s not even a date.” She tossed a piece of bacon at me along with her go-to-hell look.
“She’s lying. It’s a date. Andrew specifically asked her to be his date.” I returned the evil look. “Besides, Katie has wanted to have sex with him since we were in high school, so it’s definitely a date.”
Katie’s face turned three shades of red. She c
leared her throat and quickly changed the subject. “Mrs. Sharp, aren’t you having breakfast?”
Momma laughed out loud. “No, honey. I split a cream cheese bagel with Bobby earlier this morning. Y’all go ahead and eat up. Sounds like you may need to stock up on your energy.”
Katie blushed and spread some jelly on her toast.
“Now tell me about last night,” Momma said, sipping her coffee. “It appears you girls had quite a time.”
Katie and I looked at each other like two ten-year-old girls who’d been caught smoking a cigarette. I bit my lip, and Katie started laughing.
“Mrs. Sharp, I don’t know if you can stomach such a story so early in the morning.”
Momma raised one eyebrow and grinned. “That good, huh?”
“Your daughter behaved as if she’d never drunk a drop of alcohol in her life.”
Momma’s eyes darted over to me. “Spill it, Katie. But give me one second. I’m gonna get y’all some aspirin. And I think this one could also use a glass of tomato juice.”
I nibbled on a slice of dry toast and managed to swallow a few bites of scrambled eggs. Despite how wonderful the bacon and sausage smelled, I simply couldn’t stomach the grease. I welcomed the aspirin and tomato juice, though, especially once Katie started talking.
“Rebecca went to see Jackson last night…”
Momma’s eyebrows nearly flew off her face as she took a seat at the table. She shot me a look of what I thought was disapproval, then cleared her throat and took a sip of her coffee.
“Things didn’t go so well. He basically told her to leave and never come back. When she called me, she was pretty upset, so we took a drive around town, then went to the mall.” Katie took a bite of toast and reached for some sausage and bacon. “That place is really run down, by the way. But The Body Shop still had some stylish clothes.”
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