Page 77 of The Usual Family Mayhem

“Celia is my aunt. I love Mags and Celia. What happens with them matters to me. If they’re in trouble I’m going to help.”

The sweet words made my heart do a little jump.

Well, he needed to rein it in. So did I. The dark energy swirling around the room reflected just how serious this moment was. He had to feel the kick of that dark energy.

“That’s lovely but not relevant.” Yes, I’d made him my investigative wingman. I regretted that.

“We didn’t want either of you involved in this.” Celia’s voice sounded stronger now. Like that of a high school teacher who had seen enough and was putting an end to the chaos.

“What is the ‘this’ you’re referencing?” Jackson looked at Celia over the top of my head as he asked.

Loving him was going to kill me. There. I admitted it. My feelings for him weren’t random or fleeting. They also coveredthings like not putting him in danger. I never intended to do that but did. “Do not ask more questions.”

I didn’t realize until right then that I held Jackson’s arm in a death grip. My fingers wrapped around his impressive biceps. We stood just inches apart. I could feel his breath near my ear. Smell him.

“Sit down. Both of you.” Gram gave the order.

My balance faltered. “I don’t think—”

“Kasey Adelaide Nottingham. Do not argue with me.” Gram’s message was clear. She was done playing.

I balanced my forehead on Jackson’s shoulder for one blissful second then went back into the fire. I let go and fell in my chair, defeated. “Right. Caution be damned.”

Without a word, Jackson sat down at the table. The strain of the moment caught up with me. I wanted to curl up and slouch against him and will this discussion away. The rolling admissions needed to happen but coming clean about my role in the business pitch had stolen most of my strength.

Celia rested both hands on the table. She stared into her cup of tea. “I’m not sure where to begin.”

“With men problems.” Gram dropped that like she’d said a full sentence. “They’re the cause of all of this heartache.”

“Jackson, you might not understand this, but there are some men who can’t be reformed.” Celia sounded hesitant, like she was trying to wade in and be careful with her words.

He already looked confused. “Why wouldn’t I understand that?”

Celia touched her crime scene of a plate then moved it away from her. “Mags and I came from difficult household situations. Different types but both required an escape.”

“Don’t sugarcoat it.” Gram rushed in as if she needed to get the words out fast so she could go back to forgetting them again. “Some men are positively rancid. Edmund Dennison being the most obvious. He’s the kind of evil that should be wiped from the earth.”

My biological father. The most hated figure in Gram’s long life. She was right about him.

“The women in our family have a habit of picking bad men.” Gram stared at me for a few seconds before moving on. “My husband, Kasey’s grandfather, was not nice. He wanted the drapes closed at all times so the neighbors couldn’t see. He kept the walls, the furniture—everything—in a monochrome brown and black. Darkness inside and out.”

Gram’s love of color and wild prints now made sense.

“He didn’t believe in compromise or partnership. He led with his fists, and anything could set him off. When he was angry or tired or hungry. When he had a tough day. Because his boss hated him. Because it was Tuesday. He always had an excuse and a reason why his anger was my fault.”

My stomach roiled. A mix of fury and sympathy caught in my throat. I knew the broad strokes about Gram’s married life but not the details. Hearing her talk in that flat tone about being hit, imagining her trying to duck but not being able to outrun her husband’s wrath, would play in my head for a long time. How did she dodge the terrifying memories for all these years?

Another round of silent communication passed between Gram and Celia. This time I could hear it. Maybe I just guessed the words, saw the comfort. Celia sat there, listening, and taking in every harsh fact with her hand resting on Gram’s arm. Celia was Gram’s tether. Her lifeline.

“I tried to stay out of his way, be perfect, not cause trouble or wake him, and it was never enough. I never offered the right response at the right time. And if I tried to get away or fight back...” Gram’s words faded. “Life got worse.”

“Gram.” She’d experienced more heartache than anyone deserved. She was strong. A survivor. I didn’t want to say or do anything that suggested I viewed her any other way.

“The worst part was the impact on your mother. I have so much guilt. So much...” Gram’s voice broke.

Celia didn’t try to hide her pain at seeing Gram’s despair. “Mags, you can take a breath.”

“I need to say it. Get it all out.” Gram lovingly covered Celia’s hand with hers. “Even though I tried to pretend, to protect her, Nora knew what your grandfather was. He never used his fists on her, but she saw and heard what he did to me, and the damage was done.”

---