Page 119 of Rival
Frowning at the stretch of road in front of me, I realize Mason is just as shut out as I am. It’s fuckingGriffinwho’s managed to make his way back around her again. Although, his mistakes err on the side of miscommunication and the fact that he’s just a goddamn idiot.
My anxiety picks up, so I press the gas harder, wanting to get to my parents’ place. We’ve been spending more time together over the past few months, working through our grief together over Julia’s loss.
Pastor Josiah and Ruth ate dinner with us one night after a long conversation I had with them about how I’ve handled those dark moments when her passing hits me the hardest, which then resulted in decimating the woman I know I’ve fallen in love with. She eased her way inside through friendship, then became so much more. It happened so gently, like water trickling into a pail, and before I knew it, it was overflowing.
They talked us through different ways to ease the ache and soften the topic by sharing memories every day until it gets a little easier. I decided to add in details to force myself to decrease my hatred for Clayborn. It won’t fully go away and forgiveness is a long,longway off, but by finding one thing I blamed him for which wasn’t his sin to carry has really helped me understand that Julia’s death was nothing more than a tragic incident.
She wasn’t murdered. That’s the part eating at me to admit, but someday I’ll get there.
“Hey, mom.” Kissing her cheek once I make it to their house and find her in the kitchen, she reaches up and pats my face, then nods her head toward the fridge.
“There’s sweet tea. Your dad will be in soon.” She turns back to the counter and starts aggressively chopping cucumbers, then scoops the pile into a bowl and reaches for the next one.
“Whatcha making?” I ask, pouring myself a glass, then lean against the counter while I sip at it and watch her work.
She peeks up at me with a red face. “I did something that I hope you’re not upset about.”
Confused, I furrow my brows. “Doubtful, but what’d you do?”
“I asked Mason and Griffin to come over for dinner.”
Waiting for my response eagerly, I just shrug and take another sip. “I don’t know why you’d think that would be a problem.”
Hesitating, she adds, “They’re picking up Edith on their way.”
My hand freezes halfway, and I stare hard at my mother. “I’mnotupset about that, but did you push her into it, mom? Seriously, please tell me you didn’t pull some mom guilt trip on her to get her to say yes.”
“Honestly, Jax. What kind of woman do you think I am?” she huffs out, turning her now magenta face from me.
“You’re the kind of woman who wants to fix everything and fawn all over a pregnant belly.”
Sniffing in irritation, I start chuckling when she mutters, “Maybe. I didn’t this time, though. I simply gave her a ring, invited her to dinner, and promised we’d just chat about baby things… and maybe asked if she’d be offended if I rubbed her belly a little.That’s all!”
“Jesus, mom,” I groan, closing my eyes. Edith is going to think she’s psychotic.
Slapping me lightly on the arm, she hushes me. “Now, tell me a story, then I’ll tell you mine.” That’s code for sharing a memory about Julia.
Sobering up, I nod, looking down at my feet. “She covered my middle school jersey with paint. Remember the one we all got with our names put on the back in eighth grade? It was when we went to the end of season pizza party and the coaches did awards for those of us moving on to high school. They put our nicknames on the back. Anyway, she snuck into my room when she was like, I don’t know, thirteen or fourteen and was looking for something to use as a smock out in the garage for painting. She never paid attention to what she took, then proceeded to paint out there for the next four days.”
My dad chuckles, and I glance over, surprised I didn’t hear him walk in. Lifting my chin in greeting, I relax and keep going. It really does get easier with every story.
“I’m not sure why I went in there because I always stayed out of her space, but I needed to grab something. So, I walked in. She spun around to beam up at me, jabbing her brush over her shoulder at the painting. I didn’t hear a word she said because all I could see was freaking orange paint falling in massive drops over her shoulder and running down her arm.”
“Bet you were pissed,” dad says, grinning ear to ear.
“Furious.” It rushes out with so much passion that mom barks out a laugh. “That painting is the one over my desk in my office.”
Humming, mom’s laughter dies down a bit into softer giggles. “That girlwasa disaster, wasn’t she?”
I grin, dropping my chin to my chest. None of us need to answer because she was.
“Mine was when I took her to get her ears pierced on her eighth birthday. I wanted to take her to the mall where they have those little chairs outside the store and pop-pop, you’re done. We were waiting our turn and there was this little girl in the chair absolutely losing her mind, screaming and crying andfighting her mom, who was holding her down. The way your sister’s face went from smiling to ash wasimmediate.”
“She didn’t get her ears done at eight,” dad says, confused.
Smirking at him, my mom’s smile is borderline evil. “Iknow. I didn’t want her to get them done yet. I had always wanted her to wait until she was ten, but she was so desperate to have them, I didn’t have the heart to say no. That day was so traumatic that it took her another three years before she wanted to try again.Thattime, I took her to a piercing place. She didn’t even flinch.”
“Ahh, clever girl.” Dad’s mumbled praise reminds me that he still struggles with not having his little girl anymore. I haven’t told them Edith is having a girl yet. It didn’t feel like it was my news to share since I’m not positive I’m the father, but if Edith wants to, I know they’ll be over the moon.
