Page 34 of Smooth Moves
He didn’t know what to say to her. How to feel. Because it made no sense to be feeling depression and grief for a family that had never really existed, for a boy who’d been nothing but worthless his whole life.Shake it off, man. Let it go, he could hear Reid telling him.They’re gone.
Almost three decades had passed since that stupid picture had been taken, and Cash knew better than to expect happy thoughts from this hellhole.
He cleared his throat and announced, “We’re almost done, Jordan. Let’s wrap up soon.”Reid should be here doing this with me, damn it.Then he went back to the bathroom to clear out the cabinets and cupboards.
It was as he was cleaning out the linen closet that he found himself suddenly unable to process it all. Tucked between some dusty towels on the highest shelf in the closet, a small ceramic lion with uneven legs, a too-large brown mane, and googly eyes stared up at him.
A project he’d been assigned to make in elementary school. Silly Cash had thought to make his mother something special for Mother’s Day. But when he’d given it to her, she’d pushed it aside to make room for the new radio his father had purchased. His father had tossed the lion, breaking off its tail.
Cash stared at the thing, confused, because he could have sworn Angela had dumped it in the trash. Instead, the lion and its raggedy, glued-on tail sat protected. And next to it, the elephant Reid had made for her two years later.
He sat in the hallway, staring at the things, wanting to throw them against the wall and watch them shatter. Wanting to know why. Why had everything changed so suddenly?
He felt Jordan’s hand on his shoulder, but he couldn’t speak. His eyes felt dry, his throat scratchy. Yet he was frozen, so unworthy and so unlovable.
So why had Angela kept his lion?
* * *
Jordan felt for Cash. She kept piecing things together from what he’d told her and what she’d witnessed in this house.
How awful to have parents who hated you or, worse, who didn’t care.
Granted, she knew her family clearly favored those who gave them no trouble—namely, Leanne. Yet she couldn’t fault them completely; Jordan had tried her best to earn their displeasure. Still, that her parents favored Leanne wasn’t fair. Should she ever have children, she’d love them all unconditionally, equally. Like Rafi, who merited a second and third chance. He was her brother—family.
Watching Cash stare at creations only a child could have made, looking so lost and hurt, pained her deep inside.
She sat next to him, saying nothing, wanting just to be there for him. They sat in silence for some time until she carefully took the ceramic figure from him and placed it in the box he’d wanted to get rid of, the one she’d tucked away so Reid and Cash might have something from their childhood to remember.
Yeah, it wasn’t her place to interfere, but screw it. Cash deserved some decent memories.
She returned to see him lying in the hallway, staring up at the ceiling. His big body took up a lot of room, and she had to carefully ease around him.
“I hate popcorn ceilings,” he said in the sudden stillness. “They really date a house, you know?”
Shocked he’d even know what a popcorn ceiling was, she sat perpendicular to him, her back propped against the wall. Then she made a bold move and lifted his head to rest in her lap.
He didn’t resist her, but he did tense. “What are you doing?”
“Shut up.” She didn’t look down, instead stared at the walls, studying some fugly wallpaper as she stroked his hair. “I hate lime green.”
That startled a chuckle out of him. “Me too. I used to stare at that nasty wallpaper for hours when they sat me in the corner. Fucking lime-green vines and ass-pink roses.”
She blinked. “Ass-pink, huh?”
“Well, I had a few other words for it, butassis the nicest one I could come up with in mixed company.”
She chuckled and continued to stroke his hair, taken with the softness on a man with such an unbending will. She heard him sigh and, out of her periphery, saw him close his eyes. Touching him felt right, as did the notion she’d brought him some comfort in a place made up of painful memories.
She couldn’t have said how much time had passed, but he shifted beneath her. She glanced down, saw him staring at her, and stared back.
“Why did you do that?” he asked, only the sound of a clock’s ticking heard between them. As if they both held their breaths, anticipating her answer.
“Because I can?” A stupid answer, but it was light enough that Cash didn’t bolt. He smiled.
So damn prettywas all she could think. Then she leaned down and kissed him with a tenderness that surprised them both. She drew back and caressed his hair one final time. “Time for me to go.”
He nodded, lifted his hand to her cheek, and stroked her with a callused finger. “Yep. Time to go.”
