Page 85 of Bursting With Love
“Jackson.”
His father’s serious tone sent a jab of reality to his gut. There wasn’t a chance in hell this was going to be an easy night. What was I thinking? He turned to meet his father’s somber stare. His military-style haircut was now more gray than brown, though his thick, furrowed brows were still dark as ever. The skin on James Remington’s once chiseled features now hung a little looser from his cheekbones and jowls, but his imposing nature was just as strong as it had always been. Jack looked into the midnight-blue eyes—which were so much like his own—of the man who was his mentor, his hero, and his harshest critic. He pulled his shoulders back, knowing that even though he was younger and stronger, he couldn’t quite pull off the same commanding dignity that his four-star-general father always had.
“Dad. Mom.” Jack had the urge to run into his mother’s arms, as he had when he was a boy. He wanted to settle into the comfort and surety of her unconditional love and forget so much time had passed. But that wasn’t an option. Instead, he took in his mother’s beauty, his heart warming as she crossed the floor toward him.
Joanie Remington was the polar opposite of Jack’s father. She dressed in loose bohemian clothing and wore her gray hair long, while James looked as though he’d walked out of a military photo shoot: pristine navy jacket with perfectly pressed slacks and white dress shirt. Joanie opened her arms and embraced him.
She touched his cheek and looked up at him with the same bright blue eyes that she’d passed down to Kurt and Rush, and the love he saw pulled at his heart.
“Jackie, I’m so glad to see you,” she said.
She was nearly the same height as Siena—and Savannah, Jack realized. Her hand on his cheek reminded him of the endearing way Savannah had touched him earlier that morning. He’d turned his mom away so often, and once he moved to the cabin, he didn’t even have a phone line. He’d kept his cell phone but never left it on. When messages rolled in, he ignored them. Things between him and his father had gotten so tense after Linda’s death that it had been easier to block his mother out of his life, too, than to try and volley between the two. He realized now how much that must have hurt his family, especially his mother, who had been nothing but supportive his whole life.
“Me too, Mom. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come around.” He kissed his mother’s cheek and tried to suppress the tears that welled in his eyes. He blinked until his eyes dried, then shifted his gaze back to his father. Sage remained by the open door, and Jack had a fleeting thought that maybe he should just walk out that door. Escape his father’s torment. There is no escape. I deserve whatever he doles out.
“Dad.” He felt like he was sixteen years old again, telling his father that he wasn’t going to join the military right after high school—and he wasn’t sure if he ever would. His heart had hammered in his chest then just as it did now.
“Son.” He shot a look at Joanie, who lifted her brows and her chin in the silent urge Jack had come to know as a child. His father had ruled their house with an iron fist. No one dared go up against him, but every so often, his mother would take a quiet, though meaningful and determined stance, and in those times, Joanie headed the charge. There was no mistake in Jack’s mind that his father had a diatribe ready to push his disgruntled agenda—or that his mother would not allow that to happen.
His father continued. “You look good, Jack. Different.”
“I am,” was all he could manage.
Sage shot a look at Jack. His eyes widened, and in that flash, Jack knew that Sage had seen something unnerving. A second later, Rush walked through the door with the same stern look as his father and took his place beside him.
Jack clenched his jaw, wondering why his brothers and sister hadn’t warned him that Rush would be there after all. He felt Siena’s gentle touch on his shoulder, her breath in his ear.
“They didn’t tell me,” she said; then she crossed the tense space between the three men and embraced her father. “Hi, Daddy.” She hugged Rush, though it was more of a fast grab than a hug.
“Sweetheart, thank you for having us all here today,” his mother said, as Siena kissed her cheek and took her place beside her. Jack knew that by standing on the side of the room with him, they were supporting him, too.
The lines drawn in the Remington family weren’t like other families, where lines were faded and the families were unsure if they were imagined or really existed. James Remington made no bones about the lines he’d drawn through the years. He expected high achievements and ethical conduct—and military careers. As the eldest, Jack had forged the path for the others to follow. When he’d chosen not to attend West Point, his father had been livid, but after a few tough months, their relationship survived, and Jack assumed it was yet another one of his mother’s determined battles that had kept him from having the same struggle with each of his other kids.
