At Peace
Page 31

 Kristen Ashley

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I looked up at Feb, who had a Diet Coke in one hand and baby Jack at her hip. I sat up and lifted my arms.
“Give him to me.”
She handed Jack over to me, mumbled, “Thanks,” and collapsed into the grass beside me.
I settled Jack into my lap or, more aptly, I let Jack squirm and play in my lap. The kid was active. Feb pulled her hair out of her face and lay back on an elbow.
“How’re the wedding plans goin’?” I asked her and her eyes came to me.
“Something I’ve learned,” she said. “When a man tells a woman he wants the wedding big, the biggest, the woman should tell him he has two choices, either he plans it or she’ll buy the tickets to Vegas on the internet.”
I smiled at her. “Hard work?”
Her eyes went to baby Jack doing baby squats in my lap while holding onto my hands then they moved to Colt who was smiling at Morrie while Morrie told a story then they came back to me and she grinned.
“Not really.”
I looked at Feb then I looked at her yard which was filled with food and drink and sunshine and people she cared about. She and Colt had been through the ringer, even made national news and here she was with her baby and her man and her family and friends, living a good life.
Hope. There was always hope. Losing Tim, I’d lost sight of that. I’d thought I’d found it, stupidly, but then I’d been played by Joe and made too much of it. My daughters were healthy and happy and moving on to boyfriends and dogs. Tim was gone but there were still sun and friends and life.
“You need any help,” I said to Feb, “I’m right across the street.”
“Thanks but with Mimi, Dee and Jessie in the mix, I got all the help I need,” Feb replied, baby Jack lurched forward and grabbed onto my hair, yanking hard. “God, sorry, Vi, he’s strong like his Dad.”
I extricated his baby fingers from my hair and smiled at her. “Not a problem at all, forgot how this was,” I looked down at Jack. “Sounds stupid but, remembering, it feels good.”
“Only a Mom would say that. He pulls Jessie’s hair, she freaks.”
I kept smiling at her and as I did so, I watched her face change.
“Gonna say this quick, Vi, don’t wanna f**k up the day. But you know I know how it feels to have some creepy psycho messin’ with your life. You need to talk, you need anything from Colt or me, we’re here. Anytime. We know how it is and we don’t like that you’re across the street with your girls, alone. It’s messin’ with Colt’s head, thinkin’ this guy could come anytime, f**k with you and he might not be around. So he messes with you or you get freaked or you just want company, don’t think about it, you just call. It’d make Colt feel better, you do. He prefers doin’ somethin’ rather than hangin’ around worrying. Yeah?”
I didn’t know whether to feel bad, considering that my situation was messing with their heads, or to feel good that I lucked out and moved across the street from such good people.
I decided to feel good.
“Thanks Feb, that’s sweet.”
“Don’t tell me it’s sweet, honey, tell me you’ll call.”
I nodded and pulled her son close to my chest, wrapping my arms around him to give him a squeeze. Then I dropped my head and kissed the top of his dark-haired, soft, fuzzy baby one.
“I’ll call,” I mumbled against Jack’s baby head.
“Good,” Feb said softly and I took in a breath, nuzzled Jack’s baby head and he squirmed, not thrilled about his captivity so I let him go and took his hands, allowing him to bounce in my lap again when Feb muttered, “Matchmaker.”
I looked up to see Keira, Heather and Joe under the sideless tent. Keira had my plate of cupcakes in her hand and she was shoving them at Joe.
Shit.
“She’s social,” I told Feb and watched as Keira pointed at me, pointed at the cupcakes and then rolled her eyes and let her head fall back in a “Mom’s cupcakes are to die for” gesture.
Shitshitshit!
My cupcakes were good even I had to admit that. Another recipe I’d fiddled with, yellow cake with crushed up bars of gourmet dark chocolate baked in them and vanilla bean frosting that was simply orgasmic. So much so it was a wonder any made it to the cupcakes since I ate most of it while icing.
But it wasn’t that Keira wanted to share the bounty of my cupcakes. It also wasn’t that my daughter had a crush on Joe.
It was that she wanted him for me.
Shit!
This annoyed me and surprised me. Tim had been gone awhile it was true, but not that long.
Then again, life had changed, I had changed and I didn’t hide my pain when Tim died. The girls were also in pain and I didn’t want them to think they had to hide it either. I didn’t want them to bury that only to have it eat at them later and, weirdly, I wanted us to give that to Tim. I wanted my girls and anyone to know I was inside out with losing Tim. I wanted people to see it because they’d know who Tim was and what he meant to me and that he was the kind of man whose death would cause that kind of pain. Because he was.
But my daughter loved her mother; Keira would want to take away that pain.
Shit!
“Keira’s a nut,” I told Feb and I looked from my daughter and Joe, who had taken a cupcake and was in the process of taking a huge bite, to Feb.
“And Cal’s a good guy,” she said back, I felt my body jolt at the look on her face and I knew that she knew about Joe and me. How she knew, I didn’t know. But she knew.
“I –”
“We’ll have drinks, you and me, one day soon. I’ll explain and maybe, when I do, you’ll give him a break and a second chance.”
A break? A second chance? What was she talking about?
First of all, he didn’t deserve a break. Secondly, he didn’t want a second chance.
“Feb –” I started.
“Feb!” Colt yelled. “Baby, we got any more Bud?”
“I feel like I’m at work,” she muttered then shouted across the yard, “Yeah, it’s in the fridge in the garage.”
Colt looked at his woman, Feb looked at her man. I knew where this was going. Even though he mowed the lawn, erected a tent and stood at the grill for the last two hours and she’d probably been planning this for weeks and preparing for days, doing the grocery shopping, cooking and running around, they were locked in a standoff as to who was going to replenish the drink coolers. She was sitting in the grass, taking a break. He was manning the grill which he considered work even though it was mostly just standing there. Therefore, Feb was going to lose.