Finding Mercy: The Next Generation Page 9

  Whoa. Tell his mom?

  We said our goodbyes and left together. The walk out was less tense than the walk in had been. When we’d first gotten to the office his head had been on a swivel, checking to see who was watching us. No one cared. I knew there’d be talk after we left, but that was normal office gossip. This morning when I told Bruce he didn’t need to call Jason, I’d done it on purpose. Two birds, one stone. I’d let the insinuation hang because if Bruce was indeed asking me on a date, which I thought was unlikely, he’d get the point I wasn’t interested without things getting awkward. I also thought it was best to rip the Band-Aid off quickly with Jason. I knew he’d want to hide. I didn’t hide. Never have, never will. Even if this was short-lived, I wouldn’t be anyone’s secret. Thankfully, he’d handled it better than I’d thought he would.

  The drive to the diner was quick, and he told me about his conversation with his sister. She was extremely upset about the students who’d overdosed. She also told him she’d poke around, once again he asked her not to, now more than ever, she had to stay clear. The last thing we needed was the case blown because she was snooping around. She’d agreed, but Jason wasn’t confident she’d listen.

  The hostess seated us, and a very attractive server came to the table straight away, smiling at Jason. I might as well have been invisible. The strange thing was he was oblivious. Her blatant flirting didn’t bother me, what did was how unaware he was. It hurt my heart to think about him going through life with blinders on. How much had he really missed?

  “Does that happen often?” I asked when the waitress left with our orders.

  “What?”

  “Seriously? She was totally flirting with you.”

  “Who? Maggie? No way. She waits on me every time I come in here.”

  “Right. And why do you think that is? She’s totally got the hots for you.”

  He was quiet for a long time. His gaze was on me, but he’d completely zoned out. It was fascinating to watch as the emotions played across his face until realization dawned.

  “I honestly never noticed before. I’m sorry. I’ve never been interested in her.”

  “I didn’t think you were. You’re a good looking man, Jason. I’m sure women hit on you all the time.”

  “They don’t.” His face twisted into a grimace. “Or maybe they do, and I’ve been in my head for so long I never paid attention.”

  The waitress set our coffee on the table, and Jason fidgeted, not looking up. I said thank you for both of us, and when she left, he mumbled, “Great. Now I feel like an idiot.”

  With a shake of his head he brought his eyes back to mine and suddenly he looked serious. “I have a question for you. And if your answer is no, I completely understand. I know it’s really soon and fast, so if you don’t want to, just tell me and—”

  “Just ask.”

  “Tomorrow is Sunday dinner. I know you heard Delaney talk about it, and the other day when I talked to my dad, he mentioned it again. Would you go with me?”

  “To dinner at your mom and dad’s?”

  “Yeah. And my, um, sisters will all be there, too.”

  “You sure you’re ready for that?”

  I should’ve been the one freaking out about meeting his family but I was more worried about him and his state of mind. Delaney had told me Jason had dipped out on most Sunday dinners for the last two years. And over the last year he’d pulled away from everyone in the family. This was a total one-eighty.

  “I am. I want you there.”

  “Why?”

  He looked shocked by my question. “What do you mean, why?”

  “Why now?”

  “Because I’m ready to start living. And now that I’ve been able to take a full breath of air and really breathe again, I don’t want to wait.”

  “Okay, Jason. I’d love to go.”

  His hands moved across the table, and he took both of mine in his. “Thank you.”

  I wasn’t sure what he was thanking me for, but it felt nice. Now, if I could keep myself from freaking out, I’d be A-Okay.

  17

  After a mellow morning with Mercy, I left her house to go to mine. There were a few things I needed to take care of before we headed to dinner tonight at my parents’. Walking into my house felt odd. I was used to the emptiness, I felt that every time I entered, but today it was different. No part of the dwelling felt like me, it hadn’t taken but an hour for my skin to crawl, and the walls to close in. I didn’t belong here, I belonged in Mercy’s space. I’d spent the worst of my days in this house, heartbroken, lonely, and slowly falling apart. And that was all before Kayla had died. After Kayla, the guilt over how I’d felt when she was alive had shaken me to my core. If I’d thought I’d felt loneliness and regret while she’d been alive, it was nothing compared to the depth of my despair once she was gone.

  All the years we’d spent together, the happy times, the not so happy ones, me failing our relationship, not being able to save her, not talking her into treatment a second time. All of it. Everything swirled together into a perfect storm that tore through my life like a hurricane. Complete with lightning that stopped my heart and thunder that made my ears roar and my mind noisy. I couldn’t think in this house. But I’d stayed, ignoring everyone telling me I needed to sell it and move. All because I’d wanted to punish myself. I didn’t deserve to find happiness when Kayla couldn’t.

  I angrily swiped a sweater from a stack in my closet and saw an old shoe box that had belonged to Kayla. Over the first year after Kayla had passed, I’d gone through her things. Some I gave to her parents, some I donated, and some I’d thrown away. I think of all the items I’d gone through, throwing her toothbrush, makeup, and hair stuff away was the hardest. The day I took her shampoo and conditioner out of the shower I’d melted down. Why was I still alive and given a second chance when Kayla wasn’t? That may’ve been the day I’d convinced myself I deserved to suffer, living alone in the house we’d shared. Death had a funny way of fucking with your head.

  I grabbed the box and carried it to the bed, opened it, and dumped the contents out. What was left of our lives spilled onto the comforter. Years now fit into one tiny box. The ticket stub from the first movie I’d taken her to, a key ring I’d bought her, the promise necklace I’d given her, and other miscellaneous stuff that, at one time meant something, now mocked me. This was it. An old cell phone and some keepsakes were all I had left. And her wedding rings. Two bands. One I’d slipped on her finger when I asked her to marry me, the other when I promised her a life full of happiness and joy.

  For years I’d pondered where I’d gone wrong. At what point had I failed? We were happy in the beginning. We had our whole life planned out, until she got cancer. Six fucking letters that ruined everything. But we’d beaten it together. We’d fought. We’d been strong. A united front as Kayla had battled for her life, and we’d won. We’d grown closer than ever. But any intimacy we’d once had was gone. It was like during that time of extreme trauma we’d become the closest of friends, but the passion and her love for me as her husband had drained away.

  The day she told me she thought we should divorce was forever seared into my memory. There was no fight. No argument. It was a conversation between two friends agreeing to dissolve a loveless marriage. Neither of us were upset about it. We still had dinner together that night. We still went to sleep in the same bed. The next morning we had coffee together, even joked that the hardest part about separating was going to be not seeing each other every day. Who does that? What two people who had been married for seven years can just mutually decide to divorce and it be okay? There were no tears on either of our parts. No second-guessing. We both knew it was going to shock our families more than anything because there had never been any outward problems.

  The papers were drawn up, and she’d signed them. Then, during a checkup, she’d been told the cancer had returned. She’d still wanted the divorce, but I’d refused to give her one until she got better. I’d been
ready to support my best friend again. I knew the toll it had taken the first time around and I wouldn’t let her go through it alone. That was when we’d argued. When the tears had streamed down her cheeks. She wanted me to be free. She wanted me to leave her and go find happiness. The argument wasn’t pretty. I fought dirty, refusing to give her what she wanted. She relented but made it known she wasn’t happy. It didn’t matter to me, there was no way I was leaving my friend to go through cancer a second time without me by her side. Thick and thin, that’s what we’d promised, and, if nothing else, even if I couldn’t love her like a husband should love his wife. She’d been my friend, and I’d stayed.

  Standing there in my bedroom I was pondering where I’d gone wrong for a very different reason. I didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes with Mercy. Wasn’t that a kick in the ass? Trying to puzzle out my relationship with Kayla so I wouldn’t lose the woman I loved. I hadn’t meant to fall in love. I hadn’t meant to fall into her bed, or her arms, or her heart. I’d wanted to live out the rest of my days in misery but, instead, I found Mercy. She’d pulled me in and short circuited my brain. There was nothing I could’ve done to stop my heart from beating again. My lungs had filled with air, and she’d made me breathe, truly breathe.

  If Kayla hadn’t died, would she have already found someone to love who’d love her back? Would she be happy for me? Had she really meant what she told me as she died in my arms? Did she want me to move on and be happy? I’d asked myself a thousand times why she’d been taken. Why her? She was so young and full of life. Even if it was in a shy, quiet kind of way. She was so sweet and compassionate. Soft and gentle. Too good to die. Too young to be taken. Even if she was leaving me, she still had time to find true love. She should’ve had time. Fuck! I hated cancer.

  Putting everything back in the box, which would sit on a shelf, never providing me with the answers I wanted. But I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it.

  I had to get the hell out of this house. Maybe it was time I sold it. I didn’t need all this space. Hell, I hadn’t needed it when Kayla was alive. We’d known we’d never have kids. Something I hated myself for struggling with. I wanted kids, but, after chemo and radiation, Kayla could no longer conceive. It took me longer than it should’ve to come to terms with not having children.

  I changed my clothes, headed out to my car, and pulled away from the house that was nothing more than a bad memory. I needed to get back to Mercy. I needed to see her. This need deep in my chest had nothing to do with the physical and everything to do with her presence. Just being around her made everything better.

  I turned off the ignition, pulled my keys free, and stared at the dangling pieces of metal. Before I’d left, Mercy had slipped her house key on the ring. My heart had pounded then and was now when I thought about the nonchalance of the action. She hadn’t made a big deal out of it, simply slid the key on the ring and told me to use it. My mind spun at the meaning. She gave me a key and I was taking her to meet my family. It was too fast, but I couldn’t get myself to care. I was living, breathing, and nothing was going to make me slow down. I wanted Mercy and I could no longer find a reason why I shouldn’t have her. All of her.

  18

  “Whenever you want to leave, we’ll go,” Jason offered from the driver’s seat.

  He was nervous enough for both of us. The closer we got, the faster his thumb drummed on the steering wheel. I was trying not to take it personally. It wasn’t bringing me home that had him on edge. It was the evening in general. Him bringing someone new home, seeing his parents and his sisters after he’d put so much distance between them. He had to fix it.

  In between the most incredible bouts of the best sex I’d ever had, Jason had told me stories about growing up. He was close to his entire family. Or he had been, before Kayla died. I knew Jasper Walker was not his biological dad, but had adopted him when his mom, Emily, married Jasper. There was a story there, and he said he’d share it later. When we talked about his family his face lit up. He missed them. And not just his immediate family, but all of the men he’d grown up with as honorary uncles and their families. There were a lot of them, and I’d had to ask him to repeat some of the names. I’d known that Delaney and Carter Lenox had some distant crazy love affair going on, but I hadn’t known Carter had a younger brother, Ethan, who had a daughter. The child was conceived when he was sixteen and still in high school. I was impressed when Jason told me how Ethan had refused to give Carson up for adoption and had raised her alone. He got married not too long ago to a woman named Honor. From the story Jason told, she was perfect for both father and daughter.

  He’d also told me about some of the barbeques they’d had over the years. There were eighteen of them who’d grown up together, not including Nick Clark’s wife, Meadow, or Honor and Carson. That was a lot of people. A lot of family. I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like growing up surrounded by so much love. And they did love each other. Anytime there was a problem, the family rallied as a whole to fix it. Until Jason needed them and he’d pushed them away. On one hand I understood, on the other I was annoyed. I would’ve given anything to have family around after PJ had died. And especially after my dad had. But I’d had no one. Well, I’d had Tuesday, she’d been there for me. But no family, no aunts or uncles, no cousins, no siblings to pull together and overcome the tragedy together. Nope. It was me, myself, and I.

  “Jason, I’ll be fine. Will you be?”

  “My parents are going to love you. My sisters are going to talk your ear off.”

  “Then what are you worried about?”

  “I’m afraid to see the hurt in my mom’s face.”

  I’d never asked how close Emily and Kayla had been. I’d assumed close, but I never imagined she’s be hurt by seeing Jason with me. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

  “Because of me?”

  “Hell, no. Because of me. I’ve hurt her. I pulled her family apart.”

  “Then fix it.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  “No, it’s not. She loves you. By the stories you’ve told me they all do. They’re hurting because you are. All she wants is for you to reach out and talk to her.”

  “I can’t. She’s upset now, but if I told her all the fucked-up shit going through my head, she’d be devastated. That’s why I pulled away. I didn’t want my misery bleeding into their lives.”

  He pulled up to the curb in front of a beautiful home and cut the engine.

  “It bled into their lives whether you wanted it to or not. We’ll leave when you need to leave. Don’t worry about me. I promise I’ll be fine.”

  I hoped that was the truth. I’d never done the meet-the-parents thing. How bad could it be? Have dinner with a group of strangers and hope they liked me. I’d just keep my mouth shut so I didn’t blurt out whatever came to mind. Should be a piece of cake. Not. I was a little nervous, a lot more than I was letting on. If Jason’s family didn’t like me, I had a feeling they’d have no problem telling him, then we’d be done. I didn’t want to lose what we’d started.

  “Thanks.” He tagged me around the back of my neck and pulled me over the center console, meeting me halfway. “I hope you know how much you mean to me. How you just sitting next to me makes everything better, easier. My lungs fill with air and my heart beats. There’s something about you that calls to every part of me. I want this, Mercy, what we’ve started, how I feel when I’m with you. I love going to sleep next to you and waking up with you wrapped around me. I’m in so deep I’m scared shitless. I need to know you’re with me. That you want this just as badly as I do.”

  Oh my gawd, he was killing me. How could he say all of that to me in front of his parents’ house seconds before I was going in to meet them for the first time? Now all I was thinking about was going home and throwing myself at him and showing him how much his words meant to me. But that couldn’t happen, not yet.

  “I’m with you, Jason.” His hand flexed on my neck, and I continued, “I
want this, too, more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my whole life. I’m not going anywhere.”

  His lips touched mine, but instead of deepening the kiss, he placed gentle kisses over my cheek stopping at my ear. “I love you, Mercy James, so damn much.”

  “I love you, Jason Walker,” I whispered back. “Now take me in the house before we have a teenage-style make-out session in your car in front of the house you grew up in.”

  “That’d be a first. Never made out in my car at my curb before.”

  “Never?” I scrunched my nose, not believing him. Every teenager had participated in a good old steam-up-the-windows drop-off.

  “Never in front of my own house.” He chuckled.

  I pushed him back and couldn’t stop myself from returning his smile. “But you did in front of your dates’ houses?”

  “No. I was too afraid of getting caught by an angry dad. All goodnight kissing took place down the block from their houses.”

  “Smart.”

  “I was a smart kid.”

  We sat staring at each other for a long time. So long, I was seriously considering ditching dinner and taking him home.

  “With those blue eyes of yours, I bet you were a heartbreaker.”

  “They helped.” He smiled.

  “I’ll bet. All you had to do was bat those pretty long lashes, and the girls were more than eager to jump in a car with you.”

  “I’m more interested to know if they work on you.”

  “You know they do.”

  There was a loud knock on Jason’s window, and he closed his eyes before he sighed. “Which one is it?”

  “How should I know.” I laughed. “It’s not Delaney.”

  Jason looked over his shoulder at one of his sisters, breaking our moment. “Quinn,” he announced.