And that says something about me that I don’t quite know what to do with.
“I tried so hard not to be this woman,” I finally whisper to Hannah. “I tried so hard to move on and stick to the promise I made to Jesse, but the truth is I never really gave up hope that someday something would change.
“It hurts so freaking bad knowing that I could have had it all. That I could have given Jett the life he deserves under one roof and in one town, with two parents in his life every single day.
“And I could have had Jesse, too. As my partner in all things.” I push a trembling hand back through my hair. “Lane may have kept the letter from me, but I held back a part of myself from him. A part of me that’s always belonged to Jesse. And I didn’t realize how big of a part it actually was until now.”
Hannah’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. “You’re talking like the opportunity has passed,” she says quietly, squeezing my hand.
“It’s been four years,” I say again, shaking my head. “As far as Jesse’s concerned, I read the letter and made my choice.”
“So, tell him the truth.”
I laugh and glance away. “And risk losing what we have right now? Not a chance. I can’t do this without him.”
“You won’t lose anything if he still feels the same.”
“And I will lose everything if he doesn’t.”
“Not telling him how you felt about him is what got you into this mess.”
I look back to her just as she smiles softly.
“Maybe telling him will finally get you out of it.”
JESSE
“Daddy, I can write my name!” Jett announces from the table when I stroll into my mom’s kitchen after work on Friday. She’s at the stove whipping up something like she usually is and grinning like a proud grandma.
“He’s been working hard for over an hour now,” she says, as I head over to him. “His persistence is something else, that’s for sure.”
“Really, buddy? Let me see.” I ruffle his hair and lean down to inspect the half dozen or so sheets of paper spread out in front of him. Lots of Js, Es, an Ts, and even a few other letters of the alphabet, too. “Wow, little man. This is impressive. Look at those Js!”
“They’re like fishing hooks without the stabby part!” He beams, and I laugh.
“Huh, you’re right! Wow, I didn’t know that.” God, he’s cute. “What’s this here?” I pick up another sheet and point to an F. “I don’t think I know what this letter is. Do you?”
“It’s an F, Dad.” He rolls his eyes. “F for Foss. See, F-O-S-S?”
“Wait.” I gape at him. “You mean to tell me you can write and spell your last name, too?”
“Um, yeah, I’m four now. Pretty soon I’m going to preschool.”
“How in the heck could I forget?” I attack him with tickles and scoop him up off of the chair for a hug he can’t seem to get out of fast enough. When the heck did he start hating hugs so much? Damn kid is going to break my heart.
“I’m busy, Dad!” He giggles and squirms away, going right back to work, meticulously drawing his lines and curves with laser-tight focus.
“Told you,” Ma adds, as I come around to give her a quick kiss.
“He must get it from Hayden, because God knows I don’t have patience like that. Thanks for having him again today. Things went okay?”
“Perfect. He helped me with my flower beds, then we watched Paw Patrol and even took a little nap. It was heaven. I could get used to having him around like this.”
Yeah, me, too. I’ve been thinking about asking Hayden if we could revisit longer stays during the summer and on the holidays since he’s older now. Technically, the extended visits are written into our custody agreement, but I’ve never pushed for them, knowing how hard they’d be on him. These days, he’s rolling with the visits like a champ. And, frankly, I just want to see him more.
“Oh, by the way,” Ma speaks up. “I’m not cooking dinner tonight. Hope it’s not too inconvenient, but your dad mentioned something about a fish fry and I made the executive decision that we’re going out instead.”
“Ma, you’ve been cooking for us on Friday nights for years now. It’s about time you took a night off. We’ll grab pizza or something. No big deal.” I shrug and lift my chin toward the pot she’s standing over. “But if that’s not dinner, what is it?”
“The sauce for the golabki we’re having Sunday.”
“For the p-a-r-t-y?” She nods. “Ma, seriously.” I could kiss her and smack her at the same time. “I told you I’d make stuff on the grill.”
She lifts a shoulder, making her silver curls bounce. “I’d be cooking Sunday lunch anyway, so I figured why not?”
“You’re too much.”
“Your father’s been telling me that for years. Hasn’t stopped me yet.” She winks and then sets the big spoon aside. “Amelia was here earlier. She said a few applications have come through for the office position.”
“Yeah, she mentioned that to me, too. I’ll look them over this weekend.”
“One of them was Mikayla Kaminski.” And the words ‘Don’t even think about it’ go unsaid.
Lucky for my mother, I would never hire Mikayla. Not because Ma doesn’t approve, but things might get complicated if we start seeing more of each other.
“She’s not that bad, Ma. I know you’ve got a beef with her, but she’s actually a pretty nice girl.”
“Nice girls don’t grope my boys in church.”
“I’m sure worse has happened at that church, Ma. All those rooms in that basement...”
Her eyes widen and her lips part.
“I don’t know from personal experience, I’m just saying.” Jinx, on the other hand...
“I’d prefer not to think about any of those scenarios, thank you very much. And as far as our beef, I know for a fact she stole that pie recipe from Mrs. Janikowski. And she used store-bought apple butter in the filling, too. Who does that?”
Oh, the debauchery. “Hey, at least she cooks.”
Ma flinches. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
“I might take her out sometime.” I mean, I did imply that when I called after the whole stepping stone thing at Hayden’s. But that was before Hayden started throwing off serious trouble in paradise vibes.
“Oh, Lord Jesus...” Ma closes her eyes and waves her hand up and down and across her chest in a dramatic sign of the cross.
“Come on.” I laugh. “Give her a chance.”
“You say that like you’ve already made up your mind. There’s no ‘might’ about it, is there?”
“I don’t want to be single forever.” And that’s the first time I’ve ever admitted that outside of my own head.
“Oh, baby...” She comes at me, her hands cradling my face like I’m a kid again. “You’ve got lots of time.”
“That’s not what you said a few months back, when you were complaining about only having one grandkid.” Sure, the comment was meant for all of us kids, but I think it hit home for me the most. I don’t want Jett to grow up alone. I want him to have a bunch of siblings like I do. A big family to hang out with on holidays. People who have his back no matter what.