“I don’t want to push him too far, too fast,” he said in place of the kiss I usually got first thing after walking through the door.
“I understand.” I smiled as brightly as I could because I one hundred percent understood.
That didn’t stop me from hating it.
I didn’t want to monitor my behavior around Jack, and I certainly didn’t want to rein in my feelings for him. I wanted to smooth whatever ruffled Garrett’s feathers and get back to talking about Cooper-Q’s and festivals.
As morning gave way to afternoon, the kids’ attitudes disintegrated. Everything I suggested for lunch got shot down with a “gross” or an “eww” or just a look of utter disdain.
“Fine.” I held up my hands in defeat after grilled cheese and tomato soup was described as disgusting glop. “Peanut butter sandwiches it is.”
The kids ate in sullen silence, then proceeded to wreck the living room with toys. No matter how much I tried to get them to clean up after themselves, they wouldn’t listen. I felt like the babysitter I sent home all those weeks ago.
Frazzled.
Frustrated.
And ready to cry.
“At least Connor isn’t wearing condiments,” I murmured to myself as they zoomed out of the living room and down the hall, three terrible tornados of sound and destruction.
By the time Jack came home, the house was a mess and so was I.
“I’m so sorry,” I said as he took in the demolished living room. “I just…it’s like I was invisible today or something. Everything that worked last week just plain didn’t work today.” I ran a hand through my hair and stared into his eyes, looking for even a shred of reassurance.
I’d let him down and wanted to see that he understood.
Jack frowned and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Garrett! Connor! Charlotte! Living room. Now.”
The kids arrived, looking surly and sad.
“What is going on with all this?” Jack gestured at the toy explosion and glared.
Silence.
He ran both hands through his hair, sending his curls into chaos. “I can’t remember the last time I came home to the house looking this bad.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” Charlie looked from me to her father and then to the floor.
“Me too,” murmured Connor while Garrett stared straight ahead like a soldier at boot camp.
“It sounds like you guys owe Amelia the apology. Not me.” Jack put his hands on his hips and lifted his brows. His mouth tightened. His jaw pulsed. I felt as guilty as the kids, like I’d let him down. Like I’d failed everyone in the room.
Charlie’s lip wobbled. “I’m really sorry, ‘Melia.”
“Me too.” Connor’s eyes were wide and honest. “Really sorry.”
Garrett barked a one-word apology that sounded more like an invitation to war. My heart sank as he glared.
“You three work on cleaning up this mess while I talk to Amelia in private.” Jack shook his head, sucking in his lips as he led me to the front porch.
After the stress of the day, the breeze tickling the hair at my temples elicited a sigh of relief. It felt too good to be out of the house, away from the children I used to love spending hours a day with. I perched on the first step and Jack lowered himself beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his head pressed to mine. “I know how difficult they can be when they’re in that mood….”
I watched the maple tree dance in the wind and imagined my anxiety being carried away on the breeze. “Please don’t be sorry. Somehow, I think this was my fault, not theirs, and certainly not yours.”
Jack stiffened, then lifted his head. “This is not your fault. The kids…” He sighed, then licked his lips.
I turned to face him, leaning my back against the railing and letting the breeze blow my hair off my face. “You didn’t want to bring them into a relationship too soon because you were afraid they wouldn’t react well. Here we are. We brought them in, and they aren’t reacting well. If I’d been more careful about how I acted when they were around…”
I shook my head as I tried to make sense of what was happening. Jack had blurred the lines of our relationship in front of the kids as much as I did. Maybe even more.
“This isn’t the way I saw things working out. That’s true.” He sounded hesitant. Unsure. Like there was more he wanted to say but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let the words out.
My heart stuttered on its way into my stomach.
Well, damn.
Here we go, then.
Good things came with a price, and the time had come to pay up.
My inner monologue sent off a warning signal. Evie was right when she said my attitude was slipping. I needed to get that under control because I could not, I would not, fall back into the anxiety and depression that held me captive after I lost the baby.
Jack put a finger to my chin and met my eyes. “I need you to believe me when I say things are working out so much better than I thought they would.”
I let out a humorless laugh and gestured toward the house. “Garrett’s ready to kill me and the other two aren’t far behind.”
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Nothing is easy with kids. Nothing.”
“The last couple weeks have been easy.” I stared at my feet, annoyed with how petulant I sounded. What did I think was going to happen? I’d float into their lives like some kind of Mary Poppins, hand out diffuser jewelry, teach them to meditate, and we’d all live happily ever after?
Jack nodded. “They have been easy, and I’m the first to admit it’s been wonderful. But…every day they grow a little older and change a little more. Nothing is constant with them, and that’s okay.”
“I just want them to like me. I want them…” I shook my head, unsure how to organize all the thoughts. “I don’t want to mess anything up for you guys and today? Saturday? Everything I did felt like a giant mistake. My confidence is rattled. That’s all.”
“Funny. My confidence in you keeps growing stronger.” Jack shrugged. “I wasn’t looking for a relationship but you gotta believe me, Amelia. I’m really glad I found one.”
He leaned in, his lips tender. Gentle. Full of meaning.
For the first time that day, everything felt right with the world.
“We’re really good together,” he said, humor sparkling in his eyes, “no matter what Greta has to say about it.”
Jack’s statement spun in my head the entire ride home and instead of pulling into my driveway, I pulled into Greta’s. It took me a few seconds to screw up my courage to knock on that woman’s door and confront her, but after a little self-motivation, I climbed out of my car and strode to her door with a smile on my face.
I’m a good person.
I deserve to be treated with respect.
I can handle anything without letting it knock me down.
I ran through several other positive statements, then rang the bell and stepped back, waiting. The lace curtains on a window near the door yanked apart and Greta’s face appeared before the fabric fell closed again. Seconds later, the door opened, and my neighbor greeted me with a steely smile.