Authors: Lori H. Leger,Kimberly Killion
Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women
“Oh, honey! There’s no way of knowing that.”
“But I do know,” he heard Giselle say, her voice lifeless and void of feeling. “Jackson let us out and Toby’s dead. This may have happened because of him.”
Jackson’s heart plummeted to his toes. Miserable and unable to face anyone, he backed silently out of the room, and then caught the elevator to the lobby. He walked outside to his truck and pulled out his cell phone to call Carrie.
“Hey, I wanted to tell you that I found her doctor. She’ll be in her room to discuss her release within a few minutes.”
“Okay, but where are you?” she asked him.
“I’m in my truck. I’m leaving.”
“Why didn’t you say goodbye?”
He paused for a moment. “I don’t think she wants to see me. She really does hate me more today than she did yesterday.” He waited through her prolonged pause then sighed. “I heard what she said.”
“She didn’t mean that,” she said.
He wiped roughly at his eyes. “That’s not how it sounded.”
“Jack...”
“I’ll talk to you later,” he said, before disconnecting.
Jackson sat in his truck, wondering what in hell he had done to make things go so wrong so quickly. He felt stranded, as though there was no place he could go. He didn’t want to go home, now that he remembered how it echoed with emptiness this morning. He couldn’t face it yet, not until there was at least the prospect of having furniture again. He opened his phone and redialed Carrie’s number.
“Hey,” she answered.
“I need some help.”
“Anything,” Carrie whispered.
“Where can I buy furniture on a Sunday?” He listened as her quiet chuckle came to him over the phone.
“And here I thought you’d be suicidal.”
“I would be if I had to go home to that tile covered mausoleum.”
“I’m assuming you need a warehouse that has everything you want in stock. Are you looking for a particular style of furniture?”
“Hell, I don’t know,” he growled.
“Just go to that place on Highway 90 down the street from the office. I know they’re open on Sundays. They have a huge selection of high quality furniture and dozens of displays set up. You should find something you like there.”
“Thanks, Carr, I knew you could help me out.”
Jackson drove to the place, walked inside and got the immediate attention of a pretty, long-legged brunette.
“Is there something I can help you with today?” she purred, as she sidled up to him.
Jackson ignored the look of obvious attraction from the woman. He was used to ignoring women, having a wife like Chloe. If he’d shown the slightest bit of interest she’d have had his balls for breakfast. Jackson pointed at her and asked in a serious tone. “Do you work on commission?”
She halted in her tracks and nodded. “Why, yes I do.”
“That’s good, because I’ll be paying in full for a house full of furniture and I need guaranteed delivery and set up today. I’m willing to pay whatever it cost since it’s Sunday. Now, you tell me...Can you help me...or not?”
She raised one finger and lifted her phone to her ear. “Why don’t you start looking around while I secure the delivery men. My name is Brenda and I’ll be with you in one minute.”
Jackson didn’t know a thing about decorating, but he knew what he liked. As a result, he’d taken the practical approach and checked out each display. If he found one that looked tasteful but comfortable, he delighted Brenda with four simple words. “I’ll take it all.”
All
had included tables, end tables, lamps, and any accessories used for display purposes. It took one hour and a sizeable amount from his checking account, but he didn’t care. Jackson walked out of the furniture warehouse with Brenda’s card tucked inside his pocket and a promise for delivery by four p.m. Rather than going home to wait, he drove to his office and worked until nearly four.
By seven o’clock that evening, the deliverymen were gone and Jackson was testing out his new king size bed. It was massive, in rich, dark woods; masculine, without being overbearing, and
long
enough to fit all 6’4” of him.
He walked into his living room and surveyed his new furniture appreciatively. The sofa was of fine grained, soft as silk, Italian leather, distressed and slightly worn in all the right places, giving it a broken-in appearance. He stretched himself out on it, and again, appreciated the fact that it was long enough to accommodate the entire length of him. He also purchased two matching leather club chairs and an oversized chaise lounge chair, upholstered in a russet textured fabric.
The shopping trip had been worth every penny spent. After a decade of living in this house with Chloe’s horrible choices in furnishings, he was finally comfortable in his own home.
Jackson went into his bathroom and showered. He walked back into the living room with droplets of water still shimmering in his hair and reached for his television remote.
When his phone rang, he looked at the caller ID and answered. “Hey Carrie, how is she?”
“
Released and home. The doctor came in right after you left. Apparently, you made enough of an impression on her that she rushed to do your bidding. Must be that fantastically fit body of yours and those big blue eyes. I swear she kept looking for you the entire time she was in the room with us.”
“
Your ass...So how is she?”
“
Better now that she’s with her girls. You were right, it made all the difference.”
“
Have they been told?”
“
Yes, I brought her home first to get her settled, then brought the girls to her.”
Jackson heard her pause and squeezed his eyes shut. Knowing how Toby felt about his daughters, he knew it was bad. He didn’t press her, but waited until she was ready to talk.
“
Those poor babies,” she said, sobbing quietly into the phone. “Mackenzie will be seven soon and she understands. Lexie is only four, almost five. I’m not sure if she realizes how...permanent this is.”
“
Believe me, if she doesn’t understand everything right now, she will soon. That’s the age I was when I lost both my parents.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Toby’s girls...” he murmured. “Man, I’d give anything to have him alive and well.” He heard Carrie sniff and pause before she answered.
“
I know you would. He thought the world of you, you know. He was always trying to get Giselle to forgive you.”
“
No chance of that, now, is there?” he said dejectedly.
“
I’m going to have a talk with her about that.”
“
Don’t upset her, Carrie. She’s been through enough.”
“
So have you. I won’t let her hold that against you.”
He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “God, I’m tired, Carrie.”
“
Get some sleep, Jackson.”
He considered whether or not to let her in on Chloe’s secret. Finally he spoke, his voice coming out in a tortured whisper. “She was pregnant, Carrie. Chloe was pregnant. I found a letter from her doctor. And then...” he swallowed the disgust he felt for his dead wife. “She had an appointment for an abortion yesterday in Beaumont.”
“
I don’t understand. If she was on the pill...”
“
She took two rounds of antibiotics last month. It must have weakened the effectiveness of the pills,” he explained.
“
I’m sorry, Jackson. I know how badly you wanted a child.”
There was an extended pause before Jackson began to speak again. “The thing is, I thought she was bi-polar all these years...manic depressive...chemically unbalanced...call it what you will, but I thought she couldn’t help the way she acted, you know? She was adamant about not taking any medication as long as there was a chance she could get pregnant.” He stood and began pacing with the phone.
“
This may sound crazy to everyone else, but I thought if she could make that sacrifice for
us
, I was obligated to stay with her. I kept thinking if we could just have a child, she could get the treatment she needed and be normal.” He burst into hysterical laughter. “Now, I find out it was all an act.”
“
What the hell are you talking about? What act?”
He thought about the letter tucked inside his wallet. “It was all an act, Carrie. She explained it all in her letter.”
“
I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but I sure would like to read that letter.”
“
Maybe one day,” he said. “Not now, though. There are things in it that are...too...personal.”
“
I’m sorry, Jackson. I know you have your reasons, so I won’t ask again. I uh...” She took a deep breath. “I called to tell you about the funeral arrangements.” She gave him the time and location of the funeral home in Kenton.
“
She won’t want me there,” he said.
“
I think you should be there.”
“
I don’t want to upset her.”
“
You need to go. She’ll hold it against you.”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “She may hold it against me if I do.” He heard her sigh in frustration. “All right, I’ll go.”
“
I knew you’d see reason. Now get some damn rest.”
“
Aye aye, Captain,” he said, with a snort.
“
Don’t make me go over there, smart a—”
“—
Good night, Carrie.” He disconnected and dropped the phone on the floor.
<><><>
Jackson was laid back on his new couch, trying to concentrate on a ball game, when he heard the knock on his door. Suspecting it was his uncle, he rolled his aching body off the couch and limped over to open the door to let him inside. He stood tall, and nodded at Bill. “I knew she wouldn’t let up on me that easily.” He turned back toward the couch.
“
Who?”
“
You know who...Carrie.” Jackson resumed his seat in front of the ballgame. “She asked you to check up on me, didn’t she?”
Bill shrugged and pulled a cold, six-pack of long neck beers from a bag. He held one out to Jackson and put the rest in his fridge.
Jackson twisted the cap open and took a long swig of the ice cold brew. “That’s good,” he said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
Bill stood staring at the results of Jackson’s furniture shopping spree. “Damn, you’ve been busy, haven’t you, Son?”
Jackson nodded, keeping his eyes on the television screen.
“
What brought this on?”
“
Don’t try to act like Carrie hasn’t told you all about it. I know her better than that,” Jackson huffed.
“
All right, I won’t. So, you erased all traces of Chloe.”
“
That was the plan,” Jackson said, lifting his beer again.
“
Well, I can’t say as I blame you. The place looks a lot better than before. I don’t know how you lived in this place.”
“
I didn’t. I only existed here, but not anymore.”
“
It seems like you should be grieving a little,” Bill said.
“
I am grieving, just not over
her.
Never again over her.”
Bill sat in a club chair and sighed in appreciation. “Nice chair. I know what you overheard at the hospital.”
“
Never doubted it,” Jackson snapped. “Carrie would never pass up an opportunity to discuss me with you.”
Bill leaned forward in his chair. “I’m going to say this one time. Carrie cares about you as much as I do, so maybe you could show some appreciation. I raised you better than that.”
Jackson sighed and swung his long legs over the edge of the soft leather into a seating position. He stood slowly and faced his uncle. “You did, and I do appreciate both of you. But, I’m hurting as much over losing Toby as a friend as I am about anything else. I keep thinking I’m going to call him and see what he thinks about this, but I can’t. It’s hard to accept.” He grabbed the back of his head with one hand. “And if I’m hurting this bad,” he said, his voice hitching, “I just keep thinking how hard it’s going to be on Giselle and the girls.”
“
Are you going to the funeral home tomorrow morning?”
He gave his uncle a look that asked if he was serious. “If I don’t, Carrie will send over the National freaking Guard.”
Bill chuckled and agreed. “You mind if I go with you?”
Jackson watched him, curiously. “You don’t know them.”
“
I’d like to go as a show of respect. I know how you felt about Toby,” Bill replied.