Learning to Heal (3 page)

I look up and see everyone’s eyes on me confirming it’s show time. I swallow back down the bile that continuously erodes my esophagus these days and put down the shredded napkin that’s in front of me.

“Well, I guess it’s my turn.” I glance around the table and see Tru’s nervous smile, but I can’t return it right now. “I’m also thankful for Tru and a wonderful family …” I feel my stomach starting to churn as I look at Jax. “...which will have a new member in June, because I’m pregnant.” Thank God that’s over. “Now let’s eat.” I pick up my fork and start to eat even though food is the last thing on my mind. Twelve pairs of eyes burn a hole in my body, but I continue to shove tasteless forkfuls in my mouth. I swear I’m about to be engulfed by flames and have a heart attack.

“What did you just say, young lady?” Taking a deep breath, I look up from my very interesting plate toward my very pissed off dad.

I give him my sweetest smile. “That you’re going to be the sexiest grandpa ever.” My voice shakes and my smile falters because his eyes are still hard. I was expecting this reaction from Jax but not daddy.

Hearing a noise, I glance over and see Jax standing, angrily staring in my direction as he leans over the large table and braces his hands flat on the tablecloth-covered surface. Tru just looks at me with pained eyes as I look to her for help. She quickly turns away and I know she’s not going to offer any.

Jax moves toward me with his brown eyes narrowed. “Who?” His voice is deep with fury. I’ve never heard him like this so I’m speechless. When I don’t answer, he asks me again—louder this time—and bangs his fist on the table. “Who, Jazz?” The china clatters and I jump. Trying to act unaffected, I shrug my shoulders and look around the table, desperate for an ally. Mom has one hand covering her mouth so I only see her heartrending eyes. David looks pissed with a red tint in his tanned face and ice cold blue eyes. He’s like a brother and I’ve known him since I was fifteen, but he’s also a sex-craved manwhore. I avoid my dad’s stare, knowing I’ll only see disappointment there. Turning to the person who has become a good friend, and the one person who can make me smile, I glance at Mason.

He’s staring at me with so much confusion and hurt I try to lighten his mood by giving him a small smile. He doesn’t return it like I was hoping, though. I suddenly feel alone and unwelcome in the house where I grew up.

I return my eyes to my brother, “Nobody. Just a guy I’ve been seeing.”

I hear a chair slide back from the table, and I look to see Tru’s back as she leaves the room. Jax tears his eyes from me and looks like he’s debating on following her or staying. He glances at me once more. “I want a name. And I want it now.”

Before I can tell him it doesn’t matter because he’s not going to be around, I feel Mason’s strong, warm hand slide gingerly into mine and squeeze. His support is just what I need to get through the rest of the day, so I hold on tightly and glance his way. I hope my eyes say how much I appreciate his friendship.

He turns toward Jax and says the last thing I would ever expect. “It’s mine. I’m the father.” My stomach hits my feet and I’m speechless.
What. The. Fuck.
 

Before I can find my tongue all hell breaks loose. Jax is across the table and Mason’s on the floor under my brother’s fist. Mason’s little sister Grace, who’s autistic and sitting beside him, starts screaming from the commotion. I try to run toward her but Mom’s there before I can climb over the bodies rolling around on the dining room floor. Somehow Mason pushes Jax off, so I step between them as he slowly gets off the floor. Thankfully David’s arms are already around Jax to stop him from charging again while he cusses up a storm. I notice Cohen and Kenzie under the archway that separates the kitchen. Kenzie looks like she’s in shock while Co looks ready to join in.

“Everybody calm down right now.” Mom holds Grace and rubs her back. She looks pointedly at everyone while trying to gain their attention. However, the hostility is so thick a chain saw probably couldn’t sever it.

Mason surprises me by facing Jax with a determined look on his face. Dad gets in his line of vision, though, and looks between Mason and me before putting his attention on my brother. He speaks with authority that leaves no room for argument. “Go check on Trudy.” He turns back toward us. “You two, in my office.”

I watch Jax shake off David’s hold before he stomps toward the same direction Tru went. Mason turns and goes to Grace who jumps in his arms as she cries harder from the sight of his busted lip. He looks at my dad without fear or indecision from what he just did. “Sir, can you give me a minute with my sister. I promise, I’ll be there, I just need to make sure she’s okay.”

My dad nods and looks at my mom. After she goes to his side, he pulls her into an embrace before they walk out of the room. Cohen and McKenzie quickly follow, while Drew just shakes his head and walks out in a different direction.

I glance toward Mason, ready to yell at him because of what he did, but my dad bellows, grabbing my attention. “Jasmine Marie Coleman. I mean now.”

I turn and see David sitting at the table, eating, with a smirk plastered on his face like Thanksgiving wasn’t blown all to Hell and back. I give him the finger because I feel like it. This only causes him to laugh harder of course.

Rolling my eyes, I make my way down the hall and up the stairs with bluster that is totally bogus. In all actuality, I’m really so terrified of what’s to come that my heart vibrates my chest. I take a deep breath and start to rationalize with how ridiculous it is to be so scared. My parents love me and only want what’s best. I know that. They aren’t going to physically harm me. So, why stress? It all comes down to disappointing them, though, and that is something I hate doing, especially after everything they’ve done for me. My life would be pure shit without them … if I were even alive to experience it.

When I start to calm down, I pass Jax’s room and hear Tru’s grief stricken cries. My feet stop and the urge to go check on my best friend is so overwhelming I place my shaky hand on the doorknob. I stare at the white bedroom door wanting to make her feel better, but I don’t know how or why she’s so upset. Regardless of my confusion, the sound of her heartache causes my eyes to burn and my own tears to fall. I change my mind and keep walking, knowing my presence won’t be welcome.

I reach my dad’s office and knock on the ominous door.

“Come in.” My dad’s deep baritone voice reaches me through the wood, and I turn the handle. I say a prayer before I walk through, not sure if I’m ready to face my parents.

Once I step inside, my dad walks over and engulfs me in a hug. I let myself relax into his warmth while surrounding me with his familiar smell of Old Spice. Mom soon follows and wraps us both in her slender arms. I feel relief because they still love me. But will they after if they learn about my affair with a married man? Who already has children? We stay wrapped for a few short minutes, and when they both release me I feel bereft. Taking a breath, I go sit on dad’s favorite worn, blue couch that’s older than me and try to get comfortable. The hug was the last thing I was expecting and it brings more tears to my eyes. “I’m sorry.” Just breathing breaches the silence after my sobbing apology escapes my lips.

“How far along are you?” I glance at Dad, so glad for those words instead of him asking me to pack my bags. The man in front of me looks different than he did twenty minutes ago. Older and more tired, not disappointed like I pictured.

Guilt for causing him to age and worry over my selfish actions overtakes me, but I battle it.

“Ten weeks.” Pulling out the ultrasound that confirmed my suspicions two weeks ago, I pass it to Mom. I feel an automatic smile lift one corner of my mouth from just looking at the black and white image. I don’t know what the hell it all is besides a small lima bean-shaped blob.

“And what’s your plan?”

Shaking myself from my thoughts, I turn again and face my dad. When his question registers in my brain, I can’t help but look at him like he’s lost his flippin’ mind. “What do you mean?”

“Jasmine, have you thought about this? And I don’t mean about the baby. I mean really, really thought about this and what it means for your health?”

He sits beside me and I turn to face him. He knows all about my heart condition because he’s the one that did the second surgery on me since the first one decided to do more harm than good. I was sent in shortly after I landed in the system for having a “tet” episode where I lost oxygen and became cyanotic.

“Yes.”

It’s all I think about. Instead of speaking my fears out loud, I smile and rush to ease their worries. They need to know or at least think I have everything under control. “But I already spoke to my doctor and they made an appointment with a local specialist to follow my pregnancy.” They even have me
on watch
. If I have any issues throughout this pregnancy, they say they’ll abort my baby. If it’s up to me, though, that will never happen. I plan on taking it easy and after getting today over with, the rest should be a piece of cake. Or at least I hope so. I’ll focus on a stress free pregnancy. Maybe do yoga or something like that. Plus, I promised myself I wouldn’t worry until after a cause surfaced. Once I go to the specialist, I’ll have a better understanding of what the future holds. Besides, every case is different. I’ve done my research on women with Tetralogy of Fallot who become pregnant and the outcome is usually good. Then again, most were probably able to run outside with other kids or jump in the pool without getting lightheaded and dizzy. Those episodes haven’t happened in a while so I hope my heart problem doesn’t cause health issues for my unborn child.

I shake these dismal thoughts from my head. I have bigger fish to fry and his name starts with
M
. I plan on frying his ass until he gets some damn sense in his head.

Sitting on the dining room floor, I hold Grace in my lap while she cries. I feel like crying myself and not from the pain in my jaw, but from the news Jazz shared. Since that still hurts to think about, I’ll concentrate on my throbbing face, but my mind still does a play-by-play of the past five minutes. Well, I think it’s been five minutes. Maybe it’s been longer. I remember everything happening in slow motion after Jazz announced she was having a baby. Panic set in and my heart broke with every second that passed while I sat there waiting for her to say “just joking” or “not” in her sweet voice. However, she looked uncomfortable and nervous, so I knew it was no joke. Then I felt anger over the bastard abandoning her. No one should raise a child alone. And thinking of Jazz lonely and tired had me grabbing her hand. She has me and it’s about time she knows it.

I’ve known from the moment I saw her picture that she was out of my league. Her vibrant beauty is something only guys like David and Jax attract, not someone who likes to take apart computers or car engines just to put them together again. Studying something slowly to see how I can make it work the same way or differently is what gets my blood pumping, but seeing her caused the same effect and I knew I was in deep shit. I shouldn’t have felt any of those things, but I did ... and still do. The more I watched her, the more fascinated I was and it’s almost become an obsession. Rash decisions are not in me … or so I thought. Slow is more my speed. I like to study and calculate every possible outcome to all my actions. That way I won’t be disappointed when things don’t turn out like I thought because I anticipated every possible outcome.