Resilient Love (Navy Love Series Book 3) (23 page)

J.C. told them that when we got back to Virginia, he would sign his paperwork discharging him from the Navy and would start work with Marshall. They were both proud of him and understood why we were staying in Virginia and not returning to his hometown; my career. Most people wouldn’t understand why J.C. is choosing to get out and I’m staying in. I don’t know if this is a permanent decision for me, but for now, I love my career and I’m interested to see where else it will take me. It brings comfort knowing my husband is supportive and understands my need to stay in.

I’m happy to say that they are planning a trip to Norfolk soon. Now that J.C. isn’t living in the barracks on base, they won’t have to stay in a hotel and can spend more time with him and me.

The weekend has been great; I feel as though I’ve formed a bond with Lucy that is a lot like the one I share with my mom. She’s sweet, kind, and incredibly supportive. I’m sad to see it come to an end, but I know I’ll see her and Stephen again soon.

After dinner, once we all retired to our rooms for the night, J.C. told me about the enlightening conversation with his dad at the driving range. I don’t think he knew how much of a grudge he was holding against his father.

He noticed a difference in my demeanor right away, but it wasn’t until we were alone that I confessed that I felt back to my normal self. Although it probably wasn't right, putting Maggie in her place and standing up for someone I care about deeply whom she wronged was exactly what I needed.

I truly can't wait to be around our friends again. Even though things have been fine with everyone, I haven't quite felt like I belong. It'll be nice to not have that lingering guilt hanging over my head anymore.

Our flight home was relaxing and a perfect ending to a nice weekend. Once we landed, J.C. and I stopped in for a quick dinner at Qdoba, one of our favorite restaurants, before heading home.

I texted Tegan to let her know that we’re back and there’s no longer a need for her to come by and check on Chachi and arranged for dinner one night this week.

Lying in our bed, I can’t help but think how fortunate I am. My depression from losing my baby could have led me in a completely different direction. I’ve never been a huge fan of J.C.’s persistence until he came after me.

Arriving at work a few days later, I’m called to the admin office to finish signing the last of my paperwork. I’m now officially Joanna Collins. J.C. will be elated.

He starts his new job this week with Marshall, and while I’m happy for him, I’m also kind of bummed out. First Tess left me and now J.C. Miller is still around but she’s always on deployments so I don’t get to see her too often; I need someone else around here to hang out with, make the work day go by quicker.

Halfway through the day, unable to keep my excitement to myself any longer, I call J.C. on my lunch.

“Hey Darlin’,” he answers on the first ring.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” I ask with mock sternness.

His laughter sends a slight chill through my bones. “You’re right, I probably should be. But when a beautiful woman like you calls, how can I not answer the phone?”

“Oh boy, layin’ that southern charm on thick today, aren’t ya?”

He laughs again. “I figured it might be important. What’s goin’ on?”

Without asking, I know what he’s referring to about being important—my mom. Miguel and Joseph have kept me informed about her since our return from California, but sadly, things are in a steady decline. Mom isn’t faring well anymore; she barely gets out of bed, and even if she does, she only moves down the short hallway to her recliner in the living room. She’s becoming more and more reliant on Kandice and the pain medication to help her. I fear that it won’t be long until my worst fear becomes a reality.

“Oh, no, nothing too important.” Actually saying the words ‘it’s not about Mom’ are even too hard to say. Her health has become the giant elephant in the room. “Something happened at work and I thought you might like to know about it…”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“I signed all the paperwork and everything was approved. I’m now known in the military as Joanna Collins.”

“Woo! It’s about damn time! Gah, that makes me happy, Jo. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I just wanted to call and tell you that, don’t want to keep you too long. Everything going okay at with the new job?”

He scoffs. “I feel like you’re doubting it wouldn’t go great. I really think you underestimate your husband’s mad skills.”

“Oh, so sorry,” I say teasingly.

“Just don’t let it happen again. Nah, honestly, things are great here. I’ve updated all of the company’s social media sites, reorganized all of the clientele in the computer, and now I’m working through late fees, cancellations and new recurring clients. For having no professional experience, Jeremy has kept things pretty organized.”

“Well, that’s good. At least it wasn’t walking into a nightmare, but I don’t think any of us expected it to be a mess. You know how Marsh is with his company, that’s his baby.”

“Eh, I don’t know. From the phone conversations I’ve overheard today, seems like he may have a new ‘baby’ on his hands.”

What?

“Are you joking?”

“Look, I don’t really know. So don’t expect me to get roped into the woman gossip with you and the sisters. I just overheard that term a few times today and I know he doesn’t call clients ‘baby’.”

I glance at the time on my watch. “Well, I better get back to work. I’ll see you when I get home.”

“Okay, love you.”

“Love you, too.”

We end the call and I immediately begin wondering how Marshall and the mysterious Preston worked through their issues after our night at the bar. I haven’t talked to Marsh since that night; he seems to be keeping some distance lately. I just hope he knows I’m here if he needs to talk to about anything pertaining to Preston.

I’m still really shocked none of us have met him yet, or caught Marsh in a cover up over him.

Just as I’m walking back into work, my phone vibrates in my hand.

Miguel.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Jo, you need to get home. It’s time.”

My heart stops and my stomach drops.

It’s time.

“Okay,” I say quietly. “I’m at work so I’ll talk with my chief now; catch a flight tonight or tomorrow.”

“Alright, let me know and I’ll pick you up from the airport.”

Miguel’s voice is thick, he’s trying to be strong, but I can tell having this conversation is just as hard for him as it is for me.

“I love you. Give her a kiss for me and tell her to stay strong until I get there, okay?”

“I will. Love you, too.” I hear the damn he’s constructed burst and the tears begin to fall.

I end the phone call with the sound of his sobs in my ear. It’s the last thing I need to hear now while I’m at work. Miguel has always been the strongest of us kids. For something to break him down, I know it’s serious. I know I need to get home.

J.C.

At two o’clock, Marsh comes into the office telling me to take a hike for the day. I had a lot more stuff I could’ve worked on, but something about the way he was acting makes me think he was in a hurry to get rid of me.

My theory is that ‘baby’ may have had something to do with me gettin’ the boot early this afternoon. Marsh was on the phone with him all damn day and I know, not that I’ll repeat it to anyone, that I overheard Marshall making plans for this evening with ‘baby’.

Oh well, it’s a beautiful summer day, the weather is perfect for taking Jo down to the oceanfront, relaxing on the beach then grabbing some dinner down on the boardwalk later before we head home.

Maybe we can do Doughboys California Pizza tonight; it’s a local franchise on the oceanfront. One that I’ve been in love with since I first discovered it four years ago. I’m sure Jo won’t argue with my choice, she’s been there plenty of times with me through the years after our trips to the beach.

I slide my truck into a parking spot and notice that Jo’s car is in the one next to mine.

That’s odd, she should still be at work for at least another hour.

I’m expecting to walk into the normal scene when she’s home; you know, that damn pipsqueak dog of hers going nuts, the TV on, Jo vegging out on the couch, possibly with some sort of snack, usually a baked good, in her hand. Instead, I walk into a silent apartment. No sign of Jo or Chachi, the TV off and living room spotless.

Immediately I’m on alert; something isn’t right. My plans for the afternoon at the waterfront are promptly cancelled. Whatever is going on, I know Jo needs me.

I move through the house looking for her, but ultimately know where she is—tucked away in our bedroom. After clearing the kitchen and spare room, I walk up to our closed bedroom door and can hear the faint sounds of crying from the outside.

I instantly know what this has to be about; her mom. Taking a deep breath, I turn the knob and push the door open. The sight before me damn near breaks me.

Jo is lying in the fetal position with her face hidden in a pillow, sobbing. Chachi is curled up next to her stomach, his head resting against her knees. Trying to comfort her in his own canine way. The room matches the somber mood with the curtains drawn in, making it look much darker than what it really is outside.

My heart breaks for Jo; she looks so fragile and broken. In a flash of pain, I realize this is what she went through when she miscarried and feeling alone. I can’t imagine how hard either of these experiences must be to go through.

I walk to my side of the bed and lie down facing her, scooting as close to her body as I can get. I put an arm on her back and start rubbing in circular motions.

Being at a loss for words, and not a hundred percent sure what it is that’s happened, I simply comfort her.

“It’s just not fair,” she chokes out after a few minutes. “Why her?” She pulls the front of my shirt trying to seek comfort anyway she can.

With those words, I know what’s happened. I can’t even begin to understand what it would feel like to lose my mom and we aren’t nearly as close as Jo and Pat.

“I know, Darlin’, I know. I hate this.” I wrap my arms around her and tuck her into my chest, hoping like hell I can protect her from this pain. She continues to sob while I gently rub her hair and back, desperately praying for help to get us both through this in one piece.

Jo finally falls asleep in my arms after crying for what seemed like forever. I feel so helpless that I can’t do anything except hold her. There’s a carnal need inside me to be productive; to fix this or make it easier in any way, shape, or form.

I carefully slide out of Jo’s grip and make my way into the kitchen to find my phone that was quickly discarded when I got home. I contemplate a text, but don’t believe this is a situation that should be discussed through messages.

Scrolling through, I find Miguel’s name rather quickly. He and I have stayed in contact since we came home from California. What started off as informative texts about Pat has now blossomed into a friendship. We’ve texted a few times regarding sports, work, and other daily life things. This is the first time since we exchanged numbers that I’m dreading making contact.

“Hello?” His voice sounds raspy. He was either sleeping or crying.

“Hey, Miguel.”

“Oh, hey J.C. What’s going on man? Jo tell you what’s happening?” I can hear him moving through wherever he is.

“No, that’s why I was calling. I came home to her curled up in a ball, crying her eyes out. What the hell is going on?”

“Fuck, I’m sorry man. I meant to text you after I talked to her, just got caught up with everything else. Mom isn’t doing good. She now has a hospice nurse here all the time and she pretty much only sleeps. When she is awake, she’s so doped up on the pain meds that she’s loony.” He takes a deep breath, releasing it before continuing. “Her nurses think it will be a matter of days before she goes. I told Jo she needed to get out here, as soon as possible.”

The awareness of what he’s saying hits like a freight train; Pat’s dying. Within a matter of days, my wife will lose her mother.

“You there man?” Miguel’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry. Uh, okay, I’ll figure out a flight and all that now. We’ll be there tomorrow, somehow, someway.”

We hang up and I call Tegan. She’ll let everyone know what’s happening and can take care of Chachi for the weekend for us.

Of course, she answers after two rings.

“Hey, Bug. What’s goin’ on?”

“Hey, J.C.” I can hear Reed mouthin’ off in the background as soon as my name leaves her lips. It’s become a joke that I typically love to jab at; he acts offended that his girl loves me and my southern accent more than him. But I don’t have time for that now.

“I need a favor.” Tegan must realize the seriousness of this call, because she tells Reed to shut up when he pursues his joking.

“What do you need?” I can hear the phone moving and then that echoing sound telling me she’s put me on speaker.

It works, that means Reed will hear what’s going on, too, so I won’t have to repeat myself to another person. I still have to call Tess and Hunter, and Marshall as well.