The Best of Times: A Dicken's Inn Novel (18 page)

“I’m right behind you,” she said, and they followed Melinda discreetly and at a safe distance out the door and to her car.

Chas held back a little as Melinda opened the trunk. She was lifting a suitcase when Jackson stepped beside her and said, “Let me help you with that.” He took the suitcase and set it on the ground by his feet while Melinda watched him, her mouth open, her eyes filled with disbelief, her expression revealing her realization that this man was her long-lost brother.

Jackson made eye contact with his sister, fearing she could hear the pounding of his heart. “Hi,” he said, fearing they would both stand there and freeze to death otherwise. She threw her arms around his neck and started to cry. He hesitated a moment before he returned the embrace, and then he hugged her tightly, feeling a little teary himself.

“It’s really you,” she said, taking his face into her hands. She touched his hair and chuckled. “The last time I saw you, your hair was black as coal and you were covered with pimples.”

“Well, thank you for remembering the important stuff,” he said.

“You’ve lost your accent.” She sounded astonished.

“Yours is thicker,” he said.

“Arkansas’ll do that to you,” she said as if she were proud of it.

“You look . . . exactly the same,” he said, startled by how true it was. Beyond subtle signs of aging in her face, she had the same hairstyle, same makeup, same jewelry.

“Thank you,” she said.

Sensing that it was going to get awkward, Jackson took the other suitcase out of the trunk and picked up the one at his feet. “Let me get these for you,” he said and headed for the door.

Chas held it open for him, wearing a complacent smile. “Pimples?” she whispered.

“Very funny,” he whispered back.

With the women following him up the hall, he had a moment to think, and realized he needed some time alone. He set the luggage in front of the elevator and pushed the button. “Listen,” he said to Melinda, “I know Mom’s resting, and you probably need to do the same. I know we need to talk, but there’s no point talking about things now that will just have to be repeated later. I just wanted to say hi and let you know I’m here, and . . . that I’m glad you came. We’ll talk later.”

“Okay,” she said, looking disappointed. He turned and tossed a glance toward Chas that he hoped she understood, then he took the stairs three at a time, barely getting through the door of his room before he was overcome with helpless sobbing. He cried for the lost years since he’d left home, and for the lost years before then. He cried for his horrible childhood and his adulthood that hadn’t been much better. He cried for the grief he’d caused his mother and sister. And swirled into all of that was the anger and betrayal he felt over the horrors that had happened among his coworkers.

Jackson lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to reckon with the fact that his mother was here. He didn’t have to wonder why his father wasn’t here. There were only two possibilities. He was either drunk or dead, the latter being more likely considering how much of his life he’d spent drunk. But perhaps it was time to forgive
both
of his parents.

Jackson made certain he was in the parlor at five-twenty. A few minutes later Chas came and sat beside him, holding his hand. “You okay?”

“I don’t know.” They heard the elevator bell, then distant voices, and he muttered, “Oh, help. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Would you have ever gotten on a plane and gone back to Arkansas?” she asked.

“Probably not.”

“Then it’s good they came here. This is a good thing, Jackson.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said, hoping she was right, but feeling more skeptical on that count. If Chas could see the memories of his childhood, perhaps her outlook might be a little more realistic.

The distraction of the conversation left him a little taken off guard when he looked up to see Melinda and his mother standing in the doorway. He came to his feet, grateful to have Chas standing beside him. His stomach tightened, and his heart beat hard and fast. She’d changed so much. But so had he. She looked old and frail. She only took a glance at him before she put a hand over her mouth and started to weep. Chas nudged him, and he glanced at her to see a nod of encouragement. He stepped closer to his mother, who looked up at him and took his face into her hands, just as Melinda had done. “Oh, my boy. My boy!” she cried and wrapped her arms around him.

Jackson took a deep breath, reminded himself that the past was in the past, and returned her embrace. While she clung to him and cried against his shoulder, he felt his heart softening and his embrace tightening. He glanced at Chas and Melinda and saw them both wiping tears. He felt grateful to Chas for her perspective and guidance that had allowed him to come to this moment without anger or resentment.

“It’s okay, Mom,” he said, taking hold of her shoulders to look at her. “It’s okay. I’m glad you came, and I’m so . . .” his voice broke, “I’m so sorry.”

She gave a wan smile and again took his face into her hands. “There’s something I need to say, Jackson, my boy, and I hope you’ll hear me out.”

He nodded and said, “Let’s sit down, Mom.”

“Not yet,” she said. “I’ve wanted to say this to you for more than twenty years, and I’m not waiting another minute. You hadn’t been gone long when I began to realize how dreadful it must have been for you. I understand why you left, and why you didn’t want to come back. He’s dead now, and none of us were too sorry to see him go, but I know it wasn’t just him who treated you bad. There’s no excuse for bad mothering, Jackson. I can only say that I just didn’t know what I was doing. My kids were grown and gone before I figured out that the way my mama and papa had treated me just wasn’t good enough, and I’d done it all wrong. I just need to tell you that I’m sorry.” She started to cry again. “I’m so very, very sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mama,” he said and heard himself thirty years younger in his own voice. He was amazed at how easy it was to say those words with sincerity, “It doesn’t matter anymore, Mama. It’s all in the past, and we’re together now.”

At this she lost complete control of her emotions again, and Jackson just held her and let her cry, noting that the other women were crying again as well. He shed a few tears himself before his mother quieted down enough for him to look at her and say, “Forgive me . . . for waiting so long. It wasn’t right. I can see that now.”

Melva laughed through her tears and touched the moisture on his face. “As you said, it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s all in the past.”

He noted that she seemed a little unsteady, and he insisted, “Come and sit down.” He guided her to one of the couches and sat beside her. She took his hand into hers, and the other women sat down on the other couch.

“There’s one more thing I need to say,” Melva said to her son. “I need to thank you for the money.” Jackson stole a quick glance at Chas, noting her pleasant surprise. He hadn’t really wanted her to know about that. But perhaps he needed to accept that there was no keeping secrets from Chas. “It helped more than you’ll ever know,” she added.

“I just figured it was the right thing to do,” he said and changed the subject. “How long has Dad been gone?”

“Going on twelve years now. It was liver cancer that took him.”

“Not a surprise.” He couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk to her now that the hard things had been said. “And how are you, Mom?”

“I’ve got this nasty arthritis that makes it hard to get around. It’s given me grief for years, but other than that I do okay. I live with Melinda. She takes good care of me.”

“It’s a good thing somebody does,” he said with self-recrimination, but Melva patted his hand as if to say,
We already had that conversation.

“Tell me what you’ve been doing all these years,” Melva said to Jackson. “You said you were going to join the Marines. That’s all I know.”

“I spent several years in the Marines,” he said. “Mixed in with that I got a four-year degree from a good college in New England. Now I work for the FBI.”

“Serious?” Melinda said.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Melva asked.

“Yes, I’m serious, and yes . . .” he exchanged a glance of irony with Chas, “it can be dangerous.”

“Marines?” Melva said. “FBI?” She made a concerned noise. “No wonder I’ve been so worried all these years. Were you ever hurt?”

Chas tightened her gaze on Jackson, wondering the same thing—now that it had come up.

“Clearly I’m fine,” Jackson said.

“Do you have a woman in your life?” Melinda asked with a mischievous smile.

“I do,” he said with joy in his voice, “but you’ve already met her.” He motioned toward Chas, and Melva’s eyes lit up with pleasure. Melinda just looked pleasantly surprised.

“Oh, she’s a very sweet girl,” Melva said.

“Yes, she is,” Jackson said, winking at Chas.

“You’re living here, then?” Melinda asked.

“No,” he said, “just an extended stay. I hope to . . . one day.” Chas smiled at him. “We’ll just have to see. Chas and I only met the Sunday before Thanksgiving.”

Chas broke a stretch of awkward silence. “He needed a break from his work and came for some peace and quiet.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Melva said, and Chas heard the timer from the other room.

“That’s dinner,” Chas said, coming to her feet. “Jackson, why don’t you show these ladies to the dining room and I’ll have it on in five minutes. And no,” she said as she smirked at him, “you can’t help.”

Chas left the room and peeked in on Granny to see that she was dozing, then she hurried to the kitchen to get the chicken and rice out of the oven and the salad out of the refrigerator. She was putting food out on four plates when Jackson came into the kitchen.

“Look at you,” he said, putting his hands on either side of her against the counter so she couldn’t move, “all smug and proud of yourself.” She smiled, and he chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you put that return label there on purpose.”

“I had nothing to with it, but I’m glad it happened.”

“Yes, so am I. Thank you. And don’t ask what for. Without you, it would have been a disaster.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Now let me go so I can get supper on.”

“In a minute,” he said and kissed her. Then he let her go.

Supper went well, with good food and pleasant conversation. Chas listened as they talked about people back in Arkansas, and Melva and Melinda asked lots of questions about the Marines and the FBI. Jackson was typically vague and cryptic about personal details, but great at sharing generalities that were very entertaining. Chas slipped away to take some supper to Granny now that she was awake. She came back to serve dessert, and Melva told her again how sweet she was. The conversation continued, and Chas couldn’t help but notice how happy both Melva and Melinda seemed. But remarkably, Jackson did too. She was proud of him. And happy for him. And she loved him. She wanted to be a part of this family, and wanted him to be a part of hers, as small as it was.

When Granny had finished her supper, Chas suggested that Melva come and meet her. While Melva was coming to her feet, Chas said quietly to Jackson, “Why don’t you just visit with your sister for a while. I’ll watch out for her.”

“Thank you,” he said and took her hand to kiss it.

Alone with his sister, he asked, “You still married to Lafferty?”

“I dumped that idiot years ago,” she said. “But I kept the name because my children have it. Obviously I haven’t married again. But I’m doing okay.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Tell me
how
you’re doing okay. Tell me about the kids. How many? How old are they? What are they doing?”

“One question at a time, little brother. First off, after the divorce I was waitressing and barely getting by. Then one day I thought that I should go into business for myself. I started with a room in my house and soon was able to rent a shop. It’s like that thing they say, that one man’s junk is another man’s treasure. Or woman’s, in this case. I take in things women don’t want any more and give them a little money for it, then I turn around and sell it to other women. The business is called ‘Junk and Treasure.’”

“Catchy. So, it’s working for you?”

She laughed softly. “I now have twelve shops and nearly a hundred employees.”

“Really?” He chuckled. “That’s amazing. Good for you! And I guess that answers one of my questions. I was wondering how you and Mom could afford to fly all this way and stay in a place like this.”

“A place where you can afford to stay for weeks?”

“I’ve done well enough. I’ve made some good investments, and I haven’t had anyone to spend it on.”

“Now, that’s not true. Mama was always very grateful for the money. I’ve been able to help her more since the business took off, but there were some tough years in there. The money you sent made a big difference.”

“I’m glad I was able to do it,” he said. “Do you have what you need now? Does Mom?”

“Oh, we’re great,” she said, “although I know it means a lot to Mom when she gets help from you. So don’t stop on my account. It was always the card that made her cry, but the check inside made her believe you loved her.”

“I always loved her,” he said. “I was just . . .”

“Angry?” she said. “Yeah. I’ve been to a lot of counseling to get past angry. Mom’s had some counseling too.”

“Really?”

“It’s helped us both. And since you asked about my kids, they actually turned out pretty good. Sasha is married to a nice guy. They have three kids.”

“You’re a grandma?”

“I am,” she said proudly. “Brian’s got a good job, and he joined the Reserves. You’d be proud of him. That’s it. They’re all grown, and my business is practically running itself, so I try to keep Mom busy. I’ve been getting her away on little excursions like this every month or so. Well,” she motioned toward him, “not like
this.”
She became more serious. “It’s good to see you, Jackson.”

“It’s good to see you, Melinda. I don’t mean to beat a dead dog, but I really am sorry I didn’t bridge this gap sooner.”

“Just keep in touch from now on, okay?”