Everybody Falls (31 page)

"Oh, my sweet girl," she murmured patting one of the arms I had around her neck. "Oh, Lacey, sweetie, don't cry."

She may have instructed me not to cry, but my waterworks were turned to full.

I hadn't had this with Grandma Lilly; this slowly letting go.

I'd been in Vegas. Knee deep in three jobs just trying to make ends meet in a crummy shared apartment when I had received the news from Ms. Russell that she'd passed two weeks after the fact.

This, with Edie? It was heartbreaking.

I don't know how long we sat there or how long it took me to get my crying under control.

I do know that those wise, blue eyes searched my face carefully when I pulled back, as I wiped my face with the bottom of my shirt.

"You love him, don't you?" she asked simply.

"Yeah," I admitted through the residual sniffles. "I do. Very much."

"I'm guessing you two haven't talked about these feelings?" she asked, her voice still as soft as silk.

I shook my head and put the truck in drive again, as I searched for a way to maneuver out of the small retail park.

"Well, you'll get to it," she said and patted my knee.

Is that something you learn or something you're born with? That ability to comfort others with just a simple touch combined with gracious words?

*.*.*.*.*

Jax had already done his run and did an early meeting which he thought would've seen his girls home before he returned yet the house was still empty by lunchtime. While his concern hadn't blossomed into a full scale worry, he was still on edge.

He met them as the truck slowly came to a stop and he practically dragged Lacey out of the old truck for a kiss and a hug.

"There's others around, Jackson Bennett Wynter," he heard his grandmother call, her tone peevish. "Get me out of this damn truck then you two can swap spit."

Lacey had started laughing which made him laugh as well, bundling his old gal into his arms before carrying her inside. He settled his Grams into a seat at the table while his Lace whipped up a quick lunch of canned soup and sandwiches.

There was a long meaningful glance he'd caught between his girls before Lacey cleared the table and said she would be upstairs.

Then it was, in the conversation between him and his Grams, that Jax felt his whole world, the world he'd been building so carefully and cautiously, began to fall apart.

He was crying, both on the inside and on the outside, listening to her soft words.

Heart failure.

Pulmonary edema.

Nothing could be done to prevent. Only to prolong.

He was on his knees, his face pressed into the old woman's stomach, his arms wrapped tightly, so fucking tight, around her. There had to be something they could do. Something someone, fucking
anyone
could do, to make this better. Wasn't there?

He felt her old, gnarled fingers stroke through his hair, so much like Lacey's soft touch. Offering comfort and peace. But not, even once, offering hope.

When his sobs had stopped, when his knees were starting to complain, he sat back into his chair.

"Here's what you need to know, Hot Stuff," Grams said slowly. "Dying is just a part of living. Anybody that tells you different is a liar. You gotta grab it, Jax, grab life with both hands and squeeze the ever-loving shit out of it so that when it comes your time to go you can do it with pride, with love. You get me?"

"I get you," Jax replied on a whisper, his eyes still streaming.

She let him cry and try to work it out in his own mind, in the silence of the kitchen. Her old kitchen that Pete had brought her to so many, many years ago. They would've been married fifty-nine years come December. Which was a long time in anyone's book.

"Would you move me to the recliner, Jax?" she asked in her kind, quiet voice. "I really like that old back porch with the sound of the wind and birds in the trees."

"Any…anything thing for you, Pretty," Jax stammered thickly and moved to pick her up.

"She loves you," Edie whispered into his ear as he stooped to her. "She told me so. She even said the words 'very much'. You're in like Flynn!"

He straightened with the old woman in his arms, pulling back to look at her as she spoke. "She did?"

"You better believe it! Now it's your turn. You've got to start the conversation, tell her how you feel," she continued talking as he stepped out onto the unfinished floorboards of the screened in porch. "If it comes to it, I have Grandma Stacia's ring tucked away."

He stopped two steps away from the old recliner and tipped his face down so he could meet her eyes.

"It's a really nice ring, classic and would look perfect on our Lace," she continued confidently, firmly.

"You're meddling," he growled.

"I know," she growled back, lowering her chin and trying to look fierce.

She stayed quiet, yet kept her frown as hers eyes traveled over Jax's face, his eyes wet and nose red. He had grown up to be a handsome man that had, in her opinion, just lost his way. He was finding it, though. Thank the Lord, he was finding it.

He moved again, placing her gently in the chair and helping her to shove it into a reclining position.

"I could use some iced tea and my e-reader," she suggested, deciding it was kind of nice to be waited on for once. "Then you need to see to your girl."

"Harpy," he claimed with a smile.

"Clueless," she shot back, smiling with him.

He found Lacey face down and sobbing into a pillow in the room they shared, when he'd done as his Grams had instructed in finding his girl.

The muffled sounds hit him so hard, so fucking hard, he found his knees releasing before he even reached the bed to cover her from behind, his face buried in her fragrant hair as he began to cry along with her.

She moved and he moved with her until his back was against the bed. Lace was glued to his front, her wet face burrowed into his neck, both of them holding each other tightly.

"I love you, Jack," she mumbled.

"And I love you, Lacey," he said holding her as close as he could before their cells actually fused. "Marry me."

"What?"

"Marry me, Lace. I love you, and you love me, right? I know we haven't known each other very long…" he continued.

"Not even a week," she mumbled from her place on his chest.

"Who fucking cares, Lace? A week, a month, a fucking decade. I want you, Baby. I need you with me forever," his voice firm, sure.

She raised up herself up slowly until they were sharing the gaze. The look that had always been between them, since the moment he'd turned over on his back on that dirty, black piece of asphalt. The small piece of road in front of her shop when he had looked up at her through narrowed, pain-filled eyes.

"You're mine, and I think you always have been," he whispered, his eyes captured in the frosted blues depths of hers. "Please marry me, Lace."

Her eyes searched his and he held himself still, letting her probe him hoping she'd find the heart, the very core of him, as he stared back.

"Too much, Jack," she murmured as she pushed his hair back from his face. "It's too much for me at the moment. Let me just get used to loving you first, okay?"

He smiled. Now, that he could do.

Being loved by Lace.

Goddamn loved, encompassed by the love of his Lacey.

Oh, hell, yeah. He could do that.

"The guys are coming in a few and Turner asked if he could bring Ricki," he advised quietly. He pressed his forehead up to hers, his heart back to being so full he felt like he could explode.

"Did she tell you what Dr. Lindstrom said?" she asked compassionately.

"Yeah, Baby, she did," he admitted. His forehead pressed harder. "Hurts, that."

"Oh, Jack. I know, right?" she said and he opened his eyes.

"We'll get through this, honey," she promised and he saw her eyes close. "It's just you and me and Grams. We'll work it. We'll make this last part magical for her."

"I know, Baby," he whispered, as his own eyelids closed in fervent prayer. "Me. You. Grams and magic."

They both started at the sharp two-note of the doorbell.

"Turner," she announced.

"Sarge," he said at the same time.

They were both right.

*.*.*.*.*

"Shhh," I heard Jack say as I hovered behind him in the doorway. "Grams is on the back porch sleeping."

He opened the rusty screen door and let them in, and I got a one-armed hug from both of them as they came into the room.

"Everything okay?" Sarge asked, peering at us, probably noticing the swollen eyes and red noses from earlier.

"Uhm…not so good," Jack said, glancing at me before I turned and made my way down the hall to the kitchen. And, coward that I was, I left him to it. To explain to our friends and my newly discovered Grandpop how Ms. Edie was, and how she wouldn't be for very much longer.

I was thinking of what need to be done for dinner as a distraction from my emotions. There was another pitcher of ice tea that was needed especially if we were to have guests dropping by.

And it seemed that we always had guests dropping by.

"Lacey," I heard Edie call from the back area.

I practically ran to her side, to get to her.

"Slow down, girlie," she advised with a chuckle. "Can you help me to the kitchen table?"

The walker from Boots, one of those aluminum folding kinds, worked a treat for when she was feeling strong. I thought it was great because Edie could move around under her own steam, however, I think Jack saw it as defeat.

I brought it out and got her settled behind it, watching as she pushed forward and walked the couple of steps to catch up. I called it progress when I saw her lower herself into her dining room chair, no longer puffing and wheezing when she seated herself.

"What's for dinner?" she asked, like it was something I did every day. Okay, so I'd done dinner duty the last few nights. But to turn your kitchen over to another gal at the drop of a hat? I don't think so.

"What would you like?" I countered as I moved to put the kettle on to start the tea.

"What's in the freezer?" she shot right back, feisty as ever.

"Uhm…" I said as I opened the smaller door of the tall refrigerator. "There's some chicken breasts we could defrost. Everything else is beef."

I closed the door and thought quickly.

"Stir fry? Or I could do fajitas if there's enough lard for tortillas," I said, thinking out loud.

"There's almost a full tub of Crisco on the shelf above the flour," Edie offered. "You get the stuff and I can do the tortillas. You take care of the insides and I can do the outsides, sweetie."

I glanced over at the older woman and recognized that, she may no longer have control of her kitchen, she was going to remain an integral part of it.

"That place in the middle of the stovetop?" she offered. "It makes a great griddle."

"Nice," I said, head and shoulders deep in the pantry, pulling out the stuff needed to make flour tortillas. "Can I raid the garden?"

"Plunder away, sweet girl," she said with a soft giggle.

Chapter 26

I woke up to the doorbell, bangs and shouts.

Pushing my hair out of my eyes, I reached for Jack yet his side of the bed was empty and I shoved myself upright, trying to get a handle on my post-sleep reality.

Snagging my panties and t-shirt from the floor, I stumbled out of the room and down the steep stairs, a hand on each wall instead of using the banister.

I was too tired for the banister, if you wanted to know the truth.

Last night's 'party' was awesome; the kind of awesome that left you bleary-eyed and yawning when you woke up even if the sun was showing high in the sky.

"Go away, Belinda," I heard Grams say, seeing her silhouetted in the sunshine beaming in front of her through the opened door.

Wait…what?

Mom?

Shit.

My mom was at the farmhouse front door at oh-sunshiny-thirty in the morning causing a ruckus.

Oh, hell, no.

I eased myself around Edie with a kiss on her cheek before quickly closing the screen door behind me.

I had no clue where Jack was. Running, maybe?

"What do you want?" I asked and even I could hear the chill in my voice.

"Hiding out with your betters?" my mother sneered back.

Oh, yeah. This was going to be a fun conversation.

"What do you want, Mom?" I repeated, crossing my arms, squinting in the full sun.

"You haven't been at the bakery. In fact, the sign says its closed until next week," she proclaimed, throwing out a hand.

"So? What business is it of yours?" I asked. Okay, my mind was still half-sleep and caffeine starved. But not so depleted that I wasn't confused about why she felt the bakery's opening and closing was any of her concern. Money. It all came down to money with her.