Jagged (34 page)

My heart turned over again.

“Just sayin’,” Ham put in, “I’m way past nine but I quit tryin’ to do that a long time ago.”

Zander laughed.

It sounded beautiful.

So beautiful my hand shot under the table and I curled my fingers tight around Ham’s thigh.

When I did, his hand covered mine, pried my fingers away so he could wrap his fingers around mine and hold them close.

Trudy came to the table with menus. Drinks were ordered and I got my chance to suggest Zander try the mile-high mud pie.

Without even looking to see if it was okay with Aunt Wilona (Dad never let us have dessert unless it was a special occasion), he went for it.

Aunt Wilona went for one, too. In fact, Ham was the only one who took another road and got a slice of turtle cheesecake.

After Trudy left, Zander turned back to me.

“So, do you look like my mom?”

My fingers still held in Ham’s squeezed hard and I felt the tension coming from Aunt Wilona but I powered through all that and held Zander’s gaze.

“No, darlin’. She was blonde but lighter. And she had blue eyes but they were very pretty,” I told him.

He nodded.

“You’re gonna be real tall, I can tell, and she wasn’t all that tall either,” I went on.

He scrunched his lips to the side and I didn’t know if that was disappointment or him simply not knowing what to do with this information.

“I”—my eyes went to Aunt Wilona and back to Zander—“brought a picture if you’d like to see?”

Zander looked at Aunt Wilona. She gave him a shaky smile and then he turned back to me and nodded.

I let Ham’s hand go and went to my purse that was shoved into the seat at my side. My fingers fumbling with nerves, I found the picture of Xenia I’d chosen to bring. I’d done it carefully. And I hoped I’d done it right.

In the picture, Xenia and I were outside at a party. A barbecue some friends were giving in a park. I was sitting cross-legged on the top of a picnic table. She was beside me, standing, leaning into me. We were both smiling, big and bright at the camera, but my goofy sister had her hand behind my head, giving me rabbit’s ears.

She looked beautiful, young, and happy.

I pulled in a breath, put the picture to the table, and slid it across to Zander.

“That’s her,” I whispered. “That’s your mom. My sister. Xenia.”

Eyes riveted to the picture, hands in his lap under the table, he just stared.

“She joked a lot,” I told him, my voice husky so I cleared my throat and felt Ham’s arm slide across the back of the booth and around my shoulders. “She was always joking around,” I continued. “And she told really good scary stories.”

Zander’s eyes lifted from the picture. “Scary stories?”

I nodded. “She’d have you trembling so bad, you’d shake your bed. And when she went in for the kill, you’d jump out of your skin.”

He turned his head to look up to Aunt Wilona and then he looked back down at the picture.

Moments passed and no one said anything.

Zander broke the silence. “Do you remember those stories?” he asked, eyes still on the picture.

My throat started tingling and through it I forced my lie, “Every last one.”

It was a lie but if I got my shot to tell him the ones I remembered, I’d then make up new ones and lie again and say they were Xenia’s.

I just hoped I made up ones that were as good as hers.

He looked again at me and tipped his head to the side, his eyes weirdly astute.

“Why didn’t you come see me before?” he asked and Ham’s arm curled tighter around my shoulders as more tension came from Aunt Wilona.

“I—” I started.

“I don’t live real far away,” Zander pointed out.

Surprisingly, Aunt Wilona spoke.

“Your granddad and Zara aren’t close,” she said and Zander looked up at her. “Grownups do funny things and your granddad does a lot of them.”

Unfortunately, the look on his face stated that he knew that and that didn’t make me feel all that great.

Aunt Wilona wasn’t done but what she said next shocked the crap out of me.

“I should have explained this when I first told you about your Aunt Zara, but your grandfather didn’t want your aunt seein’ you so he made that happen. We’ll talk about that more when you’re a little older, honey, but right now all you need to know is he didn’t do right and your aunt didn’t even know you were as close as you were. She thought you were far away and she couldn’t get to you. But when she found out you were close, Zara made a point to find a way to do what we’re doing right now and she did it. Fast. So here we are.”

Zander looked my aunt straight in the eyes when he stated, “But you knew Aunt Zara was close, too. You told me when you told me about her and my mom.”

I winced when I saw the pain slide through Aunt Wilona’s face.

It was then I came to Aunt Wilona’s rescue by announcing, “Your granddad wouldn’t let her tell you, and I suspect we’ll explain that more when you’re a bit older, too, but she didn’t have a choice but to do what he said.”

He glanced at me when I spoke, nodded when I was done, then looked back at Aunt Wilona and asked, “Why would Granddad do that?”

“Your granddad is a mysterious man,” Aunt Wilona replied vaguely.

“I’ll say,” Zander muttered, looking back down at the picture and his words and all they exposed meant my body tightened and Ham’s arm around my shoulders pulled me into his side.

“You’re here now,” I declared in an effort to lighten the mood and Zander looked up at me. “And I’m here. Aunt Wilona’s here. Reece is here. We’re getting chocolate cake. No, we’re getting the best chocolate cake
ever.
So it’s all good. And if you want to keep that picture,” I nodded to the picture, “It’s yours.”

“Yeah?” Zander asked.

“Yeah,” I answered, smiling at him. “And now, before your mouth is busy shoving cake in it, I want to know everything. What subjects you like in school. Your best friends’ names. Do you play sports—”

“Linebacker. Football. Like Tate Jackson!” he stated immediately. “And after I finish my pro career, I’m gonna be a bounty hunter like him, too.”

Tate Jackson lived one town over. He’d also had a short-lived NFL career that led to a longer career as a bounty hunter.

And thus his life path was any nine-year-old boy’s dream.

“You could be a bounty hunter,” Zander advised Ham. “You’d scare them into givin’ up with just a look.”

“Might be too late for a profession change for me, kid. But also, thinkin’ you might reconsider, as it looks like you’re givin’ both your aunts heart palpitations with your future career plans,” Ham replied.

“Don’t worry. In ten, fifteen years, I’ll be a bada… uh… I mean, I’ll be tough. They’ll be good,” Zander reassured Ham. Then he asked, “Do you work out?”

“Most every day,” Ham answered and it occurred to me that Zander was bonding with Ham and this might not be because he was uncomfortable around me, being his newly-learned-was-dead mother’s sister, but because he had no man in his life.

“Looks like you do it, like, five times a day,” Zander noted, his eyes moving to Ham’s wide chest.

“Only need to do it once, boy, just do it right,” Ham replied.

“You know,” Aunt Wilona broke in, “if… erm… Uncle, uh… Reece would be okay with it, maybe you could, I don’t know… go running with him or something.”

My eyes went to my aunt and for the first time in my whole entire life, I wanted to hug her.

Then I looked to Zander as he bounced in his seat, completely oblivious that Trudy had arrived with a tray full of drinks and plates of cake.

“That would be
so cool
!” he cried.

“I run five miles every day, Zander. Can you keep up with that?” Ham asked.

“Totally,” Zander answered, then looked at me. “Are you going to run with us?”

I really wanted to say yes. I really, really did. But I also didn’t want to drop dead of a heart attack trying to run with Ham and Zander when I’d never run for exercise in my life. In fact, I couldn’t even remember the last time I ran
at all.

“I’ll get the protein shakes ready for your arrival home,” I offered.

“Awesome,” Zander whispered and finally looked at the cake that was sliding in front of him.

It was then he burned a whole straight through my heart.

Because Trudy got too close to the picture of Xenia with the plate of cake.

So Zander’s hand darted out, snatching it up, taking it to safety, and doing this by pressing it face-first to his chest.

I dropped my head, stared at my lap, and deep breathed as my eyes filled with tears.

Ham wrapped his hand around the back of my neck.

I kept doing this until I heard Zander say, sounding like his mouth was full, “This is really good!”

I looked up and saw his mouth was full and getting fuller as he was shoving more cake into it.

The picture of Xenia was propped up on the table by the wall, face out and out of harm’s way.

I swallowed, pulled gently away from Ham, and grabbed my fork.

I took a bite and looked to my aunt.

She was concentrating on her cake so it took a minute before she felt my eyes, lifted her head, and caught them.

I swallowed cake and mouthed,
Thank you.

Tears brightened her eyes as relief washed through her face.

Then she nodded and looked down at her cake.

Ham gave my thigh a squeeze and then picked up his fork.

Zander looked at me and, still with mouth full, announced, “I get all A’s in science but don’t get excited, I get C’s in English. It used to drive Nona nuts but finally she said as long as I can speak it, it isn’t necessary for me to live and breathe it and scientists are way cool so I’m good.”

I smiled as he went on talking and I experienced something very weird as he did.

The weird part wasn’t falling in love with my nephew. I knew I’d do that.

The weird part was falling in love with my aunt.

That was something I never thought I’d do.

* * *

We were on the sidewalk outside The Mark, Aunt Wilona and I a bit away from Zander and Ham, who’d walked down to take a look at his truck.

But not too far away that we didn’t hear Zander yell, “That truck is
huge
!”

I watched Ham smile down at him and my belly felt weird. Like I had butterflies. And it hit me that this was because, at that moment, I understood in a visceral way that Ham would be a good father. And that would mean a good father to
our
kids.

And a good uncle to his nephew.

Holding that feeling close with the warmth of sharing a mud pie with my nephew, I turned to Aunt Wilona and did what I had to do.

I reached out, touched her forearm, and stopped.

She looked down to her arm where my hand had touched, looked at me, and stopped, too.

“Does he ask about his dad?” I asked, bracing for her answer because Xenia had narrowed it down to two guys. Only one was still in town but Zander didn’t look like either of them.

She gave a brief nod. “Started asking about his parents a year or so ago. Being careful with it. Xavier didn’t want me to say anything so I danced around it until, of course, after the, uh…”

She trailed off and I nodded to let her know I understood.

“I don’t know who his father is, Aunt Wilona,” I admitted. “And neither did Xenia. Not for certain.”

She looked toward Zander and murmured, “My niece had demons.”

I was grateful she understood that. In the coming years, sharing with Zander about his mother, it would be important.

“I’ll need to understand how Dad is with him,” I said quietly.

“You know your father,” she replied and my eyes sharpened on her.

“Yes, Aunt Wilona, I do and I’ll need to understand how Dad is with him,” I repeated firmly.

She held my eyes and whispered, “He doesn’t hurt him.”

“Zander seems very high-spirited,” I noted. “Except when he’s talking about Dad. Then he seems confused.”

“Your father is a hard man,” Aunt Wilona said. “Zander is a nine-year-old boy. He doesn’t understand hard.”

“Abuse comes in many forms,” I returned. “And all of them are hard.”

“I wouldn’t allow that to happen,” she retorted quickly and sharply. “We’d disappear before that happened. Zander hasn’t been alone in your father’s presence since he was six months old.”

I let out a relieved breath for a variety of reasons.

It was coming clear that Aunt Wilona was not like my mother. She was a lioness with my nephew. She raised him. She obviously loved him. And most important, when it came to my dad, she protected him.

“It’s very difficult living under this cloud, especially since I have to keep it from Zander,” she went on and I focused on her. “Do you and Reece know what you intend to do?”

“About Zander, not yet,” I answered, then gave her a hint of the relief she gave me. “We’re concerned about him gettin’ caught in this storm. We’d like to avoid doing that and we want to find ways to work with you to accomplish that. But you should know, the clouds are gathering and, tomorrow, Dad is not going to be very happy.”

Her eyes narrowed on me but she simply nodded and didn’t ask questions.

“You seem to have done well with him,” I noted carefully.

“He’s my life,” she replied.

“Aunt Wilona—”

Her face twisted with emotion and she turned fully to me.

“I know I didn’t get him the right way but that doesn’t mean a thing. I told your man and I’ll tell you, Zander wants you in his life. I want him to have his aunt. You were close with Xenia. You can give her to him in a way I can’t, and you did that tonight, seeing as I don’t even have any pictures of her. And a boy should have his mother however he can get her.”

She stopped and I nodded so she continued.

“And I want to mend fences with you. Having him, he’s taught me a few things, and I’ve learned you’re never too old to learn. So, I’m saying this because I want to keep him, I want him safe, I don’t want his life disrupted, but nine years under Xavier’s thumb, nine years with Zander in my life, I’ve learned what’s important. And doing everything I can to give that boy the life he needs to build a good one when he gets older is the only thing that’s important. And that includes family.” She leaned into me. “The
right
kind.”