Last First Kiss (7 page)
Authors: Lori H. Leger,Kimberly Killion
Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women
Lexie looked up at him. “Was she mean?”
“Yes,” Bill answered for his nephew.
“Uncle Bill, that’s not necessary.”
Mackenzie lifted her eyes to Bill, somehow realizing he was the one to ask. “Was she just mean to Jackson, or to everyone?”
“To everyone,” Bill answered. “But she really liked to upset Jackson.”
“Uncle Bill,” Jackson admonished.
Lexie slapped both her hands on the table. “Well, I like you, Jackson. I’m glad she’s not around to upset you anymore.”
“Lexie! You shouldn’t say things like that,” her sister fussed. “Mom would be mad if she heard you.”
“No, she’d prolly be mor...Mort...Morti...What’s that word she uses sometimes when I say things like that?” Lexie asked her sister.
The older child’s brow furrowed in concentration. “I think it’s
mortified
, or something like that.”
Jackson choked on his sip of coffee, while Bill covered his mouth to keep from laughing.
Giselle walked into the kitchen. “Come on, girls,” she said. “There are some co-workers of daddy’s who would like to meet you both. You want to come with me now?”
The girls nodded and climbed down from their chairs.
“Lex, have you been in those jelly donuts?” Giselle asked, examining her daughter. “Let’s see your hands and face.”
“I’m clean, Momma. Jackson washed my face just like daddy does.”
Surprised by Lexie’s comment, Giselle met Jackson’s equally shocked gaze.
Lexie pursed her mouth in a serious frown. “Did I mortify you again, Momma?”
Giselle shook her head and smiled as the two men tried to conceal their grins. “What am I going to do with you, Lex? I can only imagine what you four have been talking about in here,” she mumbled, as she led the girls out of the room.
Still chuckling over Lexie’s comment, Jackson and Bill walked out of the kitchen a few minutes later. Four young women entered the building through the front door. “That’s Sam and Carrie’s three girls and their daughter in law. Have you ever met them, Uncle Bill?”
“No, but I’d like to. Which ones belong to who?”
“That dark haired one is Sam’s daughter, Amanda. She’s in her early thirties. Those two are Carrie’s twins, Gretchen and Lauren...they’re in their mid twenties. The tall one is Trina, their daughter in law. She’s married to Nick, Sam’s boy. Come on, I’ll introduce you,” he said, walking up to the girls.
Amanda turned to him. “Hey Jackson, we didn’t expect to see you here. We’re all so sorry to hear about Chloe,” she said, as the other girls added their condolences.
“Thanks ladies, it’s been awhile. This is my Uncle, Bill Broussard,” he said, introducing them one by one.
“Are you retired, Mr. Broussard?” Amanda asked him.
“Somewhat...I was part owner in an oil drilling company, but I sold most of my shares and bought myself a small ranch and some livestock. Now I mostly ride horses and work cattle.”
Carrie and Sam walked up to the group. “Here’s our girls,” she said.
“Is Giselle still here?” Amanda asked.
Carrie nodded. “She doesn’t want to leave, but she needs to eat something so she can take her pain medication. I can tell she’s hurting.”
Jackson walked off to find Giselle, who was just walking away from a couple. He watched her catch her side and wince in pain. Jackson hurried over to her and grabbed her arm to help support her. “Okay, you’re going into the kitchen right now to eat something.”
She shook her head and placed a hand over her stomach. “Honestly, Jackson, I’m not hungry.”
“Look, I’ve had a broken rib before. You can’t take that pain medication without food and you can’t let it wear off completely, or you’ll be miserable.”
He led her past the others and straight into the kitchen area where he seated her, fixed her a plate of sandwiches, and pushed a bottle of water into her hand.
Jackson pushed the plate to Giselle. “Now eat.”
She made a face at him. “I’m uncomfortable eating alone.”
He got up to place four sandwich halves into a plate and grabbed another bottle of water, before sitting across from her.
Giselle smiled shyly at him as she nibbled at her sandwich. “What were you four discussing in here earlier?”
He chuckled. “Your girls are something else...That Lexie.”
“You don’t have to tell me. You cannot imagine some of the things that come out of that child’s mouth.”
He proceeded to relate the entire conversation he and Bill had with her girls, in turn, making her laugh out loud then blush with embarrassment.
At the next lull in conversation, she turned to Jackson. “Carrie said Chloe left a letter leaving instructions for her arrangements.”
He nodded. “An extremely informative little note, but you don’t need to hear about that.”
“I’d like to, if you don’t mind telling me. It would keep me from thinking about all this.” She waved her hand.
He nodded, and began to tell her some of the content of the letter, omitting the parts only he and his attorney knew about. He hesitated before telling her about the pregnancy and scheduled abortion. “That’s why she was so impatient when we left the coliseum the day of the accident. She needed to drive to Beaumont.”
“Let’s go,” Giselle murmured.
“Excuse me?”
“Toby and I saw her turn to you and say ‘Let’s Go’. It looked like she yelled it at you.”
Jackson snorted. “You’re lucky that’s all you saw.”
“Was it always that bad?” she asked.
“The mood swings and temper-tantrums started after the first year. I’ve discovered recently that she’d slept around since day one, even at our wedding with the ‘not so’ best man.”
“Good Lord, Jackson. What kind of friends did you have?”
Jackson laughed and shook his head. “He wasn’t my friend...wasn’t supposed to be my best man. But, that’s another long story. Maybe I’ll tell you about it someday. Anyway, Chloe’s gone, and I can’t get myself to grieve for her. I think she did me a favor. I don’t have to go through this hell.”
“You’ve already been through your hell, Jackson.”
“Maybe,” he shrugged. “Those pain killers working yet?”
“Yeah, I think so.” She took a deep breath. “I can breathe now. I need to find my girls and make sure they eat some lunch, if they’re not too full on jelly donuts.”
Oh, give ’em a break today, Mom.” He helped her stand.
“I don’t know, if I give them an inch...,” she told him.
The two of them walked to the front, he with a slight limp, and she, with one arm clenched up to her side and the other held by Jackson. She walked past the first row of chairs where Carrie and her girls sat, and gripped one side of Toby’s casket.
“Hey, Baby,” she whispered, gazing down at her husband’s handsome face and wondered, for the hundredth time, how she would be able to live without gazing upon his features ever again. How could she do without the feel of his arms around her, or next to her in bed? How could she possibly do it? She couldn’t bear to think about tomorrow.
CHAPTER 5
The morning of Toby’s funeral, Giselle awoke to the sound of low, rumbling, thunder and a steady downpour of rain falling on the roof of her home. It brought the previous Friday morning to mind, when she and Toby had awakened to similar weather.
She’d rolled over and cuddled up close to her husband.
“
Mmmm…Let’s stay home and play hooky today,”
he had murmured, pulling her closer.
“I don’t have anything pressing. Do you? We could send the girls off to school and spend the rest of the day making love.”
Instead of taking him up on the offer, she’d put him off.
“Save it for tomorrow night,”
she’d told him.
Giselle threw her arm over her eyes and suppressed a sob.
Why didn’t I go back to bed with him? Why did I put it off?
It haunted her. God knew when they found the time for each other, it was wonderful. She closed her eyes, remembering how good it was. She would definitely miss making love with Toby.
She lay there for a few moments, recalling more dialogue of the same conversation, along with the reason she’d given for not crawling back to bed.
“
I can’t babe. Carrie and Jackson both worked late last night on our project deadline so I could go to the girls’ dance recital. I can’t leave her to deal with ‘Satan’ all alone again.”
“
Will you ever drop that grudge against Jackson? He’s alright once you get to know him,”
Toby had insisted.
“
He’s a grumpy ass, even if he is the best engineer we have at the department,”
she’d told him.
“
He’s only grumpy because of ‘Crazy Chloe’,”
he retorted, in defense of his good friend.
Giselle had snorted with disdain.
“Chloe’s just depressed, like I’d be if I had to live with Satan.”
Now that she knew Toby had been right about Chloe’s vicious tendencies, she felt bad for treating Jackson as she’d done.
Regrets...that’s all she seemed to have left. Regret for not making more time for Toby; regret for how she’d treated Jackson. Regret that she’d never again be able to look into the gorgeous brown eyes of her husband. She felt lost without him.
Dear God,
please give me the strength to get through this day. Please let me be strong for my daughters. Please send the help we need to get through this.
Giselle sniffed loudly, then attempted the most difficult and painful physical act she’d gone through since the accident...getting out of bed after sleeping through the night without a painkiller. She tried to sit up, but was in so much pain she broke out in a cold sweat. She rolled out of bed and it produced a wave of nausea so severe she had to sit back down on the bed until it passed. She finally maneuvered herself out of the door toward the end of the hallway, as she leaned against the wall for support and took shallow breaths. She looked toward the breakfast table where her two daughters were eating, and chattering with Sam, Jackson, and Bill. It took excruciating effort from Giselle to call for help.
Jackson was the first to see her and shot out of his chair to reach her before she collapsed. “Sam!” he barked as he helped her to the table, “Get her pain killers...two of them, and a glass of milk.”
Lexie panicked. “What’s wrong with momma?”
Jackson spoke calmly to her. “It’s okay, sweetie. Your mom just slept through the night and doesn’t have any pain medication left in her system. Here, Giselle, take them with milk and when you feel like you can eat something, let me know.”
Giselle chased the two pills with a swallow of milk. She held on to the glass with shaking hands, and began to lean over as she fought off a wave of dizziness.
“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Jackson said as he sat next her to support her.
“I guess I...need to set my alarm...to take a dose during the night,” she gasped, still only able to take shallow breaths.
“That may be a good idea for the next week or so. Try to drink the rest of this,” he said, pushing the milk at her.
She pushed it away. “I don’t want it right now.”
Jackson faced off her irritated gaze with a look of warning. “Pain killers on an empty stomach? Ever had dry heaves with a broken rib, Giselle?”
Giselle thought about it, hating to admit he was right. Reluctantly, she downed the rest of the milk then stared at the men. “Why are you all here?”
“After I took Carrie’s place this morning, Jackson and Bill showed up with breakfast.
She looked at Jackson. “You brought breakfast?”
“I stopped off at Shoney’s and got an assortment from the breakfast buffet: scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, grits, hash browns, mushrooms in butter sauce...What’ll it be, madam?”
“Some of everything. I don’t want any dry heaves.”
Jackson smiled and got up to prepare a plate of food for her.
“You forgot to tell her about the pancakes with strawberry sauce and whipped cream. They’re awesome, Mom,” Mackenzie added.
Giselle frowned. “Are you holding out on me, Jackson?”
“I didn’t know if you could handle anything sweet.”
She thought again of dry heaving and shuddered. “You may be right.” Giselle looked at Lexie’s face, covered in strawberry sauce and whipped cream. “Lex, have you gotten anything
inside
your mouth?”
Bill chuckled. “Don’t worry, she’s eaten plenty.”
Jackson placed a plate in front of her. “Do you want coffee or juice?”
“Coffee, please.”
He brought it to her. “Now eat.”
She pointed her fork at him. “You’re not the boss of me here,” she gasped. “What time is it, anyway?” She attempted to bring a small bite of scrambled egg to her mouth, only to have it fall off the fork she had gripped in her trembling hand.
“A little before seven,” Jackson told her, commandeering the fork to bring a bite of egg up to her mouth. She glared at him, but accepted the bite after he did a perfect imitation of a dry heave.
“Looks like you’re no stranger to dry heaves,” she said, accepting another forkful of food.
