Page 103 of Every Broken Piece
“What do you think,” Jack asks as he slides into the backseat next to me, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt as the driver pulls away. Jack in a suit is a novelty. I’m surprised he lasted this long with it buttoned up.
“I think Montrose needs to get his board on the same page. They’re the ones ruining the company.”
Jack settles back and closes his eyes. “Nothing we haven’t seen before. It’s always the people who’ve been in charge too long that become stagnant and irrelevant.”
“You think that’ll happen with us?”
“Nah. I don’t ever see us becoming stagnant. You going to New York next week?”
“I don’t have a choice. Unless you want to go.”
“Not my area of expertise, brother. You’re better at schmoozing senior management.”
“I don’t really want to leave Tess alone so soon after bringing her here.” Especially after hearing she’s looking for apartments. The thought nagged at me all through dinner and the evening meetings, distracting me from Montrose and his problems.
“How’s she doing? Better than last night?”
I rub a hand down my face and yawn. I laid awake most of the night thinking about what Pax said regarding her experiences in foster care and how she had to adapt to each new house she was in. The last thing I wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable. I want her to understand that this is her home. Not a house to live in, but a home to thrive in.
“She’s searching for apartments and jobs.”
“Look, Gabe.” Jack shifts so he’s angled toward me. “I hope you didn’t bring her out here thinking you can fix her.” He holds up a hand to stop me from denying the accusation, which is what I was about to do. “She’s suffered trauma her whole life and that’s not something a penthouse apartment and a lot of money can fix.”
“What the fuck, Jack? I can’t believe you just said that.” I’m not throwing my money and influence around to “fix” her. Yes, I have the means to whisk her away in a private jet. Yes, I’m lucky enough to live in an apartment building that’s incredibly secure. That just means I’m being smart about what I’m doing, not throwing money at her.
“It’s just that with Cara—”
“This has nothing to do with Cara.” My chest tightens at the mention of my late wife. This is the last place I want to go tonight when I’m so tired I can barely think straight.
“Doesn’t it?” Jack asks quietly.
“Of course it doesn’t.”
Jack falls silent because he knows he’s made his point even if I disagree with him. Cara’s death, and the years leading up to her death, are a bone of contention between us. We’ve never outrightspoken about her depression. Or the fact that I tried my best to “fix” her as Jack would say. I just wanted her to be happy. I wanted Pax and I to be enough for her and we never were. She loved us. I know she did. But we weren’t enough to keep her with us.
“It’s not the same,” I say into the quiet car.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Jack says. “And I don’t want Pax to get hurt either.”
“Fuck you.” But the words lack the strength behind them. I can’t fault Jack for trying to protect Pax and me. He was the one who picked up the pieces after Cara’s death. He was the one who held me together and learned to take care of a toddler and keep our fledgling business going.
But Tess is different. Tess is a fighter. She’s battled for normalcy her whole life and I want her to finally have someone in her corner. I want to be that person in her corner. It’s not fixing her. It’s bolstering her.
Nevertheless, Jack’s words stay with me as we ride the elevator to our respective floors in silence. By the time I get to my front door my feet are dragging. My eyes feel gritty, and my heart is thumping because Tess is on the other side of the door and I’m suddenly questioning everything. Did I bring her here to fix her? Was I selfish to bring her to my home, not thinking how this will affect Pax?
I step into my apartment and close the door softly behind me.
“Go fish!” Pax yells.
Tess giggles and that sound right there makes me feel ten times better. Jack’s wrong. This isn’t anything like Cara. Cara was a dreamer; caught in a tidal pool she didn’t think she could get out of. Tess faces each battle as it comes and wins. There’s a difference.
“Do you have a sh-seven,” I hear her say.
My smile slowly fades because she doesn’t sound right. She’s slurring her words. Is her head hurting? Did she do something to make it worse? When I enter the kitchen and finally see them, I understand why she doesn’t sound like herself.
“Paxton!”
Tess shrieks. The playing cards she’s holding go flying everywhere.
