Page 3 of The Couple's Secret
Except that Wren hated Josie. Or at the very least, disliked her intensely. Josie had tried everything to get the girl to open up only to be met again and again with an emotional wall so high that Josie didn’t know if it could ever be breached. Whenever Josie had to do or say anything remotely parent- or guardian-like, Wren shut her out for days. Staring at the stupid lip gloss, Josie wondered if this was a hill she wanted to die on.
“Boys do not drool!” Harris insisted.
“Uncle Noah drools all the time,” Josie said, pocketing the lip gloss as she walked to the table to ruffle Harris’s hair.
She smiled at Wren but all she got in return was a blank stare. Then the girl turned away, busying herself by cleaning up the leftover flour on the countertop. Only Misty seemed to notice the slight, giving Josie a sympathetic smile. Erica was already challenging Harris to another game.
“I’ve got to get ready for work,” Josie said awkwardly. No one responded. Trout, who was normally attuned to every small shift in Josie’s mood, didn’t even glance at her. Instead, he followed Misty to the fridge, still hopeful that he might receive an unexpected treat.
Josie waited until she got upstairs to the primary bedroom to let out a heavy sigh.
Two
In their bedroom, Josie dropped the lip gloss on top of her dresser and checked Noah’s closet for one of his clean work shirts. No luck. With a sigh, she fished one from the rest of the dirty laundry. She pressed her face into it, reveling in his scent. It had always brought her comfort but more so since he’d been returned to her. Every time she caught the scent of his aftershave or touched him or woke before he did to find him sleeping peacefully beside her, butterflies took flight in her stomach. It was impossible to forget how close she’d come to losing him. At least a dozen times a week, she was assaulted by terrifying memories of the days he’d been missing followed by waves of gratitude that he had survived. Her body could barely contain the emotions, even all these months later.
Pausing, she took a couple of deep breaths and examined the shirt more closely. It was wrinkled but stain-free. It would be huge on her but she didn’t have any other options. Luckily, she had one pair of work pants that had escaped the Cosmic Primrose massacre. She changed quickly.
More laughter floated up from the kitchen. Harris loudly declared something, but Josie couldn’t make out the words.
She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her boots on. Her cell phone chirped from its place next to her on the bed. It was a message reminding her that the final payment was due for the venue she and Noah had chosen for their vow renewal ceremony in three weeks. It was an old barn that a nearby farm had converted into a beautiful, rustic event space. They’d only been married for five years but their wedding had been hijacked by a homicide investigation. When the ceremony didn’t happen, their guests had danced the night away in the reception hall while the two of them worked against the clock to prevent more carnage.
Unfortunately, they’d been too late to keep Josie’s grandmother out of the crossfire. Lisette had been shot. After undergoing extensive surgery, she continued to bleed internally. Knowing that she had days, possibly only hours left, Lisette had insisted that Josie and Noah get married at her bedside. She’d known that if Josie didn’t get married before her death, she wouldn’t ever do it. It had been a somber occasion. The best and worst day of her life. Just before his abduction, Noah had suggested renewing their vows for their fifth anniversary. It was a way to give themselves the wedding they’d had to skip. Josie had been elated and once Noah was safely home and recovered from his injuries, she’d thrown herself into planning it.
Now, with Wren in their care, it seemed so unimportant.
She stared at the message for a long moment. They had already postponed it once so they could prioritize Wren, moving the ceremony from late April to late June. Maybe they should call it off altogether. They could get their deposit back if they canceled within the next week. Josie had already missed the last two fittings for the dress that her mother and sister had helped her pick out a few weeks before Wren came into their lives. They’d lose a bit of money at this stage, but nothing compared to what their original wedding had cost them. Their home life felt so precarious, so fragile. Perhaps she and Noah should continue to focus solely on their new family unit instead of renewing their vows.
She’d have to talk to him about it.
As she set her phone down, she saw that her nightstand drawer was open. No more than an inch but noticeable. Had she failed to close it properly the last time she was digging around in there? Or had someone been searching the contents? She had her answer when she took a good look inside. The mess of random items she kept there—a flashlight, a pen and notepad, a small bottle of lotion, a bottle of ibuprofen, and some cough drops—had all been rearranged. Josie knew this because normally, they hid the anniversary card Noah had given her last year. It was suggestive to say the least, but the sweet and very private handwritten note he’d scrawled inside had made it impossible to part with, which was why it lived hidden in the recesses of her nightstand drawer.
Beneath that was where she’d been keeping the letter that Wren’s father left for her. Now, she saw the corner of it peeking out from under Noah’s card. Josie had read it dozens of times. Apparently, Wren had found it and read it as well.
With a sigh, Josie pulled it free. For the second time in the last half hour, she asked herself was this a hill she wanted to die on? Wren had invaded her privacy. Last week, Josie had sat in this exact spot and read the letter twice before wiping her tears and putting it back in its hiding spot. When she’d turned toward the open doorway, Wren had scurried away. Josie had followed her to the living room, asked if everything was okay, if she needed anything, and received a quick “yes” and “no” before Wren bent her head to the sketchpad she carried everywhere and ignored Josie for the rest of the day.
Then, instead of asking to read the letter, she went behind Josie’s back and rummaged through her things.
All Josie had to do was go downstairs, take her aside and tell her: “Remember to check the pockets of your clothes before you wash them,” and, “Don’t go through my personal things. If there’s something you want to know about, just ask.”
Grief doesn’t cancel out accountability. That’s what the therapist had said. In other words, Josie needed to parent.
But could she really blame Wren for wanting access to this small piece of her father? Of course not. Josie would gladly have handed it over, if only she’d asked.
“Shit.”
Josie unfolded the letter. Its creases were well-worn. Her fingers grazed Dex’s neat, blocky handwriting. The letter was addressed to her, but she had always intended to pass it on to Wren at some point. It belonged to her as much as it belonged to Josie. It contained her father’s words, his handwriting, his intentions, his reasoning, and shining through it all, his lovely soul.
More excited shrieks came from the kitchen. Trout barked in that way he did when all the humans were excited, and he felt like he needed to be part of it even though he didn’t know what was happening. Either that, or no one had given him a treat in a really long time, meaning ten to fifteen minutes.
Dear JoJo,
* * *
I wish I didn’t have to write this. Like I told you, I was only with Wren’s mother once. She never told me I had a daughter. I found out after she died. My beautiful Wren was already nine years old by the time I met her. Imagine that. A little girl who just lost her mom learning that a beast like me is her dad.
A tear rolled down Josie’s cheek, off her chin, and landed on the page. Quickly, she blotted it with her shirttail. She hated crying. There wasn’t much that could slice through her mental defenses and inspire tears and even when there was, she rarely let them fall. For Dex though, she let them flow. He’d earned it.
He had only looked like a beast. In reality, he was one of the best men Josie had ever known.
