Page 100 of Smoky Mountain Dreams
Jesse’s stomach clenched. “All right.”
“How about you go ahead and let Nova and Tim deal with Marcy’sday-to-day care from now on? Your dad and I…well, we think it’s time youconsider a divorce. Of course we’ll pay for Marcy’s care—only the best, Ipromise, for as long as it’s required. There’s no need for you to spend yourfunds on that when we can handle it easily.”
“I can handle it easily too,” he gritted out. “It’s not aboutthe money. You know that.”
“But, Jesse, darling, if you’ve found a person to careabout, don’t you think it’s only right to move on and give that person yourfocus and full affection? How could anything less be fair to him? He alreadyhas to make allowances for the kids. You wouldn’t want to put theresponsibility for Marcy ahead of him too, would you? Not to mention thepressure of a lawsuit if you pursue an appeal.”
Jesse remembered sunset colors on Christopher’s face and thepeace of the cove around them as Christopher had insisted,“LikeI said, I’m second choice here. I have to be. I get that and it’s okay.”If Jesse stayed married to Marcy, if he pursued the appeal, was he makingChristopherthirdchoice? Christopher deserved somuch better than that.
“What are you thinking, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know, Mom. Thanks for your generosity.”
“Anything for our children. You know that.”
Jesse almost snorted but didn’t because he didn’t need torattle their cages with a stick made up of his childhood grievances. “Dinner’sready. Happy Thanksgiving.”
After dinner, Jesse lingered at the table. He pushed thepumpkin pie guts around on his plate, unable to get his conversation with hismom or run-in with Ronnie off his mind. She’d been her usual insufferable selfand gotten under his skin. He knew he shouldn’t let her, but he still feltunsettled and accused—like he was back on the witness stand defending hisreasons for wanting control over Marcy’s healthcare. Only he didn’t quite knowwho he was trying to convince this time. There was no jury or judge. Just theitching in his brain that just wouldn’t quit.
Sitting alone at the dining room table, he glanced upat Tim in an easy chair, reading to Brigid and Will from a hippie book abouthow the story of Thanksgiving was a big old lie and that white people were aplague that destroyed the cultures of Native Americans. Brigid folded cranes,of course. Jesse looked over to Nova, who had her arm around Will on the sofaas he ignored Tim in favor of watching the football game—his small helmet andjersey on—rooting for the Rams with all his little heart. Jesse hadn’t seen anyguilt on his in-laws faces during dinner, but still he wondered. Had theydecided to take his interest in Christopher to his mother and work on her toget him to back off from the lawsuit?
Had they honestly thought that would work?
Still, between Ronnie’s surprise appearance and the phonecall with his mother, he was having twinges of doubt for the first time abouthis motivations in staying married to Marcy. Was he really doinganyone—himself, the kids, his family, and now Christopher—any good? Maybe hewasn’t even doing Marcy any good.
“If you’re done murdering that poor pie, why don’t you putyour plate in the dishwasher,” Nova called out, ruffling her fingers throughWill’s hair. “And then why don’t you call your boyfriend? It’s Thanksgivingafter all. You should wish him a happy one.”
Brigid looked up sharply from her cranes, her pale facegoing a little paler as she glanced between Nova and Jesse. Jesse gripped hisfork.
Will tore his gaze away from the television. “You’ve got aboyfriend, Dad?”
“It looks like I do. You remember Christopher.”
“Noodle-war Christopher?”
“Yeah.”
“Awesome. He’s cool. He should come play again.”
Jesse exhaled a shaky breath. “Maybe on Saturday. He’scoming over to help your sister with cranes.”
Brigid glared at her brother, who was oblivious, his eyesback on the game. Then she shot an anxious glance at Jesse, obviously worriedhe’d seen her. She looked vaguely ashamed, and ducked her head, going back toher folding, seeming to work with renewed concentration.
Will lifted his arms in the air. “Touchdown! Yes!” Novasmiled at him and kissed the side of his helmet. He hunched forward, allexcitement, focused entirely on the screen. “C’mon, guys, you’ve got this,” hemuttered.
Jesse smiled and shook his head. Will’s love for the Ramswas unexplainable. Nova thought it might be because their colors were navy andgold and he’d always had a thing for gold. As far as Jesse knew, that couldwell be the reason. He’d never really cared one way or another about that teamhimself. Not like the Steelers. Or the Vols.
Nova touched Tim’s shoulder as she crossed the room and intothe kitchen. Tim followed her, his face a bit tense, and Jesse felt his stomachdrop to his toes. Clearly this Thanksgiving was not going to end on an up note.
“Why don’t you come out on the back porch with us for aminute,” Nova said. “Tim spotted a falcon’s nest out there he’s been wanting toshow you.”
Brigid looked up from her cranes, clearly not fooled by Nova’sexcuse to get Jesse alone, at least if the small frown and flash of worry wasanything to go by.
Jesse stepped out back with them and pushed the slidingglass door shut. The air was brisk and refreshing after the heavy meal, and hetook a deep breath and leaned back against the railing. “Okay, what didn’t youwant the kids to overhear?”
“I won’t insult you by dancing around the subject,” Novasaid. “The fact is, well, we’d like invite Ronnie and Milton for Christmas.”
Jesse blinked at her.
