Page 8 of We Thought We Knew It All
“Oh, this is gonna be good. None of them have talked to you in ten years. Boy, you have some explaining to do.” Her face softened. “It’s so good to see you. I’ll handle Jacks. You go on in.”
I breathed deeply, pulling open the door. The place was packed, but as I walked through, only one person caught my eye.
She stood in the kitchen, putting out dishes of food with the help of a few other ladies from town. Grabbing a pot of coffee, she glanced up, letting out a yell as she dropped the pot to the floor. The glass didn’t break, but coffee spilled everywhere. One of the other women immediately started cleaning it up as Callie stepped out of her way.
I rushed forward, crushing her to me. In my dreams, I’d held her so many times over the last decade. But now, here, this was real and for the first time, I knew coming home was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.
Callie sucked in a shaky breath, pulling away as she did. Before I knew what was happening, I was kissing her and her fist was connecting with my jaw. I fell back against the counter and saw Colby and Jay nearby with matching stunned looks on their faces.
“We’d do the same if she hadn’t beaten us to it,” Colby said. “Ten years, man.”
Callie looked from her brother to Jay to me. She shoved me once more and stalked away.
“Mom,” Jacks yelled, trailing behind her. “Why are you beating up the soldier?”
4
Callie
My hand stung with the reminder of what I’d just done as I pushed through the doors to the back deck, leaving the sounds of the wake behind.
I sucked in the fresh air, hating myself for my shaky legs.
Jamie f-ing Daniels.
Damn.
It took me a long time, but I’d finally been able to stop thinking about him. When I married Dylan, it’d only been a year since I said goodbye to the first boy I’d ever loved. The boy I still loved. But my son needed a father - if that was what Dylan was.
Oh God. I sat on the edge of the deck and buried my face in my arms.
Why did he think he had the right to kiss me? That right ended when we both walked away, and I didn’t hear from him for ten freaking years. An entire decade. He was just gone, abandoning me, Jay, and Colby in the process.
Ass.
Little arms wrapped around my shoulders from behind. “Are you okay, Mom?”
I smiled despite the overwhelming desire to cry. Clasping Jackson’s hand in mine, I pulled him around to sit beside me and put my arm around him.
“I will be.”
His warmth soaked into my side. Since I left Dylan, Jacks had seen himself as my protector. Even when my father was around, he acted as man of the house.
“Can you teach me how to hit like you?” he asked.
I barked out a stunned laugh. “Sweetie, you shouldn’t be hitting anyone.”
“But if I could, then you wouldn’t have to. Girls shouldn’t hit people.”
“I don’t know who has been spinning tales, but girls can do whatever boys can. Remember that.” I paused, thinking about what I was teaching my son. “But neither boys nor girls should be hitting people.”
I rested my chin on top of his soft brown curls. It was instinct, but all everyone in that house saw was me punching a grieving son at his father’s wake. I’d never expected to see him again, but he was here, and I couldn’t avoid it forever.
A few minutes more. I needed time to absorb the unlimited amounts of strength my son seemed to have at all times.
* * *
Jamie wasin the kitchen where I’d left him. Colby and Jay watched him, speaking in short clipped sentences.
