Page 17 of A Different Kind Of December
“Happy to be the cause of your happiness, Jamie Louise, and I’m only here thanks to the love, support, and patience of all of you lot. Now, get me a drink, I’ve been sober far too long today.”
Surrounded by the people that knew Sean best, I drank, I talked, I smoked a little weed, I danced, I sang, and eventually... I cried.
When there was no more drinking, singing, talking, dancing, smoking, and crying to be done, my husband carried me out to a taxi and took me home.
Thanks to the people that had always been unwavering in their love for me, I’d had the happiest, saddest day of my life.
A
couple of weeks later, I’m sitting at Jimmie’s breakfast bar, drinking a cup of tea.
I’ve had a stand up argument—well, a full-on screaming match actually—with Tallulah this morning, and it left me shaken.
She couldn’t find her school shirt. She has six school shirts, but she wanted to wear this particular school shirt. I’ve a feeling it’s because the shirt she was looking for is a size too small and makes her boobs look like they’re going to burst right out of it.
When I told her I’d sent it with a bag of other stuff to the clothes bank over the weekend, she hit the fucking roof and told me I was a control freak who needed help and that she was moving out and going to live with my mother.
Yeah, good luck with that.
Good luck to both of them.
Before I inflicted physical harm on my daughter, I got in my car and drove to Jimmie’s, leaving Cam to deal with the school run.
“I don’t know why you let her get to you. Dealing with her is like arguing with yourself, and you should know by now you never listen to anyone.”
I stare down into my tea, chewing on my lip.
“Am I that bad?” I eventually look up and ask.
Jimmie gives a small shrug. “You’re a lot better now than you used to be, but when you were younger, once that red mist came down, it was always better to walk away until you’d calmed down. Lu’s the same.”
“Do you never row with your girls?”
“Of course I do. Harley’s pretty easy going, but Paige, she’s more like you, especially lately.”
I watch as Jimmie reflects my actions from earlier and stares into her teacup.
It makes me feel like a shitty friend. Things haven’t been great between Jimmie and Paige for a little while, and I know that it’s partly my fault.
Paige is, once again, back with her on-again-off-again boyfriend of the past eighteen months.
What are the odds that Lennon and Jimmie’s daughter would end up dating the son of Rocco Taylor and Haley White? Considering who his parents are, RJ is actually a really nice bloke, or at least he seems to be.
I’ve not been around him that often, I think Jim deliberately tries to keep us apart, which I’m thankful for. I may not have issues with him, but I won’t lie and say it’s easy to be around him. He looks a lot like his dad, and I’ll never forgive or forget what that man did to my family, what he took from Sean and me, and the way his actions changed my life irrevocably.
I know that my own stubborn pigheadedness is to blame for the years Sean and I spent apart, but it all started with him—Rocco Taylor.
And as for her, his mother, Haley White? It doesn’t matter that she’s seriously ill with sclerosis of the liver and has apparently been dying for the past eighteen months, I would happily punch the head in of that excuse for a human and enjoy it just as much as I did the last time.
Forgiveness is not part of my vocabulary where those two are concerned.
“How are things between the two of you?”
Jimmies eyes slice to mine, and her chest heaves as she lets out a sigh and shakes her head.
“Something’s not right, George. She came back here Sunday with a broken wrist and a cut over her eye, she—”
“What the fuck, Jim?” I interrupt. “What happened, why didn’t you tell me?”
