Chapter 30 - The Future She Left Behind

A knock sounded on Jackson’s apartment door early Saturday afternoon. His nerves had been stretched taut since he’d woken in the morning, because he knew Katelyn was tagging along with him to visit his mother. He removed the pie from the fridge, hoping his mom wouldn’t be disappointed—Ginny had been under the weather yesterday and hadn’t baked any peach pies, so he’d settled for lemon. When he opened the door, Katelyn nodded to the pastry box.

“Usually a guy gives a girl flowers on a date, not a pie,” she said.

He struggled to keep a straight face. “It’s not for you.”

“Oh.”

He stepped outside and then motioned for her to precede him down the stairs. He followed, his eyes glued to the swish-sway of her fanny. “What are you wearing?” he asked when they reached the pavement.

She plucked at the blue floral material. “Palazzo pants. They’re comfortable.”

“I like the way they show off your ass.”

Her laughter settled his nerves. “One out of two isn’t bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t like my haircut, but you like my pants.”

He led the way to his truck, then held the passenger-side door open and waited while she secured her seat belt before he handed over the bakery box. After he got behind the wheel, he started the engine and flipped on the air conditioner. “You caught me off guard.”

She brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “I don’t care what anyone thinks of my new hairstyle. I like it.”

“It’s nice.” He stared into her eyes. “But seeing you in short hair made me realize that we can never go back to the way things were between us.”

“Did you think we could?” she asked.

He backed the truck away from the Dumpster. “I thought we could forget the past twenty-some years and pick up where we left off.”

“But we’re not the same people.”

“I know.” He squeezed the steering wheel, grappling with how to explain his fear of being left behind again.

“I’m ready to move forward with my life, but that doesn’t mean you can’t join me.” Her lips flirted with a smile. “That is, if you want to hitch a ride with someone who doesn’t have a clue where she’s going.”

“Getting lost can be fun.” He turned onto the street and headed south out of town.

“How come you didn’t talk about your mother when we dated?” she asked.

“It was bad enough that people gossiped about my dad’s drinking.”

“How did you and your mom reconnect?”

“I found out she and her husband had been in a car accident when a rehabilitation hospital in San Diego contacted me. My mother was ready to be released, and they wanted to know if I was coming to get her.”

“That must have been a shock.”

“The accident killed her husband and left her paralyzed from the waist down,” Jackson said.

“That’s terrible. Did you know she’d gotten married?”

“Nope.”

“So you two have made amends?” Katelyn asked.

“I wouldn’t say that.” His mother had never asked for his forgiveness and he’d never offered it. “We don’t talk about the past.” He shrugged. “She needed help finding a place to live. The guy she married left her well-off. Money isn’t an issue.”

“That’s fortunate for her.”

“We decided it would be best if she moved to Odessa so I could check on her. She rents a guesthouse on a property outside of town.”

“Have you thought of moving her to Little Springs?”

“Her doctors are in Odessa, and it would be difficult to find visiting nurses willing to make the drive to Little Springs.” Even though he’d allowed his mother back into his life, Jackson wasn’t comfortable around her and he liked keeping some distance between them.

He turned on the radio and focused on his driving—the stretch of I-20 between Little Springs and Odessa was known as Armadillo Armageddon. He’d be lucky if he didn’t run over one of the stupid pests. Thirty minutes later he parked in front of the rental house.

“Does she know I’m coming?” Katelyn asked.

“Yes.” He got out of the pickup, then opened Katelyn’s door and took the bakery box from her. When they reached the house, he knocked instead of walking in. “It’s me, Jackson.”

“Door’s unlocked!”

“You first.” Jackson opened the door.

Katelyn wasn’t sure what a woman who’d abandoned her child would look like, but the frail, petite mother with salt-and-pepper hair didn’t appear strong enough to hurt a fly.

“Mom, this is my friend Katelyn. Katelyn, this is my mother, Nicole Parker.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker.”

“Call me Nicole.”

“Ginny ran out of peach pies.” Jackson set the bakery box on the kitchen counter. “I brought you a lemon instead.”

“Thanks, honey.”

Honey. The endearment sounded natural and spontaneous, as if the woman had called her son that for years and not only when he’d been a little boy.

“Sit down.” Nicole waved them to the couch in front of the window. “Jackson tells me you and he dated in high school.”

“We did,” Katelyn said. “Then I went off to college in Columbia, Missouri.”

“I understand you’re a very good artist.”

Katelyn flashed Jackson a smile. “I’ll find out how good I am when I show my work at the Pecos Art Festival.”

“My husband was creative. He used to make furniture out of old car parts.”

“Jackson’s father?”

“No. Ken, my second husband,” Nicole said.

Katelyn listened as mother and son talked about the weather and Mendoza Auto. The pair didn’t act as if they’d reconnected after years of no contact. Maybe they were putting on a good show for her. Or maybe ignoring the past was the only way forward for them.

Nicole pushed her wheelchair closer to the coffee table. “I can’t remember where Jackson said you live now?”

“St. Louis,” Katelyn answered.

Nicole’s gaze dropped to Katelyn’s bare ring finger. “Will you be moving to Little Springs after your divorce?”

Surprised Jackson had told his mother so much about her, she said, “I’m not sure, but I haven’t ruled it out.”

“And I hear you have twins.”

“Michael and Melissa. They’ll be freshmen in college this fall.”

“And your soon-to-be ex-husband . . . what does he do?”

“He works for a company called NicorTrune.”

A knock interrupted Nicole’s interrogation. Jackson answered the door, then said, “I’ll be right back.”

“That’s Joan,” Nicole said. “Her husband isn’t very handy, and she asks Jackson to fix things when he visits.”

Katelyn watched the pair through the window. Joan smiled at something Jackson said, and she winced when the little green monster pinched her.

“Do you care for my son?”

Startled, Katelyn said, “Pardon?”

“I sense Jackson has strong feelings for you.”

“We have a special history together.” Katelyn wasn’t comfortable with Nicole’s nosy questions, and didn’t feel the woman had a right to ask them.

Jackson’s mother must have read her mind, because she said, “I hurt my son when I left. That’s something I have to live with, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about him.” She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t want you to hurt him.”

If Nicole knew how badly Katelyn had hurt her son years ago, she’d run her over with the wheelchair. But how could Katelyn promise not to hurt Jackson again when she had no idea what a future for them looked like? “Why did you leave Jackson’s father?”

“Ricky was never going to stop drinking.” Nicole’s chin jutted in the air. “He didn’t hit me, but he threatened to, and I knew if I stayed, it was only a matter of time before I got a black eye.”

“Weren’t you worried that he’d abuse Jackson after you left?”

“No. He never yelled at our son. Half the time he didn’t even know the boy was around.” She straightened her shoulders. “I gave Jackson forty dollars and told him that if things got bad, he could buy a bus ticket and leave town.”

Leave town to go where? Katelyn clamped her mouth shut, afraid she’d say something she couldn’t take back.

“My son was better off staying behind where he had a roof over his head and food on the table.”

Katelyn’s throat grew tight as she envisioned a miniature version of Jackson pleading with his mother not to leave.

“I begged him not to turn out like his father.” She expelled a deep sigh. “But he ended up like Ricky—an alcoholic who works on cars.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a mechanic.”

“It’s an honest living, but he won’t ever be able to afford luxuries.”

Nicole sounded like Shirley. “Luxury is overrated.” If anyone knew that, it was Katelyn.

“I’m sure you don’t believe I have a right to ask anything of my son.” Nicole wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I realize every visit is a gift from him that I don’t deserve.”

Katelyn was spared from responding when the front door opened and Jackson walked in. “I fixed the leaky spigot on the side of Joan’s house.”

“Cut us a piece of pie, will you?” Nicole asked.

“Sure.”

“I’ll help.” Katelyn joined him in the kitchen, eager to escape Nicole’s scrutiny.

The visit lasted a half hour longer, and then Jackson said, “I need to get back to the garage.”

“It was nice meeting you, Nicole.” Katelyn flashed a quick smile, then slipped out the door, allowing Jackson a moment of privacy with his mother.

“You hungry?” he asked after he climbed into his pickup and they drove off.

“Not really.” Was he looking for an excuse not to take her home? “Shirley’s out with Vern, and Mom’s over at Etta and Faye’s, helping them with their garden. We can talk at the house.”

Jackson turned on the radio and they listened to country music on the way home.

Little Springs would always be Katelyn’s home, but this summer the town was beginning to feel a lot like a place she belonged.

When they reached Birdie’s, she poured glasses of iced tea and they sat on the back porch.

“Katelyn?”

“Yes?”

“Did Don try to talk you out of signing the divorce papers when he came to town?”

“No. We’re both ready to move on.”

“For what it’s worth . . . I wish things would have worked out for you two.”

She studied Jackson. “You really mean that.”

“Your happiness has always been important to me.”

“I’m working on it.” She bumped his shoulder. “Same goes for you.”

“I’m working on it, too.”

“You know what would make me happy right now?” She turned her head toward him.

“This?” He leaned across his chair and brushed his lips over hers, but the moment he deepened the kiss, a horn honked.

Birdie had horrible timing.