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“You are a mean baby,” Dallas said as Annabelle smashed the discarded sweet potatoes into her highchair tray with her chubby hand, challenging her mother with a loud “No.”
“Let me try. Eat something, babe,” Dean said, taking the spoon from my sister. Every day, my respect and love grew for the man who worked hard to take care of his family. Dean had come back for my sister years after they’d split up and won her back through his love and devotion, which remained a staple of who he still was to this day. I looked on as he spooned another bite of sweet potatoes from the jar. Annabelle took his bite, fooling both of her doting parents and playing with it in her mouth. And just as they praised her, she spit it out. My father laughed loudly at his granddaughter’s cruelty as Dean pleaded with his daughter to cooperate.
I looked back at my mother, who was still waiting for a response to her question. “I’ll speak, but I hope you all know not to say anything to anyone about Grant, especially the crew and new employees.”
My father simply nodded in understanding as he filled his plate with food.
My mother and sister looked at me confused. “I mean, I know the name of the center will be questioned, but we can just tell them he was a dear friend of the family without going into specifics. I had to endure months of sympathy and answering questions. It wore on me, okay? It’s my story to tell and only if I choose to. I don’t want you all telling it for me, to anyone, okay?”
I got a collective agreement from the table and sat back in hopes that it remained that way. Though my reasons for asking them now were specific to Jack, I truly hated the unwanted sympathy offered whenever I shared that my fiancé had died a week before our wedding in a horrific car accident. It wasn’t something I freely talked about to anyone except Dallas, and even our conversations had died in frequency. Nothing about it seemed therapeutic to me. I didn’t want to relive what happened. I only wanted to remem
ber the time I had with Grant. And for now, that meant to keep my memories separate from the current life I was living. As fucked up as it might have been, I’d compartmentalized everything. And when I was struggling to breathe or simply exist as a human day-to-day, ritual seemed the only thing that kept me grounded.
I still replayed my time with Grant every day, down to the smallest possible detail. Even considering my new situation with Jack, I remained faithful to my promise to never forget Grant. My heart remained faithful to him and yet my affection for Jack seemed to stem from somewhere similar. I silenced the judgment that brewed inside of me. I reasoned that as long as I kept Jack within the set parameters, I could keep my promise.
The next day after a long shift at the hospital, I wanted nothing more than my drab ritual of a hot bath and a mind-numbing amount of wine. I was absolutely floored when I arrived home to see a party in full swing at the center. Two large red tents were erect at the side of the main building on the grass and there looked to be at least forty people or more beneath it. Zydeco music wafted through the air, and I could easily detect the smell of heat-filled spices. Slightly irritated that no one had mentioned a party by so much as a text, I stomped my way into one of the tents, looking for a Whittaker’s ass to kick.
My mother and Jack were front and center as Jack hooked opposite arms with her and they both stomped their feet in what I could only guess was a jig. Jack was flawless in his delivery as my mother struggled but kept up nicely. Her face was lit with so much excitement that a small amount of my anger diminished. I heard my name being called but ignored it as I watched Jack in his element. His enamored look for my mother as he taught her a thing or two was enough to make me want to go to him, and yet as I watched, he had no idea of his draw on me. I finally ripped my eyes away from them both to look around the tent and felt transported. It was humid, and though everyone around me was damp with sweat, there wasn’t one person in the crowd without a smile. A small buffet table had been set out, stuffed with crawfish, jambalaya, dirty rice, and artfully arranged breads. The tents were illuminated with strings and strings of red and white lights. Beer poured freely from a few tapped kegs, and there wasn’t a hand in the house without a celebratory cup. I recognized the partygoers as the building crew and a few friends of our family. Scanning the crowd, I spotted Dallas, who was waving to me from across the dance floor, Annabelle on her hip, her hair a sweaty mess, and a refreshing smile on her face. I lifted my hands in a questioning manner, and she rolled her eyes, waving me over to her. I cut through the crowd and out of the tent then made my way to her. I neared Dallas in time to see her pass Annabelle off to Dean. I began to look for Grant and couldn’t find him. I pinched Dallas’s ass hard through her scrub pants, and she shot up with a loud yelp as she turned to me with menace.
“Where is my nephew?”
“He’s with the Harrisons in the other tent.”
“You just pass off our baby to strangers,” I said, desperately looking for my nephew as Dallas lifted a red cup to her lips.
“We’ve known them our whole lives, idiot.”
“Yes, and they are old as shit. They’ll break a hip lifting him!” I said in sheer panic.
“Oh, Jesus, you really are bad off.”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“I’ll gladly hand you the high strung trophy tomorrow, but tonight, shut up.” She shoved a cup of what smelled like pure alcohol in my face, but I pushed it away. Finally spotting Grant, who was showing the Harrisons his now signature dance moves, I breathed out a sigh of relief and then turned to my sister. “Thanks for the heads-up on the party, asshole.”
“Jack thought it would be a good way to show the builders we appreciate all they’ve done.”
“Oh, Jack thought, huh?”
“Yeah,” she said defensively, shoving the drink back into my face. “He did, and Dad and I agreed. He literally had this whole damned thing done in a matter of hours. We also agreed to give the crew the day off tomorrow, too.”
“Well, that’s just dandy,” I said as I looked up and saw Dean pass Annabelle off to the Harrisons as well and make his way back toward us. Thirsty from the heat, I took a large sip of the cup and nearly gasped at its strength and amazing taste.
“Holy shit!”
“Yep, I strongly suggest you go try some of his cooking. He’s something else in the kitchen.”
“Jack made this?”
“You should’ve seen him ordering Pedro around in an attempt to get it ready.”
Pedro was our favorite of all the crew and one of the first employees my father hired. He was considered family.
“I miss everything,” I said defeated. The last of my anger disappeared with each long sip I took.
“No, you don’t. You’re here, right?” Dallas said as her eyes bulged, Dean suddenly behind her, his body language suggestive. I rolled my eyes, lifted my glass to Dean, and turned to leave in search of a refill.
“Hey, that’s my drink!”
