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After Jen’s tears have subsided, I guide her from the inn’s front sitting room to the main living room, where John and Jackie are with the kids. Both Ella and Eli are asleep on the sofa, and I glance at John. He picks up on my silent communication by easing Ella into his arms while Jenna does the same with Eli. I pass John the keys to my truck, press kisses to the kids’ foreheads and Jenna’s temple, then lower onto the sofa to face Colin.
“Here you go, honey.” Jackie, always the level-headed maternal figure for everyone who needs it, hands the teen a white mug with steam curling from its top. “It’s just hot water with a little bit of lemon and honey, but it’ll be soothing for you. Seth, would you like any?”
“No, but thank you.” I offer her a smile, barely resisting a wince as it stretches the skin over my bruise.
Jackie leans down to study my jaw. “Seth. You’ve got a nasty bruise forming. I’ll grab a rice bag and then give you two some privacy to talk. Colin, if you need it, Marshall’s old bedroom is open and you’re more than welcome to stay here tonight.”
Because I know better than to protest with the woman who stepped in as a mother figure for Jess and I all those years ago, I don’t. I nod and allow Jackie to get the rice bag. It stings when I press it to my jaw and I bite back a groan and a few choice words, my eyes sinking closed. I wasn’t lying about this not being the worst injury I’ve had in my line of work, but shoot. It’s been a little while.
Once my skin has started to adjust to the cold and the pressure, I open my eyes and regard Colin. He’s sitting in one of the big easy chairs with both feet firmly planted on the floor, his shoulders hunched as he stares at the mug in his lap. His hands are banded around it, but I can still see the tremors running through his body every couple minutes.
“I warned you not to get in the middle of it,” I say in a low voice.
Colin doesn’t look up, but I can see the black eye forming around his left eye anyway.
“Why didn’t you listen to me?”
He still says nothing.
“Look, Colin. I get it—You wanted to protect your mother. But do you have any idea what could’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten there when I did? If I hadn’t called backup on my way? He was armed with aloaded gun.There’s no room for anybody to add fuel to the fire in a situation like what happened this evening. I know you were probably just as upset as your dad was, but throwing a punch could’ve gotten you and your mom killed. I know what it feels like to be angry at my father, and you have every reason to be. But Itoldyou specifically not—”
“I would rather die than see him touch my mom!” Colin’s jerky movements as he stands makes liquid slosh over the edge of his mug, but he’s not fazed by the hot water on his skin. He sets it down on the coffee table, his eyes blazing when he looks at me. “You have no idea what it’s like to see your mom work two different jobs to pay the bills and put my siblings through college with my dad only paying child support for me part of the time. And that’ll end when I turn nineteen in November, so it wasn’t like anything could be done about it. You don’t know what it’s like to have your screwed up dad show up out of the blue every six months to a year, yelling at your mom to give him money or threatening beat the hell out of her if she doesn’t give him the money. It’s stupid of me to even have agreed to helping you with the house, because all I am is a screw-up. My parents weren’t planning on having me and my dad still hates that my mom followed through with the pregnancy. I’m the reason they got divorced, Seth. I’m the reason my dad is the way he is. It’s all because of me!”
“No, Colin, it’s not because of you.” My calm voice only irritates him more because he shoots me a glare and paces to the French doors. Bugs are swarming in the lights on the back deck, and the dark night sky reflects Colin’s black mood right now. “You are not the reason for your parents’ divorce and you sure as hell aren’t the reason for your father’s behavior since. Believe me, I’ve had the feelings you’re feeling. I was eleven when my father went to prison, and I still thought it was my fault. But it wasn’t.”
Colin’s quiet for several long minutes, staring out into the darkened backyard. I know how much tonight jarred him, and he has every right to feel what he’s feeling. To an extent. Having your father show up drunk and angry and armed, then watching him assault an officer, fight another officer, and be cuffed isn’t any small thing. Especially when your mother asked to have some time alone afterwards.
On one hand, I can’t blame Cynthia for wanting some space. It’s probably wise for both her and Colin’s sake that they both cool off considerably before talking about anything. On the flip side, I can see how it might also wound Colin further. He might hide it, but he can’t deny that his mom is his person. As someone who was once a mama’s boy and still misses his mom every day, I know what it’s like to feel responsible for someone you love that deeply.
“Colin, my mom died when I was eleven,” I say to the teen’s back. “And if I could have her back, even for just one day, I wouldn’t waste a minute of it. I don’t care what you say or try to tell me—You werenota screw-up, and you love your mother so much that you put yourself right between her and an armed drunk who happens to be your dad. And yeah, that irritates me because I directly told you to stay out of it. But you know what?”
Colin’s shoulders shake and he lifts one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, but he keeps his back turned to me.
Fine. He can be that way. I’ll play his game, but I’ll play it by my rules.
I stand up and cross to where he’s standing, which only makes his tears fall harder. “I would’ve done the same damn thing if it would’ve been my mother in that situation. It’s been twenty-two years since she died and there isn’t a single day that goes by that I don’t think about her.” My voice cracks and I have to look away for a moment, a salty tear landing on my upper lip. “She was my absolute favorite person in the world. Do you want to guess why she died?”
Finally, Colin looks at me, his eyes bloodshot and his face tear streaked. “Why?”
“Because a…” The words get stuck in my throat, and I exhale a slow breath, trying to rein my emotions in. “She died because her vehicle was struck by a drunk driver on a rainy night. He lived. She didn’t. You have no idea how many times I’ve wished it was me. I’ve cursed out God because he took my mom from me, I’ve cried because I wish I could just tell my mom I love her one more time, and I’ve wondered if somehow it was my fault.”
“She was lucky to have a son like you.”
“Colin, do you realize how lucky your mom is to have a son likeyou?”I place my hands on his shoulders, only leaning slightly to be eye level with him. “Your mom is so proud of you, and she should be. You can try to hide it under your tough boy exterior, but I know there’s a heart of gold in there somewhere. And trust me, so does your mother.”
A sob shakes the teen’s body as he puts his arms around me, his tired body sagging against mine. I close my eyes and I hold him while he cries, one single tear rolling down my own cheek, because I do. I miss my mother.
Maybe Sierra should’ve told me I couldn’t be a dad if I didn’t have my mother, because right now, I think that’s what hurts me the most.
The idea that my mother will never have the chance to meet Jenna, her kids, or any other children we might have.
And the knowledge that there’s nothing I can do to change it.
Chapter Forty-Six
Jenna
I’m pretty sure a statistic out there somewhere that says making Mexican food with the man you love while your kids run in and out of the house laughing and squealing is the best way to spend a Saturday night in August. I mean, who needs a bar or a 5-star restaurant or a body-shaping dress that makes you feel like a total boss woman when you can wear shorts and a swimsuit top after being in the sun most of the day? And I don’t mean to brag, but my chef is way better than any Michelin star chef in the world because he’s only wearing a pair of salmon-colored board shorts with a tropical dish towel slung over his shoulder,HUMMINGalong to Jason Mraz.
