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“I love your hair,” I murmured, aware I was going off course with my thought process but wanting to change the subject away from talking about my mom and dad. “I wonder if Charlie’s hair will be the same as yours.” I tucked Jax’s wayward red curls behind his ear, the softness of them spiraling around my fingers.
Jax shook his head a little.
“Don’t change the subject, Mr. Marshall.”
“I wasn’t.” I slid a little deeper into the sofa, and hated the focus being on me.
Jax snuggled into me, Charlie between us now, staring at his hands as if he’d only just discovered them. “What did you do if Sutton cried? Or if Trace acted out because the grief was too much?”
“We handled it as a team.”
“You hugged them and told them it would all be okay.”
“Of course.”
Jax paused. “But did they hugyouand tellyoueverything would be okay?”
“We hugged,” I said, defensively, carding my fingers in Jax’s hair to pull him down for a kiss. I didn’t enjoy talking about the grief, because it knotted in my chest, and it mingled with the loneliness. Sometimes, it cut so deep I could have sobbed like a freaking baby. Today was my birthday, and I was in love, and I was going to be partner in a business, and I was moving forward to sell my parents’ home, and I wasn’t broken about it at all. The kiss was lazy, and long enough that the lump in my chest eased, but then, Jax broke away. He settled Charlie on his colorful mat on the floor and touched the mobile above him so it spun in slow circles. He played with him for a few minutes, until Charlie got fed up with raspberries on his tummy and focused, instead, on the animals circling above him. Then, in a smooth move Jax was back. He straddled my lap, burrowed his face in my neck, and dug his hands around me until they were linked behind my back. He wriggled some more, and I enjoyed the direction this was going. Maybe sexy times on my birthday would shove aside the shadows of loneliness I had going on.
Then, Jax sighed and wriggled one last time.
“This is a hug for all the times you didn’t get one from Trace and Sutton,” he whispered against my skin. “I know you call yourself just their brother, and I know for sure that family takes care of each other, no matter what.” I sensed there was abut,and I was right. “But you need a hug, and you need to know it’s okay to be sad they’ve left home, and that you have all this space now to grieve.”
“But I have you. I should be happy.” My heart cracked, my throat tight with emotion. I laced my hands on his back, tugging him close until he smothered me like a heavy blanket. My choices had never been driven by obligation. I’d wanted Trace and Sutton to have a chance at the future Mom and Dad had envisioned for them, even if it meant sacrificing some of my own dreams along the way. I’d made that decision.
Tears gathered in my eyes, and I slid my hands up to anchor in Jax’s hair. It was so impossibly soft, and I lost myself in the grief for a moment, simply because Jax gave me the space to do that. He didn’t tell me to cheer up; he didn’t try to fix anything; he just let me cry on my birthday; and he held me, and didn’t say a word.
And I loved him for that.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Jax
It had beena week since Arlo’s birthday, and the conversation we’d had about grief had been another step in our journey to this relationship we were creating. The part about being lonely was a sadness, the grief was overwhelming, but in the next few days, we’d fallen into a routine where we hugged, kissed, made love, and talked about everything. I didn’t have an answer to his feelings of loneliness, but I gave him space to be lonely if he needed it. I couldn’t seem to get him to see it was okay to feel loss, but as the days passed, he brightened, and I hoped my gentle insistence that every feeling he had was valid meant something to him.
He didn’t even pretend he needed to go home at night, and the only reason he visited every so often, was for Panda, whoapparentlymissed him. Actually, it was less about Panda, and more about clean clothes, his Kindle, his favorite paring knife, and his fluffiest towels. The day I found his T-shirts mixed in with mine was a perfect shining moment that meant absolutely everything, which I knew was weird, but hell, I was tumbling free fall into love, so I didn’t care.
This weekend was my turn to have the girls, and Arlo had decided he was staying away for most of the day—visiting Panda—even though I said it wasn’t necessary. He just winked and kissed me goodbye, and reassured us he was coming back in time to go tree shopping.
Today had been all about the girls and Charlie, who seemed to be fascinated by each other. India and Iris both on the mat, staring up at the mobile and sharing picture books. Of course, I was down there as well, doing stupid voices, and enjoying every second of it, but there was something missing, and his name was Arlo.
“Can we get the biggerest hugemist tree in the whole place?” India asked, clutching her copy ofHairy Maclary.
“We need to get one that fits inside the house,” I explained, but they were way too excited to comprehend the limits of space.
“We could have one that is hundreds and hundreds tall and tall,” Iris agreed with her sister. Given I wasn’t sure whether they understood how big that was, I wisely decided to stay silent, and hoped they’d compromise on something around six feet that wouldn’t consume all the space in the sunroom.
“We could climb it to the giant!” India pointed out.
Yep, staying silent was a good thing.
The sun was settingacross the Christmas tree farm as I walked hand in hand with Arlo among the evergreens. Iris and India giggled as they ran among the trees, their laughter mixing with the distant sound of festive music. San Diego might not have offered a white Christmas, but with the snow machine working its magic, albeit with flakes that disappeared fast, it felt close to the real thing. The girls were ecstatic, dancing around in the icy snow, their cheeks flushed with excitement.
Charlie, snuggled against my chest in a baby carrier, had wide eyes taking in the movement and lights around him, and a big part of me ached that his dad wasn’t here to see Charlie’s first Christmas tree, although Arlo took photos and video he’d be able to see when he came back.
If he comes back.
Arlo squeezed my hand, his eyes sparkling brighter than the lights strung around the farm. It still amazed me how he’d seamlessly become a component of every part of my family chaos, and his smile was so damn wide.
