Page 128 of Call You Mine
My head falls back as I let out a harsh exhale. “Mom,” I start, and the guilt I thought was dissolving threatens to come back, but I don’t let it. “You and I both know that I’ve spent the better part of my life helping you with anything you needed.” I pause, but she doesn’t say anything. “But it’s timefor me to put all that time and effort into my own life. I have a wife and a daughter and another one on the way.”
“What?” my mom says, and I barely make out the word as her voice softens to a whisper. “I didn’t know you had a daughter, or that your wife was pregnant.”
I sigh. “Because, Mom, when we talk, it’s usually about you or the boys.”
The line is silent, and I pull it from my ear to make sure the call is still connected.
“I don’t really know what to say,” she admits, but instead of feeling discouraged, I take this as the start of a necessary change in our relationship.
“Let’s leave it here for now. Maybe we can talk sometime next week. Call me when you have some time to chat, okay?” I don’t ignore the way our roles have become so reversed that I talk to her like I’m the parent and she’s the child. Or that she lets me.
“Okay, honey. Have a good rest of your night. I’m sorry I bothered you.”
“Goodnight, Mom,” I say, ignoring the way she tries to slip in the guilt trip.
Turning around to head back into Lenny’s, I feel lighter. The conversation was heavy in some ways, and it’s only the beginning of what I think needs to be a much bigger conversation—one that I don’t even know if my mom will be willing to have—but it’s a start.
As I open the door to the bar, I’m immediately met with chaos.
And my wife is right in the middle of it.
CHAPTER 46
AVA
In the wisewords of Emerson, life becomes easier when you just start traumatizing men back.
“I’ll take another round of shots here,” Letterman Jacket says, but I don’t even look up.
After saying hi to Luke and Annie and the rest of the crew hanging out by the end of the bar, I asked Emmett, Lenny’s owner and my former boss, for a little favor.
After quickly filling him in on the situation with Anderson and this dumbass still trying to get my attention, he let me behind the bar for old times’ sake. He’s close by, Luke, too, having remembered the last time I was involved with an altercation here at Lenny’s.
It involved not only my ex getting himself kicked out of the bar, but his brand new truck getting destroyed by Luke’s wife, Annie, with a baseball bat.
It was that night that I realized I needed to leave Jett. That I wasn’t going to keep being that shy, scared girl anymore—the one who let a man dictate my each and every move.
That night was the beginning of the end with Jett, and it feels like a very full-circle moment that I’m back behind the bar, but that version of myself is nowhere to be found.
“Are you deaf or are you just dumb, princess?” A voice booms, causing some heads to turn in my direction. I look up from the shots I’m pouring to find Letterman Jacket staring at me as if waiting for me to get down on my knees and apologize.
When I don’t say anything, he repeats himself. “I’ll take another round of shots here.” He slams his palm against the bar. “Now.”
I give him a smile, but it’s anything but nice. “You must be really thirsty tonight, huh?” I ask him, but his eyes go down to my chest—he doesn’t even try to hide it.
“You going to do something about it?” His smile is slimy, and I have to will my lips not to curl in disgust. It takes a lot to keep the smile on my face, pressing my elbows to the bar and leaning forward. He watches my movement, not even bothering to look anywhere but my boobs.
“Coming right up,” I purr, reaching for the soda gun like it’s second nature.
I aim it right for his face as I turn it on, shooting a stream of soda right into his face.
“What the fuck!” he yells, his hands coming to his face to wipe the liquid from his eyes, his steps faltering as he backs up, knocking into people left and right.
“Oops,” I feign innocence, shrugging my shoulders. “Sorry, it’s been a while.” I turn to look at Emmett, who gives me a subtle nod—he’s always reminded me a lot of Jack, a man of not so many words. Luke, on the other hand, comes over to me, raising a hand for a high-five. I slap my palm against his just as Letterman Jacket comes back up to the bar.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He looks at Luke and Emmett. “Who let this bitch behind the bar?”
“Hey!” a voice booms before either of them can intervene, and the crowd parts, revealing my husband—my veryangryhusband.
