Page 49 of The Lucky Heart (Jamison Valley 3)
“No, Wes didn’t break my heart.”
“Oh, I just assumed since you only came back after he had passed.”
I sighed. “I was scared. That’s why I didn’t come back. At first, I was so determined to prove to everyone that I could make it on my own. I was scared that if I came back, I’d look weak. Years went by. Then more. It just got easier to stay away.” It had been easier to ignore my mistakes rather than face them.
“It’s hard,” she said. “I’m sad, the way Wes’s life ended, but at the same time, I’m also glad because it brought you home.”
My nose started to sting and I swallowed the lump in my throat. Wes’s death had been tragic and senseless, but it had been my wake-up call. “Does it make me a horrible person that I’m grateful for his funeral?” Tears flooded my eyes as the words came out.
Mom stood and crossed the room, pulling me into her arms. “I don’t think grateful is the right word. How about this? You’ll always love and remember the good things he brought to your life. One of those was the chance to come home.”
I nodded and hugged her tighter. “I like that.”
I had loved Wes. We never would have made it long-term, but he had been my first everything, and for that, he’d always have a special place.
With one last squeeze, I let Mom go and wiped my eyes dry, then went back to cooking.
“You never said. Who broke your heart?” Mom asked while I slid the pork chops into the oven.
“Oh, I was just being hypothetical,” I lied. “No one broke my heart.”
My wounds were self-inflicted.
“Oh, Felicity!” Annie said. “Come in, come in! What are you doing here?”
I leaned in to give Annie a quick one-armed hug, balancing a stack of Christmas presents in the other. “Hi, I just wanted to drop these off.”
“You wonderful girl. You didn’t need to get us anything,” she said as I followed her inside.
“I wanted to.” I set three gift boxes on the kitchen island. “It’s nothing big, just a couple of little things I thought you and Jack would enjoy, and I got a present for Mason too. It’s a Lego set.”
“Thank you, he’ll love it. You’re too sweet. How have you been?”
“I’m doing well. You? I was thinking about you last week.”
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nbsp; “Thanks.” Her eyes glistened. Last week had marked the two-year anniversary of Wes’s death.
“I should have called or . . . stopped by. I just wasn’t sure if you’d want company.”
“You are always welcome here.” She sniffled and dried the corner of an eye. “And we’re doing okay. It was a sad day but we tried to make the best of it. We took Mason sledding and then to a movie. Jack and I each spent a little time visiting Wes’s grave. It helps us both to talk to him, to speak our feelings out loud. I’m not sure if he can hear us, but it gives me some peace. If he can hear me, I want him to know that I’ll always love him.”
“I can understand that.”
“How about some coffee?” I nodded and, with steaming mugs in hand, we wandered to the living room. “What are your plans for Christmas?”
I took a sip and set my mug down. “Mom and I are going over to the farmhouse. Gigi pulls out all the stops for her holiday meals so I’m sure I’ll stuff myself to the brim and waddle home. What about you?”
“Mason has had so few real Christmases that we’re planning a big ordeal for him here. Jack has gone, shall we say, completely off the rails. See those gifts there?” She pointed to the enormous stack of presents under their tree. “There’s another pile from Santa just as big hidden away upstairs. Mason doesn’t even believe in Santa.”
“Oh, lordy,” I muttered and we both laughed.
Thankfully, the awkwardness from my first dinner here was gone, and for the next hour, Annie and I visited about the farm. She told me about the changes she and Jack had made the last few years so it would be more manageable as they got older. Their plan had always been to pass the farm down to Wes, but now they were just hoping to keep it running until Mason was older and could decide if he wanted it for himself.
But the more she talked, the more my heart hurt for her. Wes’s life hadn’t been the only one drastically changed by his drug use. Had he ever realized how much he’d hurt those who loved him? Jack and Annie had had hopes and dreams for Wes. They’d planned to leave him their legacy.
If he were alive, I wouldn’t know whether to punch him for being so selfish or hug him and say I was sorry. Probably both.
