Page 108 of Lead Me On
“Grandma Olive.” She sighed.
“Where’s that big man of yours?”
“Chase is just a friend.”
“Pfft. Even I’d be tempted by a man like that, and you never said no to anything in your life.”
“Grandma,” Jane’s mom snapped. “Stop it.”
The old lady sniffed. “It’s just the truth.”
Jane had been hearing it for years, so she gritted her teeth and dropped into a recliner.
Her mom turned concerned eyes on her. “Are you doing okay? That ex-boyfriend hasn’t bothered you again?”
“No, I’m fine. He’s gone to stay with his parents in Fort Collins. I’m sure the D.A. will drop the charges, and once that happens, I don’t think he’ll be back.”
“Good,” her mom said, handing over a thick photo album. “Here, sweetie. Most of your pictures are in this one.”
Happy to avoid any further conversation about Greg or Chase, Jane cracked open the album. The first few pages were mostly pictures of Jessie as a baby, and she smiled as soon as she saw them. He’d been painfully adorable. It was easy to see how he’d wrapped their mother around his finger.
The pictures progressed, and Jane was there, grinning and stick-thin. In the summer pictures her hair was lightened by the strong mountain sun. The winter photos showed her wearing a collection of brightly colored knit caps, all of them topped with pom-poms. She’d forgotten those caps. Her mom had developed a passion for knitting, and Jane had been the number one benefactor.
“Mom, do you still knit?”
“Oh, my God, I haven’t knit anything in years!”
“You should try it again. You always looked so happy sitting in front of the TV with your yarn.”
“Oh, now I’m busy using Twitter. I can’t figure outLostwithout my Twitter friends. And I don’t have any reason to knit. Neither of you kids seem anywhere close to giving me grandbabies.”
Olive piped up. “That Jessie might end up with a kid sometime soon. ’Course, it’d be a bastard. But probably cute as hell.”
They both ignored her. Jane flipped through a few more pages, noticing the way her appearance began to change. She’d started getting curvy in the fourth grade but still had that bright glow of childhood. A few pages later a different Dynasty began to appear. This one had short hair and too much makeup. Her eyes still flashed, but the smiles were hard and flirtatious. Soon the smiles stopped altogether, replaced with pouting lips and narrowed eyes and hair bleached nearly white. The girl got taller and the clothes got shorter.
Jane snapped the book closed. She always felt as though regret were stitched into her skin, but looking at those photos, she could feel the string pulled tighter and tighter, as if the seams of her body might tear themselves apart at any moment.
She took a deep breath, telling herself it was all long past, but when the doorbell rang, Jane jumped as if she’d heard a shot fired.
“It’s the pizza!” her mom called, jumping up. “Mac! Pizza’s here.”
Jane pulled the DVD out of her purse and stuck it in the machine. Mac brought in the paper plates and pizza, and Jane sat next to him on the couch.
A movie, beer and pizza. Everyone settled in happily to watch the show. But all Jane could think about were the pictures. She’d been so…young. One minute she’d been a little girl, and the next minute she’d been throwing herself at boys…and men.
She’d known that already, but the pictures had shown her something else, something she hadn’t known.
At one point she’d been happy. Oh, not as a teenager, but before that…before that, she’d been happy.
In her mind she’d remembered those awful years of moving from town to town, prison to prison. She’d remembered the hard-eyed new “daddies” and the guards with guns. The thin walls of rented trailers and the roaches in the sink. But for a while there, after Mac had been freed and they’d become a real family…she’d beenhappy.
She’d had a family and a house and a real yard to play in. She’d had her own bedroom and a dad who actually lived at home with them. Schoolwork had come easily to her. She’d done well.
In those few short years, everything had been perfect.
How could she not have remembered?
Sipping her beer, Jane leaned her head against Mac’s shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t notice if a few tears soaked into his T-shirt. Her head was wobbly, and she needed her dad to lean against for a few minutes.
