* * *
“So, you’re tellin’ me I don’t have any grandparents left?” Jack asked, dribbles of watermelon still dripping off his chin as we finished what was left of our picnic.
“Well…” Augusta put an arm around Jack, ruffling the short spikes of his new haircut, something “cool” for baseball, he’d requested. “Life can be unfair sometimes, buddy.”
His eyes tracked from mine across the picnic table to Calvin’s and then finally landed on Augusta’s. “But I don’t understand. Dad showed me that picture. I had a grandpa, he knew about me.”
I swallowed the burn blazing a trail down my throat. I wished I had something to tell him, some consolation for the fact that sometimes people just weren’t nice. That was all I could ever come up with to explain the awfulness of the world anyway.
“I don’t know why he chose to do what he did, Jack,” Augusta finally offered.
“I bet not a day went by he didn’t regret it, son. And what have we always told you?” Calvin’s eyes held steady on Jack’s.
“That sometimes people just aren’t ready to raise a baby,” Jack recited.
I chewed on my bottom lip, wishing I had more to give. “It’s true, Jack,” I finally murmured. “Augusta Belle and I, well, we weren’t in any place to have a baby. And maybe life coulda been different, but who’s sayin’ life woulda been any better if we had? I’ve spent a lot of my life wishin’ I could change the past, and it was a lotta life wasted.” I pressed a hand on his back. “I’m not about to waste any more of that time.”
Jack frowned but nodded with reluctant understanding.
“The truth is”—Augusta’s eyes bounced from Calvin’s then to Jack—“my parents…your grandparents…well, I believe they thought they were doin’ what was best.” She knocked shoulders with our boy. “But I know for sure they wish they could be here now, watching you hit home runs with the Eagles and swimming like a star.”
He turned up his face, eyes catching the sun and glowing. “I want to go to Tennessee someday, see the ridge, and the river you used to swim in. I want to see the house too.”
My heart thrummed quicker with his words, the idea of bringing him home to Chickasaw, showin’ him all those places that were the backdrop of Augusta’s and my story… I didn’t know if I had the heart to relive it all, especially through his young eyes.
“Maybe someday, pal.” Augusta grinned. “How’s about right now we clean up and then head downtown for some ice cream?”
“Can we, Dad?” Jack asked Calvin.
He nodded. “Home by dark, though. You’ve got one more day of school before the weekend.”
“Ugh. Can’t I stay with Fallon ’n’ Augusta?” His little Southern drawl was more noticeable in the evening when he was tired. Reminded me of Augusta even more with that twang.
“We don’t really have a good situation set up for sleepovers, buddy.” Augusta glanced at Calvin. “That hotel is close, but there isn’t much room…”
“I can sleep on the floor. I don’t care!”
“That’s definitely not happening,” I announced, a little repulsed. “Maybe we could find something bigger to rent for the weekend?”
Calvin shook his head, patting Jack on the shoulder. “Maybe someday, buddy, but you best be movin’ on that ice cream if you want to get there before they close.”
Jack slipped his hand into Augusta’s, her cheeks warming as a slow smile crossed her lips at his contact.
I sucked in a breath, thoughts of what the world held for us as we took off for the sidewalk, sights set on ice cream, my mind a blur with possibilities.
THIRTY-ONE
Augusta
Dawn light shone through the faded blinds of the motel window, my eyes fluttering open just as Fallon’s heavy palm made contact with the sensitive underside of my knees. He dusted his nose along the edge, grazing my thigh before his teeth nipped at the waistband of my panties and yanked, eliciting a squeal from my lips.
“Mornin’, sunshine. I’m hungry for breakfast, and I want all three courses between your thighs.” He caged me in his arms, the gravelly timbre of his voice sending my stomach spiraling.
This man. His words.
He’d been undoing me from the start with his words.
I arched beneath him, his heavy hands roaming up my torso before one palm cupped at my breast, thumb tracing my nipple as he slipped the other hand down the back of my panties and pushed them down my cheeks.
