Page 72 of Beautifully Broken


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I had a few more solo weekly dinners before Jay first came along. It gave Mom, Dad, and I, the time we needed beforehand to sort everything out.

Seeing Jay muster up the courage to go talk to his brother who he hadn’t seen in over half of his life, sort of made my nerves to talk to my own loving parents seem just a little bit unreasonable. So, I went over the week after that first trip Jay took and sat them both down.

I told them that I appreciated that they invested so much into me and that they put so much at stake for my education, but that their feelings about my future were not my responsibility. That my responsibility was to make sure that I don’t wake up every day and wish for a life that I could just as easily make for myself.

I thanked Mom for sacrificing everything for everyone else. I told her that I was glad that she was happy volunteering and helping other people, but that my hope for her was that she would slow down and make some time for herself. Maybe follow her own dream.

I told Dad that I understood the pressure that he was under to provide for his family. I told him I understood that the lack of attention he got from Grandpa was probably really hard on him, but that he didn’t need to fixate on everything I do for me to feel his love.

Both of them seemed to at least hear what I was saying. The comments and the nitpicking stopped with time, and I decided I was ready for them to meet Jay. My parents took to him surprisingly well considering a tall, tattooed, mechanic was probably not who they pictured for me. His brother even joined once when he came to pick up the Maverick. He and Jay spent most of that dinner cruising around in the car, but Jackson promised he’d bring it around next month when he comes to stay for longer.

As the weeks went on, everything seemed to be falling together. Even Dad came around to the whole writing idea, asking if he could be the firstto read my novel when it was finished. I think it helps that last week, I told them about my plan once summer ends.

I decided that I’m going to spend a lot of my free time writing the book, but that I’ll continue tutoring and may even pick up a few freelance jobs. Margie of all people, spoke at a school board meeting about the lack of variety in writing courses offered at the school, which her grandson Ben is apparently very gifted in. She suggested that “Ms. Dawson” return to lead a creative writing club every week after school. I got an email three days later from Principal Andrews asking if I would be interested in leading the club for a small stipend. I took the offer and just found out that it’s every Wednesday starting the first week of school.

Jay was, of course, supportive of whatever I decided to do. He’s reminded me constantly that a lot can go wrong in life, but anything that makes you happy just isn’t one of them. So, I decided I was going to be happy. And I learned that it doesn’t take much to make that happen.

“Claire, let’s go!” Jay calls from the kitchen.

I decide on the fate of Alice and Owen and slam my laptop shut. “Coming!”

I grab my phone and keys off the island realizing Jay is already halfway out the door.

“Shit!” I yell. “I forgot the—”

“Already got ‘em,” he says, pulling his arm back inside, revealing a white cardboard box withWhisk!stamped on top. “Stopped on my way home from work.”

I walk over to him, placing my hands on either side of his cheeks. “Home,” I say and kiss him hard, my forehead settling on his. “I like the sound of that.”

Epilogue

Jamison - One Year Later

“Can you grab the big serving tray off the shelf in the garage?” Claire asks, taking mini egg tart things off of the pan she just pulled from the oven.

“Sure,” I say quickly, shoving a third piece of nicotine gum into my mouth. Does it count as being “better for you” if you stress chew an entire row? I switched to the gum a few months ago but days like today definitely make me miss the real thing.

Claire puts down the tray and walks to me without taking her eyes off mine. “Hey, you okay? It’s just our friends and family, remember?”

“No, no, it’s not that.” Of course, I still have an occasional moment where the idea of socializing sends a chill up my spine, but at this point, I think it’s the same as anyone who just generally dislikes most people. “Just tired. Jackson and I got in late last night," I say. She nods and lifts the side of my shirt, exposing my ribs and fresh tattoo.

“It looks so good,” she says, running her finger around the outline of the Maverick that my brother and I both got permanently placed on our bodies last night. At this point, it’s so much more than a car. To us it's the reason we were brought back together after way too much time apart. To me, it's the reason I met Claire.

“Thanks, babe.”

“Hey, is Mel going to be able to make it?

“I don’t think so, but she told me she’s dying to meet you. Maybe we can get together another time soon.”

“Ooh, over monkey bread pancakes?” she begs.

I kiss her on the side of the head. “Whatever you want.” She smiles and then puts on herback-to-workface.

“Perfect,” she says. “But right now…I want the serving tray.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, walking towards the door.

The garage is detached so I have to walk through the backyard to get to it. The perfect excuse to put some distance between Claire and me and get these nerves under control.