Page 50 of Worth the Fight

“Well, word got around, and I sat up there, waiting for daylight, hoping that when she went through town, she’d see it. But the cops caught me first and threw me in jail. You wanna guess what your great-grandpa said?”

I never got to meet my great-grandpa. He had a sudden heart attack in his sixties and passed away, but I hear he was a lot like Grasyon. A man of few words, but a man who means what he says. A man that doesn’t tolerate ignorance or bullshit. “Did he bail you out of jail?”

“The police officer called him, and he said he’d bail me out once I sat there overnight. Said I must have needed some quiet time to think if I was stupid enough to do something like that.”

“Well, it must have worked, though, right? I mean, you and Gram have been together for so long.”

“Well, word got around town that I was arrested, and when I was released from jail early the next morning, she was standing in the parking lot waiting for me. I took her into my arms and told her that if she gave me another chance, I’d make sure that she knew how much she mattered to me. And I’d like to think I’ve held strong to that promise, Lukas.”

He finally turns away from the sunset, looking down at me on the stoop. “Even in the best relationships, people will make mistakes, whether those mistakes are from pure ignorance or anger or stupidity. But when you love someone, when you’re determined to hold onto them so tightly, you need to be able to move past those mistakes. You’ve never stopped loving Magnolia, I can see that clear as day, and I think if you keep persisting, if you do what I did and show her that you mean it, that you don’t want to live without her, I think she’ll start to come around.”

“So, you’re saying I should go to Paris and paint the Eiffel Tower?” I tease, and his responding grin is worth it.

“I’d do the same thing my daddy did and make you spend twenty-four hours in jail. Magnolia doesn’t strike me as the grand gesture type of girl. She doesn’t need crazy dramatics to get her back, because I think she wants someone strong and steady, someone who proves a little every day that they’re in it for the long haul, someone who has his mind, right?” He turns to look me in the eye. “Someone who knows they have demons, but is done giving into them.”

I nod at his words. Pops and I have never directly talked about what I was like when I came home. I don’t know if it was my paranoia, but when I still lived at the farmhouse with everyone, it felt like he was watching my every move. Counting beer bottles in the garbage even when I tried to hide them. He’d watch my steps a second longer than everyone else did, trying to catch my eye to make sure I was okay to drive.

When I moved out of the farmhouse and into my own apartment in town, I’d come to work some mornings still messed up from the night before. He’d take pause, watching me, and I don’t think I could have stomached it if he ever confronted me. I’m ashamed enough as it is. They all know what my self-destruction led to. They know that my siblings came to my rescue. They all saw the bandage I wore to cover the damage to my fist.

“I’m done with them,” I promise, both to him and myself, that there’s no more giving into them.

He claps once sternly and rests a hand on my shoulder, using the balance to stand. He takes the few steps down, seeming to head back to the UTV, but right before he reaches it, he stops, turning back to look at the farmhouse. “That’s what Magnolia needs to see, what she needs to know. Remind her why she fell in love with you in the first place. And once you have her back, son, don’t ever let her go.”

CHAPTER 26

Magnolia

JULY

Ayawn escapes me as I dig the spoon into my coffee grounds. I scoop out a dose and exhale, lips blowing an exaggerated raspberry. Man, I'm tired.

I roll my ankle around, grimacing when I try to stretch out my left foot. It was terribly swollen last night, and I could tell I tweaked it at some point during the performance. Thankfully, it lasted through the show, and I have the next two days to sort -of rest.

I peek at the clock, wondering if I have time to ice it before class today. My phone rings, and I press the lid back on my container of coffee grounds, reaching for the phone and answering, tucking it against my shoulder for balance.

“Hi, Nana.”

“How’s my favorite granddaughter?”

Shoving the coffee grounds back into the cabinet, I reach for the carafe, moving to the sink to fill it with water. “Good. Tired. Sore. The usual.”

“Sore?” Her voice hitches.

“I think I tweaked my foot again last night. Nothing major.”

“You’re off today, right? No practice or class?”

“I’m supposed to teach the junior ballerinas today, but it’ll be fine. I can ice my foot and rest this morning, and I’ll pull out my old brace for class today.”

She sighs, a little hint of annoyance in her voice. “I know you love to teach, sweetheart, but I wish you would use your rest days to actually rest. I worry about you.”

Nana has repeated this line in every conversation we have on my days off.

When Lukas and I broke up, I needed something to fill the void both in my heart and my schedule. My company normally gets a break from July to September, and I used to try to see Lukas or go home to Copper Ridge and spend a long vacation with my family. When we broke up, the idea of returning to Copper Ridge, to the town where I fell in love with him and a town that holds so many memories, was too painful.

Much to Nana's dismay, I volunteer my time to teach some classes for the junior ballet program. The same program I started out in when I first was accepted to the Paris Opera Ballet. I’m only about ten years older than most of the girls but seeing the passion they have and the skill they’re arriving with at such young ages still astounds me.

“I’ll be okay, I promise. And hey, I’m the one that should be saying I’m worrying about you.”