Forever Starts Tonight (Wilder Family #4)

Chapter 25

Poppy

“This looks like a very serious endeavor.”

At the sound of my mom’s voice, I closed my eyes, clutching the notebook to my chest.

An hour of staring at it, at all the things I’d written down hadn’t given me the peace I quite needed.

Prying my fingers away from the metal spiral edge, I glanced down at the neatly written letters in silver pencil lead. It didn’t matter how decisively I’d written each one, how precise the curves and lines of each word were.

Down to my bones, it felt like I was still waiting for a piece to click into place, something just out of reach.

“You know when something feels like it should be an easy decision, but once it actually comes down to making it, it’s really freaking hard?”

With a thoughtful hum, Mom eased herself into the chair next to mine on the front porch. Instead of looking at me, she focused her attention out into the yard. “That sounds pretty familiar, kiddo. Want to talk through what you’ve got on that list there?”

Handing it over to her was harder than I thought, so for now, I kept it tight in my grip. “Jax showed me a house this morning,” I said quietly. “It’s his friend’s or something. ”

“Ahh.” Her eyes tracked over my face. “Did you like it?”

My throat was thick as I nodded slowly.

“Is the rent fair?”

Again, I nodded. “Cheaper than I expected. And I have about a million questions about why he’s the one showing it and where his friend lives, and…” I blew out a slow breath. “It’s bizarre to realize that a man I’ve crushed on for half my life can be really, genuinely surprising after all this time.”

Mom laughed. “Poppy, that’s a beautiful thing, isn’t it? Everyone in our life has the capacity to surprise us. We don’t walk around with signs on our backs explaining why we are the way we are, all the details that make for a single, complicated person.”

“We should. That would be so much easier.”

“I don’t think you mean that,” she said sagely. “I think because it’s him, it’s making you feel differently.”

“I can’t figure out if his involvement makes things better or worse,” I admitted. “There’s something I can’t put my finger on.”

Mom tilted her head. “Like what?”

My fingers played with the edge of the paper. “You’ve known Jax as long as Cameron has.”

She nodded, brows slightly lowered. “Of course. I remember the first time he came to our house. Serious,” she said. “Very polite. Reserved, of course.”

“I thought about stopping by Cameron’s to ask him some questions,” I said. “But I already know he won’t tell me anything good.”

Mom laughed easily. “And you know why.”

“I do.” My lips pushed out in a slight pout. “Because I should let Jax tell me.”

“And this is information you need in order to make a decision about this house?”

This was harder to put into words, harder to put down on a concise list, but my heart screamed it all the same, jumbled thoughts and a whisper-thin kind of feeling that I couldn’t nail down.

“He’s already everywhere.” I ran my hand through my hair and sighed. Inside my belly, the little nugget rolled, and my lips ghosted up in a smile. “And I can’t figure this out, you know? Can’t figure him out. He’s got this house he takes care of for his friend? No one ever knew about it. Or at least I didn’t.”

“I didn’t either.”

“Jax is still this walking mystery that I want to solve more than anything.” God, that hurt coming out. Even after all this, after all the ways I’d worked to have a healthy, balanced relationship with him, he was this living, breathing ghost—something strong and vital and so very alive—that wouldn’t stop haunting me. “I can’t help it. The things he says and does, I know there’s so much more to him than he wants to let on. I think he’s afraid to be a dad, but he doesn’t want to say it out loud,” I told her.

“That’s a justifiable fear,” Mom said. “Being a parent is terrifying. I remember when I left the hospital with Erik. He was tiny, and they just … let me walk right out the doors, assuming I knew what the hell I was doing.”

I laughed quietly. “I think he’s afraid I’ll judge him for saying it. He seems to watch his reactions very carefully around me, especially since he proposed.”

“Not his best idea,” Mom said with a wry smile. She took a slow sip of her iced tea, rocking her chair back and forth with a simple push of her foot on the ground. “So that’s one of your cons?” she asked. “The fact that he’s the one watching the house?”

“That’s somewhere in the middle.” Staring down at the list again, I shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“What else?” she asked gently. Even without saying another word, of course she knew there was more. I’d never quite understood how they did it, but my parents had this eerie knack for seeing the truth written all over their kids faces. No matter what we got into, no matter what harebrained plans we came up with, no matter what was weighing on our hearts, they could take one look at us and know.

Would I be able to do that?

God, I hoped I could. I hope that was something stamped in my genes, like the hair color from my mom and the smile I got from my dad.

Chewing on my bottom lip, emotions clogging my chest, I handed her the notebook and waited for her to skim through my list.

Pros

Location

Rent is perfect

The house is beautiful

Big backyard

Undecided

Jax’s involvement?

Cons

Leaving Mom alone

“Oh honey,” she said, her eyes glossing over. “You can’t pass this up because of me.”

“When I think about you alone in this big house, I can hardly take it,” I whispered back, voice full of tears. “I don’t want to be the reason you’re sad.”

A single tear slid down her cheek as she turned, clutching my hand with hers. “I won’t be,” she said fiercely. “You haven’t brought me a single moment of sadness since the moment I knew you existed, sweet girl. And that won’t change, not as long as I live.”

“Are you sure?” Hope swelled dangerously, a sweet and cool relief mixed with the bittersweet feeling of inevitable change.

“I’ll miss you,” she admitted, tears falling more freely. “ You know I love seeing your face every morning. You’ve taken such good care of me in the last year. I hope you know that. But taking care of you is the most important thing now.”

“Everything’s changing,” I said, voice catching on a sob that threatened to break free.

She leaned forward and cupped the side of my face, swiping her thumb at the tears that coursed down my cheeks. “Life is supposed to change, Poppy. We’re supposed to change with it, too. And I would never expect you or any of your siblings to pass up something meant for you, not because of me. Your dad wouldn’t have either.”

“I know.” I sniffed loudly, dashing a hand over my cheeks.

“Is this what was making it so hard for you?” she asked.

Slowly, I nodded.

As she handed the notebook back, she hummed. “I understand more than you know, sweetheart. The hard decision that should be really easy.”

Studying Mom’s profile, I tried to straighten out my thoughts before I spoke again. “When did that happen to you?”

Her smile was immediate—soft and a little sad. “Giving your father a chance when we first met.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. We had more baggage than a 747, Poppy. He buried a wife he loved, all while taking care of those three boys. I had a husband walk out on me and three young kids. You know how hard it is to trust someone with your heart when it’s already been crushed?”

I angled in my seat to face her more fully, leaning my head against the back of the chair. “But you still did it, even if you knew.”

“He was pretty impossible to resist,” she said, voice wavering slightly. “But I did. Even if it was crazy, and even if it didn’t make sense to anyone else.” She tapped her temple. “My head was the thing telling me to be careful. Telling me I might get hurt again.” She tapped her chest. “But in here, I knew he was exactly what I wanted. This is the thing we need to listen to with these big, scary, should-be-easy decisions.” Mom searched my face. “This isn’t really about the house, is it?”

Slowly, I shook my head. “I don’t mind the idea of change,” I told her. “We’ve had enough of it in our lives. And I know the house is perfect. Staying home always made me feel like I’d never quite grown up. I feel good knowing I can do this, and make a home for baby. I can provide for us, even if I’m getting help along the way.” My eyes closed firmly. “I finally feel like I know what I’m doing in life, you know? My job, the baby, and now this. “

“But…”

My stomach somersaulted over the question I was trying to answer with no real clarity and no real exit plan. “What if … what if after all this time—being heartsick over him for so long, telling myself that it was just one night, and trying to be friends—what if he’s the one thing I can never outgrow? If I’ll sit here and watch him leave over and over again, disappear when I least expect it, and I wait and wait and wait for him to want something more?” Tears slid silently down my cheeks. “Why is it so hard not to feel anything for him? It should be easy.”

Mom made a small tsking sound with her tongue. “That’s your problem, honey. Those should’ves will drive you crazy, and you need to let those stay in the past where they belong.”

My eyes rose to hers. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think you want someone easy to love, Poppy.” She held my gaze, open and honest and the slightest hint of challenge. “Of all my kids, you and Cameron are the most alike. Not only do you have supernatural patience, but I think you want the challenge, like he did with Ivy. You want to love someone who won’t open easily because you are the kind of person who knows exactly what’s waiting underneath when they do. Probably better than that person knows, actually.” She leaned forward and set her hand over mine, gripping my fingers tight. “You’ve always known what’s inside that man, and maybe I can see that more easily than the rest because I’m old, and I’ve had so many years to watch how people love, what happens when they run scared, and what happens when they don’t. It takes incredible strength to look someone’s fears in the face and decide to love them anyway,” she said, her eyes firmly on mine, and I felt that eye contact rip through my skin. “As a friend. Or more.”

Chewing on my bottom lip, I stared down at the notebook in my lap and tried to filter through what was happening in my heart, that stubborn organ that went in direct contradiction to my much more logical head.

“Can you love him as a friend or more, knowing what’s underneath?” she asked. “Can you figure out a way to co-parent with him through that too, knowing he might never face the fears that hold him back?”

Mom didn’t wait for an answer. She merely smiled at whatever she saw on my face as she stood from the chair. She paused to plant a kiss on the top of my head.

“And don’t worry, I’ll find a use for your room before the last box is packed,” she whispered.

Through my quiet tears, I managed to laugh. Waiting for them to ebb, I finally set the notebook down on the side table and swapped it out for my phone.

I pulled up Jax’s number and carefully tapped out a message.