Forever Starts Tonight (Wilder Family #4)

Chapter 29

Jax

If this Monday didn’t feel long enough, the two idiots on either side of me were determined to make it feel ten times longer.

“She text you back?”

Rob nodded, tossing his phone to Dipshit. “Acted like she hadn’t ghosted me for the whole fucking week.”

Next to me, Wade sighed. Heavily. I pressed the nail gun to the frame, hitting the trigger three times as quickly as possible.

I’d nail every square inch of the framing if it would drown out the sound of the voices.

Dipshit glanced at the phone and whistled. “That’s what she said?”

Rob gave him a look. “You see what I said back?”

“Bro .”

I growled, slamming the nail gun down onto the work horse. “If you two don’t zip it, I’m going to staple your mouths shut.”

Dipshit’s eyebrows shot up. “That feels like an excessive reaction.”

“I just want to get our work done, and you two never stop talking,” I yelled.

Rob leaned closer to Dipshit. “He’s been in a bad mood the past few weeks. You missed a lot before you got hired.”

“What did I just say, kid?” I snapped.

Rob grinned. “He came home from this big long trip because he gets four times more vacation than the rest of us, found out he’s gonna be a daddy with the boss’s sister, and his panties have been in a wad ever since.”

Dipshit’s eyes widened. “Greer?”

Wade muttered something under his breath. I slicked my tongue over my teeth, pinning him with a glare so potent that I hoped it shriveled his balls.

Rob burst out laughing. “Can you imagine?” He wiped at an imaginary tear under his eye, then shook his head. “The other one. The one who was here last week.”

“No cap?” Dipshit asked.

Wade’s brow furrowed. “ No cap ? What does that mean?” He looked at me for clarity. “Last week, they said Ian had a great flow, and I don’t know what that means either, but it makes me want to gouge my eyes out when I hear it.”

“Hair, man,” Dipshit said. “It means his hair.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I swear, you two have a death wish.”

Dipshit ignored me, looking suitably impressed at what he’d just discovered. “Poppy, huh?”

“I know, right,” Rob said knowingly.

“Fucking legend.” Dipshit gave me an appraising glance. “Banged the boss’s little sister, huh?”

Chest roaring, I took a step forward. “You say one thing about her, and I will make you spit nails for a week.”

He held up his hands. “Hey, more power to you. She’s hot.”

“What did I just say?” I yelled.

“It’s a compliment,” he said, backing up defensively.

“Didn’t feel like one,” I growled. “How about you go work elsewhere right now? ”

Instead, he leaned up against the wall and gave me a head-to-toe study. “You seem to get very angry when the subject of Poppy comes up.”

Wade flicked him a pointed look. “I think he gets this angry every time you open your mouth actually.”

I took in a deep breath. Three more hours. I could keep my composure for three more hours. Dipshit nodded his head like my reaction was giving him all the information he needed. “I know exactly what’s happening here.” He glanced at Wade meaningfully. “My mom’s a spiritual healer.”

“I can’t do it, Wade.” I dropped my chin to my chest in defeat. “Make it stop.”

Wade didn’t make it stop. He couldn’t . It was like a runaway fucking train, and at this point, I’d step in front of that train just to make this entire conversation go away.

“Do you feel like something in your life is out of alignment? Like, with the universe.”

Rob nodded, face serious. “That makes a lot of sense actually. He’s never happy.”

I leveled him with another glare and snatched the nail gun off the table again. “Are you still talking?”

Dipshit looked between Wade and Rob. “It’s more common than you think. Our bodies are a walking energy field. When our vibrations are low, we seek control in the wrong places, feel stress and anxiety and depression. But if you simply shift your thoughts,” he said, laying a hand on my shoulder, “you can manifest the life you want once you’re back in vibrational alignment.”

Lifting my chin slowly, I held his gaze. “What’s your name again, Dipshit?”

He smiled. “It’s Trevor.”

“Trevor?” I said slowly.

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t take your hand off my shoulder, I will break it. ”

Smile fading, Trevor swallowed, carefully retracting the grip he had on my arm.

“Thank you,” I told him calmly. “Can we get back to work now?”

The two of them moved away, thank God, and Wade snickered under his breath.

“What are you laughing at? You’re probably vibrating at the wrong frequency too, old man.”

Before he could answer, my phone rang where it was tucked into my back pocket. A familiar number popped up, and I stepped out of earshot before I answered.

“This is Jax.”

“Jax, it’s Molly over at Mountainside Living Center. Is this a good time?”

Rolling my neck until it cracked, I walked a few steps farther away from any of my coworkers. “Yeah, go ahead. He okay?”

“That’s why I’m calling, actually. He’s having a really good day today.” My heart rate spiked when she paused. “He asked about you just now. Thought maybe I’d see if you had time to come for a visit.”

It hardly registered that I told Wade I had to leave, and I ignored the shocked looks on everyone’s faces, but I was jogging out to my truck as soon as I hung up the phone, blood humming with a strange mix of anticipation and apprehension.

The drive to the living center was one I hadn’t taken in a long time, and the lush, green scenery passed in a blur, the silence in my truck a welcome reprieve from all the noise in my head—thoughts of almost kisses and forgotten conversations, of how fears lock down the rest of our world when we hardly even realize it.

Tucked back behind some towering trees, the brick covered building came into view, tall wooden beams holding up the covered portico that led to the locked entrance. I cranked the steering wheel into a spot at the back of the half-empty parking lot. A Monday afternoon wasn’t a very popular time for a visit, and even though I’d been sitting for the better part of half an hour, I was completely out of breath while I waited for someone to buzz me inside the second set of doors.

Molly, the charge nurse for Henry’s unit, lifted her head from where she was standing in front of a med cart, her wide smile setting something at ease in my chest. “Goodness, you didn’t waste any time.”

Vaguely, I shook my head. “How’s he doing? Besides the good day.”

She leaned against the cart with a rueful smile. “That man is as healthy as a horse. He’ll probably outlive both of us.”

Exhaling a quiet sigh of relief, I nodded. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here since I got back. It’s been … I’ve had a lot going on.”

She waved that off, tucking her long braids behind her shoulder. “He did just fine while you were gone. We never needed that emergency number, so don’t you even worry.”

The last few times I was here, my presence seemed to agitate him more than anything, my visits thinning out because making it worse, even if he didn’t understand why, was something I couldn’t handle. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at me with even the slightest flicker of recognition. At least four years.

Glancing around the other residents in the dining room, I noticed quickly that Henry wasn’t among them. Around the corner from the nurses’ desk, the big space split off into two distinct rooms. One was the gathering area for large groups, with couches and chairs, and a big TV mounted on the wall with a piano set in the corner. Off to the other side, there was a room full of activity stations—almost like what you’d see for kids to be able to play make-believe.

But instead, this was for the residents, allowing them a space to do a job, something that made them feel good, feel needed and feel important. A woman wearing a bright red dress and matching lipstick sat in a rocking chair with a baby doll in her arms, patting the doll’s back like she was trying to burp her after a meal. To her right was a changing table and a small bin of toys, like she was sitting in a nursery.

Empty today, but someplace I’d often found Henry was a worktable like you’d find in a garage—realistic-looking tools lining the pegboard wall, things he loved to tinker with, imaginary items he could fix.

Just to the side of that was a small office setup, and I recognized the Black gentleman sitting at the desk, shuffling through papers and using a large calculator. His frizzy white hair was longer than it was last time I was here, and just like the time before, he was sharply dressed—a crisp press to his white dress shirt, expensive looking suspenders and a smart bow tie around his neck.

It was Molly’s uncle, and she told me once he used to be a high-profile prosecutor, then a circuit county judge.

He looked up at my entrance and smiled, heavy wrinkles bracketing his friendly eyes. “Do we have a meeting, young man?”

“Not today,” I told him. “But I know you’re a busy man.”

His nod was slow, his eyes going distant for a moment. “Indeed, indeed.”

Molly smiled at her uncle, then set her hand on my arm and tilted her head down the hallway that led to a securely fenced yard. “Henry’s back there.”

“Thank you,” I told her.

With a gentle, understanding smile, she patted my arm. “Let me know if you need anything.”

The rooms were quiet as I passed, only the occasional hum of a television show or some low level conversation filtering through opened doors. Each room looked like its own small front porch. Fake plants and flowers in big pots sat in front; a different color on each door made it look cheery and welcoming. Number seven—Henry’s room—had a bright red door, something I’d asked for before he moved in because I hoped he’d recognize it from his old house. The flowers I’d brought before I left for Spain still looked fresh and new, and I let out a deep breath as I passed by, approaching the door to the outside space. A nurse’s aide was walking with him, holding on this arm and pointing out things beyond the tall black iron fence.

He was nodding, and the clench in my chest grew when he tipped his chin up and laughed at something she said. There were only small whisps of white hair left on the top of his head, combed over in a neat line. Even though it was warm and sunny out, Henry wore a maroon cardigan over a blue dress shirt, his khaki pants hemmed to perfection over his brown leather dress shoes.

When I opened the door to join them, Henry glanced over his shoulder, his brow furrowing slightly. My heart was in my throat while I took slow steps in their direction, fixing my face into a pleasant sort of neutral, just in case the earlier moments of lucidity had ebbed.

“Nice afternoon, isn’t it, Mr. Emerson?” I asked.

“Beautiful,” Henry said, still staring at me with slightly curious eyes.

I let out a quiet exhale, relief easing some of the pressure under my ribs. We were already off to a better start than my last few visits. I gave the aide a slight nod, and she withdrew her arm from Henry’s to give us a bit of space.

“You’ve got a nice view here,” I told him, easing my hands into my pockets and standing shoulder to shoulder with him. “I like all those flowers.”

Henry wasn’t looking at the flowers, though. He was staring at me.

“I know you, don’t I?”

A big, unnamed emotion trembled and groaned under the weight of this interaction, and I managed a slight nod. “You do,” I said, risking that piece of information because of how much I missed him.

Briefly, he looked away, staring sightlessly at the beautiful meadow beyond the edge of the fence. “You’re a lot bigger now, little pup.”

The nickname hit me like a blow to my sternum, and I swiped a hand over my mouth, trying to contain the aching sound of relief before it escaped in a messy sob. It took a moment before I could look at him safely. “A bit, yeah,” I managed.

Henry turned, settling his hand on my shoulder. “You still keeping my car clean? Keeping the house nice?”

I attempted a short nod, but a tear escaped before I could stop it. I cleared my throat and looked away, dashing a palm under my eye so he didn’t notice. “Got someone new that moved in a couple of days ago,” I told him.

“Family?”

“A woman about to have her first baby,” I said, my voice tight with everything I was keeping on a trembling, taxed sort of leash. “You’d like her a lot.”

“Good,” he said. “That’s good. That house needs someone to love it.”

“She will,” I whispered. “She’ll make it a home. Did the moment she walked in.”

“She pretty?”

“Beautiful,” I told him. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

His eyes were cloudier now than they used to be, surrounded by deep wrinkles and age spots, but when he turned them on me, I felt so stripped bare that suddenly I wanted to hide.

“Does that scare you, little pup?” he asked, as lucid as I’d seen him in years.

How badly I wanted to keep that admission buried, like letting it be said to someone somehow gave it more power .

“Terrifies me to the fucking bone, Henry.”

His slow nod made me feel like that was the answer he expected.

“Probably means she’s important then. The important ones always do that to you.” He shuffled closer to the fence, wrapping one hand around the black iron, staring at those flowers like he used to when we played checkers out on his back deck. “I had someone like that once, I think. She left before I could tell her. Married someone else.”

“You did?” I asked, head spinning. I knew better than to ask why he never told me before. These bursts of lucidity were few and far between, a mysterious, confusing gift of time that I knew better than to question.

He blinked a few times, and I fought the urge to push.

“You give her flowers when she moved in?” he asked. “Women like flowers.”

“Not yet.” My throat was scratchy and dry, my eyes felt like someone raked them with twenty grit sandpaper. “You think I should?”

“Good ones, too,” he said. “Those pretty wild ones that you can’t get in a store.”

“I know just the kind.”

His hand shook slightly as he removed it from the fence. “I have a field behind my house,” he said. “Do you know where it is?”

I dropped my chin to my chest and fought for composure, unable to look up again until I could unclench my teeth and breathe through the pain of watching him slip away again. “I think so, yeah.”

Distractedly, he nodded. “Good. That’s good.”

Tipping my head up, I stared at the blue sky until my eyes burned.

“You shouldn’t be scared of her, you know,” Henry said quietly. “Whoever she is. ”

Rubbing the back of my neck, I gave him a long look. “No?”

“Nah. Because if you’re this scared, then she probably is too.” He tapped a finger to his nose. “That’s the key to knowing. We only run scared from the things that matter. And every time we do, they just get bigger in our minds until we can’t see anything past that. Until you wake up one day and realize that whatever you’re afraid of isn’t bigger than the thing you want. Don’t have that moment too late, Jax. Believe me.”

The sound of my name on his lips had me pinching my eyes shut, the frame of my body trembling dangerously as I tried to keep everything in.

“You’re always right, Henry,” I told him when I managed to open them again to look at him. And even though this terrified me to the fucking bone too, I set a hand on his shoulder. “You mind if I get a hug while we’re out here? I think I could use one.”

His face wrinkled in a smile, the kind I hadn’t seen in years, and when he wrapped his arms around me, I held him as tightly as I could manage without hurting him. He smelled like Old Spice and slightly musty clothes, and all the tension in my muscles ebbed as we stood there.

“You were the best thing in my life until her,” I whispered. “I hope you know that.”

Knowing I might never get him like this again, I felt another tear escape, and I rolled my lips together, fighting more that wanted to follow it.

Henry patted my back lightly, pulling away to tap the side of my face like I was a kid. “Right back at you, little pup.” His eyes traced over my face. “Maybe … maybe you could shave before you bring her those flowers. You look like a yeti.”

I barked out a laugh, and he smiled, still absently patting my arm as we started walking back toward the building.

“You gonna go see her tonight?” he asked, pointing off toward the west, where some dark clouds were rolling heavy across the sky, still a far ways off but ominous all the same. “I think those storms might be headed our way.”

An idea hit me like a lightning bolt—clear and bright and perfect. “Maybe I will.”

“You want to stay for a game of checkers first? And maybe dinner too?” he asked. “I think they’re doing grilled cheese today. It’s not half bad.”

“Yeah,” I answered softly. “I’d like that.”