The Mind (The Reluctant Romantics #1.5) (15 page)

BOOK: The Mind (The Reluctant Romantics #1.5)
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Another fucking stupid word.

“I will let her know,” I heard Dallas pause then plead with my mother in the kitchen, probably cupping her hand over the phone as Mrs. Parker wept. “Mom, I can’t do this anymore.” I heard my mother’s voice immediately.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Parker, Dallas is a bit upset. Yes, of course, I’ll relay the message to Rose.”

But my mother wouldn’t relay anything because she knew I didn’t want to hear words of condolence. I pulled the quilt I’d been comforting myself with since I was a kid closer to my chest as I stared through the small crack in the closed blinds. The weather was dreary and I was thankful. I didn’t want to see the Texas sun. I didn’t want to be reminded of its existence and how for a brief moment I had owned a piece of it.

****

The mind is a cruel thing. I was now a firm believer that it controls your heart. We are led to believe they are two separate but powerful adversaries, battling it out for control, but I no longer saw it as the case. Every waking moment of the past week, my thoughts had only led my heart to bleed. It had no say; it just kept obeying my relentless mind, the ache, the pull, the never-ending tear that ripped at me with every second of awareness that he was gone.

My weak heart never had a chance against my mind, which I decided loved Grant the most because it kept perfect memories.

I stood in my satin and lace wedding dress, on my eventless wedding day, staring at the pond where we fell in love. Every memory we had there, even our first fight, was perfect.

“Will you stop already?”

“Never,” Grant said with a slight grin.

“You are impossible!”

“No, I’m right and you know it. We’ll never really be ready. No one ever is.” He shrugged as he started to walk back to his truck, and it angered me to no end.

“Don’t walk away from me! I’m still talking to you!”

“Can we talk on the way back? I have a long shift.”

“No.”

“Fine,” I heard him grunt out as he turned to me, his hands behind him on the hood of his truck, his legs crossed at the ankle. He was irritated. It was the first time I’d seen him angry. I had to hide my smile because even angry and frustrating as hell, he was the most lovable man in the world.

“When you asked me to marry you, I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t want to, but, Grant...I can’t give a baby the attention it needs, not now.”

“I know.”

“So if you know, why are you pressuring me?!”

He crossed his arms and looked at the pond behind me. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, well, there’s communication,” I snapped, walking towards him for an explanation.

“You have this great family.”

I understood immediately. He wanted his own. “They’re yours, too.”

“I want our family. That’s all I want. I can’t stop this need in me, Rose, and as soon as I found you it was all I could do to keep my mouth shut. I think my parents’ deaths changed me. I think as soon as I saw how mortal we really are, I wanted life then and there. And I know it’s unreasonable in a way but here we are, a month away from marrying. Your career is set and so is mine, and we’re building this amazing house.”

“What if I don’t want to become a mother right now?”

Grant studied me briefly before scrubbing his face with his hand. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He walked over to his passenger door and opened it then looked at me with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s too much to ask. I just...fuck, I won’t ask this of you, not now.” I ignored the open door as I approached and searched his eyes, seeing the same sadness in them as I did the minute his father passed.

“I want everything you want, Grant. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have agreed to this life with you. But, you have to stop this race. We have all the time in the world and even if I were to get pregnant tomorrow, a baby couldn’t replace what you’ve lost. You are grieving and you think you need something to fill the void.”

He nodded as a single tear fell down his cheek. I went to him, wrapping my small frame around him as much as I could as he gripped the back of my shirt with his fists, burying his head in my neck. I didn’t have to tell him about the sudden panic racing through me that our fast love and shotgun wedding might have been a reaction to his father’s illness and death. I didn’t want to believe it for one second. Still, it paralyzed me even as I was consoling him. It was a selfish thought and I hated myself for it.

“I still feel the hole of his absence even when I’m with you, Rose. You aren’t a cure for any of that. I know what you’re thinking, and I want you to stop.”

“Maybe we should wait—”

“If you finish that sentence, I won’t forgive those words.” He looked up at me then, so raw, but so certain. I simply nodded as he leaned in. “This is not manufactured love.” He turned and sat in the passenger seat then pulled me to straddle his lap. We said nothing as we stared at each other for long minutes before his lips descended slowly onto mine. His kiss was deep, raw, filled with emotion and love. Just a certain as he was, I leaned into him, his strong arms caressing me, his fingers running through my hair as he soothed me right back. When he pulled away, our argument was over. Not because either of us won, but because we both wanted the same thing. We both knew eventually we would get it.

I would have everything I’d asked for and he would have the family he’d always wanted.

I threw the last of the feed in the pond and watched the ducks eat their fill. Could they feel his absence, too? Did they know that he was gone?

Grant had faced mortality head on, several times. He
knew
. I’d lost absolutely no one close to me in my life until him. Suddenly, the realization of why he’d wanted a family so much hit me harder. All he had was me...me and those damned ducks. Who else would miss him? Who else would know who he truly was?

It was up to me to remember him and me alone. His friends, though present at the funeral, were too few and too far removed from his life because of traveling to care for his father. They didn’t have memories of him now; they were ghosts of his former life, a life where he was carefree and not shouldering the responsibility of a dying parent.

If I forgot him, he would be forgotten.

I vowed then and there to never let that happen.

I entered my parents’ house to find them in their recliners, locked in an obvious battle of wills. I stood in the entry way listening to their fight as I laughed to myself, peeking around the corner.

“Give me the damn remote.”

“No!”

“I’m not watching this reality shit anymore, Seth. Give it to me.”

“No.”

“Seth, I’m going to kick your ass all over this house.”

I had to cup my hand over my mouth to keep from bursting.

Only my mother
.

“There are seven TVs in this house, Laura, go find another one.” I heard my father sneeze and grab a tissue. I could only see the back of their heads in their separate recliners as they sat side-by-side, bitching over their shared coffee table.

“Seth, I am warning you, and you won’t like me when I’m angry
and
sick.”

“Nothing new. You are the biggest pain in the ass I have ever met. If you think I haven’t seen you at your worst, you are nuts.”

“That’s it. Give me the remote!”

“No,” my father protested with a bark. “Laura, you’re getting to be a mean old woman.”

“Did you just call me old?” An eerie silence filled the room as my father feared for his life.

“Here, take it.” I saw the remote being lightly thrown into my mother’s chair as my father cowered in his.

Good move, Dad.

“You are still beautiful, baby.”

“Save it, Seth. You are screwed for the day.”

“Come on, baby, don’t be mad.”

“You are the one with brittle bones. Better take it easy before you break a hip.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“Forgiven, but we’re still not watching this crap.” I smiled as my parents coughed in unison then took the step up leading into our living room.

“House call.”

My mother’s eyes brightened instantly as I came into view. “Oh, Rose, baby, how are you? You’re all I think about.” My mother’s sick, nasally voice instantly tugged at my heart. She had always been such a strong woman. Any sign of weakness usually got to me when it came to her. I kept my tears from coming and gave her the new usual, “I’m fine, Mom.” She reached out to hug me but I brushed past her with a soft kiss on her cheek.

“I’m fine, really.” I saw her hesitate then look at my father, hurt on her face.

“Don’t lie to me, Rose. I know how bad you’re hurting,” my mother said, sitting back in her recliner.

Fast growing anger boiled inside of me. “Do you? It sure seems like you don’t, Mom.” I looked between her and my father then shook my head. I sat on the couch and apologized under my breath.

“Don’t say you’re sorry. You’re right, I don’t know. I don’t have any idea. Talk to me, Rose,” my mother said, begging me for anything. She had done nothing but reach out to me for weeks and I had shut her out. I could tell it was hurting her, but I couldn’t share my pain with her. I stood up and popped the thermometer in between the two of them. The longer I was with them the angrier I became. I resented their happiness. It was a grudge I had no right to hold, but still it lingered.

“No temperature. Looks like a nasty cold. You need fluids and rest, and stop fighting over the remote.” I saw them grin at each other and I took a deep breath before rolling my eyes. My father noticed.

“What is it, baby girl?” my father asked, apprehension apparent in his tone. “You can tell us anything.”

“Nothing, Daddy. I have to get back.”

“Rose, talk to us, please. This is the first time we’ve seen you since the funeral. I’ve been to campus and your apartment four times. You won’t return my calls. Don’t shut us out like this,” my mother pleaded.

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Rose, you went back to school and we didn’t think it was the best idea. At least pretend you still need a little parenting now and then to flatter us,” my father added.

“Grant’s dead, what is there to say? I’m a twenty-five-year old widow.”

I saw my father hang his head and carefully survey me again. “I love you, little woman. Don’t forget that you will always have us.”

“And
you
two
will always have
each other
.” I heard the venom in my voice and saw my mother flinch at my statement. It was wrong, I knew it was wrong but it didn’t make my need to flee any less strong.

“Rose, I don’t care how mad you get or what you say, please, just let it out...just say it,” my mother begged again.

“I’m fine, okay?! I’m working, I’m eating, and I’m even doing my fucking laundry. I’m fine.”

I saw calm wash over my mother’s face and paused my rant. “Hear that, Seth? She’s fine. You know what? I feel fine, too. How about you, Seth? You feel fine?” She tossed the blanket off her legs and stood up, throwing her blanket in her chair.

“Mom, you really are sick. Sit down, you need to rest. I’ll make you some soup.”

I headed to the kitchen, my mother hot on my heels.

“No, I’m great. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll go for a swim.” I heard the sliding glass door open behind me as I reached the cabinet and chased her down when I saw her taking off her slippers.

“Mom, it’s freezing! It’s forty-five degrees out here!”

“I’m fine!” she mimicked, sounding eerily like me.

“Laura, what in the hell
are
you doing?” I heard my father’s voice boom behind me.

“Seth, why don’t you join me?” She wiggled out of her robe and without a moment's hesitation, dove head first into what I was sure was ice-cold water.

“Damn it, Laura!” my father yelled as he made his way over to her as she emerged with a gasp.

“Oh, my God, Mom!” Following my dad, I shooed him away at his attempt to get to her first and pulled her out by the hands, feeling the freezing cold water hit my arms and shivering as she looked at my father with an eyeful of ‘Don’t say a word.’

“You’re going to get yourself killed, Mom! You could catch pneumonia!”

“I’m fine.”

“Cut it out, Mom!” I pleaded as my father did his best to stifle his anger. I ran to the living room, grabbed a blanket, and made it back to the kitchen, wrapping it around her as she walked inside.

“I get it, Mom, you are trying to prove a point. And you took it a little too far, might I add.”

“I’m fine, Rose.” She began to shake and my father tried to put his arms around her to get her warm.

“I’m fine!” She brushed him off and opened the freezer door and stood there shivering.

“Damn it, Mom, I get it, okay? I won’t say I’m fine again. I’m miserable.”

She studied me with sharp eyes before bursting into tears. She shut the freezer door and approached me with a seriousness she reserved for talks like this.

“You are my baby, Rose.
My
baby. When you hurt,
I
hurt, and that’s the way this works. I was no more ready to jump in that pool than you were to dive right back into life. You need me and I need you more because you are everything to me. If I can see your pain, even when it’s at its worst, I can still see
you,
Rose. And if I can still see you, I can sleep at night. I’m selfish, I guess, but I need to be here for you through this. We both do.”

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