The Posse (12 page)

“One night, I got really
drunk. Lindsay got me home, and I just lost it. I was crying, and
she was, you know, holding me. Trying to make me feel better.”

Jude felt dread rising
within her heart. “Okay.”

Joseph choked on a sob. “We
slept together, Mom. And I wasn’t smart. We didn’t—I didn’t take
precautions, like you and Dad always said. I was stupid and
drunk.”

“Okay.” It was all she could
get out. She held onto the word like a raft in the storm.

“So then I came home, when
you called me, and then Dad...” His whole body shook. “Then Dad was
gone.” He laid his head on the table. Jude moved her hand to stroke
his head.

“What happened, Joseph? To
Lindsay?”

He sniffed, hard, and raised
his head, not quite meeting her eyes. “I emailed her. I told her I
wasn’t coming back to school, not then, and I didn’t know when. And
then I told her I needed a break, because I needed to be here for
you and Meggie.”

He took in a long breath. “I
didn’t hear anything back from her. I tried to email her a few
times, I texted her, but she didn’t answer. I figured she was
pissed, and I was mad because I thought she could be more
understanding. I mean, my dad had just died.”

Jude nodded slowly. “Okay.
And?”

“When I got back to school,
I looked for her, and I asked around. Someone told me she had
transferred to a school closer to home. She’s from Clearwater,
remember? So I sent her another email, just saying I was back at
school, that I missed her. And then yesterday, she called me.”

Joseph pulled his hands back
and gripped the edge of the table. “She was pregnant, Mom. Lindsay
had a baby. And it’s mine.”

The world spun just
slightly, and Jude lost her breath for a moment. She mirrored
Joseph’s stance, holding the table as though it could keep her from
sinking and drowning.

“Joseph...” She said his
name on a breath, a long whisper.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I screwed
up, I know. I’m so sorry. I-I just--” He cried a little more before
he could speak again. “Having to come home and tell you is the
hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Jude shook her head. “I
don’t think so, Joseph. This is life-changing. I think you’re going
to have lots of harder things coming right now.” She ran a shaking
hand through her hair, trying to make sense of life.

“It’s a boy, Mom. The baby
is a boy. I have a son.”

In spite of herself, in
contradiction to the tears running down her cheeks, Jude found a
smile.

“Lindsay sent me a picture.
We talked last night for a long, long time.”

“Why didn’t she tell you she
was pregnant earlier? Joseph, forgive me, but I have to ask
this—are you sure the baby is yours?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure.
Lindsay is from a really conservative family. She had never—before
me, I mean.” He flushed. “And he looks like me. Look, Mom.”

He pulled his phone from his
back pocket and showed her the screen. The startled face of an
infant looked back at her, and after a moment of shock, Jude had to
agree with Joseph. He looked just like her son had as a baby.

“She named him Daniel
Joseph, and they call him DJ. When she told me that...Mom, I cried.
I know I messed up, big time. I know I’m not ready to be a father.
But I am, and I want to do a good job, like Dad. I want to make him
proud.”

“What are you going to do?”
Her head was spinning, and she couldn’t imagine what Joseph must be
feeling. Or Lindsay, the poor girl...going through a pregnancy and
birth without the father of her baby.

“I’m driving down to
Clearwater tonight.” For the first time since he’d come into the
restaurant, Joseph’s voice was sure. “Lindsay didn’t tell me about
being pregnant because she didn’t want to—after Dad—she said she
wasn’t sure I could handle it. But her family was great, and her
parents have been helping her.

“I told her I wanted to see
the baby and talk to her, so I’m going down there. I wanted to come
and tell you in person, but I’m leaving right now. I want to get
there before it gets too late.”

Jude bit back a sarcastic
remark about it already being too late. Bitterness wasn’t going to
change anything now.

“Mom.” Joseph held her hand
again. “Do you hate me? Are you disappointed?”

She drew in a deep breath.
“Joseph, of course I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. And
no, I’m not even disappointed in you. I’m disappointed
for
you. This is going to change how you live your life.” She thought
of the plans and dreams she and Daniel had for their son.

“But you know, it doesn’t
need to mean the end of your life, or of Lindsay’s. I’ll do
whatever I can to help you. It’s going to be hard work for you
both, I’m not going to sugar coat it. But this doesn’t change how I
feel about you. Nothing ever could.”

Tears swimming in his eyes
again, Joseph wrapped her in tight hug. “I love you, Mom. Thank
you.”

She patted his back,
determined not to break down until he left. “I love you, too, baby.
Now you better get on the road. Please be careful. Text me when you
get there.”

He kissed her cheek and was
out the door. Jude watched him drive out of sight and then
collapsed into her chair.

She laid her head on the
table and cried.

***

Logan pulled into the parking lot of the
Riptide about half an hour after Joseph had left. He saw Jude’s car
in its usual spot and the closed sign on the door.

He half-expected the door to
be locked—maybe hoped it would be--but the knob turned easily in
his hand. He bit back a sigh at her tendency to ignore locks and
went into the restaurant.

Jude sat at the bar. The
lights were dim, but he could see that she was rolling a shot glass
across the dark wood.

“Jude.”

She jumped a mile and for a
moment he was afraid she would fall off the barstool. But once she
spied him, she righted herself.

“Logan. Come in. Or, come
over. I see you’ve already come in.”

Someone who didn’t know
Jude, who hadn’t known her for thirty years, might have mistaken
the precision of her words for sobriety. Logan, however, knew
better.

“What’re we drinking, Jude?”
Turning the lock on the outside door, Logan made his way to where
she sat.

Jude grinned up at him. Her
eyes were lined in red, and his heart broke a little more for
her.

“I’m drinking Uncle John’s
limoncello, Logan. This is an occasion, after all. Time to break
out the good stuff.

Logan spied the bottle of
sunny yellow liquor sitting on the bar next to Jude. Her uncle John
lived in New Jersey and bottled his own lemon liqueur. He sent down
bottles each holiday, and Logan remembered it was Jude’s favorite
indulgence, whether she was celebrating or drowning sorrows.

She walked carefully around
the bar and pulled out another shot glass. Placing it next to hers,
she uncapped the bottle and tipped it over.

“How many of those have you
had, Jude?”

She finished pouring, set
the bottle upright and replaced the top. “I lost count after five.
But now you’re here to help me count.”

She propped her elbows on
the bar, picked up her glass and raised it to eye level.
“To...life. Screwed up as it is.”

Logan followed suit, lifted
his drink. “To life.”

Jude slammed hers down,
closing her eyes and breathing out.

Logan drank his own, his
eyes never leaving Jude. She still sat with her elbows up,
thrusting her breasts into prominence. She’d taken down her hair at
some point, and it was tousled around her shoulders. Even knowing
what she was going through, he found it hard to breathe, watching
her.

She opened her eyes and
stared up into his. For a long moment, she didn’t speak, and then
she licked her lips.

“Don’t you want to know what
we’re celebrating, Logan?”

He couldn’t resist. He
reached out and hooked one strand of hair on his finger. “I think I
have a pretty good idea.”

“Really? I’d bet against you
on that.” She poured another drink.

“Jude, maybe you’ve had
enough.” But he drank what she poured him.

“Not nearly. So how would
you know why I broke out the limoncello, Logan? Is that part of
your mission in life? To keep your eye on me? Make sure I don’t go
off the deep end?” She smiled, wide and almost sleepy, and Logan
felt his heart skip.

“I know because Joseph
called me on the way out of town. He was worried about you. He told
me the whole story, asked me to come over and make sure you were
okay.”

“Okay.” Jude dropped her
head to the bar and laughed. “Yeah, I’m okay. What a stupid...” Her
voice trailed off.

Logan smoothed her hair, let
his hand rest in the crook of her neck. “I know. That was a dumb
thing to say. Okay must be the last thing you’re feeling.”

Jude raised her head just
enough to look at him. “Logan...I’m a
grandmother
. Did he
tell you that? He has a baby. He got a girl pregnant.” She put her
head down again.

“Jude, I know this has to
be...devastating.” He wasn’t sure that was the right word, but it
would do for now. “But it isn’t the end of the world. Joseph is a
good kid. He made a mistake, sure, but that doesn’t mean--”

“I know.” She turned her
head so that her cheek lay on the bar. “He’s a good kid. Daniel and
I...we used to say, we’ve got good kids. Sure, they have their ups
and downs. All of them do. And I never thought they were perfect.
But I did think I’d always have Daniel there to go through it with
me, when they had their downs. But I don’t. Today when Joseph came
to tell me, I kept thinking...why am I doing this alone? Where is
Daniel when I need him?”

Logan closed his eyes and
moved his hand around to caress her cheek. “But you’re not alone,
Jude. You never have to be.”

She didn’t respond, and this
time Logan was the one to pour another round. He needed that last
shot of courage.

With the burn still on his
tongue, he leaned over the bar. Jude’s eyes were heavy but not
shut. She glanced at him sideways.

“What are you doing, Logan?”
The words were whispered, just a breath that feathered Logan’s
mouth.

“I don’t know.” He whispered
too, as though there were anyone to hear them. “But I think I’m
going to kiss you.”

He lowered his mouth,
bringing his lips softly on Jude’s. The moment they touched,
something surged through Logan, straight to his groin. He groaned
and leaned farther over, so that his mouth took full possession of
Jude’s, no longer a simple kiss but full involvement of their lips
and tongues.

He had expected a protest,
or at best, a sleepy acquiescence. Instead, she answered his moan
and opened her mouth, aggressively meeting stroke with stroke.
Without lifting her head, she angled so that she had better access,
and one hand came up to clutch at his hair.

Logan moved his hand down
her back, as far as he could reach, but he wanted more.  He
stroked down her cheek, running his fingers over the smoothness of
her skin to her neck. He paused to feel the tripping pulse just
above her collarbone, and then traced the bone before lowering his
touch to the rise of her breasts. She gasped, both then and again
when he slid a finger beneath the fabric of her tank top, beneath
the bra, just barely grazing a nipple.

His heart pounding, his head
spinning from both the effects of the limoncello and her closeness,
he pulled away from her mouth just long enough to grip her gently
beneath the arms.

“Logan--”

“Shh.” He lifted her
carefully up onto the bar, swinging her around and stepping back so
that he stood between her legs. With better access now, he pulled
her head down toward his own and plundered her mouth. Jude wrapped
her arms around his neck, burying her hands in his hair.

Logan dragged his lips down
her neck, his mouth now following the trail his hands had made. He
pushed aside the thin cotton of her shirt and used one finger to
slide the strap of her bra aside. He covered one breast with his
mouth, laving the nipple through her bra. Jude moaned and held his
head in place, her fingers gripping his skull.

He pulled the cup of her bra
aside and suckled, while his hand rolled the other nipple. Desire
rose higher in him, pounding between his legs, and while his mouth
moved to the other breast, his hand stroked down her stomach to the
snap of her shorts. He pulled it apart, but the angle was awkward.
Instead, holding her around the back with one arm, he brought the
other hand to the leg of her shorts and brushed within, just
touching the cotton of her underwear.

“Logan.” It was a groan, as
she leaned back to give him more access. Logan touched her first
over the dampness of the material and then slipped two fingers
within. Jude arched her neck back on a hiss of breath.