The Sweet By and By (28 page)

The picture Rachel took of Jade and Dustin on their wedding day sat on top of the pile. Jade stared at the image, searching for the sense of love and safety that had exploded in her heart that day. The emotion lived somewhere in her. It had leaked out when she told Dustin's story to Max. But all she felt was a loss of innocence and hope. Sixteen was too young.

Roscoe stretched his nose to the top of the bed, sniffing.

“Smell something rotten, buddy?” Jade rubbed his ears. Why had she bothered to keep this stuff? It was a mystery. Did she think one day she'd look back on it with nostalgia? Who was she going to share it with? Her husband? Her children? Jade picked up a picture from the wedding. “This is the boy who obliterated your mom's life, sweetie. Isn't he handsome?”

Jade ripped the picture in two.
Burn it
. Tugging open the nightstand drawer, she found the matches and touched one half of the wedding picture to the tiny flame.

The image of her cradled in Dustin's arms, laughing with her head back and legs in the air, began to melt. If she'd known then what she knew now . . .

“Ouch.” Jade dropped the burning Kodak halves to the floor. Roscoe barked and growled. She stomped it out with her foot, but the burning picture charred a spot in the carpet. “Just great. A scar.”

Angry and frustrated, she stooped to pick up the picture. The first sob rolled up from her chest, stealing her breath. The second hit like a boulder.

Snatching up the box and the matches, weeping, Jade ran to the bathroom and tossed the box in the tub. The pregnancy test stick popped up from underneath a corsage.

Collapsing to the toilet seat, cheeks flooded with tears, Jade bombed the box with one lit match after another.
Burn, burn
.
Good riddance.

Reaching behind the commode, she found the stick handle of the plunger. Raising it over her head, arms trembling, Jade shouted until her gut ached, beating the burning box over and over, grinding soot and ashes into the white bathtub porcelain.

Twenty-four

Max flipped through channels while Jade folded a small load of laundry. Despite the laughter of a
Seinfeld
rerun, the room was silent. She kept waiting for him to ask if she'd called Dustin, but he didn't. Frankly, she was relieved. Today bore the weight of a hundred years.

Jade carried the basket of clothes to the bedroom, put her jeans in the dresser drawer, and hung her tops on hangers. After the great box-burning, she had reassembled the demolished closet and, except for the splinter in her palm—she broke the plunger handle—no one would ever know anything went on here today.

When she turned around, Max was sitting on the bed.

“Tired of channel surfing?” She closed the closet door.

“What happened to the carpet?” He stomped his foot on the sooty spot but kept his gaze on Jade. “And the bathtub.”

“What'd you do? Come in with your spyglass?”

“Big, black spots are hard to miss.”

He's crazy.
Jade had scrubbed the tub with Clorox and carried the ashes out to the Dumpster. Going into the bathroom, she pulled back the shower curtain and peered at the tub. Okay, so a second scrubbing might be in order. Beating black ashes into porcelain might have been overkill.

“I found this. By the storeroom door.” Max held up a black and dented claddagh ring.

“I burned a box of Dustin's stuff.” Jade reached for the ring. “He gave this to me on our wedding day.”

“I've been sitting in front of
Seinfeld
for an hour, waiting for you to tell me Dustin was here.”

“Who told?” Jade rubbed the soot from the ring.

“Lillabeth.”

“She's so fired. Why didn't you ask? You called me every hour right until he showed up.”

Max lowered his chin, regarding her from under his brow. “I could tell I was getting on your nerves.”

She sighed softly, leaving the bathroom for the kitchen. “I'd have gotten around to it.”

“What happened? Seems there was a pretty brutal ritual with a box of matches today.”

She retrieved the blender from the bottom cabinet. “In a way, yes. He reminded me of the worst year of my life.” And the ugly, enduring aftermath. There'd best be some ice cream in the freezer.

“Did he sign the papers?”

“Yes.” Half a carton of vanilla. Jade snatched the ice cream scoop from the utensil caddy and filled the blender jar. “How I trusted that big galoot is beyond me.”

Max was beside her, offering up the milk and the chocolate syrup. “Love doesn't always lead our hearts in the right direction.”

Jade stopped squeezing the syrup. “Then how can we know?”

“We don't.”

Setting the syrup down, she faced him. “Tell me you know, Max. I won't marry you if you don't. Forget annulments; forget teenage heartbreak or ex-husbands and fiances. If you're not the real deal”—she slipped his diamond from her finger—“you can take this and go.”

Max gently slipped the ring back on her finger. “I've never been more sure of anything in my life. Jade, after a year, I'm more in love with you than I've ever been with anyone. I think about you in the middle of depositions. Sometimes, I get a sense of well-being, wholeness, and I pause to wonder why. It's you. Nights on the sofa watching movies or playing Scrabble with you are like a rocket shot to the moon.”

She fell into him, looping her arms around him. “I don't deserve you.”

His hand caressed her back, hugging her tight. “I'm all in, Jade.”

“Thank you for being patient with me.”

“It's not easy, knowing you've been married before.”

“But you and I are nothing like what I had before. There was no real ceremony, no one knew except Stu and Rachel. Dustin and I never lived together. I didn't change my name. Everything with you is new. There will be so many firsts, from the ceremony to—”

“Our first child.”

Jade turned to the counter and uncapped the milk, splashing a gulp into the blender jar. “Sure, our first child.”

“So, the past is the past.”

“Nothing before we met each other existed.”

“Everything is new.”

Jade covered the shake concoction and pressed the Liquefy button. Max retrieved the fountain glasses, and when the mixture was the right texture, Jade poured.

“Mm, best in town, babe.” Max's kiss was wet and cold. He fell against the counter. “As long as we're coming clean . . .”

Jade lowered her milkshake, licking the chocolate mustache from her lip. “What do you mean?”

“That business with Mom, and kicking you out of the kitchen . . .” Max opened the silverware drawer and pulled out a long, skinny spoon. “I was addicted to pain meds a few years ago, Jade. It started when I was in high school, and I reinjured my back playing basketball during law school. I went to the doc, and he gave me Percocet and . . . I was feeling no pain.”

“Just like that, you were hooked?”

“Not overnight, but my back would tighten after a long study session, with hours still ahead of me. Percocet took the edge off and didn't make me drowsy. Over time, I started thinking I needed them for the long nights in the law library.”

“I see.” Jade stirred her chocolate shake. “Are you struggling now?”

“No, but I can't convince Mom. She's afraid it'll happen again. She only gave me four pills from that prescription.” He stirred his drink. “Then, when I was with Rice, I'd taken on a big divorce case that got a lot of media attention. I was in constant pain. Or so I thought.” He checked her response with a deep gaze. “I learned how to get what I needed.”

His confession made the atmosphere of her heart feel normal again. “Do I need to worry?”

“No.” He tipped up his glass. “I don't want to do that to you, Jade.”

“That's what Rice meant . . . you were in denial.”

“We broke up, and I got help.”

“Then the relationship fell apart because of your issue with pain pills? Not because you realized it wasn't going to work?”

Max set his milkshake aside and pinned Jade between his arms, hands locked on the counter behind her. “My problem was just the catalyst. But like I told you, Jade, Rice had always been more of a buddy. She was one of the guys. We started hanging out, then dating. Mom said to me one night, ‘You're all but engaged, Max.' For the first time in my adult life, I realized I was old enough, responsible enough to get married. I ran out and bought a ring, convincing myself she was the one.”

“Rice said something about wanting to work things out with you.”

“Who cares what she said, Jade? If I wanted to be with her, I would be. Period. Truth is, she doesn't want to be with me either.”

She tapped her forehead to his chin. “What a mess, you and me.”

“But we're going to make it.”

They carried their shakes into the living room and curled up on the sofa, Jade tucking her cold toes under his leg. Max flipped to ESPN for SportsCenter.

“Remember, tomorrow is my bachelor day with the guys. Six a.m. tee time.”

She tipped her glass to scoop out a melting clump of ice cream with her tongue. “All day?”

“All day. Why don't you do something fun with your mom and Willow?”

“Oh, sure, you get a great day with the guys, and I get stuck with Mom and Willow.”

“Then call Daphne and Margot.”

“Actually, Willow's going hiking with a group she met in the park.”

“You're kidding? A bunch of strangers? Scary—”

“Tell me. And Mama seems content to sit and listen to records or talk to Lillabeth. I don't think she feels well.”

“Has she said anything more to you about the leukemia?”

“No. I just let her be. Seems to work for both of us.” She leaned across the sofa for a slow and passionate kiss. “Go, have fun with your boys.”

He brushed his fingers through her hair. “I love you.”

“I know.” Maybe for the first time, she really did.

Daphne and Margot waltzed into the Blue Umbrella the next morning. “Spa day, let's go. Max called Daph at six a.m. and said to take you for a spa day. His treat.” Margot did a jig around the office. “We're ready to be pampered.”

“Can't.” Jade carried the cash drawer out to the register. “I've got a lot to do today.”

“Girl, it's your last weekend of freedom before Ball and Chain Day.” Daphne held a cashmere sweater to her torso. “This is gorgeous.”

“Remind me not to come to you for relationship advice, Daph.” Margot draped her arm over Jade's shoulders. “Come on, for old time's sake. Max is paying. How can you not?”

“This isn't fair, and you know it. I'd love to spend the day at a spa with y'all, but I've got so much to do before the wedding. I wouldn't be able to relax.”

“Did you see her desk, Margot? It's been attacked by lime green sticky notes.” Daphne handed Lillabeth her credit card. “What's my discount, Jade?”

“Zero.” Jade didn't even hesitate.

“What? No friend discount?”

“Hey, two-hundred-bazillion-dollars-an-hour headshrinker, pay the full price and tip the cashier.” Margot winked at Lillabeth. “We agreed no discounts until Jade got on her feet, remember?”

“She looks like she's on her feet to me.”

Daphne purchased her sweater and Jade walked them out to Margot's car, promising a spa day when she got back from her honeymoon. The girls had yet to hear the details about Mama, Dustin, and the battle of the mighty plunger against the burning box.

Jade wanted their full attention when she doled out the details.

But her stomach contracted and deflated like a day-old balloon when she waved good-bye and Margot and Daphne pulled away. They'd been a trio for so long.

Mama arrived at the Blue Umbrella shortly after opening and sat in the storage room, listening to a Beach Boys LP.

“Jade, this woman wants a consignment form.” Lillabeth pointed to a well-groomed older woman with an air of Southern aristocracy.

“Certainly.” In the office, Jade was fishing a form from the file cabinet when her cell rang from her pants pocket.

“Aren't you off with the boys? Golfing?”

“Yeah, but I just wanted to say I love you and I'm sorry about everything. Being stupid about Dustin, not telling you about the meds.”

“I love you, and I'm sorry for being stupid about Dustin too. But I like a little bit of the jealous Max from time to time.” Sometimes she craved the way Max made her feel. Loved, wanted. Worthy.

“I'll see what I can do.”

When she hung up with him, her cell rang again. Jade answered as she walked the consignment form out to the customer.

“What now?” she said, laughing as she pictured Max leaning on his 3-wood.

“Hello? Is this Jade Fitzgerald?”

“Yes.” She swallowed her humor. “Can I help you?”

“Jade, it's Lynette Simpson.”

“Lynette, hey.” Jade scanned her to-do stickies. Seems she had one here with Lynette's name on it.

“What time will you be here today? My daughter has a rehearsal tonight for the children's Christmas choir, and—”

“The Lugger estate.” Jade ripped the sticky from her desk. It'd been moved to the top row when it should've been on the bottom. “Lynette, I'm sorry, I forgot.”

“Jade, you have to come today. I can't hold your pieces any longer. I'll have to sell them.”

“I gave you a deposit.”

“Then come get the inventory.”

She needed the Lugger inventory. Well, wanted it, anyway. Jade had passed on other estates to save for this one. She'd fallen in love with the Lugger's antique French sofa and begged Lynette to hold it for her. The Italian pasta service and the jewelry were worth the trip over, nevermind the rest of the inventory she'd selected from the sale.
Shoot, shoot, shoot. What time is it? Eleven. Okay. Roughly two hours to Nashville
. “How about one thirty, two o'clock. Is that okay?”