Wrecked (Stories of Serendipity #8): #8 (23 page)

J
ason woke up the next morning, Christmas, with an overwhelming need to belong to something. He’d spent last Christmas at Jodie’s house with his family and had watched their interactions with thinly disguised jealousy. He’d known that’s what he wanted but hadn’t the first clue as to go about getting it. He wanted to be a part of a family. He wanted a little person that was half his DNA to giggle at his antics. He wanted to provide for a woman and child, to feel needed, to protect them with his life, if necessary.

With Renae he felt like he was so close, but it was just out of reach. The problem was that he didn’t know exactly how to grasp what it was he wanted. Every time he got close to Renae, she pushed him away. He knew she was the key to his future, but he just couldn’t get her to let him over her wall to show her how good they could be together.

He spent Christmas day at Renae’s house much the same way he’d spent the rest of his days, trying to do things to make her life easier. Only she thought he had ulterior motives. She’d said as much last night.

After he’d made Kelly and Renae blueberry waffles, they’d sat down at the tree to open more presents. Jason had gotten Kelly and Renae matching charm bracelets, something he’d fretted over. He’d wanted to get something special but had no idea what to get the girls. He didn’t know Kelly at all, and felt like he barely knew Renae at times. But the charm bracelets had two charms on them — a saxophone, and a baby rattle. Kelly’s bracelet had an additional charm, the mascot from her college, to commemorate her first year of college.

“They’re for you to add on to them as you have special occasions you want to commemorate.”

Kelly hugged him tight, saying, “I love it, Jason. Thank you so much. I already know what my next charm will be.”

“What?”

“Something to commemorate y’all’s wedding.”

Renae choked on the hot cocoa she was sipping on, and Jason reached over to pound her on the back, not that it would help. Part of him was trying to pound some sense into her and make her see that it wasn’t such a crazy idea.

“Can I go to Dalton’s?”

“Are you spending the night?”

“I can if you want me to…” Kelly hedged as Jason stifled a smirk. The little sneak was trying to hook them up. As much as he appreciated the effort on her part, it wasn’t doing much for his appeal in Renae’s eyes. Jason could tell she was annoyed by her daughter’s machinations.

Renae sounded tired suddenly. “Just answer my question.”

“No, Mom. I was gonna come home around ten.”

“Well, then, be careful driving,” Renae finally acquiesced.

When Kelly left, Renae slumped against her chair, passing him an envelope, not saying a word before slipping her hands under her legs. She didn’t look at him, and his stomach fell.

He opened the envelope and pulled out a gift card to the local hardware store.

“Thanks. How… thoughtful.” Of course, she’d been busy and wouldn’t have had time to do any serious shopping for him.

Oh who was he kidding? She was pissed he was here, pissed she was pregnant, pissed she couldn’t live fancy and free, pissed she’d ever set eyes on Jason. She got him exactly what she’d meant to.

Her eyes were devoid of emotion, and Jason wondered where the fiery temptress was. Instead of poking the bear, trying to rile it up, he sighed, defeated. He’d put so much thought into his gifts for them. He’d wanted to get something nice, but not over the top, and meaningful for them. Something they would go back and look at and remember him. He wasn’t trying to insinuate himself into their life. He was just trying to make sure Renae and the baby were okay.

And he fell for her in the process.

He could admit to himself the gift card hurt his feelings. It was impersonal and not something he would really enjoy. Hardware stores meant projects, and projects meant something had broken and needed to be fixed.

Without a word, Jason got up and went to the guest room. He pulled out his sax and put it together, not really caring if the loud music would be welcome right now or not. He needed to play.

So he did.

His music was like Xanax for his soul, mellowing his emotions, smoothing them out, boosting them up. The sharp valleys of his disappointment leveled out over the tones of his horn. He closed his eyes and let his fingers float over the keys on their own.

Low, soulful melodies came from his heart, floating through the saxophone as he played. When he turned, Renae stood in the doorway, her hand resting on her barely protruding belly. He segued into Brahm’s
Lullaby
without thinking, and watched her eyes fill with an emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Pride? Yearning? A small wistful smile tugged at her lips, and he almost walked closer to her but stopped himself.

He had a purpose here. He should be playing for the baby, introducing it to music in the womb. He could do this for the baby, and if the look in Renae’s eyes was anything to go by, it wouldn’t make her mad at him. He was supposed to be here for the baby. Not himself. Not for fancy presents. He wasn’t trying to get laid or trying to wedge himself into their lives. He just wanted to be a part of the baby’s development.

When he’d finished with the lullaby, he transitioned into
Amazing Grace
, filling it with improvised trills and bridges, jazzing it up a little bit, but it chased Renae away. He saw her eyes shutter before she turned and walked away.

Oh well. Baby steps.

He continued playing for himself until he wasn’t angry anymore. Breaking down the instrument, he wiped it carefully, soothing himself with the repetitive motions of cleaning his horn as he put it away.

Jason ambled into the kitchen, seeking out Renae to apologize. For what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe for buying such extravagant gifts when apparently, all she wanted was a gift card. He wanted to make things right between them. He was tired of walking on eggshells, having awkward conversations.

The scent of oranges filled his nostrils as he made his way closer to the kitchen. Renae was peeling oranges onto a cutting board, juice squirting everywhere, Renae oblivious. She was concentrating on something, her fingers deftly digging under the skin, while her teeth tortured her bottom lip, turning the natural pink hue white. He was suddenly overcome with need. The sight of her moist lips under her teeth brought images of her face
that night
and memories of the sounds she’d made. Her gray eyes looked far away, thinking of something besides the oranges. She was peeling mindlessly, thinking of something else, and Jason would give anything to get inside her head.

His entire body suddenly tightened into a spring being pushed together, and he realized that at any moment he could be released, flying anywhere. That’s what this woman did to him. There was no way he could go around pretending he didn’t want her.

He must have shifted or something because her attention was drawn to him, and she smiled as her face cleared of whatever she was thinking about.

“Hey there,” she offered.

“Hey. I’m sorry about getting mad about the presents.” He might as well come clean. “It’s not like we’d set rules or anything, and I probably shouldn’t be getting you jewelry.”

She set down the orange she was working on and wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “It’s okay. The bracelets are lovely. It’s me who should apologize. I didn’t think at all about your gift, honestly. I should have, but I didn’t, and when I saw what you got us, I was embarrassed about it. I’m sorry. It was totally thoughtless.” Her voice softened, and the longing surging through Jason was undeniable.

He tried to play it off. “Hey, you’re gestating. I hear that makes women forgetful a lot.” He spread his hands in supplication. “No big deal. I promise.”

She smiled again, warmly this time, and turned back to her oranges. There was a large pile next to her still needing peeling, so Jason rolled up his sleeves and started helping.

“What are we making?”

“It’s a tradition in our family to make ambrosia with the fruit in our stockings for Christmas. At least that’s what Mom always calls it. When she was a child, they grew up poor, and the only fresh fruit they ever really got was in their stockings at Christmas. So she started making a fruit salad out of it after they opened their stockings. Kelly really liked oranges and cherries, so I started making this when Kelly was a baby. It’s one of her favorites. I make it every year.”

“What’s in it?” Jason was eyeing the enormous bowl half filled with already peeled oranges as he started peeling one.

“Oranges, shredded coconut, and maraschino cherries. Mom used to make it with everything, but this is what I make it with.”

“Sounds good.” He’d finished peeling and reached for another. “Aren’t you making a lot?”

She chuckled, a deep throaty sound that went straight to the base of Jason’s spine. “It’ll get eaten. You just watch.”

They peeled in silence for a while, Jason thoroughly enjoying just standing next to Renae, helping her peel. He could smell her cinnamon lotion or whatever it was that drove him crazy, and listening to the soft noises she made unconsciously was doing things to his body he couldn’t describe. She would sigh contentedly or grunt lightly when a drop of orange juice would hit her face, or sneak a little piece of orange into her mouth and moan appreciatively.

They finished peeling, and he watched her cut the oranges into large chunks before adding a couple of bags of shredded coconut, then an enormous jar of maraschino cherries before stirring the mixture.

“Now to make room in the fridge for this big bowl. After everything sits together for a couple of hours, it’ll be yummy. I made some for you to take to Joe, too.”

“Thanks.” Not wanting this rare moment of companionship to end, he offered, “Do you have anything else you need help with? Or can we sit and have a cup of tea?

“Tea sounds nice.”

He’d seen a Christmas tea set in the kitchen and went in to rinse it out while the water was going on the stove. After finding a tray, setting everything out on it and filling the teapot with water and tea bags, he carried the tray into the living room. Renae was sitting on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table in front of her.

“Have you decided where the nursery will be?” He was trying to find neutral ground. He was dying to just talk to her without antagonizing her.

“Well, it
was
going to be your room, but I can’t exactly get started on it with you in there.” She drug her feet off the table and looked at him. “When is Joe going to be going home?”

She didn’t sound accusatory. She sounded genuinely curious, her beautiful gray eyes wide with the question. Jason realized then he was probably really cramping her living situation, being underfoot all the time. He’d known that already, of course, but this was the first time he’d felt a little bad about it.

“It’ll probably be close to three more weeks.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I really am excited about being a father, and I really do want to help you, Renae.” He felt a strong, almost overwhelming sense of protectiveness toward her. He turned his body on the couch so he was facing her, one leg propped in front of him. She had an edge to her posture, a tension he longed to ease. He softened his voice. “I’m not mad anymore you kept the pregnancy from me. I sort of understand where you were coming from, especially after seeing you spending time with Kelly. But I don’t want to miss anything else, and I want to help you, take care of you. I see everything you do for other people, and I want to do something to help you.” He wanted to do more than that, but he wasn’t going to tell her. He knew she wouldn’t take it well. “I’ll sleep on the couch if you want to start decorating the nursery.”

“For three weeks?” Disbelief shone in her eyes and her gaping mouth. The pink maw was tempting him, but he knew he had to rein in his libido. This was an important conversation, and they were having it without being antagonistic with one another, for which he was thankful. It was almost the way it was before.

Gesturing magnanimously to the overstuffed couch they were both sitting on, as large as a pick-up truck, he smiled. “Sure. I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Well, I’m sure it won’t come to that. I’m not getting rid of the guest bed yet, and there’s plenty of room for a crib and stuff in there with it. But I’ll be losing the bookshelves and the knick knack shelves, and putting in a changing table and a rocking chair. I have six more months. I don’t need to get rid of anything just yet…”

“Are you going to paint?”

“Yeah. I was thinking a soft yellow or a green, something unisex. I don’t like little pink rooms, although blue is nice, even if it is a girl. What do you think?”

He was surprised she’d asked his opinion. It showed she was opening up to him, to his points of view. Maybe she would eventually let him in, let him be a part of her life.

He shrugged. “I’m not a fan of pink either.” Her answering smile sent joy coursing through him. “I think your choices sound nice.”

“What do you want?” She asked him shyly. “A boy or a girl?”

“Honestly? I’ve thought about both. I would love to have a little boy to share stuff with, that’s what comes to mind first, but I think that’s because I had a brother, and that’s what I’m most comfortable with. But a little girl would be awesome. I could learn how to do hair and color coordinate and paint nails. And if she’s a little tomboy, I get the best of both worlds.”