34. Connor

When we got back to the inn, I offered to pick Jessamine up from her quilting class. The drive would help clear my head, and Mattias actually had a business to run, however much I kept distracting him from it. No reason for me not to pitch in, and, well, I figured it'd give Jessamine a chance to give me a proper dressing down without having to put on a pleasant smile for Mattias's sake.

Hard to imagine anyone who loved him not making any concession for his happiness, even if that meant letting a random man move into your home.

Obviously, that put me on my best behavior. I met her at the door of the town's arts council building, and took her enormous crafting bag when she appeared. Thankfully, it was pretty light, filled mostly with crafting supplies, fabrics, and that sort of thing. Still, she smiled at me when I offered to take it. Point one, Darling.

But maybe I was overdoing it, because by the time I rushed ahead to open the car door for her, her smile had turned lopsided and teasing. "Thank you, sweetheart," she said as she sank into the passenger seat.

I stashed her bag on the floor behind her chair and got in the driver's side and yes, I'd made it through getting in the car without significant incident.

Which didn't stop me from drumming my fingers on the steering wheel when I put my car into drive.

"I hope I'm not making you nervous, Connor," Jessamine said, looking at me from the corner of her eye with that same tilted smile that told me she knew exactly what was going on.

"You're not making me nervous," I said, but when I glanced at her, she gave me an arched brow. I laughed awkwardly. "Okay, maybe I'm waiting for you to warn me off Mattias, or, like, threaten to make me a part of your next quilting project if I hurt him."

She hummed, staring out the windshield as she thought about it.

"I considered it," she admitted. "But I don't think I have to tell you that you'd better stick around. It's what you do. Or to take care of him—I mean, you'd better take care of him, Connor, but that seems... like the sort of thing you're inclined to do anyway. If it'd make you feel better, I suppose I can try for more threatening?"

Again, I couldn't help but laugh. "No, no. That's, um, not necessary. I guess I just want you to know that I—I intend to. You and Mattias have both been there for me through a lot, never made me feel weird or pathetic for holding onto the idea that I might?—"

I shook myself, the strange afternoon falling over me in a cold, shivery kind of way.

"Anyway, I appreciate it, and I mean to return the favor to you both. However I can."

When I glanced over again, Jessamine was smiling right at me. The approval gleaming from her eyes made me so uncomfortable in my skin that it was nice to have an excuse to look away. Had to pay attention to the road and all that.

"I know, sweetheart," she said quietly.

I nodded. That was enough for me.

For a few minutes, we were quiet, but then I noticed Jessamine rubbing her hands together. She'd been quilting all day, and her hands must've hurt.

When she put them in her lap, they trembled slightly. She stretched her fingers out as far as they'd go and then let them curl back in. Her knuckles were swollen, fingers slightly canted to one side.

Truth told, I'd never really thought much about being unable to rely on my own body. It was hard to imagine, until you were confronted with the reality of it yourself, or watching someone you loved go through it.

I—

I'd never really known my grandparents, and I couldn't imagine my mother tolerating anyone at her side through the aging process. But I realized then that I loved Jessamine like she was my own, and it hurt to see her disappointed or in pain.

"Do you take anything for it?" I asked.

She caught my eye and I glanced down at her hands, but she seemed to already know what I was talking about.

"Just some aspirin when it's bad."

"I think there's more they can do now. I'd love to help you look into it, if you're interested."

Long and slow, she sighed. "I don't know. I don't really—I don't want to spend the rest of my life trying to cure, well, aging. If it's not this, it'll be something else."

"Even if it can make it easier to do the things you love?"

She made a little sound, smiling when she looked down at her lap. "Stubborn, aren't you? I'll... think about it."

"And I'll be here if you ever change your mind," I promised.

We pulled up in front of the inn, and she'd already gotten out by the time I got to her side, but I could carry her bag and offer her a hand when she started up the porch steps.

I was watching her feet, so I didn't see whatever had made her stop in her tracks and draw in a gasp, at least not right off.

But then, the front door creaked open.

"Daddy! I found you!"

All the air rushed out of my lungs in a strangled rasp as I spun around and looked down into the eyes of my—my kid.

They grinned wide and held their arms out before they rushed forward and hugged my hips. Mattias came out right after them, a hand on his gran's elbow to steady her while I was pretty fucking sure my world had tilted upside down.

Jessie was there.

My Jessie.

Exactly the same as they'd been the last time I saw them, with their light, soft curls and bright eyes and frog shirt and?—

Oh god.

I swung them up into my arms, only to fall to my knees a second later, my body wrapped around them, arms holding them close, determined to never, ever let them go again.

"Daddy?"

Too tight, I reminded myself. I was holding on too tight.

I leaned back, gripping their shoulders. I couldn't—I couldn't let go of them, not ever.

They reached out with tiny hands and touched my face. "Why are you crying?"

I laughed, the sound wet and overwhelmed. "I'm just so happy to see you, bug," I rasped.

Fuck, I couldn't help it. I pulled them in again, burying my nose in their hair. They smelled like—like their shampoo. The same stuff I'd always used on them, sweet like strawberries. But they also smelled like something wilder, and like—like Jessie.

I sobbed against their shoulder, and their little arms wrapped around my neck. "It's okay, Daddy," they whispered, patting my back.

It was so far beyond okay, but it was also impossible. They were exactly the same, and it didn't make any damn sense, and I also didn't care, because there was my baby.

"Mr. Matty said we could make chocolate chip cookies, so there's no reason to cry, okay? There's gonna be chocolate."

When they pushed me back, they stared into my eyes, their own spread wide, pressing me to realize the gravity of what they were saying. Cookies, after all, made everything better.

"That sounds amazing," I said, throat so tight I could hardly get the words out.

I looked up at Mattias, his own eyes shining, and he smiled. Nodded.

We were going to make cookies.

This was real.

My Jessie was back.