Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

This time Jace wasn’t concerned about being incognito. He parked his personal truck on the street in front of Mary Ann’s house, walked up to the door, and rang the bell.

She didn’t seem at all surprised to see him. In fact, it appeared to Jace that she had been expecting him, judging by the way she simply waved her hand over the entryway of the cottage for him to come inside.

Mary Ann looked good, he’d give her that. She’d always been beautiful, but there was a maturity about her now that she wore well. She was in jeans, a T-shirt, and a pair of sandals. Her blond hair was tied back in a ponytail and her face was bare. No makeup. When they’d been together she wouldn’t leave the house without taking at least an hour to do her face and hair. It used to drive Jace nuts. They lived on a cattle ranch, for goodness’ sake.

He could tell she was taking him in the same way he was her. Jace watched her gaze fall to his left hand, where he wore his wedding ring. It hadn’t occurred to him until now that she may be married too. But when he snuck a glance he saw that her ring finger was bare. Still, it didn’t mean she wasn’t in a committed relationship. For all he knew she was still with the French dude.

He took a quick look around the cottage. It was sparsely furnished. Just a sofa, matching chair, coffee table, and medium-sized flat-screen TV, which he suspected came with the place. Through the dining room he could see a table and four chairs. There wasn’t anything on the walls or any of the usual personal items you’d find scattered throughout a room, like books or photographs or even a stray pair of shoes. It gave him hope that Mary Ann wasn’t planning to stay, and that the cottage was just temporary lodging while she was passing through.

“Would you like something to drink?” Mary Ann broke the strained silence.

“No, thanks. Why don’t I just cut to the chase?”

She gave a solemn nod, as if she was resigned to a confrontation. “At least take a seat. I’d rather not do this while you’re towering over me, being intimidating.”

It was a cheap shot. He was standing a good five feet away and had never once in their entire marriage done anything that could be construed as intimidating. But Jace took the chair and waited for her to settle in on the sofa.

“What are you doing here, Mary Ann?”

“I think that’s obvious. I’m here to see my sons.”

“Why? For six years you couldn’t be bothered with them. So why now?”

Her gaze dropped to her feet and there was a long stretch of silence before she said, “Because I miss them.”

“You miss them.” He let out a bitter laugh. “That’s pretty rich, don’t you think?”

When she didn’t respond he continued, “But you didn’t miss them a year ago, or a year before that. You didn’t miss them when Travis graduated from high school or when Grady hit his first home run in Little League or any of the other milestones mothers celebrate with their children. You didn’t miss them when they cried themselves to sleep at night because you promised to call and never did.

“But now you miss them.”

She was sobbing. He hadn’t been prepared for that and he resented it. It was manipulative, and he wouldn’t let himself be moved by her tears. Travis and Grady had shed too many for him to feel sorry for her.

“You don’t think I regret missing all those things, missing a huge part of their lives? I regret it every day. All I want to do is make up for it.” She wiped her face with her hand, then got up and came back from the bathroom with a wad of tissues.

“You can’t make up for it,” he said. “Leave them alone, Mary Ann.”

She shook her head. “No. They’re my children. I love them and I want to make this right.”

“How? By leaving them again? If you love them, you’ll leave them alone.”

“You’re wrong. I have every right, Jace. They’re every bit my flesh and blood as they are yours.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you help raise them?”

“I made a terrible mistake.” She choked on a sob. “It was selfish and it was wrong, but I was a different person back then. I was a child, for God’s sake. A lot has happened, Jace. I’ve had time to reevaluate my past . . . my future . . . I’m ready to be their mother.”

He laughed that bitter laugh again. What a piece of work. “That’s not how parenthood works, Mary Ann. Look, I’m asking you to back off. The boys are good, they’re happy, they’re loved, they’re growing up to be fine young men. Travis and Grady have asked me to explain to you that they’re not interested in a meetup. If they change their minds, they’ll let you know.” He handed her his phone. “Go ahead and put your contact information in there. In the meantime, please don’t go to Grady’s school again. It’s disruptive. Not only to Grady but to the other students and school staff. And please don’t call the house again.” He took his phone back and got to his feet. “What are your plans as far as Dry Creek?”

She seemed confused by the question.

“Staying here,” he said. “How long are you planning to stay here?”

She rose too and wiped her eyes. “That’s really not any of your business.”

“Nope, it’s not.” He made his way to the door. “For once try to think about the boys and not yourself.”

“Is that what you’re doing, Jace? Thinking about the boys.”

“That’s what I’ve always done, Mary Ann. While you were out seeing the world, doing God knows what, I was thinking about the boys. Our boys, who you left.”

He walked out before things got really heated.

* * *

“There you are.” Charlie was on the couch when Jace got home, her feet elevated on a mound of pillows. “I tried to call you twice, hoping you’d bring home dinner.”

“Sorry. I went to talk to Mary Ann and didn’t hear the phone ring.”

“You went to talk to Mary Ann? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He threw up his hands in the air. “I did it on the spur of the moment.” He bent over her and kissed her on the lips. “Long day?”

“You don’t know the half of it. Mitch came into the store with his fiancée, but I want to hear about Mary Ann first.”

“Where are the boys?” Jace would talk to them later, but he wanted his conversation with Charlie to be private.

“Travis went out and Grady is still with Cash, Ellie, and Carson. Ellie got a first place, but I think she has one more event. Tell me what happened.” She pulled him down onto the sofa and moved her legs to make room for him, then put her head on his shoulder.

“It was weird seeing her again.”

“What do you mean? What was weird about it?” Charlie pulled away and sat up.

He looked at her. “Not like that. Come on, Charlie. It was weird how she was remorseful and thought that was enough. It was like, ‘Yeah, I really screwed up and now I want to make amends, and everyone should just let me.’ It was cavalier and it pissed me off.”

“Was it really cavalier or does she simply recognize that what she did hurt Travis and Grady immeasurably and she wants a second chance to make it right?”

“What’s the difference?” He was getting annoyed. First Cash, then Sawyer, and now his own damn wife. “Why are you taking Mary Ann’s side in this?”

“I’m not taking her side. I’m just trying to understand where she’s coming from. At the end of the day it’s about the boys.”

“You heard them this morning. They made it perfectly clear how they feel about her being here.”

“What I heard was anger and defensiveness.”

“Yeah, imagine that. They’re angry that their mother ditched them six years ago.” He got to his feet, angry. “I’ll go scrounge up something for dinner.”

“Talk about defensive,” she called after him. “Can’t we just have a conversation about this?”

“Apparently not.”

“Well, who’s fault is that?”

He went in the kitchen, rummaged through the fridge, and didn’t find a damned thing to make, even though there was plenty of food. He plopped down on one of the stools, rested his face in his hands, and let out a long sigh. He took a moment, then went back to the living room.

“Let’s go to Gina’s,” he said.

“What about the kids?”

“They can fend for themselves. You up for it?”

“I’m up for anything that doesn’t involve me cooking—or fighting.” She gave him a hard look.

“I’m sorry,” he said and tugged her up off the sofa into his arms. “I’m wound up.”

“Why are you letting her do that to you? Why are you giving her that kind of power?” She locked eyes with him.

He thought it was obvious why and was about to tell her that when he thought better of it. It would only trigger another argument.

“Let’s have a nice dinner out and not talk about this tonight. Tell me about Mitch.” He wanted to talk about Mitch like he wanted a hole in his head, but it was better than dwelling on Mary Ann.

Charlie found her purse and on the way to Jace’s truck said, “I liked her.”

“You liked who?”

“Mitch’s fiancée, Cheryl. She’s so open and sweet. And just a bundle of enthusiasm.”

“Well, Mitch will fix that.”

Charlie stopped in her tracks and Jace could feel her instantly tense. “Is he really that awful?”

“No. He’s not like that.” Physically abusive. He didn’t have to spell it out for Charlie. She’d lived it with her ex. “At least not that I know of. He’s a pompous son of a gun, but I grew up with the guy and he’s never laid a hand on a woman in front of me. Ask Aubrey.”

“Aubrey just thinks he’s a joke.” Charlie started laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“When she saw him today at the store Aubrey told him that he owed her two thousand dollars for her out-of-pocket wedding expenses. You should’ve seen the look on his face.”

Jace laughed too. It was the best thing he’d heard all day. “How did old Mitch take that?”

“You wouldn’t believe it, but he wrote her a check on the spot. I don’t think he ever told Cheryl about Aubrey, or Jill, and was mortified.”

“As he should be. Aubrey better hurry up and cash that check before Mitch puts a stop payment on it.”

“He wouldn’t, would he?”

“Nah. He’s probably afraid Aubrey will kick his ass.”

“I hope he’s good to Cheryl because she’s truly lovely. He did seem dazzled by her, I will say that.”

Jace parked in front of the restaurant so Charlie wouldn’t have too far to walk.

“He told Brett and me that she’d made him a better man.” Jace threw back his head and laughed. “The guy is so full of crap.”

Charlie poked him in the arm. “When did you become so cynical? Maybe it’s true.”

“Maybe you just want to see the best in people.”

“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe because I’ve seen the very worst it makes me want to believe.”

He squeezed her arm. “You’re a good person, Charlotte Dalton. Best thing that ever happened to me, that’s for damn sure.”