Page 142 of First in Line
Jax’s hand is on my hip, and it grazes me gently before letting go. While he walks away with his father, Jada leads me out of the kitchen and upstairs, to the room where we put our things.
Once we’re there, I can’t help but notice the emotion in her eyes when she looks at me. “I’m so happy you’re back in our lives, sweetie. In Jackson’s life most of all.”
“I’m glad we’re giving it another shot, too.”
“When we talked on the phone the other day, I had a hunch this would happen. You two were meant for one another. But you needed a bit of time to remember.”
“Your son pulled out all the stops. He was determined. And as we know, once he locks onto a target…”
“He knows what’s good for him.” She sighs, eyes glimmering with joy. “I haven’t seen him this happy in eight years.”
My heart aches both for her and for him. It must have been so hard for her to watch her son struggle for that long. My mother was always too wrapped up in her addictions and problems to have noticed something like that. But for someone as empathetic and maternal as Jada, it must have been terrible to watch her son go through life as if he were missing a part of himself.
“You know how sorry I am that I left him, right?” I ask, throat tight.
She vehemently shakes her head. “No, it wasn’t your fault, sweetie. You had to leave. I understand that now. It takes a strong bond to pull through a tragedy like the one you two endured. And yours was fragile at that point in your marriage. He wasn’t around enough for you, and he’s realized that with time. It’s his biggest regret in life, Evie. Not being there for you when you needed him the most.”
“He tried being there,” I can’t help but defend Jax. “I just… I wouldn’t let him.”
Her hands clasp my arms, comfortingly. As we look at each other for a moment, I search for traces of time on her face. She hasn’t changed much. A few more white hairs. A couple more wrinkles. And a few pounds that make her silhouette a little fuller. But she doesn’t look like she’s aged eight years since I last saw her. Not like Mitch, whose belly has grown along with the white in his hair and beard.
“What’s important is that you’re back together now,” she says with optimism. “And my son rarely makes the same mistake twice.”
“Which is why he’s the world’s best driver.”
She smiles at that. “And why we both know he has the potential to become the world’s greatest husband, if you give him a chance.”
“Don’t tell him I said that, but I’d probably give your son a hundred chances. He has this frustrating ability to subdue my willpower.”
“That, believe it or not, he gets from his dad.”
“Oh, I know Mitch has the razzle-dazzle. He has to, pulling a baddie like you.”
She giggles at the compliment. “Okay, I’ll let you settle in for the night, sweetie. There are extra towels under the sink. And extra blankets in the closet.”
“Jax is a furnace, so I won’t need more blankets. I might needless.”
“That, he also gets from his dad.”
We exchange a long, tight hug, and I realize she smells the same as she always has. Vanilla shea butter and Tide laundry detergent. When she lets go, I see how she discreetly tries to wipe away a stray tear.
“I missed you, sweetie. We both did.”
“I missed you guys, too. When I came back to Colorado, I wanted to come see you. But I was just starting to heal and was worried it would set me back.”
“It’s alright. You did what you had to do for yourself.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
After one more brief hug, she leaves me to return downstairs.
By the time Jackson comes back, I’ve had time to shower, moisturize, and do my evening routine. I’m already in bed, under the covers.
“Hey, you,” he greets, leaning in to give me a kiss.
“Hey. What did your dad want to show you?”
“He’s building a simulation rig in his man cave. He wants to see what it’s like to drive a Formula One car. And he wants his friend to be able to try it.”
