At Peace
Page 158
I dropped my head to rest my forehead against his. “I want him on the shelves,” I watched Joe close his eyes again and pressed on, “with Sam,” Joe’s hand clenched my ass as I finished on a whisper, “and Tim.”
Suddenly, he knifed up to sitting, taking me with him, both arms wrapped tight around me and I knew it was in order to set me aside so I held on.
“Joe –” I said to his profile, his head was turned away.
“Not ready for that, Vi.”
“Joe –”
He turned to me and repeated, “Baby, I said I’m not ready.”
If he wasn’t ready after seventeen years, it was time for him to be ready.
“He’s part of you, Joe, which means he’s part of this family. Let me bring Nicky home.”
I watched his face get hard and his hands moved to grasp my waist, definitely ready to set me aside but I clenched my thighs on his h*ps and held on harder with my arms.
“You said you’d help me with Sam and you are. And you said I could help you let what happened with Nicky go and you have to start letting me do that.”
His face stayed hard and his voice was tight when he said, “I’ve let it go.”
I risked moving my hands to his jaws and whispered, “Joe, you won’t even look at his picture.” Joe glared at me, his fingers gripping my waist hard and I risked more. “He was beautiful, honey.”
He closed his eyes again, pain slicing through his face and my fingers tensed at his jaws.
“Christ, Vi –” he started.
“And you’ve always been beautiful.”
His eyes opened and the pain was there too.
“Baby –” I whispered when I saw it.
Joe cut me off. “I got rid of ‘em.”
“What?” I asked.
“The photos, his clothes, his crib. Everything.”
I felt the sting of tears in my eyes when I asked, “Why?”
“Breadbox,” he answered and I blinked, feeling a tear slide down my cheek.
“What?”
“His casket. The size of a breadbox.”
At his words, what they conjured and knowing that memory was burned on his brain, the sob tore from my throat. I couldn’t stop it and it was so strong it seared a path of fire.
“Joe –”
“She’d been straight since before she got pregnant. The longest she’d gone. I thought we had it beat.”
“You don’t have to explain this to me.”
He went on like I didn’t speak. “The Bonnie she was, I’d never leave her with him, not with Dad that f**kin’ sick. I’d never even have a kid with her. But I didn’t think she was that Bonnie anymore.”
“Joe –”
“So I left her with him.”
“You didn’t have a choice, baby. You had to keep your family fed.”
“I thought we had it beat,” he murmured.
“Stop it, honey. You weren’t responsible for that.”
He pulled in breath, closed his eyes and kept them closed a long time before he opened them. Then his fingers wrapped around my wrist and he pulled my hand down to his chest so I could feel the strength of his heartbeat.
“He’s here, buddy, that’s all I could take, that’s all I need. I had to let go the rest. The rest is too much,” he told me.
I was a mother and I was a widow. I knew better than that.
“You need all you can get,” I whispered.
“Can’t take anymore,” he replied.
I pressed my hand into his chest. “That just isn’t true.”
“Vi –”
“Bring him home.”
“Violet –”
“Let me bring him home.”
“Buddy –”
I pulled my hand from his and put it back to his face. “He’s a part of you and I want you, all of you. I want my girls to have all of you. Joe, honey, please let me bring him home.”
We stared at each other again for a long time before Joe whispered a tortured, “Fuck… get it.”
I didn’t delay. I let him go, jumped from the bed and went to the dresser. I pulled the picture frame from the drawer and hustled back to our bed. Then I climbed into Joe’s lap, snuggled close and kept my eyes glued to his face when I turned the picture to him.
Joe’s eyes locked on the picture and the pain came back, stronger, contorting his features as I felt his body turn solid against mine.
When he didn’t say anything, I whispered, “You looked at peace.” My tears could be heard in my words but Joe’s eyes didn’t move from the picture.
“I had the world sleepin’ on my chest,” he replied, his voice low, thick.
I looked at the photo. “Funny how the world can fit in your arm.”
“Funny,” Joe repeated quietly and I looked at him to see that now he was looking at me and then his arm slid around me.
“Joe –” I started, new tears gliding down my face.
“Put him on your shelves, buddy.”
I hugged the photo to my chest and wiped the wetness from my cheeks. The only words there were to say were the words I said.
“Thank you.”
Before I could move he asked, “Girls there when Theresa gave you that?”
I nodded. “Keira said you looked hot, even holding a baby.”
A short laugh came from him. It sounded startled like he didn’t think he’d ever laugh again.
Then he looked down at my chest and muttered, “Fuck.”
“What?” I whispered and his eyes came to mine.
“He’d be old enough to date Kate,” he answered.
I didn’t know what to do with this or what Joe was doing with it so I stayed still and silent and waited.
“Fuck,” Joe repeated.
I braved the uncertain vibe and informed him, “He got even a little of you, Dane wouldn’t stand a chance,” Joe looked at me and I continued, “or Keira would make him her mission and they’d likely be fightin’ over him.”
His hand slid up my back until his fingers sifted into my hair.
“It sucks, sayin’ this, I hate to say it but I’m going to,” he said.
“What?”
“He lived, I might still be with her and you’d be next door and I wouldn’t be right here.”
Quickly, I reminded him, “For good or for bad, that didn’t happen, Joe.”
“You’d be here, alone, or… fuck, you’d be with Haines,” he went on like I didn’t speak.
Suddenly, he knifed up to sitting, taking me with him, both arms wrapped tight around me and I knew it was in order to set me aside so I held on.
“Joe –” I said to his profile, his head was turned away.
“Not ready for that, Vi.”
“Joe –”
He turned to me and repeated, “Baby, I said I’m not ready.”
If he wasn’t ready after seventeen years, it was time for him to be ready.
“He’s part of you, Joe, which means he’s part of this family. Let me bring Nicky home.”
I watched his face get hard and his hands moved to grasp my waist, definitely ready to set me aside but I clenched my thighs on his h*ps and held on harder with my arms.
“You said you’d help me with Sam and you are. And you said I could help you let what happened with Nicky go and you have to start letting me do that.”
His face stayed hard and his voice was tight when he said, “I’ve let it go.”
I risked moving my hands to his jaws and whispered, “Joe, you won’t even look at his picture.” Joe glared at me, his fingers gripping my waist hard and I risked more. “He was beautiful, honey.”
He closed his eyes again, pain slicing through his face and my fingers tensed at his jaws.
“Christ, Vi –” he started.
“And you’ve always been beautiful.”
His eyes opened and the pain was there too.
“Baby –” I whispered when I saw it.
Joe cut me off. “I got rid of ‘em.”
“What?” I asked.
“The photos, his clothes, his crib. Everything.”
I felt the sting of tears in my eyes when I asked, “Why?”
“Breadbox,” he answered and I blinked, feeling a tear slide down my cheek.
“What?”
“His casket. The size of a breadbox.”
At his words, what they conjured and knowing that memory was burned on his brain, the sob tore from my throat. I couldn’t stop it and it was so strong it seared a path of fire.
“Joe –”
“She’d been straight since before she got pregnant. The longest she’d gone. I thought we had it beat.”
“You don’t have to explain this to me.”
He went on like I didn’t speak. “The Bonnie she was, I’d never leave her with him, not with Dad that f**kin’ sick. I’d never even have a kid with her. But I didn’t think she was that Bonnie anymore.”
“Joe –”
“So I left her with him.”
“You didn’t have a choice, baby. You had to keep your family fed.”
“I thought we had it beat,” he murmured.
“Stop it, honey. You weren’t responsible for that.”
He pulled in breath, closed his eyes and kept them closed a long time before he opened them. Then his fingers wrapped around my wrist and he pulled my hand down to his chest so I could feel the strength of his heartbeat.
“He’s here, buddy, that’s all I could take, that’s all I need. I had to let go the rest. The rest is too much,” he told me.
I was a mother and I was a widow. I knew better than that.
“You need all you can get,” I whispered.
“Can’t take anymore,” he replied.
I pressed my hand into his chest. “That just isn’t true.”
“Vi –”
“Bring him home.”
“Violet –”
“Let me bring him home.”
“Buddy –”
I pulled my hand from his and put it back to his face. “He’s a part of you and I want you, all of you. I want my girls to have all of you. Joe, honey, please let me bring him home.”
We stared at each other again for a long time before Joe whispered a tortured, “Fuck… get it.”
I didn’t delay. I let him go, jumped from the bed and went to the dresser. I pulled the picture frame from the drawer and hustled back to our bed. Then I climbed into Joe’s lap, snuggled close and kept my eyes glued to his face when I turned the picture to him.
Joe’s eyes locked on the picture and the pain came back, stronger, contorting his features as I felt his body turn solid against mine.
When he didn’t say anything, I whispered, “You looked at peace.” My tears could be heard in my words but Joe’s eyes didn’t move from the picture.
“I had the world sleepin’ on my chest,” he replied, his voice low, thick.
I looked at the photo. “Funny how the world can fit in your arm.”
“Funny,” Joe repeated quietly and I looked at him to see that now he was looking at me and then his arm slid around me.
“Joe –” I started, new tears gliding down my face.
“Put him on your shelves, buddy.”
I hugged the photo to my chest and wiped the wetness from my cheeks. The only words there were to say were the words I said.
“Thank you.”
Before I could move he asked, “Girls there when Theresa gave you that?”
I nodded. “Keira said you looked hot, even holding a baby.”
A short laugh came from him. It sounded startled like he didn’t think he’d ever laugh again.
Then he looked down at my chest and muttered, “Fuck.”
“What?” I whispered and his eyes came to mine.
“He’d be old enough to date Kate,” he answered.
I didn’t know what to do with this or what Joe was doing with it so I stayed still and silent and waited.
“Fuck,” Joe repeated.
I braved the uncertain vibe and informed him, “He got even a little of you, Dane wouldn’t stand a chance,” Joe looked at me and I continued, “or Keira would make him her mission and they’d likely be fightin’ over him.”
His hand slid up my back until his fingers sifted into my hair.
“It sucks, sayin’ this, I hate to say it but I’m going to,” he said.
“What?”
“He lived, I might still be with her and you’d be next door and I wouldn’t be right here.”
Quickly, I reminded him, “For good or for bad, that didn’t happen, Joe.”
“You’d be here, alone, or… fuck, you’d be with Haines,” he went on like I didn’t speak.
