Raining Down Rules (21 page)

Chapter 44

Jemma

I take the stairs to my bedroom two at a time, knowing the looks I’m receiving from Gran’s…or rather, my guests. I can’t do this right now. The entire house feels like it’s closing in on me and I have nowhere to run. How could he tell me that? On this day! My bedroom door opens with a groan and I turn to see Vic making his way through. It’s funny, he automatically ducks as though the doorway is too short for him.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he sits next to me on my bed. How do I answer him? I’m not okay. My Gran is gone, Jordan just confessed his undying love for me, Vic has all these expectations…I’m definitely not okay.

“I take that as a no,” he says softly, and pulls me into a hug. “I hate to say this, but there is someone downstairs I think you should talk to.”

My head pops up, and something in the dark of Vic’s eyes tells me he doesn’t mean Jordan.

“Who is it?”

“I’m not sure I should say, maybe he should just come up and the two of you can talk?”

“He?” I don’t like the careful tone of Vic’s voice or the manner in which he’s delivering this news. “I’ll meet
him
downstairs.” A part of me feels like a wild beast in that I want to growl at Vic for refusing to tell me who’s waiting for me. I square my shoulders as I stand to leave.

“I’ll come with you,” Vic says as he echoes my movement. We walk together down the stairs and I smile and nod at some guests who pat my shoulders in consolation. Vic guides me down the hall to my Gran’s room and my stomach balls into knots as he opens the door for me. Inside, sitting on Gran’s bed, is a man with silver-brown hair cut short around his ears, a neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard, wearing black dress pants and a sky blue button-up shirt. He’s running his long fingers over an envelope in his hand and somehow I find myself staring at the man who left me with Gran all those years ago.

“What in the hell are you doing here?” I say through my teeth, my hands trembling at my waist. “Get out of here, you don’t belong in her room. How dare you come here.”

My father stands and stares down at the envelope in his hands. “Jemma, I’m sorry.” His eyes find mine but I can’t bring myself to look at his face. “She wrote me a letter and asked that I give this one to you.”

I reach out and take the letter from him and start to walk out of the room, but I turn one last time back to my father.

“You can go now,” I say, forcing unwanted tears from spilling down my cheeks. I will not cry in front of the man who abandoned me so long ago. I will not let him see the hurt that still feels so fresh and cuts like a knife.

“I was young, and stupid,” he says solemnly. “Can we talk, maybe catch up?”

Vic squeezes my shoulders and excuses himself. I want to attach myself to him and let him drag me from this room, but he’s too fast and the door is already closing behind him.

“What do you want?” My tone isn’t kind.

“I want to get to know you. I want to have my daughter in my life.”

A singular laugh bubbles from my lips, shocking even me. “Get to know me? You’re kidding, right? You left a four-year-old, emotionally wrecked little girl here sixteen years ago. Despite all the times her grandmother told her you loved her, she couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe a father who loved his little girl would pack her a suitcase and leave her. How could you leave her? How could you leave me?”

My chest is heaving and the tears are flowing regardless of my efforts to stop them. My father makes a move to stand beside me, but I shrug him off.

“You have no right to be here and try to comfort me. You weren’t there for any of the sad times, or the happy ones. Why are you really here?”

He clasps his hands behind his back and begins pacing the room. As I study this man, none of his gestures stir up any memories of the two of us together. Nothing about him seems familiar.

“In the letter I received from Mom before she passed away, she asked that I come to her funeral and try to make amends with you. I wasn’t going to come, but she asked me to bring your letter to you. I didn’t know what to do, but then word came of her passing and I decided I should come.”

He stops pacing, takes a deep breath and releases it through his nose. His hands clench as he folds his arm across his chest.

“When I arrived here in Torrance I was overwhelmed, flooded with memories of your mother and me, and I almost left.” He presses his fingers to his temple and I’m assaulted with a memory of him bent over a hospital bed with this same look. He watched over my battered mother after her car accident just hours before she passed away. “You look so much like her, you know? But then you always took after her more than me.”

“Why, Dad? Why did you leave me?” I haven’t referred to him in that way since I was twelve, but there is something here I can’t quite dismiss. There is a hole that was created in my heart when he left, but now that he’s here, it feels like a tiny part of that hole has been filled in.

“There is no simple answer, Jemma. I was being selfish, and my heart was broken. I figured I would leave you with my mother for a while so I could work through everything. But then time passed, I met someone, and remarried. I was afraid of bringing you into my new life, and then when Julie got pregnant, it made it even harder to bring myself to take you back. I figured you were better off with your grandmother.”

He’s remarried? And I have a brother or sister? A vise has wrapped itself around my chest, cutting my breath short and squeezing me so tight my vision flashes.

“You’re married?” I ask softly.

He swallows hard and looks at me with his brown eyes, yet another trait I didn’t get from him.

“Yeah. For fourteen years. You have a thirteen-year-old brother who is giving us hell, and an eleven-year-old sister.” He blows out a heavy breath and stops pacing the room. “I’d like you to meet everyone.”

“Are they here, in Gran’s house?” All the calm and quiet has left me, and I’m on the verge of screaming at him. How could he bring them here?

“No, they’re at the hotel. Jemma, please calm down. I knew this was going to be hard, but I’d really like to try to be a family.” He makes a move to become closer to me, but the confusion is so heavy I can’t do anything but gape at him and feel cornered like a deer in headlights. So I do what comes naturally—I push him away.

“Look, I’ve got guests here that I need to see. Leave your phone number and where you’re staying, and if I find the time, maybe we’ll get together.”

My father sighs and his shoulders drop. “If that’s what you want, Jemma. But we leave on Sunday.” That gives me three days to decide what I’m going to do. Three days isn’t long enough.

Chapter 45

In the end, I decided to meet with my dad. His wife, Julie, and their kids, Alex and Carly, were nice, though it’s weird knowing I have half-siblings, almost like waking up one morning to find you’ve grown another limb. You really don’t know what to do with it. We exchanged phone numbers with the promise of texting as a start to repairing the relationship that was damaged so long ago. I’m wondering if it’s enough.

Sleeping in the house without Gran has been difficult. I find myself going to her room, lying on her bed, and crying myself to sleep at odd times of the day. The house still smells like her, like fresh warm bread and honey, and it physically hurts knowing I can’t see her again.

I’ve read and reread the letter Gran wrote to me shortly before she passed away. Her words were filled with love, hope, and forgiveness. She asked me to find it within my heart to forgive my father, to know that in some way she had been selfish not to push him and me back together. I know in time things will get easier with him and I’ll find a place in my heart for him, but for now I’m taking it day by day. Everything in me is still so raw, and it festers like an open wound.

I know it wasn’t Jordan’s fault she died, and as much as I wanted to blame him in the beginning, it was no one’s fault. The cancer was too aggressive and the experimental medicines weren’t enough. I’ve texted him a few times to tell him I was sorry about that day of the funeral but I haven’t heard from him. I probably never will.

Vic has sent me a few texts asking if I am okay, and each one I receive is like a punch to my gut. I know where I want to be but I don’t know how to get there. It’s like a divide has fallen between us and I don’t know how to cross it. Have I done too much damage to repair what was there? He told me he loved me and I basically threw it back in his face by accepting Jordan’s trip to Denver. I know now I was more than just scared about how intimate my relationship with Vic had become; I was scared of my true feelings for him. In my life the people I love seem to leave me, so I think in a way I tried to push Vic away. But I won’t do that anymore.

It’s been a week since Gran’s funeral and the days have passed achingly slow. Knowing Vic is off work today, I shower and dress quickly in a cute strappy pink sundress and curl my hair so it hangs in loose waves over my shoulders. I keep my makeup simple all while trying to calm the butterflies doing Zumba in my stomach. It’s now or never, and I’m not willing to accept never.

Driving as fast as I can without risking a police officer pulling me over, I fly down the highway, hoping Vic will be at one of two places this morning. I nearly miss the turnoff to the bumpy, dusty road that winds down to the stream by his house. The trees along the narrow road are still as statues, keeping the dust hovering over the ground. When the stream is in view my heart skips a beat—his truck isn’t parked where I thought it should be. But I won’t give up.

My car stops at the edge of the stream, and I climb out and start walking the small rise to his house. If he’s here working it’s likely he drove his truck closer so he wouldn’t have to haul heavy things so far. That’s what I keep telling myself as I near the top of the rise.

The house, I see it now along with two trucks, one of which is Vic’s. Swallowing the lump I feel in my throat and blinking away tears of the unknown, I walk the rest of the way to the house. It’s changed quite a bit from the last time I saw it. I guess I didn’t realize how often he’s been here working. Where there were only studs and a roof, now there are actual exterior walls clad in wood siding, windows, and a front door. My chest swells with pride at all Vic has accomplished.

The sounds of pounding hammers stop, and shielding my eyes, I look to the roof where Vic and his dad are laying down shingles.

“Jemma?” Vic calls from so high up. He wipes his arm across his forehead and squints down at me. “What are you doing here?” Not the greeting I was hoping for.

“Can we talk?”

“Look, Dad and I have to finish this roof today. Can I call you later?”

My bottom lip begins to tremble and my eyes are stinging. Can it be he’s already moved on? What do I do? I don’t know if I can handle never seeing him again. What if he doesn’t feel the same way about me anymore?

“Vic, I really need to talk to you,” I try again.

This time, his dad steps in. “Go on down, son. Go hear what she has to say.” Vic sighs loud enough for me to hear him, though he climbs down the tall ladder and makes his way over to me. He’s wearing jeans and boots and his white t-shirt is dirty from the black shingles and sweat has soaked through along his back. He has smudges of black dust on his nose and forehead, making me want to clean his face off with my fingers.

“You look good,” he says as his eyes look me over, causing the blood to rise to my cheeks.

“Thank you. The house is looking beautiful. I can’t wait to see it when it’s finished.” I’m stalling, dragging my sandal in the dirt.

“I really need to get back up there and get the roof on. A storm is supposed to blow through tonight and I want the shingles on.” Vic sighs and places his hands behind his head, pulling the muscles in his arms tight. “What did you want to talk about?” His hands move from his head to the back pockets of his jeans.

I’ve never been more nervous in my life. The butterflies doing Zumba in my stomach are now doing Tae Bo. This is not good. Clearing my throat, I reach around Vic’s elbow and pull him toward the small waterfall. The day is peaceful, the air unusually chilly for the end of summer. If a storm is on the way, the current weather gives no indication of it.

“I realized something,” I begin with a deep breath. Vic’s eyes rise in question and heavy tears form on my lids, though I blink them away. “I’ve been silly, stupid, really. So much has changed for me over the last few months and I haven’t exactly dealt with them all with grace. In fact, I would almost say I’ve run from them. But I’m done running. I’m through holding back.” I pull Vic’s hands from his pockets and hold them in mine. His blue-gray eyes look down at me with tenderness. “It’s been so long since someone other than Gran has loved me, I didn’t recognize the feelings in myself. As much as it scares me, Vic, I don’t want this feeling to ever go away.”

Vic steps closer to me, the heat from his body reaching out as though it’s pulling me toward him. He drops my hand and brushes a few strands of stray hair behind my ear, making the butterflies plummet to my knees. Closing my eyes, I lean my head into his hand and savor the feeling of his hand on my skin.

“So, what you’re saying is…” Vic draws out his words, waiting for me to finish. His lips are curved into a thin, hopeful smile.

“I’m saying I don’t want us to fight anymore. And I’m sorry for driving a wedge between us. It was stupid and I was afraid of you leaving me. Which was dumb, because you left anyway,
because
of me.”

“I didn’t leave you, Jemma.” He’s close enough now that our chests touch. Our breathing has become synchronized. “I gave you space to figure out what you wanted. I couldn’t stand in your way if there was someone else you wanted to be with. You needed to figure that out on your own.”

I nod in agreement while looking back into the eyes of someone who has become so familiar to me. Every crease, line, and freckle on his face like a map to my heart.

“So, have you figured it out?”

My hands find themselves resting on Vic’s chest, his heart pounding heavily against my fingers. Smiling, I clench my hands around his t-shirt and quell the desire to pull his lips to mine. Instead, I slowly stand on the tips of my toes, climb my fingers to his shoulders, and whisper into his ear.

“I love you, Vic. I chose you months ago, even though I was afraid to admit it.” His arms engulf me as he lifts me off my feet and spins me around. I let my head fall back as he turns us and his lips brush against my neck, filling my body with goose bumps. We fall to the grassy ground in a heap of laughter until Vic rolls me onto my back with my arms around his neck.

“Say it again. I want to hear it again,” he says, his blue eyes darkening.

“I love you, Vic Harper.” I may not have yelled it, but it was loud enough Vic’s dad gave us a whistling approval and I didn’t even care he heard me. “It’s true. I love you.”

Vic drops his head, brushes his lips across mine, then with tender care, and kisses me. It’s a kiss of promises, of hope and trust. A staking of claim and of reckless abandon. A kiss of love and fever and heat. His tongue glides over and around mine, and as we breathe for each other, I realize I’m home. I’ve found my beacon, my light, the one whose soul matches mine. Nothing will ever be the same again and I’m okay with that. My forever is here and I intend on keeping it that way.