The Davis Years (Indigo) (21 page)

“You’re not going to go see him, are you?”

“I dunno. I thought I didn’t want to see him again, but maybe I need to. The way I needed to go to the apartment and the cemetery today. I can’t decide how I feel, if that makes any sense.”

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “You let me know if you need me. I mean it.”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Jemma. If it’s in my power, I’ll do it for you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Not as far as I can help it.”

He’d said it again. She leaned over the seat and rested her head against his shoulder. For a brief and crazy moment, she thought that maybe she should stay. So what about the job? She could find another job. She’d never find another Davis. Maybe Davis really could be all she needed. Then she came to her senses as he drove up Mary’s driveway and stopped in front of the house. She knew all the reasons that trusting love was a bad idea.

He hugged her before she slid back to her side of the car and opened the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Jemma started regretting her decision not to spend the night with him.

“I’ll call you before I come to get you in the morning. Around eight?”

Jemma raised her eyebrows. “You’re going to get up that early?”

He grinned. “Ha ha. So I’m not a morning person. I’m thinking of something I want us to do tomorrow. So yes. I’m going to get up that early.”

She shut the car door and leaned in through the open window. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early.” He winked at her.

She watched him drive off, thinking of how much she needed time away from him. She was growing too attached. She’d thought about staying way too much over the past few days. And after he’d been there for her that afternoon, not letting her come unglued, it was especially hard to turn away from her feelings for him. But she had to. She couldn’t risk everything for something so uncertain as the possibility that love could fix everything.

***

Davis thought about Jemma’s words long after he was at work and forgetting to bring people water. He also got plenty of dirty looks from the other servers because he hid in the back most of the time so the people from his tables couldn’t ask him for things. That way, his co-workers got stuck bringing his cranky customers new salt shakers and ketchup bottles.

Davis was more distracted than usual that night, and it didn’t take much to distract him from the job he didn’t want to do anyway. Ever since Jemma had brought up Bill, he couldn’t get the man off his mind. Some father. There was a long list of things Davis blamed him for, but one of the biggest was helping Davis ruin his chances with Jemma. On top of Davis’s own stupidity, there had been good old Bill.

He thought back to one of the last times he’d gone to pick up Bill from the hospital before the car accident. Bill had chronic bronchitis, but still thought it was a good idea to smoke cigarettes. That time Bill had had an episode at work, hadn’t been able to breathe or find his inhaler, and he’d passed out. He ended up in the hospital again. The doctor had pleaded with him yet again to stop smoking. Told him he’d done more damage to his lungs. Bill said he would stop. Bill and those broken promises.

Davis remembered sitting across from him, staring into those watery, red-rimmed eyes, hating him.

His dad cleared his throat, but his voice still came out gravelly. “You ain’t have to come down here. I have friends. I coulda gotten somebody to pick me up.”

Davis nodded, picking at his thumbnail. That was his dad, all right.

“I know you can’t stand taking care of me and you wish I wasn’t around. I probably won’t be much longer. This old body is falling apart on me.”

“And whose fault is that?” Davis glared at him.

“I don’t need no lecture from you.”

“Yeah. You don’t need anything from anybody. And nobody better need anything from you, either, huh?”

“What are you talking about, Davis?”

“You always screwed everything up for me. And then you sit here and try to make me feel bad about something I don’t even have control over. You’re the one who smokes. You’re the one who drinks. I do all I can for you and you don’t appreciate it. You never apologize for anything you do wrong.”

“What is going on with you today?”

“I’m real sick of you ruining my life.”

“So now I’m to blame for all the stupid mistakes you make?”

“You know, why wouldn’t I blame you, Dad? I lost the woman I loved and got in a shit marriage. You taught me that it’s wrong to be attracted to someone outside of your race. You taught me that women are all evil and not to be trusted. You tried to teach me not to respect women at all.”

“I told you never to get married. You did that one to yourself, son. She’s sure fun to look at, but them ones are the most trouble most of the time.”

“You really screwed me up, you know. And what about the fact that I had to literally fight for my life when I was younger whenever you got drunk? Which was more often than not.”

His dad looked down at the water pitcher on the tray in front of him. “I was wrong, son. I know that now. What can I do about it? If you hate me, I don’t blame you. I reckon it don’t make sense to get mad. If you don’t want to take me to dialysis anymore, I can find someone else. I understand if you want to leave. Move out.”

Things weren’t going as Davis had expected them to. He didn’t even get to be royally pissed off. His dad looked so sad and defeated and small lying there in the center of his hospital bed.

His dad smacked his dry lips before saying, “Jemma is perfect for you, son. I’m man enough to admit when I’ve screwed up. I could say it was this or that or the other that made me do the things I did. I could blame a lot of really messed up stuff I’ve done on others, but I won’t. I take full responsibility for ruining the relationships I could have had with you and your brothers. Heck, even with your mother.

“I can’t say I didn’t deserve it. I was hell to live with. But you stayed by me, Davis. Even if it nearly killed ya. And I love you more than I think you’ll ever understand for that.”

Davis poured water from the plastic pitcher into a paper cup. He handed the cup to his father both to try to improve the papery quality of his father’s voice and to give himself time to think.

Davis sighed and shook himself out of the memory when the cook yelled at him that his order was up. The cook looked angry, as if he’d been trying to get Davis’s attention for a while. Davis put the plates on his tray and walked toward the table.

His mind slipped back to Bill as he made his way toward the booth at the back of the restaurant where the plates needed to go. Was his father more of a man than him? Hadn’t he tried to own up to all the wrong he’d done? Wasn’t he showing his strength by not telling Jemma that all he wanted was for her to stay? He knew the best thing for her would be to go to Florida. She deserved every opportunity life had to offer her—and ten times more. He was determined not to ask her to stay.

Davis was glad it was a table of college age girls he was serving. Maybe he could flirt his way to a tip because he certainly wouldn’t get one based on the service.

***

Jemma and Mary went into the living room after eating the dinner Jemma had cooked for them.

“You are some cook. Since you’ve been here, I’ve eaten some of the best meals that I didn’t have to cook in a long time,” Mary said as they settled into the couch with their mugs of cinnamon spice herbal tea. Jemma had made baked chicken, green beans, and fresh rolls from scratch. There was peach cobbler for later, but both of them were too full for it at the moment. Mary had asked how Jemma could be full when she’d barely eaten anything. Jemma’s mind had been so full that her stomach seemed to think it was as well.

“Thank you.” Jemma breathed in the warm, spicy aroma of her tea.

“Something’s been bothering you.” Mary turned toward Jemma. “You can’t fool me. I know you didn’t give up a night with that boy to sit here with me.”

“Mary, I haven’t spent enough time with you since I got back. This isn’t—”

“You know that’s not it.” Mary smiled and set her tea on a coaster on the coffee table. “Now, what is it? What’s been worrying you so bad, girl? You can’t even hardly follow a conversation.”

“I went to their graves today.”

“Oh, Jemma.” Mary put a hand on her back.

“I want it to be over, Mary. I went there. I made my peace. I felt fine when I left the cemetery, but now I’m not so sure anymore. What will it take?”

“Honey, this isn’t something you can fix with a Band-Aid or magic words. You will always remember. Both the good and bad. It’s a part of who you are and you will be stronger for it.”

“I don’t feel very strong right now.”

“You’re a smart and wonderful person inside. You were always happy to swap shifts with people at the store. Work the hours nobody wanted to work. And you never complained. You took time out to get to know all of us and the customers. You treated everyone the same and everybody loved that about you. I loved that about you.” Mary moved closer. “You need to find a way to get back to that girl. Stop being afraid to open up and be of all those good things again.” She patted Jemma’s shoulder. “I think a good start would be to stop lying to yourself.”

“Huh?”

“It hurts you what happened. It tears you up, but you never talk about it. You never screamed that I saw. Never threw a fit. Except for that one time on the day of the funeral you told me about when it seemed more about punishing your friends than letting go of the things that hurt you.

“Today, what you did was a good start. But learn to lean on people, Jemma. Take help from a friend. Until you learn to do those things, and learn to really let go and live your life free, you’re never going to get where you’re trying to go in life. You’ll always be bitter and shriveled up inside. And I know that’s not you. You’re trapping that girl I know you still have somewhere deep down in there. Let her out. For my sake. For your friends’ sake. For your own.”

Jemma looked down at her hands. “That’s what I’m trying to do, Mary. I really am.”

“I hope you are, Jemma. I really do. But I have to ask you this question. Why are you really going to Florida?”

“Because everything that’s important to me is there. My future—my job—is there.”

“Everything important, huh?”

“Mary, I love you. I didn’t mean that you’re not important. And Derring will always hold some things that are close to my heart, and of course people, too.” She tried to shut the image of Davis out of her mind as she said that. “But there’s no future for me here.”

Mary shrugged. “All I’m saying is everything happens for a reason. Maybe you being back in Derring is about more than a wedding and that man being up for parole.”

Mary knew about the interview, but not about Smooth asking Jemma to visit him. She hadn’t told Mary about Smooth wanting to see her because she didn’t want to upset the woman.

Jemma sat back against the couch, contemplating Mary’s words. Maybe this was her chance to put a face and a name to her demons and repulse them once and for all. Jemma didn’t think she was meant to stay in Derring, but she did think Mary had a point.

She had a few more days before the interview and she was going to spend them with Davis. They would have the real goodbye she had imagined when she first went back to the restaurant for him that past Friday. She would think only of him. Without the fear of and anger with her past. Then she would deal with Smooth and all that entailed.

Mary and Jemma talked about lighter things for the rest of the evening, but Mary’s earlier words stuck in Jemma’s head. Maybe Jemma wasn’t being honest with herself about a lot of things and maybe that needed to change.

Her talk with Mary did a lot to lighten the burden on her heart. She fell asleep without all the tossing and turning she’d done ever since she’d come back to Derring. In fact, she fell asleep with her head against Mary’s shoulder while an old movie played on the television on low volume.

Davis showed up at eight the next morning, as promised. He wore a crisp white shirt with blue stripes and dark jeans. It appeared he’d pressed both shirt and jeans. He’d even gotten a haircut. His black hair no longer fell over his ears and it tapered down in the back to the nape of his neck. He wore sunglasses so Jemma couldn’t see the blue eyes she loved so much.

He stood just inside the front door, smiling at her as she gathered her overnight bag and purse from the spot where she’d left them in the hallway. “You look great,” he said as he took the bag from her.

“Thanks,” she said. She wore a white strapless sundress and matching sandals. He kept glancing at her as they walked toward the car. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m just really excited about today.”

She grinned. “Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere you’re dressed perfectly for. It’s almost like you can read my mind. Creepy a little bit.” Davis shut the trunk and opened the passenger side door for her. He put his index finger under her chin as she started to get in the car. She stopped and looked up at him. “Somewhere I think you’ll really like. Hope I’m not wrong.”

Jemma was curious as Davis drove off, but he wouldn’t tell her a thing. Her curiosity grew when he got onto the interstate. Then, when he went from 295 to 64 West, she was really perplexed.