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The clouds dissipate and the morning sun shines, illuminating the destruction left in the storm’s wake. During the drive from Jim’s home, the roads were littered with broken branches and leaves. All the houses on my street are intact, as if we didn’t just experience more than eight hours of rough weather. There is an overturned flowerpot here, some door mats askew over there, and a few garbage cans out of place.
Except for my house.
The once sturdy roots of my maple tree have been ripped from the ground, peeled back like an orange, and broken limbs and shingles are scattered across the lawn.
Jack comes around the corner after assessing the damage inside with Wolf and Nate.
“I don’t think that is supposed to go there.” I point to the tree that has become one with my roof. The entire section over the kitchen has collapsed along with my back deck. My patio chairs, now buried under the timber on the ground, are twisted and broken beyond repair.
“You’re always saying you need some greenery in the house.” Jack tries his best to make light of the dark situation.
The tears refuse to fall, instead they fill my vision in a watery attempt to block out the destruction. Wiping my eyes with the sleeves of my sweater, I let Jack pull me in against his chest. His heartbeat thumps against my ear and I match its rhythm to slow my breaths.
“So how bad is it?” I push back and laugh, knowing my house is fucking wrecked.
“Well, you’ll need a good mop.” His grin lightens the mood a bit. “In all seriousness, Harper, the water damage is extensive. We’ll have to rip out most of the drywall, insulation, flooring; the entire kitchen will need to be gutted. The tree must have come down hours ago. Everything is saturated.” His hands rub my shoulders as I shiver in the lingering cool breeze before guiding me to the front of the house.
“Can I go in?”
“It’s not safe. We still need to assess the structure.” He points to boxes and bags in the back of his truck. “But I was able to gather up things for you and Silas. Since your bedrooms are at the other end of the house, those things were spared but you can’t stay here.”
Frankie and Garret pull up behind us and park on the street. With a chainsaw and ropes in hand, they nod at us before walking into the backyard. Moments later, a second truck arrives with the rest of Jack’s crew.
“Come on, we need to get out of their way. There’re going to be more trucks here in a few minutes.” Jack urges me to his truck. Opening the door, he helps me inside. Dazed, I sit there, picturing the devastation that is now my kitchen and living room. The empty cabinets with broken dishes spread across the floor, the fridge filled with food, only hours away from rotting without power. No more curling up on my overstuffed couch to read a book, or just relaxing to the mechanical ticking of my old clock.
Jolting forward, feeling panic in my chest, I turn to get out, but Jack blocks my way. “What’s wrong?”
“The clock.” Those stifled tears now fall freely down my face.
“I got it, Harper. I found it under the couch. It must have skittered across the floor when the tree hit the house, knocking it off the wall.” He wipes my tears with his thumb. “It’s one of the few things Nate and I could salvage.”
The clock, a black and white cat, looked strange in my house. I love greens, blues, yellows, and reds. All the colors, really, and my love of the color palette was obvious all throughout the house. But the clock stood out. And that is because it was from my family’s home. One of the few things I kept. Knowing that it is safe and secure, somehow soothes my nerves.
“What am I going to do?”
“You’re going to stay with me.”
Pushing away from him, I begin to argue. “No, you only have two bedrooms. Your place is tiny.” I rest my hand on his cheek, feeling the softness of his beard against my palm. “Just take Silas. I’ll figure something out.”
“We can figure it all out later, but for now, you are coming home with me.”
* * *
“Momma! Did you see?! All my toys are here!” Silas’s room now holds all of his worldly possessions inside. Stacks of books fill the corner and every stuffed animal he owns covers his toddler bed.
“I know, baby.” I gesture to his bed. “Looks like there’s no room for you. You might need to sleep in the bathtub.”
“You so funny, Momma.” Slipping out of his pants, he grabs a teddy and squeezes between me and the doorframe.
“Silas, put your pants on!” I say, walking down the hall after him.
“Daddy don’t wear pants when he’s relaxing.” He hops up on the couch and turns the TV on, unbothered by the boxes covering half of the screen. Shaking my head, I pull the throw blanket from the back of the couch and wrap his little body up tight. This is not the hill to die on today.
Aubrey passes me a coffee, and I take a sip, allowing the dark roast to warm the chill in my bones. “Thank you. And thank you for taking Silas while we checked out the house.”
“Of course.” Her kind eyes and gentle smile warm my heart. The one place the coffee can’t help. “I’m so sorry. But you know the guys, they’ll get your place shipshape in no time.”
Wolf and Jack come in the front door, arms heavy with the last of our things. My entire world, tossed randomly into cardboard boxes and bags. But it is all replaceable. The important thing is we are all safe.
“I hope you are right. I still don’t know where I’m sleeping tonight,” I say as I glance around the cottage.
“You can take the bed. I can sleep on the couch.” Jack sets the box down and rubs Silas’s head, fluffing his silky red hair, but he is too engrossed in the movie he is watching to care. If I had any concerns about Silas handling the temporary move before, they have completely vanished now. Jack and I will have the hardest transition.
As for the couch, it is more akin to a loveseat. As much as I appreciate the gesture, there is no way he is going to fit on the couch, but I’m not going to argue in front of Aubrey. The tears are still so close to the surface; I doubt I could get through the conversation without breaking.
Aubrey leans in and whispers, “Isn’t that couch a little... small?” I snicker to myself before taking a second drink of my coffee, noting it is missing something.
This needs some Bailey’s.
“I’m going to head over to Nate’s with Wolf. Violet started baking meals and bread for those still without power. It could be out for a few days.”
“Oh, I should do something.” I start looking around. For what? I don’t know.
“No. You need to rest. You’ve been through enough. But we’ll drop off some chili later.” Aubrey embraces me before leaving.
Shutting the door, I turn and take in the clutter. Four years ago, I finally gave into Jack’s charms after he wore me down, and ever since, our lives have been interconnected. Lovers, then friends, then parents, in what seemed like overnight. Slowly, we grew to depend on each other and to understand the way we think and the way we love. Finishing each other’s sentences, each other’s meals—well, I do that at least. But never have our worlds collided in such a way.
“It’s going to be okay, you know that, right?” Jack walks toward me, taking my hand in his and leading me to the chair. Sitting down, he pulls me on to his lap, wrapping his arms around me. I tuck up my knees and sink back into him, allowing his strength to envelop me for a minute.
“Oh Jack, I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” he whispers.
“For taking over your house. Look! There is barely any room to stand, let alone sit, relax, anything!” With a wave of my hand, I gesture around me.
“Silas looks pretty relaxed.” I roll my eyes as he continues. “There is nowhere else you should be. You should be here with me.” Jack pulls me into his arms again and clears his throat. “With us. The thought of you staying anywhere but here would be too difficult for... Silas.”
Silas is lucky to have two loving parents and, until this morning, two safe homes to make memories in. There is nowhere else I would rather be, but I can’t shake the feeling of being an intrusion, a burden. The one left with no home, no family, then with all options weighed and exhausted... shipped away. A feeling I know all too well.
But he isn’t shipping me away.
“Listen, everything’s going to be okay. All of your important things are already here. Silas, me. We are all here.”
“You?”
“Am I not important to you?”
Pinching his chin, I tug his face toward mine. “Yes, but I think it’s a little cocky to say it yourself.”
“Cocky, eh?” he wags his eyebrows as his hand slips up my back to rest on my neck.
Ignoring Jack’s charms, I rest my head on his shoulders. Stress from the day is felt in every muscle, every joint in my body. Sensing the tension, he rubs the back of my neck and shoulders as we sit there quietly, only the sounds of Silas’s movie in the background.
“Let me get Silas in the tub. Why don’t you sit out on the back deck and unwind,” he quietly suggests. Pushing back, I look into his deep brown eyes. His curly hair is a mess, and his beard is stragglier than normal, but there are no signs of discontent. He is the fucking rock that I cling to, and I love him for it. I just hope one day I can be that for him.
“Thank you.”
*
For being right on the coast, Jack’s place is surprisingly undisturbed. Sitting on the Adirondack chair, I wrap myself up in a blanket and watch the ocean waves as they continue to crash against the shore. The shoreline is littered with a collection of driftwood, seaweed, and other debris that has been washed ashore. The sea is still violent and will take time to settle down after a storm like that.
Despite hearing the dragging sound of the patio door opening, I can’t pry my eyes away from the tempestuous sea. A small glass enters my vision, the smell of scotch wafting through the air, as Jack attempts to catch my attention. Taking the cool glass, I shift my gaze to the amber-colored liquid as it sloshes from side to side.
“Is the boy asleep?”
“He is. Honey is curled up with him.”
Sipping the scotch, I let the familiar burn warm me from the inside. Listing to the side, I rest my head on Jack’s arm. His warm breath dances over my skin before he presses his lips in a chaste kiss on my forehead.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah. It was just a long, draining day.” Resting my hand on his arm, I can feel the taut muscles underneath. “Thank you for everything.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re letting me stay here.” His laughter makes my head shake, prompting me to sit up and peer at him curiously.
“Harper, how many times have I asked you to move in?” His smile is genuine and sweet.
“I know, I know! Bet you never thought I would take you up on your offer.” With a seductive lift of my brows, I couldn’t help but burst out in laughter. With his arm extended behind me, he pulls me closer with a gentle tug.
“I’m happy to have you both here.” We sit in comfortable silence as the waves crash against the beach until the evening air is too cold to stay out any longer.
As Jack locks up the house, I slip into the bathroom to change. Digging through the bag Jack packed for me, I find a pair of yoga pants, a T-shirt, and a pack of my birth control pills. No panties or toothbrush. Not giving a shit anymore, I pull on the clean clothing before gargling mouthwash I found in the medicine cabinet.
The mirror above the sink reflects a tired woman, one I don’t really recognize. Hopefully, after a good night’s sleep, I will feel human again. Opening the door, I find Jack leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for me.
“You couldn’t have packed me any panties?” I level him with my stare.
“Come with me.” He grabs my hands, ignoring my question, and leads me down the hall.
Jack may be a bachelor, but he has a distinct style. The primary bedroom, arguably the largest room in the cottage, has dark navy-blue walls, and thick white curtains frame the windows. The rustic wooden headboard stands out, highlighting the queen-sized bed covered in fluffy pillows and a duvet in a delicate off-white shade.
“Listen, I know this isn’t the best sleeping arrangement. Let’s just get a good night’s sleep tonight and we can figure it all out tomorrow.”
“First you want me to move in and now you want me in your bed? Jack, you are pressing your luck,” I say with a smile.
“It’s not luck, Harper. It’s fate.”