-“It Don’t Hurt Like It Used To” by Billy Currington
- -
I narrow my eyes and give Barrett another heated glare through the front window of Davis Auto Works. He just shakes his head and laughs at me, ignoring what I am so sure is one hell of an intimidating expression. He should be quaking in his damn boots knowing the boss is pissed at him, but nope, not him.
I turn in a huff and look around Main Street, not even really believing I just got kicked out of my own damn shop. It’s not even lunchtime yet and I was such a nervous mess all morning that I kept screwing things up. I should be thankful that Barrett finally had enough and made me leave—after, of course, he made sure that I wasn’t upset about anything having to do with Tate. I swear, he was more concerned about the status of our relationship than he was over the wiring I had just done incorrectly on the electrical system for the Tahoe I was working on.
I laugh to myself and kick another rock. When it almost hits Homer, I give up my pity party and acknowledge that there’s only one way to get over some of these nerves. As much as I would love to run to Tate and use his strength, I need to show him I can do some of this on my own. More important, I need him to see that I believe in myself so that he will never doubt that I believe in us.
While I can admit without shame that I need him to come with me on the trip to see my mama—his adoration and strength being something I’m not willing to go without when facing her—I don’t need to be afraid of my brothers, and in using Tate as a shield with them I’d set a precedent I don’t want to, given that I want Tate to be around the rest of my life and all.
I think a lot of the reason I want to do this without him is because of what he confessed to me the other night. I want to prove to myself that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. All I’ve ever done was hide from the things that caused me pain. I used my smile as a shield and pretended like I wasn’t missing part of myself. I didn’t spend years sacrificing myself for someone else like he did. I’m ready to let go and move on so that I can feel this beautiful life with no more pain from the past touching it. With Tate by my side, that will happen, I just know it. But I need to take this next step by myself. Part of me can’t wait to taste the victory that Tate spoke of in awe, but just a small fraction. The bigger part of me wants to get past this on my own so I can play an active role in taking my life back, gain that for myself so that I can hopefully give him the same fulfillment that him fighting for us gave him in the end.
I’m not living with my mistakes, my mama’s, or Tate’s father’s.
Not anymore.
I’m taking my life back, grabbing the man I love, and I will spend the rest of my days learning from my past while I create the most beautiful forever anyone has ever seen.
With that thought in mind, I climb into Homer and send a quick text to my brothers asking them to meet me at home in fifteen.
Then I call Leighton.
“This better be good,” she barks after picking up. “I just had a whole dadgum bag of flour explode all over me and the kitchen. It looks like the North Pole in here!”
I snicker and wait for her to stop grumbling under her breath before I speak.
“You done?”
“I might be,” she fumes. “But I also might just throw in the towel and demand my husband take me back to that stress-free, blissful island in the middle of the tropics. No one feels stress in the tropics.”
“That good, huh?”
She’s silent for a beat before she speaks again, her frustration gone. “Am I allowed to tell you just how good it was?”
“Uh, nope. No, I definitely don’t want to hear about just how good it was.”
“That’s a shame, Q. It was sooo good. He did this thing with his—”
“Leighton, shut the hell up! Jesus Jones, we should have thought out this whole you-lovin’-my-brother thing better.”
She laughs so hard she ends up snorting. “Ack! I just shot flour up my nose!”
“Serves you right, you hag! That’s instant karma right there! Feel the burn, Leigh. Feel. The. Burn.”
“Good heavens, who are you? A Bernie Sanders cheerleader? Hurry up and tell me why you called so I can go get this shit show in order and get outta here. I miss my husband.”
I roll my eyes but smile huge, so happy for her and Maverick. “Speakin’ of that husband of yours—he’s the reason I called, actually.”
“For the last time, I’m not going to be an accomplice so you can get him drunk and get my name tattooed on his ass.”
“Hey, you actually considered that one!”
“Because I was just as drunk as you wanted to get him!” she defends.
“Well, that might be true.”
“Q! Focus. What’s up?”
“Oh, that. I don’t want you to freak out or get all mother hen, okay?”
“No one starts a conversation like that expecting the other person to actually stay calm, you know that, right, Q?”
“I’m on my way home and I asked Mav and Clay to meet me there,” I rush out.
Leigh pauses. “Ohhhkay, and why would that make me freak out?”
“I’m gonna ask Mav to arrange for me to go see Mama.” If I wasn’t driving down the street, this would be when I clamp my eyes shut and wait for my words to register.
“You what?!”
“It’s not that big a deal, I just wanted you to know just in case he was in a mood or somethin’ later. That way you would know what happened and you could, I don’t know, proceed with caution?”
“Are you kiddin’ me with this, Quinn Everly Davis? You wanted me to know in case he’s in a mood? Have you lost your ever-lovin’ mind?” She’s practically screeching into the phone.
I shake my head and thump my thumb against the steering wheel. “I don’t think so. I think I finally found it.”
“That makes no damn sense.”
I love Leigh like she’s my own sister, but I don’t need to explain how I feel about this to her, or to anyone. Me knowing what I need to get done has to be enough now. “You don’t have to understand it, Leigh. I just wanted you to be aware so you could be there for Maverick if he needs you.”
“It’s not Maverick that I’m freakin’ worried about, Q! Maverick is the last person I’m worried about. He’s done his time frettin’ about that shit, and all he’s done for a year is prepare himself for when this moment would come. It’s you I’m freakin’ out about. What does Clay think about this?”
“I already talked to Clay. He’s supportin’ me on this, Leigh. It’s somethin’ I need to do.”
“It’s somethin’ you need to do?” she repeats in disbelief. “And Tate? Does he support this as well?”
My shoulders relax at the mention of Tate and I feel the worry leaving my face, my lips tipping up into a small smile. “Tate would support me if I wanted to drive to the moon.”
She scoffs. “Well, that’s ridiculous, you can’t even drive to the . . . Oh.” With the wind taken right out of her sails, she stops talking.
I laugh gently. “I love you, Leighton. You’re my best friend, my sister, my strength through some hard shit, but I need you to not worry about me. You’ll always be the first two, but it’s time I learn how to be my own source of strength—somethin’ I’m findin’ isn’t as dauntin’ as I believed it to be.”
She sniffles and I feel my nose burning, my own emotions getting wonky.
“That being said, you know how much I love you, Leigh, but when I’m done talkin’ to them you’re not gonna be the first person I run to. Don’t spend the rest of the afternoon freakin’ out, but I need to get this done alone, and when I do, it’s gonna be Tate I run to after. I suspect you aren’t gonna be left wonderin’ what’s goin’ on in your snowy flour kingdom for long, though. You might think my brother’s done his time frettin’ about our mama, but he’s still gonna fret over his sister, and you need to give him what you woulda given me when he comes to you, and we both know you’re gonna be his first stop.”
She lets a choked sob out, and I know if I continue this conversation I’ll lose it, and I need to have my wits about me for this talk with Maverick.
“I love you and I’ll call you tomorrow, ’kay?”
“’Kay,” she agrees on a final sob.
It damn near kills me, but I end the call and toss the phone in the passenger seat, just in time to downshift and pull Homer down the drive toward home. Both Clay and Maverick are sitting on the front porch, booted feet up against the rail while they move their rocking chairs slowly, appearing relaxed even thought I know it’s all for show. I can see, even from my spot parked in front of the house, that Clay knows why I asked both of them here. He’s holding himself in a tense way that makes me think he’s bracing for Maverick not taking it well. He should give Mav more credit.
“Damn,” I hear Maverick call from the porch when I climb out of Homer and shut his door with care. “This Tate’s paw’s old truck?”
I look up at Maverick and smile with pride. “Maverick, meet Homer.”
He lets out a few deep chuckles and ambles down the steps toward me, throwing an arm over my shoulder and pulling me into his ridiculously tall body, my head smacking against his chest with a groan of protest when I feel his sweaty pit on my shoulder. I tip my head back and look up from my position under his arm and smile at him, then reach up and twist his nipple.
“What the fuck, Hell-raiser?” he grumps.
“What have I told you about puttin’ your pits on me!”
He tosses his hands up in exasperation. “I hadn’t even been workin’ long enough for my shirt to get wet, Quinn!”
“You took a step outside and that’s all you need, you big brute.”
He lifts his arm and tilts his head to look at the offending pit I’m talking about, and sure enough, the material of his shirt is wet all around it and emanating a distinct odor that ain’t none too pleasant. Gross, man.
I turn to see Clay standing stock-still on the top step of the porch. “Hey, big brother,” I call up to him.
“You all right, Quinny?” he questions, his eyes searching mine.
“Just wanted to talk to Maverick about somethin’.”
“Huh?” Maverick asks, dropping his arm and looking at me apprehensively.
“Where’s Tate?” Clay asks. Getting the lay of the land, I’m sure.
“I would reckon at work, seein’ as he’s got patients all day,” I reply smartly.
“He didn’t want to come along?”
“Not sure, Clayton, I didn’t tell him I was comin’, but even if I had told him, he wouldn’t have jumped in, knowin’ I want to do this alone. For me.”
“What the hell are you two goin’ on about?” Maverick barks, stepping in between us while looking from Clay to me and back again.
“I’m guessin’, Mav, that our big brother is just tryin’ to make sure I know what I’m doing—which I do, thank you—before we go talk.”
“Talk about what?”
I ignore Maverick’s question and move up onto the porch, placing my hands on Clay’s shoulders and pulling him down while I lift up on the toes of my boots. I kiss his jaw and lean back to look him in the eye. “I’m okay and I know what I’m doin’. I need to do this part by myself, Clay.”
His throat works as he takes a big swallow, but he gives me a nod. I walk around him and into the house, waiting for them to follow me into the living room while I pace in front of the fireplace, my thoughts starting to line up in order with the soothing, repetitive movement.
I stop, turn, and face my brothers, both of whom are standing on the other side of the couch, making no move to actually sit down. Knowing it will be pointless to try and get them to sit and relax, I figure I might as well just go for broke.
“I want you to arrange for me to visit Mama at the facility that you’ve got her at.” I hold Maverick’s gaze, my chest heaving while I wait for my request to finish taking root and the shock to clear from his body.
Clay claps him on the back, encouraging him, and gives me another nod to let me know I should keep going.
“I need to let her go, Mav. I need to let myself see that she isn’t the fantasy I spent my life dreamin’ she would be. I need to tell her I forgive her for bein’ selfish and that I’ll spend my life makin’ sure the man I love always knows I choose him, that I’ll never abandon him or us even when things get difficult. I want to look in her eyes, even if she can’t hear or understand me, and let her know that when I’m blessed with children one day, not even God himself could tear me away from them. I need to do this so I can take all the pain she made me feel over the years and drop it off with her, where it belongs.”
I can see how hard he’s working to keep himself in check. His whole body is coiled in an unnaturally tight way that tells me he’s about to lose the hold he has on his control.
“And I need you to make those arrangements and then let me go do this without you,” I add in a strong voice.
His head drops and I can’t see his expression. I shoot my gaze over to Clay, and his impassive face tells me nothing. We stand like this for what feels like forever while Maverick works through what I just told him. I keep looking between Clay and the top of Mav’s cowboy hat, my heart in my throat.
I’m about to start panicking that I hurt my brother by asking him to let me do this alone, and then Clay clears his throat.
“Look at me, brother,” he tells Maverick, his voice hard but full of respect as he keeps his eyes on me when he says it. When Maverick lifts his head and looks at Clay, only then does Clay look away from me and focus completely on Mav. “You spent a long time keepin’ this to yourself, thinkin’ you had to in order to keep us from feelin’ that pain. You did the right thing by not holdin’ that in, no matter how much knowin’ why Mama left us stung, but you also gave both of us a chance to move on and heal with that truth. You knew this day would come, but I need you to fight against what’s inside you tellin’ you to protect Quinn. She’s got a damn good man who’s doin’ that for us now. We’ll always be there just in case, but you gotta let her do this. Don’t deny her knowin’ she’s gotta let go of that hurt in order to move on and find what you got with Leigh.”
I can’t hold in my emotions now. I know I’m seconds away from breaking out into an ugly cry.
“Fuck!” Maverick bellows, making me jump. A sob escapes my throat, and I hate it for betraying what his silence is making me feel. His eyes shift to me, focusing with a steely force that makes me rock from side to side while I wait under his probing gaze. “You really don’t want us there?” he finally asks, and I feel the meaning behind his question right in my heart.
His hushed, defeated tone spurs me into motion, and I breach the distance between us instantly, walking around the couch to stand in front of both my brothers. They normally keep this part of themselves hidden—the vulnerable side that we all share from the bond built among us during our tornadic upbringing. I gaze up at them, hoping that they can stop seeing me as the little sister that they have to guard from pain and set me free—not only by helping me move past what Mama did, but also to build a life with the man that’s taken the top spot in my heart.
“I love you both more than you’ll ever know, but yes, I need you to let me do this without you. Mav, you’ve spent enough time cleanin’ up her mess, and you don’t need to go back to that. Clay’ll figure her out on his own time and I know his comin’ along would force his hand in dealin’ with her before he’s ready. And,” I sigh and shrug, feeling the power of Tate’s love slam into me right when I need it the most, filling me with the words I need to use to make Maverick see. “Tate’s here now, and with him I’ve got my heart back, Mav. He spent a long time missin’ that part of me too. You don’t live without that for all those years and not want to protect it the best you can. He’ll be there to pick me up if I stumble, help heal me if I feel pain, but it’s up to me to take this last step and solidify that protection myself. I want to do this for him just as much as I do for myself, so I can move on without her pullin’ me back, but I need to do this for me so I can finally let go.”
He rocks forward and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest, where I feel his heart pounding under my head. Clay moves in next, wrapping his strong arms around both of us. I feel my knees buckle when I remember all the times over the years that we would find ourselves in a similar huddle. When we would feel the absence of our mama, not knowing why she didn’t love us; when our father would start spewing his hate; or any other time we just needed to draw strength off each other. It was times like this that would make me believe that no matter what life threw at us, the Davis kids always had this. That will never change: even when, years from now, we’ve built our own families, the core of us will always be here.
“I’ll make the call tonight,” Maverick mumbles into my hair, still holding me tight.
“Thank you,” I tell him, my words muffled against his chest. Pulling the arm smooshed between Clay’s stomach at my side, I wrap it around him and hold both my brothers a little tighter. “I love you guys. Thank you for lettin’ me go.”
Maverick guffaws. “We ain’t lettin’ you go, Quinny, we’re not ever gonna do that, but we’ll stand by and let another man—the right man—keep you safe while we support you from the side.”
I don’t leave for another hour, the three of us not doing any talkin’ but piled on the old couch and lettin’ a television show be the excuse we give for the delay, when all three of us know we just want to be near each other a little longer.
When I head out, waving out the window of Homer, there’s only one place I want to go, and that’s into the arms of the man that’s helped me get to this place of healing.
The man I love.