The Heart - Kate Stewart Page 0,53

since we’re dedicating the center to Grant.” She pushed another spoon of sweet potatoes into Annabelle’s reluctant mouth, and I chuckled as she spit them out. Dallas blew out a harsh breath of frustration.

“You are a mean baby,” Dallas said as Annabelle smashed the discarded sweet potatoes into her highchair tray with her chubby hand, challenging her mother with a loud “No.”

“Let me try. Eat something, babe,” Dean said, taking the spoon from my sister. Every day, my respect and love grew for the man who worked hard to take care of his family. Dean had come back for my sister years after they’d split up and won her back through his love and devotion, which remained a staple of who he still was to this day. I looked on as he spooned another bite of sweet potatoes from the jar. Annabelle took his bite, fooling both of her doting parents and playing with it in her mouth. And just as they praised her, she spit it out. My father laughed loudly at his granddaughter’s cruelty as Dean pleaded with his daughter to cooperate.

I looked back at my mother, who was still waiting for a response to her question. “I’ll speak, but I hope you all know not to say anything to anyone about Grant, especially the crew and new employees.”

My father simply nodded in understanding as he filled his plate with food.

My mother and sister looked at me confused. “I mean, I know the name of the center will be questioned, but we can just tell them he was a dear friend of the family without going into specifics. I had to endure months of sympathy and answering questions. It wore on me, okay? It’s my story to tell and only if I choose to. I don’t want you all telling it for me, to anyone, okay?”

I got a collective agreement from the table and sat back in hopes that it remained that way. Though my reasons for asking them now were specific to Jack, I truly hated the unwanted sympathy offered whenever I shared that my fiancé had died a week before our wedding in a horrific car accident. It wasn’t something I freely talked about to anyone except Dallas, and even our conversations had died in frequency. Nothing about it seemed therapeutic to me. I didn’t want to relive what happened. I only wanted to remember the time I had with Grant. And for now, that meant to keep my memories separate from the current life I was living. As fucked up as it might have been, I’d compartmentalized everything. And when I was struggling to breathe or simply exist as a human day-to-day, ritual seemed the only thing that kept me grounded.

I still replayed my time with Grant every day, down to the smallest possible detail. Even considering my new situation with Jack, I remained faithful to my promise to never forget Grant. My heart remained faithful to him and yet my affection for Jack seemed to stem from somewhere similar. I silenced the judgment that brewed inside of me. I reasoned that as long as I kept Jack within the set parameters, I could keep my promise.

The next day after a long shift at the hospital, I wanted nothing more than my drab ritual of a hot bath and a mind-numbing amount of wine. I was absolutely floored when I arrived home to see a party in full swing at the center. Two large red tents were erect at the side of the main building on the grass and there looked to be at least forty people or more beneath it. Zydeco music wafted through the air, and I could easily detect the smell of heat-filled spices. Slightly irritated that no one had mentioned a party by so much as a text, I stomped my way into one of the tents, looking for a Whittaker’s ass to kick.

My mother and Jack were front and center as Jack hooked opposite arms with her and they both stomped their feet in what I could only guess was a jig. Jack was flawless in his delivery as my mother struggled but kept up nicely. Her face was lit with so much excitement that a small amount of my anger diminished. I heard my name being called but ignored it as I watched Jack in his element. His enamored look for my mother as he taught her a thing or two was enough to make me want to go