grandchildren. She was never going to take part in the mother-son dance at our weddings. She was never going to know how much success Derek had found.
“Stop it, Jax,” Derek scolded. “Don’t do that shit, okay? Don’t carry that on your shoulders.”
“It’s hard not to when I’m the reason—”
“You’re not!” he hollered, making other people turned to look at us both. His voice was loud and powerful as his face turned red from his annoyance. Then, his voice cracked as he lowered his volume. “You’re not responsible for that shit, Jax. It was a long time ago, and you can’t hold that on your shoulders forever. It wasn’t your fault. Someday you have to let that go.”
“I don’t see that ever happening. I’m the reason she’s gone, Derek, and I love you for acting like I’m not, but I know better. Anyway, sorry for bringing it up. Let’s change the subject.”
The easiest way to upset my brother was by saying I was responsible for Mom’s death, but he was there. He was out there in the woods with me when I pulled the trigger. He knew what went down. There was no denying what I’d done.
Still, it tore him up inside to know that I blamed myself. Therefore, I’d do my best to not talk about it, especially when my time to visit with him was so short. The rest of the night was spent, trading stories of our past and talking about the future. Before dinner was over, Derek asked me a very important question that I was more than honored to answer.
“Jax, will you be my best man?”
29
Kennedy
I missed Jax. I felt like a broken record with the amount of times I told myself I missed him, too. It blew my mind how much I could miss someone that hadn’t even been in my life that long. I did my best keeping busy, though, and thankfully, the words were still flowing.
Most of my weekend was spent in the library, with breaks to go get lunch at Gary’s Café. Marty was more than willing to chat with me some about my writing. It turned out he wrote for fun, too, and mentioned we should have writing nights if I were up for it.
I liked that idea of having someone to talk to if I was stuck on my plot line. Then, during any down time, I’d think about Jax—write, eat, Jax. Wash, rinse, repeat.
On Saturday afternoon as I ate my second slice of red velvet cake at the café, I smiled brightly when I noticed Connor outside passing out flyers to passersby. I didn’t know what he was up to, but I knew he was hustling. I’d never met a kid with such a strong work ethic. When he came barging into the café, everyone greeted him with bright smiles, because Connor was loved by everyone he knew.
“Hey, Kennedy!” he said, smiling ear to ear. “How are you doing?”
“Great, Connor. How are you? How’s your mom?” I asked. A few days ago, Connor told me that his mother was fighting cancer and doing a great job at the battle. When he talked about his mother, he spoke as if she was the greatest woman alive. I loved that about him. There was always something special about a boy loving his mother.
“She’s doing really good actually! I have no doubt things are on the up-and-up.” He held out a flyer and business card toward me. “Speaking about being on the up-and-up, I was wondering if you’d leave a Yelp review for JAC Landscaping.”
I raised an eyebrow at the business card and couldn’t help but laugh. “Does Jax know that you started a business while he was gone?”
He smirked. “I thought it would be better to surprise him with the news when he got back to town. Keep it on the down low, will you? I already have a few new clients reaching out to us after they saw your work in progress.”
“He’s going to kill you, Connor,” I snickered, shaking my head.
“Yeah, well, what else is new?” He glanced at his cell phone. “Sorry to cut this short, but I have to get down to the church to pass out these flyers. They are just getting out of choir rehearsal, and I’m sure Jesus would love some of them to have blessed lawns. Bye, Kennedy!” He disappeared as quickly as he arrived, passing out flyers to anyone who walked pass him.