Don't Let Go(40)

“So—how was it when you were pregnant?” she asked, meeting my eyes with an odd look. For a hair of a second I wondered if she was talking about the other one. Noah’s. I opened my mouth, but it went dry as my heartbeat sped up. “I mean, was the dad all involved in it or was it mainly just you?”
The strange question took me off guard even more than my fear of which pregnancy she was talking about. I licked my lips so they’d function again.
“Um—yeah, he was very involved, wanted to know everything, feel every kick.” Both times. I remembered Noah kissing my belly good-bye every day. Hayden spooning me, sleeping with his hand palming my stomach, holding both of us. “I was lucky,” I said, never realizing that before.
“Yes, you were,” she agreed.
I couldn’t get a read on her mood, but it had definitely shifted. “Well, I’m sure you have that, too,” I said, pushing to lighten the air. “Just keep him up on all of it, because they don’t have the advantage we do, of our own little personal dance party going on twenty-four-seven. They just get to look in the window.”
Shayna smiled again, chuckling at that as she looked down thoughtfully. “Good point.”
“You may want to ask mommy advice from someone who values the role,” said a scratchy voice to my right.
We both turned to see Johnny Mack standing behind the counter in front of us, having come around from the kitchen without either of us noticing.
“What?” I breathed.
Without looking at me, he wiped his hands on his apron and patted Shayna’s hand. “You care about family, honey. This one doesn’t. She throws one kid away and never thinks of him again while she raises another to be a heathen.”
My eyes filled with instant tears and every molecule of my body lit up with a blaze of heat. His image swam before me and all I could hear was my own breathing. I couldn’t even look at Shayna. I felt her grip on my hand, and I blinked the tears down my face.
“Don’t say things like that,” I heard her say quietly.
“Honey, you don’t know—” he began, again pretending I wasn’t there.
“What’s wrong with you?” I whispered, my voice too shaky to go louder. “You don’t talk to me for years, and then you go spewing poison like that.”
“I’m still not talking to you,” he said, focusing on Shayna. “I’ve fixed your screwups.”
“You’ve done what?”
“I’m not talking to you,” he repeated slowly, looking me in the eye for the first time. “I’m telling Shayna what I know—”
“You don’t know anything,” I said, not recognizing the raw gravelly tone coming from my throat. I pushed away from the counter. “And how dare you insult Becca like that, you miserable old f*ck. You aren’t even lucky enough to know her.”
“I don’t need to,” he said, leaning over the counter, his wrinkled face older than I remembered noticing. “I have real grandchildren to get to know. My blood.”
I backed up, noticing Shayna’s shocked face drain even paler as she stared at Johnny Mack. I was oblivious to the tears running down my face.
“Rot in hell, old man,” I said, the words choking me even as my hatred for him overwhelmed me. Once upon a time I’d loved him like a father. He’d treated me like his own. It broke my heart and hardened it at the same time. “And you bang on that wall one more time,” I said through my teeth, pushing forward again “and so help me, I will personally come over here and rip everything off of yours. Do you hear me?”
He grabbed a towel and began wiping down the counter as if I’d never been there. Sobs bubbled up and I turned and bolted through the door, pushing a lady out of my way and barreling straight into Noah’s arms.
“Whoa,” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around me to stabilize us both before looking to see who he’d caught. “Jules, what’s—”
I broke free without speaking and pushed past him.
“Jules, wait, what’s wrong?” he said, following me.
“Leave me alone, Noah.”
If I’d only had my purse with me I would have headed straight for my car and driven home. In lieu of that, I yanked open the door to the bookstore and prayed he’d stop.
He didn’t, and the barrage of questions trailed behind me all the way to the break room, the swinging door bouncing in his wake. I whirled on him, adrenaline sending a new wave of hot tears over the edge.
“You’re not allowed back here,” I said, my voice shaking with anger.
“Deal with it,” he said, looking at me with exasperation. “What happened over there that’s got you so upset? Surely, Shayna didn’t—”
I laughed, a bitter sound I didn’t even recognize. “Are you kidding me? Shayna is like the nicest person on the planet. I didn’t think it was even possible to be that good.”
A tiny look of relief passed over his face. “What, then?” he demanded.
I scoffed, remembering the horrid words and trying to shove the burning sob down that wanted to split me in half.
She throws one kid away and never thinks of him again . . .
It won. A noise of pain escaped my throat, and I hissed in a breath to quell it.
“Ask your father,” I spit out, turning away.
I headed for the fridge, wanting to stick my head in the freezer, but the grip on my upper arm stopped me.
“I asked you,” he said roughly as he spun me around.
We both inhaled sharply as we landed together and found ourselves nearly nose to nose. I blinked tears free, bringing Noah’s face into perfect focus. His quickened breath felt warm on my face, and all the hard lines of his expression dissolved when he searched my eyes.