If this is love, p.28
If This Is Love, page 28
Her expression morphs into confusion. Her hand touches her neck, gaze averting to the side. When our eyes meet again, she shakes her head.
“What was my crime? Conception? Birth? Being the innocent four-year-old child sold for a million dollars?”
After a minute or so, Jolene’s attention returns to the computer screen, and her fingers resume their furious typing.
“Jolene, I’m sorry for every awful thing I’ve said to you, thought about you, or done to you.” I don’t need her to apologize or say another word. She is Benjamin’s mother. She will be in his life. He deserves to be surrounded by love. He didn’t make the choice to come into this world. He’s worthy of a life infinitely more significant than the impersonal conception with which his life began.
When I reach the door, Jolene clears her throat. “She adored you,” she whispers.
I slowly turn.
Jolene’s eyes gloss over with unshed tears. “Ruthie loved you so much. You were this angelic little fairy in pretty dresses she made for you.” Jolene quickly wipes her eyes and gazes out the window. “She laughed with you and ran her fingers lovingly through your long hair. Her eyes were bright and filled with love whenever she looked at or spoke of you.
“And I watched you look at her and Fletcher, you and two parents who were so in love—” Her gaze cuts to mine, and she no longer tries to keep up with the tears. “You were so smart too. Reading all those books, reciting poems, spewing random facts about the plants and bees because you retained everything so easily. And I was the daughter who wasn’t quite as smart. Not quite as pretty. My parents never showed each other affection. My mom never looked at me the way Ruthie looked at you.”
Slowly, she shakes her head and sniffles. “It’s not that anyone compared me to you. My parents knew there was no comparison, so they didn’t want to embarrass themselves by trying. But I made the comparison—all the time. And the more I compared myself to you, the more I hated you. So imagine how good it felt for me to have something you wanted?”
Jolene laughs, blotting her cheeks and eyes with a tissue. “And it was dumb luck. I didn’t ask for the marriage. I thought no one would ever marry me, so why not take the offer presented to me? And when I found out you had feelings for Milo, it felt…” her gaze drops to her desk “…good. For once, I had something you wanted. For once, you didn’t have everything.”
When she looks at me again, I see a Jolene I have never seen before. She seems a little broken—a little human. “But you really did,” she whispers. “You’ve always had him.”
I’ve told myself many times that there’s no way I could ever spare a single tear for Jolene. Here I am, wiping my face. “I forgive you.” I open the door.
“I didn’t ask for—”
Turning, I rest my chin on my shoulder. “I know. It’s not for you. It’s for your son.”
EPILOGUE
“It’s perfect.” I stare at the sign.
Annie’s Apiary
Milo hooks his hat onto the saddle horn and lifts Benjamin onto his shoulders.
For now, we live in a barn. We have bees and chickens, horses, and a few cows. I’ve requested an alpaca, but Milo hasn’t jumped on board yet. We have acres of flowers and vegetables. Greenhouses. And a pond where we spend hot summer afternoons skinny dipping and making love in the tall grass.
Milo has shared custody of Benjamin. His relationship with Jolene has improved since Pauline started experiencing dementia. She realizes that we’re the only family she’ll have once her mom is gone. Unless she finds a man brave enough to marry her, but it’s not looking promising.
“When will Rosa and Baylor arrive?” Milo asks.
“In about an hour.” I open a jar of honey and swipe my finger along the top. “Why?” I smear it on Milo’s cheek.
Ben giggles, and Milo narrows his eyes at me.
“We have time for a swim.” He turns his head and nibbles Benjamin’s leg. “Are you laughing at me?”
Ben giggles more.
“Swimsuits?” I suck the honey from my finger.
Milo grins. “Nah. He’s two. I don’t think he’ll tell anyone.”
I laugh. “Until Jolene takes him to a pool, and he thinks suits are optional.”
Milo struts toward the pond. “Indie girl, I think we gave up on worrying about things like other people’s opinions a long time ago.”
I trek through the grass in my boots and sundress, discarding both before I reach the dock.
Milo’s grin swells, setting Ben down and removing his clothes.
I pad my naked self to the end of the dock. “Milo, how long can I have you?”
“As long as you need,” he says.
“Forever?” I glance at him over my shoulder.
“One day at a time.”
“Milo.” I narrow my eyes at him.
He shrugs off his shirt and unbuckles his belt, his grin larger than life. “Forever,” he mouths.
I dive into the cool water. And I know without question … this is love.
THE END
If you loved Milo and Indie’s story, you will love Fisher and Reese’s romance in, The Naked Fisherman. Read on for a preview of chapter one.
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PREVIEW - THE NAKED FISHERMAN
CHAPTER ONE
The day I met the naked fisherman, I was a wholesome eighteen-year-old girl, fresh out of high school with lots of opinions and zero big ideas. The perfect target. I had only heard about men like him through sermons and Bible studies on temptation.
However, as I spent the morning packing, I was unaware of his existence. I should have embraced the final few hours of my innocence instead of fretting over the thought of seeing my mom for the first time in over five years. It made me want to throw up my scrambled eggs and at least one piece of buttered toast. Six months earlier, she’d been released from a women’s correctional facility in Nebraska. Apparently, she had a few too many marijuana plants growing in the storage room of her hair salon. My dad said he knew nothing about it, and the judge believed him.
My grandma snatched everything I tossed into my suitcase and refolded it. “You’re an adult now, Therese. You don’t have to live with her … or us. You don’t have to live with anyone. Are you sure you don’t want to get an apartment with some friends? There are mission trips that can take you all around the world.”
Three years earlier, my dad’s heart had stopped working. A congenital defect he didn’t know he had. No high blood pressure. No high cholesterol. Not a single sign before he just … keeled over while sitting at his drawing board. We’d had pasta that night. I still couldn’t look at pasta without tearing up.
He was a brilliant architect. My grandparents (his parents) got custody of me since my mom was in prison and her parents lived in a dinky but expensive apartment in Boston. They were Catholic liberals with a special detest for my father’s parents—conservatives who took advantage of my mom’s incarceration and my dad’s death by enrolling me in a private Christian academy in Houston, Texas.
“She’s my mom. I haven’t seen her in five years. And it’s only temporary until I decide what I want to do with my life.” I gave my grandma a reassuring smile, but her frown told me she wasn’t feeling the least bit reassured.
“You didn’t invite her to your graduation. Why are you so curious now?”
Coughing before laughing, I shook my head. “Pa talked me out of inviting her, just like Dad would have done. And she’s my mom, not a zoo animal I’m ‘curious’ about. If she’s not what I remember, if she feels like a complete stranger and I feel no connection to her, then I’ll come home.”
“Therese, I worry that by not going to college right away, you’ll never go. And your father would have wanted you to get a degree.”
I tossed a pair of sandals and flip-flops on top of the clothes she’d just refolded. “Statistically, people who take a gap year do better when they do go to college.” A true statistic I played on repeat.
Lack of direction wasn’t fun. At my graduation party, everyone asked where I was going to school … what I planned on doing. I cringed and threw out my brilliant Gap Year Plan. It felt like code for “smart kid who happened to be an underachiever with little to no direction.” Nobody actually said that to me, but I saw it on their faces. Then they listed all of the things I could do, as if I simply needed a good idea.
Grandma pressed her hands to my cheeks for a second before stroking my hair down my shoulders. My straight, dark brown hair and blue eyes were all my mom, but my grandma always said I looked like my dad. He had blond hair and hazel eyes. The only things I got from him were my full lips and obsession with crossword puzzles.
“I also worry your mom won’t be the best influence.” Grandma frowned as she continued to stroke my hair. There it was—her real fear.
“If she’s on drugs or if she has taken up smoking three packs a day, I’ll come home. Besides, I’ve already found a church to attend, and I’m sure I’ll find good Christian friends who will keep me from falling under my mom’s spell.” I winked at Grandma. I was only half serious. There wasn’t a rule book for reuniting with your mother after years of separation due to incarceration. Would she expect me to call her “Mom?” Would it feel natural to call her that? It felt natural at thirteen, the day I last saw her and cried fat tears while they removed her from the courtroom in handcuffs. Her tears matched mine as she mouthed, “I love you.”
Dad hugged me and promised I’d see her soon.
Soon …
That didn’t happen.
“You can come back. Anytime. You know this, right?”
I nodded while zipping my suitcase. “Yep. That’s why I’ve told you a million times that I’ll come home if it doesn’t work out. Besides, half of my stuff is still here. Of course I’m coming back. I just want to see what she’s like now and see if I like Colorado.”
Grandma’s eyes glossed over with emotion. “Therese, I’m going to miss you so much. It’s like I’m losing your dad all over again.”
“God will watch over me.”
“I know, honey.” She kissed my forehead. “Let’s have Pa load up your suitcase and drive you to the airport so you don’t feel rushed getting to the gate. I still can’t believe we’re letting you fly by yourself.”
I laughed a little. “I’m an adult now. I’ve got this.” I wasn’t sure eighteen felt like adulthood, but I put on a brave face because my friends were going on summer trips and preparing to head off to college. They were leaving the nest. I was moving to a different nest. The least I could do was fly by myself and pretend that I was a real adult for a few hours.
Continue Reading
ALSO BY JEWEL E. ANN
Standalone Novels
Idle Bloom
Undeniably You
Naked Love
Only Trick
Perfectly Adequate
Look The Part
When Life Happened
A Place Without You
Jersey Six
Scarlet Stone
Not What I Expected
For Lucy
What Lovers Do
Before Us
If This Is Love
The Fisherman Series
The Naked Fisherman
The Lost Fisherman
Jack & Jill Series
End of Day
Middle of Knight
Dawn of Forever
One (standalone)
Out of Love (standalone)
Holding You Series
Holding You
Releasing Me
Transcend Series
Transcend
Epoch
Fortuity (standalone)
The Life Series
The Life That Mattered
The Life You Stole
Pieces of a Life
Memories of a Life
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jewel is a free-spirited romance junkie with a quirky sense of humor.
With 10 years of flossing lectures under her belt, she took early retirement from her dental hygiene career to stay home with her three awesome boys and manage the family business.
After her best friend of nearly 30 years suggested a few books from the Contemporary Romance genre, Jewel was hooked. Devouring two and three books a week but still craving more, she decided to practice sustainable reading, AKA writing.
When she’s not donning her cape and saving the planet one tree at a time, she enjoys yoga with friends, good food with family, rock climbing with her kids, watching How I Met Your Mother reruns, and of course…heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, panty-scorching novels.
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