“React well?” Anger blazes through me like an untamed fire. “Did he tell you why he didn’t get to know me?”
Her breathing quickens. “He mentioned something about not being able to get along with your mother. That she had problems.”
“Yeah, and then he left me with her and all her problems,” I snap in outrage. How dare he talk about me to his other daughter! How dare she call me! How dare he die without seeing me again!
“I’m so sorry,” she sputters. I can hear the sound of her tears. “I never should have called you. It was so wrong of me... God...”
Click.
She hangs up, leaving me stunned. “Fuck.” This is the last thing I expected or needed. Some long-lost half-sister wanting to get to know me because her—our—father died, and it was his death wish or whatever. A father who abandoned me and never cared enough to even mention I existed until he died. Fuck him. Fuck her. Fuck, just fuck.
Heaving mad, I turn down the volume on the phone and chuck it onto the floor. “I’m not going to let this ruin my birthday,” I mutter to myself, trying to breathe, to calm down. “Let it go.”
After about five minutes and some serious deep breaths, I return to my breakfast and force my thoughts to something else that will detour me from the call. Something happy. Something that makes me smile…
Tristan and that kiss. I spent half the night after I got home staring up at the stars, mapping the night sky, begging for a sign of how badly I’d screwed up. That kissing Tristan isn’t how I’m supposed to be helping him, that the kiss was wrong. But all I could think about was how safe I’d felt and how I wished I could always feel that safe. Like now, after that call.
“God, I’m getting into such a mess,” I mumble as I finish off my toast. “He doesn’t even know you have a kid for Christ’s sake. And he would probably bail out if he knew. Plus, you’re making wishes again, Avery. Not smart at all.”
I wolf down the rest of my breakfast then take a shower. I apply a little bit of makeup and put on the one dress I own—a short, flowery one with thin straps—because it’s my birthday and an excuse to look nice once a year. I leave my hair down in waves, shutting my eyes for a moment to brush my fingers through the strands, savoring the long length. Then I put the tiara back on my head and leave the bedroom with the empty plate and tray.
When I enter the kitchen, Mason and Jax are playing a board game at the table, dice, pieces, and cards in front of them. For an instant, I consider mentioning the phone call to Jax but decide against it, not wanting to burden him with my life problems. And, honestly, I don’t really feel like talking about it yet. Besides, Jax doesn’t know who his father is, so the last thing he needs is for me to rub in his face that I do, even if mine’s dead.
Oh, my God, he’s dead.
“You look so pretty, Mama,” Mason says as he turns around in his chair.
I plaster a smile on for him. “Thanks, baby.” I kiss his cheek then put the dishes in the sink and sit down in a chair. “So, is this my big birthday present? Do we get to sit around all day and play board games?”
Jax and Mason exchange a secret look, and then they both shake their heads. “Nope, this isn’t it,” Jax says, scooting back from the table and standing up. He grabs a plaid shirt hanging on the back of the chair and slips it over his red T-shirt. “You can’t have your present until after the day is over.”
I fake a frown. “So what are we doing all day?”
Mason claps his hands as he springs from his chair and bounces up and down. “It’s cake time!”
“Yes! A cake!” I jump from my chair, genuinely excited over frosting. If anything can cheer me up, it’s sugar. “Where are we going to get it?"
“Philman’s.” Jax grabs the car keys from the hook beside the back door. “They have the best cakes. And we can buy stuff for your dinner there too.”
“Can I have anything I want?” I ask as I pick up my purse from the counter and start for the front door.
“Of course,” Jax says, but he pauses in the entryway, allowing Mason to run out the door. Then he turns to me. “Is everything okay?”
I nod as I slide the handle of my purse over my shoulder. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because I heard you crying last night,” he says. “And it seems like you’re upset today. More than usual.”
“I’m fine,” I lie. “Just a little tired.”
“Are you worried about bills? Because I can help with that. Avery, you need to start letting me help with stuff more.”
“No, it’s not bills,” I say, being painfully reminded of the credit card debt. “It’s just… stuff. And I don’t want you helping with money. That’s my problem.”
“Avery—”
“Conner showed up at work last night.” I figure that’s the best route to go, staying away from the dad situation.
“What! Are you serious?”
“Shh…” I point outside to where Mason is twirling around on the front lawn. “Don’t let him hear you.”
“Sorry.” He lowers his voice. “But he seriously showed up at your work? God, he’s so fucking stupid.”
I nod and then, even though I don’t want to, I give him a brief rundown of what happened. After I’m finished, he’s silent for what feels like an eternity before he speaks again.
“We really need to get him in jail again,” he says with a frazzled sigh and I instantly regret telling him. “Things were so much more peaceful then.”
“I’m trying to make that happen. I call the police every time he shows up, but he always bails out.” I fold my arms around my stomach as the scars begin to smolder. “And besides, you know as well as I do that, unless he does something really bad, they won’t do anything.”
“I’m not going to let him hurt you just so he can go back to jail.” Jax steps out the door and into the warm sunshine. “And you know what? I like this Tristan guy.”
“You don’t even know him,” I point out as I follow him out and close the door behind me, “so how can you like him?”
Jax finds the house key on the chain and locks the door. “Because he made you feel safe, Avery. And I’m pretty sure no one has ever done that for you, even me.”
“Conner did once,” I mutter as Mason races up to the Jeep and throws the door open. “But that’s because I was stupid.”