Page 43 of Let It Breathe (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #1)

R eese couldn’t remember ever feeling worse in her life. Not even the time she’d thrown up in her underwear on the last day of eighth grade, or the time she’d failed her Advanced Rootstalks & Cultivars course in college and realized she might never make it as a vineyard manager.

You felt worse when you walked out on Clay in the middle of the night fifteen years ago , she reminded herself.

You felt worse when you left him in jail to rot after you got punched at Finnigan’s that night.

That didn’t help.

She wasn’t sure how she made it back to her house after the meeting with the fire marshal, but she knew the only thing she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and cry. She’d just pulled on her pajamas and yanked the elastic off her ponytail to let her hair down when she heard a knock at the door.

Stifling a groan, she peeled back the bedroom curtain to peer out, thinking seriously about not answering it.

When she saw her mother standing on the front porch holding a tray of brownies, a box of Popsicles, and a bottle of Pinot, she reconsidered. Padding into the living room, she dragged the door open and offered a weak smile.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hey there, sweetie,” June said, her voice tinged with worry. “I wanted to see if you’re doing okay.”

“You brought me comfort food,” Reese said, feeling guilty for not confiding in her mother sooner.

But June just walked inside and thrust the brownies in front of her. “Here, have one. Or would you rather have a Popsicle?”

“Popsicle, please.”

“Here you go.”

Her mom handed her the whole box, and Reese opened it slowly.

She took a Popsicle and peeled back the wrapper, biting into the sweet iciness.

June set down the wine and brownies on the coffee table and trooped to the kitchen to throw the rest of the Popsicles in the freezer.

She returned to the living room and settled on the sofa beside Reese, giving her daughter’s arm a squeeze.

“So the meeting with the fire marshal was interesting,” June said. “How are you holding up, sweetie?”

Reese raised one shoulder, lacking the energy to perform a full shrug. “I feel like an idiot.”

“Oh, Reesey.” Her mom leaned over and wrapped her in a hug that smelled like brownies and grapes and Oil of Olay and everything good in the world.

Reese started to cry.

Then she choked on a chunk of Popsicle.

“Hold still, honey,” June said as Reese wheezed and coughed and spit purple slush on the floor.

June whacked her on the back a few times.

“I can’t even cry right,” Reese choked, dodging her mother’s blows as she regained her breath. “I screw everything up.”

“That’s not true?—”

“My marriage, the construction project, my connection with Larissa, any potential for a relationship with?—”

Her voice broke. She couldn’t even say Clay’s name.

“Oh, honey, no, you didn’t.” June stopped hitting her and tried hugging again.

“This vineyard has been running strong for more than forty years. So what if we lose a little ground? We’re still hanging in there.

And Larissa will get over it. I saw her not thirty minutes ago and she was getting ready for a date.

She’s fine, honey. You two will kiss and make up. ”

Reese sniffled and shook her head, noticing her mom had deliberately dodged the issue of romance. She wasn’t surprised. She’d already proven she was beyond hope.

As if reading her mind, June put a finger under Reese’s chin and nudged it up. “Hey, look at me. You’ll find love, too.”

Reese just shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Of course you will. Your father and I have been reading this wonderful book on relationships by Dr. Vivienne Brandt. Have you heard of it?”

“Maybe.” Her parents were always reading books aimed at making their marriage the best it could be. “I’m sure it’s great.”

“It’s wonderful,” her mom insisted. “Dr. Viv—that’s what we call her, Dr. Viv —she says nothing in the world compares to the power of finding your soulmate. That two people who love, honor, and cherish each other are virtually unstoppable. She says?—”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for it, Mom.”

Her mother blinked. “For reading Dr. Viv?”

“For relationships.”

“Nonsense!” Her mother’s eyes gleamed with an intensity that made Reese sit back on the sofa. “You will find love. And when you do, it’ll be special and wonderful and just like your father and I have enjoyed. Don’t you want that, honey? What Daddy and I have?”

Reese felt a sharp pain beneath her ribs. “Of course.”

“It’s out there for you, too, honey. Just wait and see. When it’s right?—”

“I know.” Her voice came out harsher than she intended, so Reese forced a smile to make up for it. “Thanks, Mom. I feel better already.”

June nodded and grabbed a brownie. “Everything will be fine, sweetie. You’ll see.”

“Okay, Mom. Thanks.” She was trying to think of a tactful way to tell her mother she wanted time alone when her father came limping up the walkway.

They both stood to greet him as her dad came through the door muttering.

“Damn Leon.” Still wincing, he put an arm around Reese’s mom. “Ambushed me that time.”

June touched his leg. “Oh, honey—are you okay?”

“Fine, fine,” he said. “Just wanted to come find you and see how Reese is doing. You holding up all right, baby?”

Reese shrugged. “Fine, I guess. I think I’ll just take a bath and reread a favorite book or something.”

“That sounds comforting,” her dad said. “Give yourself a nice, quiet night at home to let things settle. Your mom and I will be at the house if you need to talk or anything.”

“We’re here for you, sweetie,” June said.

Jed planted a kiss on his wife’s forehead before turning back to Reese. “You sure you’re okay? It’s kind of a big deal, the whole arson thing and all.”

“Right,” Reese said. She bit her lip. “Look, about Clay?—”

“Always liked that boy,” Jed said, nodding once. “Good to see he’s getting his life back together.”

Reese sighed. “Being investigated for arson will really help with that.”

Her father reached out and patted her arm. “I’m sure it’ll all work out. He’s a tough kid, and I’m sure he’s got a good support system at St. Peter’s. They take care of their own over there.”

Reese frowned at her father. “The Catholic church? What are you talking about? Clay isn’t religious. At least not that I know.”

Hell, did she know? Maybe he really was a stranger to her.

Her father shrugged. “Guess I figured from his tattoo he must be Catholic. Res firma mitescere nescit. Latin. I think I remember it from Mass when I was a kid, or maybe I’ve just seen it around the cycling scene forever.”

“What does it mean?”

“Depends on how you translate it, I guess. ‘A firm resolve doesn’t weaken,’ might be one way to read it,” Jed said. “‘A rigid thing doesn’t soften’ or ‘When you’ve got it up, keep it up,’ is another, though I’m not sure that makes much sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Reese said, realization dawning. “For crying out loud, he has a dirty joke tattooed on his arm. No wonder he wouldn’t tell me what it said.”

“Oh, honey,” June said. “I don’t think he meant it that way.”

Reese snorted. “I think that’s exactly how he meant it. Clay was always all about the dirty double entendre. Now he doesn’t even say fuck when he hits his finger with a hammer. No wonder he’s embarrassed about the tattoo.”

She shook her head, not sure whether to be annoyed at Clay for always dodging the subject of the tattoo, or for putting her in a position to find out from her father what it said.

Like it mattered.

“Sweetie, you sure you don’t want to come down to the house for dinner?” June asked. “Oysters and asparagus?”

Reese shook her head, not at all interested in sharing an aphrodisiac dinner with her parents. “I appreciate that, Mom, but I really need to be by myself for a bit.”

“Okay, honey. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks for the Popsicles and brownies and wine. Love you.”

“Love you, too, sweetie.”

Both parents kissed her on the cheek before heading out the door hand in hand. Reese watched them walk into the crisp spring evening, their heads bent close together as they made their way toward the house.

Then she closed the door, not feeling much better but not feeling a whole lot worse.

She picked up the wine in one hand and the brownies in the other and stashed both in the kitchen. Returning to the living room, she stared at her bookshelf and tried to decide between rereading her favorite Kristan Higgins romance or her favorite Jennifer Crusie.

She was still staring at the book spines when Axl burst through the front door. His frizzed white hair made him look like a big Q-tip. He yanked off a tattered leather biker bag, knocking his aviator glasses crooked.

“There you are,” Axl barked. “Your mom said you were up here feeling sorry for yourself. You and me, we gotta talk, girlie.”

Reese sighed. “Axl, I don’t really feel like?—”

“Shut up.”

Reese shut up.

“I got a couple things to discuss,” her grandfather continued. “Move over, make room for me on the sofa. I gotta show you something.”

“Axl, if you’re going to show me your nipple piercing again, I’m not interested.” Reese squeezed her eyes shut. “If it’s infected, call your doctor.”

“That’s not it. Gimme one of those brownies. They got anything good in ’em?”

She opened her eyes. “If you mean eggs, sugar, vanilla, flour, and cocoa powder, yes.”

“Go get me a glass of wine, then.”

Reese sighed, knowing it was futile to argue. She got up to open the Pinot her mother had just brought. Retrieving a good Riedel wineglass from the cupboard, she poured a slosh of Pinot into it. She returned to the living room, setting it down in front of her grandfather.

Axl grinned and took a sip, then belched.

“Nice,” he said. “It’s the 2022 Resonance Vineyard Pinot Noir from Sineann, right?”

Reese raised an eyebrow as she dropped back onto the couch. “Good call.”

“Yeah, I’m full of surprises,” he muttered. “Like this one.”