Jessica's first day as a waitress was a disaster. She knocked over a few drinks, screwed up some orders and swapped a couple table orders. There had been more than a few occasions she had considered quitting, but the path to her independence made her keep at it. She was so nervous that she couldn't remember all the things Macy, the waitress who had given her a run through on everything that she needed to know, had told her.
Luckily she hadn't been fired, though she had spent an hour in the parking lot afterward crying. But the next day she tried again. Each day she got better and messed up a little less.
The first day she got through it without a major screw up, Macy had given her a thumbs-up. Rick had nodded his approval and Jessica's confidence grew.
She had been working at the bar for two weeks and she was starting to get to know some of the usual customers. She was also getting to know the staff she worked with. Although Brett, the barman, was a little too handsy for her liking, she didn't want to rock the boat—this job meant too much for her.
If she kept at it she would be able to look at getting a small place of her own. That was her main goal.
She was given off a Saturday morning, which she used to visit her mom. Other than her weekly phone calls assuring her mom that she was fine, she hadn't told her mother about Dylan or the fact that she had moved out of Myles' place. She had been trying to protect her parents while she got her life back together, but she knew she couldn't keep the truth from them forever.
It was time to tell them.
"It feels like it's been ages," her mom said when she answered the door.
Jessica rolled her eyes. "It hasn't, Mom." She pressed a kiss to her mom's cheek as she entered the house. "Where's Dad?"
"Busy preparing the meat in the kitchen," her mom replied.
The air was filled with the smell of her mother's roast beef.
"How much did you cook?" she asked her mom as she followed her to the kitchen.
To say her mom had gone overboard was an understatement. There were roast potatoes, vegetables, apple pie...
"Dad," she said when she spotted her father cutting the meat.
"Hi, girlie," he said as she hugged him. He felt so frail it was difficult not to feel alarmed. He looked like he had lost weight but she didn't want to mention it. He looked so happy to see her and that made her smile. She would ask her mother later when they were alone.
Her father had been much older than her mother when they had first met. He was in his early sixties already and her mom was only in her fifties.
When it was love, age didn't matter.
"So how are things?" her mom asked when they finally sat down at the dining room table to eat.
"I've had a lot going on," she began.
Her mom frowned. "Is everything okay?"
She put her utensils down and gave her mother her full attention. "I've had a bit of a rough time."
"Honey," her mother murmured. "Why didn't you say anything?"
She looked to her dad. "I didn't want you guys to worry."
"We love you, sweetheart, and you should have let us know there was something going on," her father lectured lovingly.
"I'm better now." She relayed what had happened with Dylan and the guilt she had carried. Her mother reached over to squeeze her hand.
"Why did you never say anything?"
"I thought people would judge me," she murmured.
"I'm sorry, baby." Her mother leaned closer to put an arm around her and hug her.
She told them how Karsyn and Charlie had stepped up to help her and how she had moved back in with Charlie so she could concentrate on getting the help she needed.
"Charlie was always a good man," her father murmured.
She nodded. He was—better than she had ever deserved.
She never mentioned that something had developed between her and Myles. There was no point; it was over.
"Karsyn?" her mother questioned with disapproval.
They remembered how he had treated her after the death of his brother, and that still didn't sit well with them.
"He's just a friend, a good friend. Nothing else." There was only room in heart for one, even if he didn't feel the same.
"Well that's good to hear. He owes you. He treated you terribly," her mother muttered.
She began to tell them about her job at the bar and she was met with the same concerns from them that Karsyn and Charlie had raised.
"It's an upmarket bar, and the pay is good. I'll be able to get a place of my own soon." She was feeling pretty positive about the future, even though she still carried the guilt of Dylan's death and the heartache from the breakup with Myles.
"If you needed money, all you had to do was ask."
"No, Mom," she replied, shaking her head. "I can do this on my own."
And for the first time, she really believed it.
Her mother made her eat way more than she should have, and afterward as she helped to clean up, she felt the strain of her waistband on her stomach.
Her father was seated in the living room, so it was a perfect time to broach her concerns.
"Dad's lost weight?" she asked while she washed the dishes.
"Just a few pounds."
Jessica nodded as she listened. "How's his heart? What did the specialist say?"
Her father went for a visit to his specialist at least one a month.
"The specialist said it's looking good. He's on new medication for his blood pressure so they will have to monitor it."
No matter what was going on, it was always in the back of her mind. She knew people died every day and there was no guarantee for a tomorrow. It made her nervous when her father's congenital heart condition had been discovered. His high blood pressure had also compounded the issue but since he had started taking the medication, her mother and specialist seemed to be happy with his progress.
She had to rush back home to get dressed for her evening shift at work. Saturdays, the bar was packed, which was good for tips. It also helped that the uniform she wore was tight and showed off a fair amount of cleavage. She had never felt confident in her body, but she needed the money, so she hadn't argued.
Charlie's response to her short skirt and tight top had been predictable.
"I don't think that skirt can get any shorter," he had said dryly.
"Stop, Charlie. It increases my tips and I have to wear it. I don't have a choice."
He had still mumbled something about feminism, which she had ignored. Thankfully Karsyn hadn't seen her in the uniform, because she bet he would be even less happy about it.
She had one goal in mind, and that was gaining her independence. Besides, wearing something that men found her attractive in served another purpose: it made her feel sexier than she had in ages, and it was doing her confidence wonders, but she wasn't going to admit that to anyone.
At some point, when she was ready, she wanted to meet someone. Maybe go on a couple of dates, and "play the field"—the term Hannah had used. There were guys Hannah was already wanting to set her up with, but she wasn't ready yet.
Her heart had been owned from her earliest teen memory by one Shaw brother, and then given to another Shaw brother. Maybe it was time to allow someone else to have a try, even if it was still difficult to think that someone else could make her feel the way Myles did.
Karsyn hadn't said anything more about wanting her back since she had moved in with Charlie. Maybe he had realized that it wasn't something that was likely to happen.
She missed Myles. At night when she was alone, she would allow herself to think about him and the nights they had shared together. It had left her heart feeling sore and with a wanting ache she couldn't get rid of.
In her dreams she allowed herself to feel his touch and remember how it felt to have his arms around her, his lips on hers. But once she opened her eyes and the reality set in, she shrugged it off and pressed forward, even if it felt like she had left her heart in the past. She had to find a way to move on, even if it at times felt impossible.