His out-of-the-ordinary tenderness put Kerry off kilter and she waved a hand. “No need to thank me. Mama Joy was good to me, and I’ll always be grateful for that.”
Damian nodded as, once again, Lucas and Noah rang the bell and now added a knock to the outside door. “Come on, open up,” Noah yelled. “You want us to wait out here all day?”
In a blink, it was as if Damian’s wall came up as his eyes hardened and he groaned.
“You better go and let your brothers in before they cause a scene, and I should get to work,” Kerry said, thankful for the interruption herself.
Damian started off toward the front but stopped and turned back Kerry’s way. “And don’t worry, Kerry, we will definitely pay you for your time this week while we settle up.”
His words—no, the way he brought up money out of the blue hit Kerry in the chest like a physical blow. She took a small step back and narrowed her eyes. “Did I say anything about money?”
He looked at her, his expression slightly shocked. “No, you didn’t, but despite our circumstances and yours, rents still must be paid and lights must stay on. Besides, correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t live on good deeds alone, now, do you?”
Damn that Damian Strong, always bringing things down to the bottom line. Of course she didn’t live on good deeds alone. And she hated the do-gooder rep she’d acquired with the Strong brothers. But the one thing she’d learned over the years from working in the shop and seeing how Mama Joy ran things was that what she gave out usually came back, and whether Kerry was paid or not, she would make it, she guessed . . . well, somehow.
Kerry gave herself a mental shake. Of course she would make it.
Screw Damian and his stuck-up dollars-and-cents hard-ass logic. Yes, Mama Joy was suddenly gone, but Kerry’s life was still on track. She was going places. Besides the totally tragic and sucky unfortunate death of her mentor and sounding board, Kerry knew she still had ample reasons to celebrate. Or at least that was what Mama Joy would be saying right now.
Kerry sure as hell didn’t feel it. But it was true there were reasons, slim as they were. She’d finally obtained her degree in children’s counseling and art therapy. She was working at the center this summer part-time but hoped for a full-time position as soon as funds opened up, which she’d been assured they would. Well, moderately assured. She and Mama Joy had happily talked about the day when she’d finally stop working in the shop for good. Though those talks for her were always bittersweet. She could admit now that though, yes, she loved working with the kids and, yes, enjoyed her work at the center, she never was in all that much of a hurry to leave the shop. It was as if she was torn between the wonderful warmth of the cocoon of Strong Knits and the reality that was the rest of the world that she knew she had to face but was never quite ready. Ridiculous, but there it was.
She internally snorted. Now here it was. The world was here, right in her face, and she suddenly had no choice but to go out and deal with it, whether ready or not. Though, under the worst of circumstances now, she could see clearly that all those extra years Mama Joy had acquiesced and given her hours that fit easily with whatever school or part-time center schedule she had was not really for business purposes but most likely for both of their comfort. Fact was, they were just used to each other. Kerry would tease Mama Joy, saying she’d never truly get rid of her, that no matter what job she got she’d pay Mama Joy to let her show up and put in a few hours a week in the shop. Little did she know that Mama Joy would beat her out the door first. That wasn’t how it was meant to be. Mama Joy was supposed to always be there. Happy and in her shop, a sanctuary for them all from the outside storms.
Finally, Kerry gave Damian a sharp look. “Like I said, did I say anything to you about money? Go and let your brothers in. We all have a lot of work to get through. There is plenty to get cleaned up and cleared out around here. No use in any of us wasting any more time than necessary.”
* * *
Screw you, Damian, Jesse thought as he angrily tugged on his jeans and then pulled his T-shirt over his head. He was still fuming after a quick shower that had done nothing to cool his mood. Of course his brother would show up at just the wrong time and assume the absolute worst about him. That was always Damian’s way. Hell, that was everyone’s way when it came to him. They always assumed the worst.
Jesse, the family fuckup. Jesse’s so lazy. Jesse has no ambition. Jesse the player. Well, that one maybe he had to own, but yeah, he knew how they each thought of him, and it wasn’t too highly. Jesse let out a sigh and slipped his feet into his well-worn Chucks. He ran his hand through his locs, untangling them as best he could, finally giving up and searching the top of his nightstand for a band to pull them back and out of his face. He didn’t need his more straitlaced brothers railing at him about his hair today.
Letting out a long breath, he then sucked in deeply, preparing to go downstairs and face his brothers for the first time without the backup of Mama Joy as a buffer. For so many years he took for granted the calming strength of having her at his back. Though in many ways the Strong brothers were their own little mini crew. A source of silent protection from the ever-looming threat of all that could harm them: the system stacked against them, judgment, their race, police, gangs—the list sometimes felt endless. But Mama Joy was his true protection within the house, or at least he had thought so. Jesse snorted. Probably all his brothers had thought the same thing. Mama Joy had that way about her.
Still, she was the one who got him. She was the only one who did. Understanding his creative quirks. She never judged or expected more from him than he was willing to give at any time. Jesse paused as he thought over what had just run through his mind. More than he was willing to give. Damn, he really was a selfish bastard.
Swallowing hard against the image of Kerry that came up and swam before his eyes, Jesse fought against his emotions. But Kerry was right in what she’d said in the kitchen—Mama Joy would be disappointed with how they were acting. How he was acting. It was as if nothing had changed and he was going about business as usual, disappointing her in death as he had all his life.
He looked over at the baseball bat, now back behind his bedroom door. What had he been thinking anyway? Running downstairs in his underwear like some fool, then standing there in front of Kerry like a broke-down Calvin Klein model? Yeah, he knew it was only to mess with Kerry and get a rise out of her. But it wasn’t fair, and she didn’t deserve it. He was clearly being childish and deflecting from feelings he didn’t want to face. The thought of her teary and warm in his arms made guilt rise even higher. No, it wasn’t fair. Bringing his pain to her. No matter how close they were or how good and perfect she felt, Jesse knew it wasn’t right.
Besides, Kerry wasn’t one of his normal hookups or even close to a potential hookup. No, she was different. She was more like family—well, as far as not being any relation could be like family. But then again, that was pretty much his whole family. Still, she didn’t deserve his teasing, not when she was there to help them. Kerry deserved better, and he knew Mama Joy would have wanted him to be better. Jesse let out a sigh and looked toward the hall stairs as he heard the sounds of what must be Lucas and Noah joining the fray. He swallowed, then stepped out into the hall and gave a glance to the closed door of Mama Joy’s room on the opposite end of the hallway. Better or not, it was time to face the music.