Hope you like it.
- Veritable Old Lady Crow
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FIVE YEARS EARLIER...
Jackson Teller's twelfth birthday party was in full swing.
There were kids everywhere—at least three for every man in a leather kutte, two for every Old Lady or MC hopeful hanging around with a beer, a shot glass, a cigarette or some combination of the three in their hands.
And somewhere in between all the laughter and games, all the joking, the rough housing and horseplay Opie Winston had completely forgotten about the nasty fight he'd overheard his parents having earlier that day.
Drenching Stephanie Eglee and all the other girls at the party with water proved to be the perfect distraction—it took his mind off the weird look in his mother's eyes when he asked her why she was packing her things and she said she was going to visit grandma for a few days.
Launching a tactical assault—chasing Stephanie and Sarah Hale down with water guns with his best friend, the birthday boy by his side was awesome.
It made it hard to focus on how relieved, how completely unbothered his father looked when he watched his wife walk out the door, suitcase rolling behind her.
"Jax! Stop it—STOPPPP!" Stacy Wislon screeched, needlessly holding her hands over her already soaking wet hair. The eleven year old girl glared at the handsome blue-eyed boy grinning over at her as he admired his handiwork.
"Relax," Tara said, rolling her eyes as Stacy and the other girls (who were fortunate enough to avoid most of the downpour) ran off.
Jax and Opie's eyes widened at the sound of her voice behind them. But it was too late for either of them to do anything.
Opie turned just in time to see his best friend falling sideways into the nearby picnic table as the green-eyed brunette that pushed him, snatched the water gun from his hand, turning it on Opie before he could react. Water drenched his face as she pumped at the plastic trigger.
"Give me back my gun!" Jax shouted, wrapping his arms around her from behind, struggling with her as Tara giggled, twisting and turning—refusing to let go of the stolen toy no matter how hard he fought her.
"Don't worry, bro," Opie said. He held the water gun in his hand up to Tara's face, laughing at her wide-eyed expression. "I got this."
Clearly Tara hadn't noticed that Jax wasn't the only armed boy in the Club Reaper parking lot.
But then Opie and Jax also underestimated the fury of little women—and the Hell that would follow after ruining their hair.
Stacy, Stephanie and Sarah charged towards them.
Grabbing two at a time from the large pail in between them, the vengeful girls launched the water balloons in their hands at the two young biker Princes, giving Tara the opportunity to duck out of Jax's grasp, knocking Opie's gun out of his hand as soon as he turned his head to see who was attacking them.
"Tommy," Jax hissed, narrowing his eyes at the little boy hidden behind the height of the large bucket he was balancing against his tiny frame as the girls around him pulled balloons from inside of it. "You're supposed to be on the guys team!"
"Sowwy," Thomas Teller said, dropping the bucket at his feet, eyeing his old brother sheepishly.
"Don't listen to him, Thomas," Tara encouraged, smiling at the soaking wet boys standing in front of them. "Jax is just mad because he wishes he could be a ladies man like you."
"She's right," Stephenie agreed, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek.
"Wow," Thomas breathed, his cherubic face taking on a light-pink tint. The blush in his cheeks spread further when Tara squatted down, pressing her lips to his other cheek. "Wowww."
"I am a ladies man," Jax argued, sticking out his chest.
"That must be why you look someone threw you in a river," Stacy teased. The girls laughed when Opie and Jax snatched both the water guns from Tara quickly, pulling the triggers only to discover that they were both completely empty.
Well at least they're out of balloons, too, Opie thought.
"Can we play red light, green light?" Thomas asked, blue eyes flitting around, touching on all of the older kids—his big brother and his friends standing around him.
"Don't you want to go keep Mom Company for a little while?" Jax asked, looking over at Opie as he whispered, "I want to play booty tag."
Opie snickered. "Of course you do."
"What's so funny?" Tara wondered, narrowing her eyes as she looked back and forth between the two of them.
"I don't know," Lowell Junior commented, smiling as the girls turned to notice him for the first time. "But whatever they have planned I think I'll like their game better."
"You will," Jax promised, wriggling his eyebrows.
"Please, please, please?" Thomas begged.
Jax rolled his eyes. "Fine," he agreed, shaking his head. "But we're only playing one round and then you go show mom the design you made for your bike."
"I drew one for your bike, too," Thomas exclaimed, a proud smile widening across his face. "It's—"
"It's awesome," Jax said, ruffling the little boys head before yelling. "I'M IT!"
"Nuh-uh," Tara disagreed, the girls beside her, nodding their heads in agreement. "You always cheat."
"Whose gonna be it then?" Jax questioned. "You?"
"I'll do it," Lowell Junior mumbled. It was barely heard over the murmur of multiple others—guys and girls volunteering as the crowd of kids increased.
Tara shook her head. "I want to be it."
"Yeahhhh!" Thomas shrieked.
"No way," Jax argued. "It's my birthday—"
"True," Sarah commented, nodding in agreement.
Tara shrugged her shoulders, her green eyes rolling. "So friggin what?"
"How about this," Jax said, a teasing smile on his face. "I'll race you."
"Race me?"
Jax nodded. "The first one to the gate gets to be it. On three…Ope you count."
"One…..two…."—before Opie could say three Jax took off.
Tara grabbed the back of his T-shirt.
"See what I mean?" Tara tugged him backwards, running past him as she yelled over her shoulder. "You always cheat!"
Jax charged forward. Grabbing on to her elbow, he pulled her back. Running in front of her, Tara stepped on the untied lace of his sneaker making him stop short, colliding with her chest—sending them both tumbling to the ground.
Immediately the crowd of kids—Opie at the front—ran towards them, laughing and pointing as Tara wrestled with Jax on the ground.
Opie laughed as the angry brunette pulled his best friends arms behind his back while Jax laughed, igniting her tantrum even more.
"You made me skin my knee," Tara hissed, sitting on his back.
"TARA!" Thomas screamed. The alarm in his voice had every kid looking down to where he stood in between the crowd—a look of horror on his face as he stared at Tara's leg. "You're bleed—YOU GOT A BLEED! TARA'S GOT A BLEED! SHE'S GOT A—"
Tara immediately rose up off of Jax, the blue-eyed boy following behind her as she walked towards a panic-stricken Thomas, placing her hands on his shoulders.
"I'm okay," Tara told him, dropping down until she was eye-level with him. "It's just a scrape. I'm gonna be fine."
"I swear he can watch any one of us tumble down a flight of stairs and he'll keep watching his cartoons," Jax joked, shaking his head.
Opie nodded as he added, "But let him see even a tiny drop of blood—"
"—and he's screaming bloody murder," Tara finished, giggling as she ruffled his hair. "I'm okay, Tommy. Promise."
"Who's got a bleed?" said a gruff voice.
Opie turned around the same time as everyone else to see his father behind them, smiling at the young, dirty-blonde haired SAMCRO Prospect standing next to him.
"I hope you boys aren't playing too rough with the ladies," Herman Kozik teased, winking at Tara.
Opie chuckled under his breath when Jax scowled at the way Tara's cheeks turned red at the gesture. He didn't know what Jax was more jealous of.
The fact that he wasn't as old as Kozik so he couldn't prospect for his father's club.
Or the fact the young prospect had made the girl he refused to admit he had a crush on blush just by winking at her—despite the fact that Tara rolled her eyes at Jax whenever he did it to her.
Opie used to wonder why Jax wouldn't just admit that he liked Tara and ask her to be his girlfriend.
But then he found out just how hard Tara could hit.
He's probably scared she'll punch him.
"It's just a little scratch," Tara explained, obviously downplaying the stinging in her knee for Thomas' benefit. "All I need is a band aid...maybe some peroxide."
"Scared of alcohol?" Jax teased, sliding out of the way of Tara's elbow as she aimed it towards his side.
"There's a first aid kit behind the bar," Piney commented, clapping his son on the shoulder as he brushed past him. "Harry'll get it for you."
"Uhh….Piney."
Piney turned back to narrow his eyes at the young prospect next to him. "You say something to me, grunt?"
"Gemma's glaring a hole in the side of your face," Kozik commented, shrugging. "I'm thinking you should probably see what's up before she….welll….you know how she gets."
Piney snorted. "Yeah. I do know."
Changing directions Piney headed back towards the clubhouse instead of his bike, yelling over his shoulder. "Come get the Kit for Tara! Now."
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Kneeling down, Opie ran his hands along the bottom shelves of the bar coming up empty. The first aid kit obviously wasn't where his father said it was.
"Hey, Prosp—umm…"
Kozik looked up, chuckling at the conflicted expression on Opie's face.
"It's Kozik to you," Kozik said, pointing at him. "Kozy if you're looking to get knocked upside the head. Don't forget I'll be a member by the time you're old enough to prospect, kid."
Opie smirked. "You know where the first aid kit is?"
"Try looking underneath the bathroom sink in one of the dorms, sweetie," Luanne Delaney suggested, giggling as her husband Otta picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder as he carried her down the hallway leading to the dorms in question.
"Just not the first one on the left!" Otto Delaney advised.
"This is a kids party!" John Teller shouted after them, shaking his head as he laughed right along with his MC brothers.
"That's why someone invented locks for doors," Tig Trager commented, sipping his beer.
Bobby Munson nodded towards the table of women next to the stereo blaring inside the Clubhouse lounge. "Turn that music up. Can't have them scarring the children."
"Too late," Opie mumbled, laughing at the loud thumping and moaning reverberating through the walls of the hallway seconds later as he passed the first door on the left. He was reaching to push the second door the rest of the way open when two familiar voices whispering harshly inside of the room gave him pause.
"It's none of your goddamn business," Piney barked. Opie pushed at the door just enough to make out his father, shoving a finger in Gemma Teller's face. "The only thing you need to concern yourself with is keeping your own family together. Maybe if you focused on your husband instead of Mary's my best friend wouldn't be leaving for Belfast every time Club business gives him an excuse!"
"Mary is my family," Gemma growled. "And she's tired of putting up with your bullshit. You don't think it was bad enough, her cleaning up your vomit, sticking around while you got drunk every night, knocking back shot after shot—"
"Oh right," Piney spat. "I'm an alcoholic. I guess that's the excuse she's using for bailing on her kid."
"She doesn't need an excuse for anything!" Gemma cried. "And she's not bailing on her kid. You keep testing her patience she's gonna pack her shit and take Opie with her."
"My son's not going anywhere," Piney declared. "And I've been telling her for months she was free to go and you know what? She finally made good on her threat. She left this morning."
"What?" Gemma's eyes widened. "What the fuck do you mean she left? You just let her walk out?"
"It's like you said," Piney replied, shrugging. "She's tired of me. But it's not about me getting drunk every night. It's about the club, Gemma. She's tired of the life. She been wanting out a long time."
Gemma shook her head so hard Opie's own neck started to cramp. "Don't put this shit on the life you ungrateful asshole," the matriarch growled. "This is about her being sick and tired of mopping up your tears. She got tired of listening to you cry yourself to sleep at night over that uppity bitch. The only reason she stayed this long was because I've been telling her to hang in there. I begged her to give you a chance. I told her you'd get over it eventually and she stayed. She gave you a chance to fix it and you fucked her over again. And with the same goddamn family."
"What the Hell are you—"
"Moira Knowles," Gemma spat, her olive eyes blazing. "It wasn't enough to flaunt your side pussy in your Old Lady's face. Sneaking her in through your backdoor was disrespectful enough. You had to go and bring her spawn into the mix!"
"I have no idea—"
"SHE'S NOT YOUR DAUGHTER!" Gemma bellowed, shoving him hard in the chest. "And that Cancer bitch is dead, you hear me?"
Opie drew in a sharp intake of breath as he watched his father's hands fly out backhanding Gemma across the face—the slap so hard it drew blood from her bottom lip. Pressing two fingers to her mouth, Gemma dabbed at it, holding her hand in front of her to stare at the scarlet staining her fingertips. Looking back up at the man breathing heavily, his fist clenched at his sides, the matriarch glared at him, angry tears slowly streaming down her face.
"Rose was an evil wench," Gemma spat, nostrils flaring. "Your Old Lady? Your wife? She wasn't just my best friend….she wasn't just the only female I've ever been able to tolerate for more longer than five minutes without wanting to strangle her. She was the closest thing I've ever had to a... My mom didn't give a shit. She didn't lose any sleep when I left. Mary was….she was….she IS," Gemma growled, "My family. And you've run her off…for no goddamn reason. She's dead, Piney. And Tara already has a father. Why the Hell are you carting your mistress's kid around like she's yours. Bringing her to Jackson's party? Letting her sleep under Mary's roof? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"You call that asshole a father?" Piney barked. "Moira's probably rolling over in her grave knowing who she left to raise her daughter. Tara's got no one—"
"She's got the Hales—"
"Bullshit," Piney interrupted. "You think that asshole Jacob gives a shit about someone else's kid? He barely does right by his own."
"You're full of excuses," Gemma snapped. "You're hanging on to that—"
"My palms are still tingling," Piney threatened. "Don't test me Gemma. I'll work it out with John later if I have to put his Old Lady in her place."
Gemma's laughter was a bitter sound. "I'm out of line for calling her out of her name? You think the fact that she only got on her knees for you makes her better than some croweater?"
"I'm walking away," Piney announced, stepping back. "Before the decades old relationship I have with my godson's father goes to shit because I knocked your fuckin teeth in."
"You need to walk away from her," Opie heard Gemma warn him as he backed away from his father's footsteps edging closer to the door. "That Knowles kid is not your responsibility. Your priority is—"
"My son," Piney barked, turning his head to glare at her. "My son and my club. Those are my priorities. Me and Mary used to share them….then she decided she didn't give a shit about either one. That's why she left. You chase after her if you want. Everyone I love is right here in Charming with me."
"Including that whore's daughter?"
Opie bit into his lip when he saw his father's balled up fist twitch.
Lucky for Gemma he didn't react that way Opie could tell he wanted to.
"That little girl's got no one to love her anymore," Piney said quietly. "Not the way she needs it. Not the way her mother loved her. Her Old man's so twisted up I doubt he knows what day of the week it is half the time. But he'll come around eventually…..he'll…..he'll find a way to work through it….how to go on with...he'll get on without her….and when he does I'll step back. Not before then. I'm not leaving Moira's kid out in the cold just because you think her mother chased yours away. Walking away was Mary's choice. It's like you said. Moira's….she's….she's dead so you can't blame her. And trying to put this shit on an innocent little girl is just as fuckin ridiculous. Let it go, Gemma. You can either do it voluntarily...or I'll make you."
Opie skirted away from the door. Rushing down the hall, he dipped into the room next to it, clicking the door shut behind him—his back against it as he stared across the room absently, a single tear rolling down his face.
The party he was missing outside—all the laughter…the fun and games that had served as a distraction….it was all gone.
All he could think about now was that he was right.
Deep down he'd already known she was lying to him—and now the truth had just been confirmed.
His mother was visiting grandma.
She was leaving.
She left.
She left him.
And she wasn't coming back.
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"HAPPY BIRRRRRRRRTHDAY DEAR JACKSONNNNNN! HAPPY BIRRRRTHDAY TO YOU!"
The triple chocolate cake tasted bland—or maybe his tongue had yet to pick up on the flavor. Maybe his sense of taste was numb along with the rest of his body as he sat outside on the bench alone, mixing the melted ice cream on his plate with the soggy cake as he looked down at the picnic table. No one had even noticed he wasn't inside.
Or so Opie thought.
"Opie?" Tara suddenly appeared, sitting down on the bench across from him—reaching over to brush her hand down his arm until he looked up at her. Opie lifted his head just in time to see Jax plop down next to her, one eyebrow raised in question as he stared at him.
"The party's inside, bro," Jax joked. "What's wrong? Lowell finally confess that he was in love with someone else?"
"Shut up," Tara scolded. "Can't you tell he's upset about something?"
Yeah right, Opie thought. That idiot doesn't notice anyone else as long as you're around.
"What's wrong, bro?"
Opie shook his head. "Nothing," he lied. "I'm just tired."
Several seconds passed by as Opie locked eyes with his best friend before Jax finally nodded once, reaching for Tara's hand.
"Come on," he said, returning Opie's measured smile as he pulled Tara to her feet.
"What?" Tara studied the weird smiles on both their faces—confusion marring hers. "No. Jax he—"
"Stop being so nosey," Jax teased, smirking at the glare she shot him. "If he wants to tell us about his secret love with LJ he'll do it when he's ready, right, bro?"
"Right," Opie agreed, smirking.
Thanks, bro.
He didn't say the words out loud as he watched them walk off arm in arm the way they always did despite denying they liked each other.
Opie didn't have to.
Jax knew exactly what he was thinking when he forced the smile on his face as he looked at him.
Just like he knew that whatever Opie was feeling, he'd tell him when he was ready—he always did.
They were best friends after all.
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"You better not be lying you little brat!"
Opie Winston looked up from his lap to see twelve year old Sarah Hale sticking her tongue out, flashing her middle finger at the car pulling off from the curb.
Watching as Jacob Hale Jr. sped down the block, Sarah waited until her brother was out of sight before crossing over from the Knowles front yard—headed over to the Winston's where Opie sat alone on his front steps.
"Hey, Harry."
Sarah's smile faltered when the teenage boy merely nodded up at her instead of jumping up to pull her into a bear hug the way he normally did.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked, sitting down next to him. Before the backs of her jeans settled against the red bricks of his front steps, Opie stood up, turning away from her as he headed towards his front door.
"Tara's not home," he told her. "Arthur went off again tonight. She's in my room sleeping."
"Oh."
"Jax doesn't know," Opie told her, narrowing his eyes. "Tara doesn't want anyone to….shit, I probably shouldn't have—"
"You really think I would snitch on you?"
You would to Jax.
"Sorry," Opie said, reaching for his front door knob. "She'll probably wake up if she knows you're here."
"I'll wake her up in a minute," Sarah said, patting the spot next to her on his front steps. "Sit with me."
"Why?" Opie asked, as he moved to do what she suggested. "What do you want?"
What are you up to now?
"Well I wanted to have a girls night," Sarah admitted, patting the bag full of nail polish, makeup and hair accessories in the clear caboose hanging on her arm. "But now I want to know what's wrong with you...you can tell me you know. And no I'm not gonna tell Jax."
Opie looked down at the ground. "My mom left us," he admitted quietly. "I don't think she's coming back. And…..and…..and I think it's my dad's fault."
Several minutes passed before Opie could no longer stand not knowing her reaction.
Looking up at Sarah, the haunted look on her face surprised him.
The pain swirling in the grays of her eyes was familiar—he recognized it because it oddly matched his own.
But then her expression changed—Sarah wiped the anguished look from her face so quickly part of him wondered if he'd imagined it.
"Mothers are useless," Sarah huffed, shaking her head as she stared out into the street.
Unconsciously, Opie slid closer to her—his arm pressing against hers as he said, "I know you fight with her a lot but at least she didn't pack her bags and leave you."
And lie about it.
"I'm gonna tell you something," Sarah said after another few minutes passed. "I never told anyone. Not even Tara." Sarah turned to face him, grey eyes willing him to understand how serious she was being when she quietly demanded, "You can't tell anyone."
"Okay," Opie agreed.
"Gloria's not really my mom."
Opie angled his body towards her completely, the widening of his eyes temporarily distorting the sadness that had been etched on his face since Jax's birthday party the weekend before. "You're adopted?"
"Nope." The letter 'P' flew past the tight line of her mouth with a distinct pop when she uttered the word, the honey-blonde curls framing her face bouncing left and right as she shook her head. "I'm just the Hale family's dirty little secret. Even Davey doesn't know. And if Jake knows he's doing a good job of hiding. I guess Daddy probably told him not to say anything…ever."
There was another pregnant pause.
And then—
"Wow."
As confused as he was, wow was the only word Opie could think to say. He hated when people tried to push him to talk. So he waited patiently for her to continue—or change the subject.
Whatever she wanted.
"I know what it feels like to have a mother that doesn't want anything to do with you," Sarah told him, wringing her hands in her lap. "I have two of them. My first mom was paid to disappear…to protect the family judge's public image…and the other one tolerates me because she doesn't want her friends to know that her husband cheated on her with his para-whatever-you-call-it and got her pregnant. That would be awful for the family image. No way would his career be as prestigious as it is if word got out. Lucky for them all they had to do was write her a check and Lynette was more than happy to skip town and leave me behind."
The corners of his eyes stung as Opie managed to widen them even further. "Lynette?" Opie half-whispered. "That's—"
Sarah nodded stiffly. "My middle name." She shrugged her shoulders, a bitter smile upturning the corners of her mouth as she stared down at the bottom step. "Knowing my dad the only reason I'm named after her is because it's part of whatever contract they signed….but then again, it's not like Gloria wanted me named after her….I was just the baby she came back with after an extended visit with her parents when her mother fell ill and Jake was sweet enough to stay with her until she was sure her mom would be okay on her own. I wish me and Davey could have been born only a few months apart instead of almost a whole year...it would have been way more fun pretending I had a twin. They could have said one of us were always hiding behind the other like Stephanie's brothers and that's why they didn't know they were expected two babies instead of one."
"I'm sorry, Sarah." Opie wrapped his arm around her, rubbing her back.
Sarah slowly accepted the hand reaching for hers—their fingers threading together as she rested her head against his shoulder. "It's okay," she told him. "Daddy makes up for it. He lets me do whatever I want and gets me anything I ask for. Even when I mess up Davey and Jake usually get in trouble. And I know he's probably just spoiling me because he feels bad….or I don't know…..maybe that's part of the contract, too…..it doesn't matter." Sarah pulled away from his embrace, pinning him with the passion and naïve, childlike acceptance bleeding from her beautiful features. "It doesn't matter, Harry. Even if your dad is the reason your mom wanted to leave he didn't force her. I know it hurts. It hurts me, too sometimes but they chose to leave. Your mom chose to leave just like my real mom chose to leave me…..just like my other mom pretends she doesn't hate me in public or when my brothers are around because she can't look at me without seeing my daddy's mistake."
"I'm gonna…." Opie looked away from her, staring towards the ground. "I miss her already."
It was Sarah that wrapped an arm around his shoulder this time.
"I know," Sarah said. "But you shouldn't be mad at Piney. Even if he messed up he's a good dad just like my daddy. Our fathers are all we got, Harry. At least we know they'll never abandon us no matter what."
Minutes passed by.
Ten? Twenty?
There was no way to tell for sure.
But then Opie finally lifted his head up to meet her eyes.
And for the first time he didn't see her as the girl that was always joined at the hip with his short-tempered but funny and loyal next door neighbor.
She wasn't just another girl running behind his best friend, batting her eyelashes every time Jax drawled the word Darlin the way his father and the other MC guys said it.
She wasn't the scheming, calculating, manipulative girl who always had an angle when she asked him a question, or when she gave an answer that confused him more than the question whenever he asked her one.
He liked this side of her, that he'd never been allowed to see.
Now he finally understood why Tara stayed friends with her even though she picked on her about her weight when she saw her eating something sweet.
Sarah Hale was….
Well she was already his friend wasn't she?
Yeah, she was.
And Opie Winston was starting to think of her as more.
He wanted her to be more.
"So," Sarah said, smacking her lips after taking a moment to triumph in the nod of understanding, the hand squeeze of appreciation and the bright smile she'd managed to coax out of him. "Is Jax gonna come sleep over your house again like last weekend?"
Alright folks.
One chapter down. And I have EXACTLY seven more to go before I hit complete on this little story. What do you think so far?
Let me know.
|REVIEW|
Who knows, your feedback might spark the creativity for CH2. I know what has to happen (it ties into Uncharming) it's a matter of figuring out how to put everything together. The water gun that fell on my head when I was ransacking the hallway closet definitely gave me the idea for a summery birthday (yes I know, he's a fall baby but California is always sunny) party to open this one. Weird how inspiration strikes huh?
- V. Crow
