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Chapter Two

"Do you want to come in and have a beer?" Jax asked, turning around and looking at me. I swallowed and shook my head slowly. I wasn't ready to see everyone yet. Not only was I exhausted on top of my jet lag, I also didn't want to talk to everyone about Hank. Not yet. He nodded with a small smile and got out of the driver's seat. Mom got out and took his spot while I took hers. She pulled away from the garage as Jax went inside the clubhouse. I looked down at my hands, twisting my wedding set around my finger like I had done so many times in the past week.

"You look good, baby. A little skinny but good." Mom said, pulling my head out of my thoughts. I glanced over at her and nodded with a light laugh. She had told me I was a little skinny last year when Hank and I visited for Christmas to. It was the first time he had come to California and first time he'd seen my family since the wedding. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't uneasy around them. He held his own and even got Jax's approval, after we'd already been married over three years.

"Thanks, Mom." I said softly. I unbuckled my seatbelt as she parked in the driveway of the house we had moved into a few years after Dad died. I was relieved to see that Clay's motorcycle wasn't in the driveway. We could be civil most of the time but I wasn't ready to deal with him just yet. I needed at least eight more hours of sleep and a few cups of coffee. Mom beat me to my suitcase and carried it inside for me despite my objections. She walked down the hall to the left and into my old bedroom. They had changed it into a guest room after I had gotten married. Really, it wasn't much different besides the absence of all my N'sync posters and collages of pictures. The pictures were saved in storage but I'd reluctantly agreed to let the posters go.

"Get some sleep, sweetheart. I'll have waffles for you when you wake up." Mom said, pulling me into her arms. I clinched my teeth together to keep from crying. Mom could see it in my eyes though, she'd always been able to read me pretty well. "You're allowed to cry, baby. You just can't stop living."

"Thank you, Mom." I squeezed her hand before she left the room and closed the door behind her. I sat down on the end of my old bed and stared down at my rings again. I wasn't sure why I was still wearing them but I couldn't bring myself to take them off. Not yet. Maybe never. I took a quick shower to get the plane air and germs off and then hit the bed. Maybe it was because I'd always slept in the bed alone so I wasn't reaching for Hank or because my body had finally reached the point of exhaustion, but I fell straight to sleep.

"Did you sleep okay?" Mom asked as I staggered into the dining room. I felt like a train had run over me, backed up and then did it again. Every muscle in my body was sore and my legs felt like lead.

"While I was sleeping. I feel like hell now." I muttered, sitting down in a chair across from her and putting my head into my hands. She chuckled and I peeked at her through my fingers. "It isn't funny."

"Let me get that waffle for you. There's fresh coffee if you want some." It was as if she'd asked a junkie if they wanted a hit. I practically fell out of my chair in order to get to the dark elixir of life. Mom chuckled again as I poured sugar into the cup while hunting a spoon. She opened a drawer and handed me one with a shake of her head. "Between you and Jax, I'm going to need to start buying sugar in bulk."

"Hank always made sure we had two bags in reserve. He drinks his coffee black. Drank." I said, dropping my eyes and feeling the smile slide away. It was hard, referring to him in the past. Mom didn't say anything until there was a fresh Belgian waffle with fruit in front of me. It was what she would always make me if I had a bad day or wasn't feeling good.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked as I poured some syrup in select squares of the waffle. I shrugged and set the syrup down, picking up my knife and fork.

"I told you what happened." I said, my voice lower than I was accustomed to hearing. She let me eat a few bites before leaning back in her chair with a sigh. I looked up at her and frowned. "He was supposed to be coming home that night. They work 24 hours on and then 48 hours off. I was at the grocery store picking up some things for dinner when he called and said they had a fire and that he might be late. I was annoyed. I know he could hear it on the phone."

I told her about how I'd gone home and started on dinner anyway. There were a lot of fires that ended up being barns or garages that didn't keep them out as long. I knew the area he worked was pretty rural, so I thought there was a chance he would be home before the food got cold. I was pulling the lasagna out of the oven when my phone rang. I'd already burned my finger on the pan, so I answered it without noticing who it was, all while cussing and hissing. It wasn't Hank telling me he was headed home. It was his Fire Chief telling me that there had been an accident. I dropped the pan on the floor and felt like I was going to pass out. It was a call I never expected to get. Hank was good at his job. His father had been a firefighter. He'd grown up around it. He knew how to be safe.

"I saw the family he saved at the hospital the day he died. They brought a gift basket and flowers to say thank you. Flowers and a gift basket in exchange for his fucking life." I said, shoving my food away. Mom caught my hand and covered it with her own. I pinched the bridge of my nose with my free hand and shook my head. "He didn't deserve to die."

"No, baby, of course he didn't. Of course he didn't." Mom said soothingly. I felt so many emotions swirling around inside of me. From anger to sadness to relief to guilt, they were all fighting for my attention, fighting to beat the other emotions out. It ended up making me feel sick. I closed my eyes and dropped my head.

"I'm exhausted from trying to be stronger than I feel." I said quietly. Ever since the call from Hank's Chief, I'd had to be strong for everyone. I had to be strong for Hank, for his sister Hailey, his mother, our friends, the doctors, the funeral director. I had to hold it together and get things done. I had to hold it together and tell Hank I didn't blame him and that I was proud of him. Maybe I was but I still wasn't able to feel it. Not yet. I was mad at him for choosing the lives of strangers over me, over us. I wasn't ready for him to leave. We had plans. Without him, I just had a mortgage I couldn't afford and a refrigerator full of casseroles that I would never eat.

"I understand, sweetheart. When your father died, I had to be strong. I had you and Jax to take care of." She said, pulling her hand back and picking up the plate I had pushed away. I took a deep, shaking breath. She was right. I couldn't even remember her crying much after Dad died. A few times here and there but that was it. I lit a cigarette and stared at my rings again. "No one expects you to take them off, sweetheart."

"I need to call and let the hospital know I'm out here. I have a few patients I need to talk to Dr. Thompson about." I grabbed my coffee and phone before walking out to the back deck. I set the mug on the second step and dialed into work as I sat down. "I need to speak to Dr. Thompson. This is Dr. Grant."

I waited for her to answer her page and thought about my first day at the hospital. It was terrifying. I was a brand new surgical resident, fresh out of medical school and working at one of the leading hospitals in Georgia. I hadn't even been there a year when Hank died. He had been my biggest supporter though. He never once complained about my hours or my grumpiness when I was sleep deprived. He brought me dinner on more than one occasion. That first day, I'd come home after a twenty-hour shift to a warm bath drawn for me and a cupcake on my nightstand.

"Dr. Grant, how are you?" I considered lying and saying that I was fine or something along those lines.

"I actually flew home last night. I needed to come see my family. I was calling to let you know that I'm going to take that week. I was also wondering how Ms. Redding was." I said, hoping the woman was doing better. She'd come into the emergency room after a motorcycle accident. Her husband hadn't made it. It was the first patient that really got to me.

"She's healing well physically. We're getting a psych consult to see if we can't get her to start coping." Dr. Thompson said, sounding rushed. I rolled my lips in and nodded silently. "I'll make sure Brenda emails you the paper for your bereavement time."

I put the phone down after she ended the call, immediately lighting up another cigarette. There was a slim chance that she even realized what she'd said. Ms. Redding didn't need medication to help her cope. She needed family. She needed someone not to tell her that everything was okay but to understand and agree that what happened sucked.

"I'm heading over to check on Wendy. Do you want to come?" Mom asked, interrupting my thoughts. I flicked the cigarette butt into the yard and stood up. "Alexis Grace, I know you did not just flip that into my yard. You better pick that up."

"Sorry." I muttered, hurrying to get it out of the yard before she started yelling my full name again. I held it up to her as I walked inside and put it in the ashtray. She nodded and closed the sliding glass door. "Give me a few minutes to change."

"Hurry your skinny ass up." She said, lighting a cigarette of her own. I pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a loose, white tank and a thin, plaid shirt that I left open. I was still rolling my sleeves up when we walked out to the car. I noticed Mom looking at my combat-style boots and shrugged. "Some things never change, huh?"

"Mom, I'm five-nine. I don't like wearing heels when I don't have to." I explained. Hank had been about five inches taller than me, so it wasn't so much of an issue with him, but I still didn't like being so tall in heels. "So, are Jax and Wendy officially divorced or is it a work in progress?"

"No, it's official, finally. She hasn't really taken it well." Mom said, turning onto the street our old house and now Jax's house was on. I frowned when we pulled up. It was the same house but the grass was higher than it should have been and it just looked neglected. Mom nodded her head, reading exactly what I was thinking. Things only got worse when we got inside. There was junk everywhere. Clothes thrown here and there, garbage overflowing in the kitchen and the smell was almost sickening.

"Gemma. You can't just walk in here." Wendy's voice came from the front door. Her speech was slow and tired sounding. I walked back into the living room and narrowed my eyes at her. "Lexie?"

"Wow, I'm surprised you haven't fried to many brain cells to recognize me. Long-term memory is one of the first things to go." I said. I walked over and grabbed her right arm, turning it over.

"Stop, I'm clean." Wendy said, yanking her arm away from me. I didn't believe her for a minute. She scoffed and stuck out both arms. I pursed my lips and shook my head.

"There's plenty of other places your tracks can be. I promise you, if you end up jeopardizing my nephew's life because you're too pathetic to stay clean or ask for help, I'll kill you myself." I hissed, pushing her arm out of my way. She scoffed but I didn't hear her following me out of the house. I waited outside while Mom stayed inside a little while longer, no doubt having her own words with Wendy. I quickly sent the text I'd been typing out and put my phone away when Mom stormed outside. The last thing I needed was her asking who I was texting.