Unavoidable Chance (2 page)

“Did you want to take my hand so I can help you up, or did you want to sit on your ass the rest of the night?” he asks. His deep voice reverberates in my chest, and again, I realize I’m just staring at him with my mouth open. I roll my eyes and reluctantly put my hand in his. He pulls me to my feet like I’m a feather. “Sorry, I didn’t see you coming. Are you alright?” he asks.

“Uh, yes, I’m fine. Sorry, I think that was more my fault. I was on a mission and kind of had some tunnel vision going on,” I say embarrassed.

“Again, sorry,” he says, as he wipes a tear from his cheek with his left hand. My brain comes back to me and I recall that yes, we’re in a cemetery. And why is he by my dad’s grave? Did he know my dad? No, he couldn’t have, my dad didn’t act like he knew him at the restaurant. I then notice the additional wet tear drops on his t-shirt just under his collarbone.

“I, uh…I’m just here to see…you’re the chef from Jax, right?”

“Yes, I’m Jaxon Landry, and you’re Amelia, right?” he says, squinting his eyes trying to place the correct name.

“Close, I’m Ava. My sister is Amelia,” I correct him.

“I knew it started with an A,” he says, glancing at the grave next to my dad’s. I look at the headstone and read the name, Scarlett Landry. She was born the same year I was but died two years ago. Is this his sister? Below her name is the inscription, ‘Beloved wife, mother, and friend’. I’ve processed all this information in the matter of only a few seconds and have come to the conclusion that this has to be his wife. A flood of memories hit me as I think of my oldest brother, Asher, when he lost his first wife, Olivia, to a drunk driver, and just how emotional and heartbreaking that was for my brother and our entire family. I also realize that I’m still holding Jax’s hand.

If you could only live in my brain and navigate the million different directions I can think in such a short amount of time, I think you’d fall over dizzy. I’m here to see my dad. I’m holding a cute man’s hand in a cemetery with his wife watching. I need to get home and answer e-mails. I need to send my assistant a text. Don’t forget you have to be in court at ten in the morning. Shit, I left a load of laundry in the washing machine. I need to take back those shoes I bought. It’s going to rain tomorrow, so don’t forget to take the umbrella out of my gym bag. Oh, and again, you’re holding a cute man’s hand!

“Again, I’m sorry for knocking you over,” he says, letting go of my hand. Then he turns back to the grave next to my dad.

That was a strange conversation. He kneels down on one knee, plants his right fist in the ground, then he places his left hand on top of her grave. He closes his eyes and his lips start to move, but no sound comes out. I stand there for a few seconds hoping he’ll finish up soon and leave so I can talk to my dad in private. I glance back at Shay, Adrian and the kids and I see Shay and Adrian leaning against the car with smirks on their faces as the kids run around the car giggling.

Jax is still down on one knee and really, what do I care what he thinks if I talk to my dad. So I get down on both knees, because he’s down on one so I have to do better and get down on two. I start to feel shy and a little crazy about talking out loud as I glance at Jax out of the corner of my eye to the right. He’s still down on one knee with his eyes closed not giving me a second thought, so on with it, I guess.

Jax

My wife’s grave was the only one in the row the day my two beautiful and sweet little girls, Skylar and Hope, and I buried their mother. Over the past year, plot after plot has started to fill up. Then one day I came to see my wife, and the rectangle of freshly moved earth and grass next to her held the tell-tale sign, she had a new neighbor. My wife’s marble headstone stood out next to the small bronze temporary marker they place in the ground until a permanent headstone can be made. I read the name S. Wellington and foolishly introduced my wife, Scarlett Landry, to her new neighbor.

In the beginning, I visited my wife’s grave every day. I was destroyed the day I got the call while I was over in Afghanistan that my wife had died. It was never supposed to be her. If anyone it should have been me. I was doing my third tour of duty the day my world stood still. I was a PJ or a pararescue jumper, in the United States Air Force. My wife and I had this silly little ritual we’d do whenever I was deployed. She’d make me pinky promise to come back to her and our girls with a smile on my face. The smile on my face was important to her. She knew what it took to do my job. Coming home with a smile on my face was never a problem. The minute I got home and my eyes locked with my three girls I couldn’t help but smile. It never occurred to me to make my wife promise me to still be here when I got back.

I joined the Air Force straight out of high school. I knew I wanted to make it my life-long career. I wanted to be a PJ. My job was to recover and give medical treatment to personnel in humanitarian and combat environments. It was a long and grueling training process, but I thrived on it. I was a self-proclaimed nerd in high school, and I couldn’t wait to graduate and join the Air Force, where no one knew me, or my past. Where I could have a fresh start, and create a whole new person, and be whoever I wanted to be. I went in a scared, scrawny eighteen year old boy, and after the initial ten weeks of Team Training, I came out a confident trim, and fit man.

The PJ program is one of the military’s toughest programs. There are several sections to the program that take from days to weeks and months to complete. Many times I thought I’d die just from the physical demand they required, but the first day I placed that maroon beret on my head, the satisfaction coursed through my veins and I knew it was well worth it. I had achieved what I had set out to do.

My life changed yet again the day I met Scarlett. I was doing my six week Combat Diver School program in Panama City, Florida. During the limited free time I was allowed, I liked going to the beach. I was born and raised in Seattle, but nothing compares to the beaches in Florida. I spotted a tiny blonde-haired, blue-eyed goddess wearing a lifeguard swimsuit sitting in a tower. She was my Rapunzel in a castle. It wasn’t the brightest idea, but I pretended to be drowning. I guess I swam out a little too far, and I was the one who ended up rescuing her. When she found out I was in fact, an expert swimmer, she was slightly pissed. To make up for it, I asked her to dinner. We spent the next few hours talking, and as it turned out she too was from the Seattle area, and growing up we only lived about thirty miles from each other.

Both of our families still live in Seattle. Just goes to show you what a small world we live in. We spent every minute we could together. I was headed off to Washington in only a few weeks for Basic Survival School, but I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this woman. We started a long distance relationship until I finished my training. It was crazy to think that up until then, I never saw myself being in a relationship. I only knew her a short time, but I just knew I was going to make her my wife. I only just met her, but I missed her so much. I survived on letters and Skype.

She came to my graduation and it was murder not being able to go to her until after the ceremony. Before I could even wrap her in my arms, I got down on one knee and proposed. Proposing to my wife on the day I graduated was a dream come true, and the happiest day of my life. We got married the very next weekend. We moved around quite a bit, but my wife never complained. We started our little family, and had settled into a familiar routine.

For my third tour, I was called out like the two times before. I gave her my pinky swear, kissed my little girls, and proudly went to serve my country. Little did I know it would be my last time. During a rescue mission, we took on small arms fire while loading a patient into the helicopter, and I was hit in the knee. The rescuer had now become the rescuee. I knew the minute the bullet sliced through my knee cap that my career was over. There was no recovering and going back to active duty. As I slept in the infirmary waiting for my flight back to the States, I woke up in a full panic. I was drenched with sweat and woke up screaming. The nurses thought it was some sort of flashback, but I felt it in my heart, I knew this was different. An immense darkness of loss flooded my soul, and told me something horrible had happened to my wife.

I got word the next morning that my wife’s appendix had burst. As routine as that surgery is, they didn’t get to her in time and my wife died on the operating table. I found out later that she had waited to call someone, because she didn’t want to disturb anyone to come and stay with the girls since it was the middle of the night.

If I had only been there, would my wife still be alive today?

I went home a broken man. I lost a career I had trained so hard for, and I lost the woman that I loved with all my heart. I never really had time to accept any of this or have time to properly grieve. I had to be strong for my two little girls.

After being honorably discharged from the Air Force, I decided to move back to Seattle to be close to our families. I couldn’t raise my daughters on my own. They needed to be close to family; I needed to be close to family.

We buried my wife in her hometown. I took the life insurance money, and the little money that we had saved up, and on a whim, I opened a restaurant. I have no formal training and looking back it was probably the most careless thing I could have done with our money.

I’ve always loved to cook, and as it turns out, I’m damn good at it. Jax Restaurant is a huge success.

I miss my wife every minute of every day. I went from missing my little girls’ births and all their firsts, to being their best friend and sole parent. I didn’t have a clue how to raise two girls, I still don’t. If it weren’t for the constant love and support from our family and my sister, Quinn, I’m sure I would have failed.

That was two years ago. Skylar, who is now eight, and Hope, who is now four are my world. I live and breathe for their happiness. My goal in life is to be the best father I can be.

I knew the second I ran into Ava who she was. I played dumb and called her by her sister’s name. I don’t even know why I did that. Until she came into my restaurant, all women appeared grey to me, but when our eyes locked for the first time, color invaded my vision once again. I also knew who S. Wellington was the day he appeared next to Scarlett. I’ve seen Ava and her brothers and sister several times at their father’s grave, although I don’t think they’ve ever noticed me.

Chapter 2

Ava

Jax is still kneeling at his wife’s grave, and I start to have an argument in my brain if I should just go back to the car and wait for him to leave and come back when he’s gone, or just ignore him. But this is a public area, and why should I have to leave? So, I turn my back to Jax while still looking at my dad’s headstone, and say what I came here to say.

“I love you too, Daddy. I’m so sorry I didn’t say it back. I heard what you and mom were trying to tell me, and I’m going to listen to you. I promise to slow down…” I can feel Jax looking at me. I dart my eyes to the right, and I see Jax openly staring at me. I move a little more to the right, and by this time I’m no longer in front of my dad’s gravestone, but kneeling completely to the side of it in the small space between the two graves. I roll my eyes and continue. “I promise to slow down and…” I get the feeling of being watched again, so I turn my head and see Jax craning his neck to see what I’m doing. The second our eyes meet, his eyes immediately go back to his wife’s grave in front of him. Sheesh, the dude has nerve, I can tell you that.

Now back to what I need to say to my dad. “As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted. I promise to slow down and…Do you mind!” I shout the last three words turning around and catch Jax not only looking at me, but he’s only one step behind me.

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me, I’m done here anyway. I’ll just leave you alone,” he says, starting to leave.

“Forget it. I said everything I came to say. I’ll leave.” I pivot on my heel, turn around, and walk back to the car. It may have been more of a stomp than a walk, but seriously.

“But…”

With my back still turned to him, I hold my hand up in the air that universally says, “
Nope, we’re good,”
and I keep walking.

We all pile back in Adrian’s car. Shay turns her whole body around in the passenger seat, raises her eyebrows, and does some sort of monkey face that looks like a frown, but silently asks, “
What was all that about”?
I ignore her face and her unspoken question and help Makayla buckle her seat belt.

I turn around and look out the back window as Adrian drives off, and I see Jax with a dumbfounded look on his face. He hangs his head, then walks back to his…what the hell is he driving? An H3! GI-Joe drives a mini Hummer, that figures. I hear the rumble of a Harley and see Max and Chloe driving up, then park right where we just left. I raise my hand in the back window and give a little wave to them. At that exact time, Jax decides to look my way and he thinks I’m waving at him. He waves back with a smile on his face. Oh, my God, he waved back at me. I start waving my hands around trying to tell him no, I’m not waving at him, he looks confused, then I quickly pull my hands down, turn around in my seat and cross my arms over my chest. God, men are so stupid.

We drive back to my mother’s house so I can get my car. I’m still shaking my head at Jax’s audacity. He was completely eavesdropping on my conversation with my dad. Who does that?

I slide in my cherry red convertible Mercedes SL Class Roadster and head to my condo. Thoughts of Jax and his muscled forearms drift in my brain as I start to see them wrapping around my back as he pulls me close.

What?

Where did that come from? I grip the steering wheel and quickly push those thoughts right the fuck out of my mind. At least I did get to say what I needed to say to my dad; even if it was interrupted by Jax…Mmm he can pick me up off the ground again, then I’d wrap my legs around his waist.