Building Blocks (By Design, #7)

by J.A. Armstrong

“Grief is a bitch,” Candace said bluntly surprising Marianne. “It is,” Candace said. “It makes you question a lot of things, even yourself.”

When someone is screaming, Candy it’s because they want to be right. When someone is listening, it’s because they want to do right. Listen until you can’t listen anymore. People have a hard time arguing with a listener.”

“If there is one thing I hate more than ignorance it is arrogance. Ignorance you can cure, arrogance….”

It’s not easy. I have to remind my kids that Jameson is my wife, not just their friend. And, I have to remind Jameson that as much as I love my children, she is my partner. Balancing families is never easy.”

“We both have opinions that we can be passionate about. Most of the time, we find the humor in it. It’s work, even for us. It’s worth it, though.”

“Mmm....It’s hard when you’ve always been the caretaker to let someone take care of you. You’re independent and giving, so is Jonah. So am I. So is Jameson. Learn to let the rope go a little and stop tugging for control. You both want the same thing. Just learn to loosen your grip a bit, and so will he. You’ll find the middle ground. Learn to take care of each other. When you can do that? You know you’ve found the right person.”

Candace’s touch was tender and searching. It conveyed passion, but Jameson knew that Candace meant to communicate something far deeper than lust. Candace had sensed Jameson’s lingering fear. Everything about Candace’s touch told Jameson that Candace understood what Jameson needed most. She needed to be reminded that Candace was safe.

Candace smiled lovingly at her, speaking a truth that no words could ever hope to explain. The connection between them had always astonished Jameson. She felt it acutely in the simplest moments, in the gentle grasp of Candace’s hand, in an exchanged smile from across a crowded room, even in the tone of Candace’s voice when she answered one of Jameson’s impromptu calls.

Jameson let go completely. Her hands moved to Candace’s back and held onto Candace firmly as Candace’s touch lifted her again and promptly sent her body spiraling downward in blissful surrender.

“Jameson, you are the most important person in the world to me. You know that, don’t you? I love the kids. I love Pearl. I love what I do, but I will tell you something. When Drew helped me in that car the other day, the first thought I had was you. I wanted you at that moment more than I have ever wanted anyone with me in my life.”

Candace had once told Jessica that there was only one way to win a war—that required more integrity than manipulation. History had a tendency to repeat itself until it was set right.

Candace loved her mother but she had never felt the bond to her mother that she had felt instantly with Pearl. And, Candace had seen that in Jonah with Jameson. He loved his father and he had liked Jessica, but Jonah and Jameson shared a bond that went far beyond friendship or step-parent and step-son. He regarded Jameson as his parent and Candace was positive that as strange as it might have seemed to some people, Jameson felt exactly the same way.

“Families are really what we make them,” she told Laura. “I understand. I love my mother. She’s my mother. But, Pearl? Pearl is truly my mom. Whether I skinned my knee or had a broken heart, Pearl was always the person I sought. She still is.”

“Love doesn’t have limits, Laura. You can love as many people as you choose, and in my experience when you love someone, you will always love them. That doesn’t mean that they are beside you forever. Things separate us—our choices, their choices, even death. You don’t have to stop loving one person because you find refuge in another.”

“Would it still be okay?” Laura asked hesitantly. “Would what be okay?” Candace asked. “You said once that if I wanted to, I could call you Mom,” Laura’s voice dropped. Candace felt the warmth of a tear bathe her cheek. “I would be honored.”

Abuse was something that Jameson understood from a unique perspective. She had been a naïve teenager and had begun dating a young man three years older. He had made the decision for both of them that it was time to be intimate. Jameson had protested but fear forced her into submission. It was an experience that still haunted her at times. She had struggled with intimacy and trust for years.

“What I can tell you, Jonah is that no matter how many times I’ve told myself that it wasn’t my fault, no matter how many days or weeks pass that I don’t think about it. Eventually, something brings it back. It never goes away. You learn to move through it. You learn that it can’t define you or conquer you, but it is part of you—part of your life.”

Jonah, the fact that Laura told you…It means she truly trusts you, not just that she loves you.

Jameson sighed. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” “I never enter a battle that I can’t win, sweetheart.” Jameson kissed Candace sweetly. “You are not in this alone.” “I know. That’s why I can do it,” Candace said.

Jameson had not even begun to touch her, and Candace was finding herself breathless. The heat from the steady stream of water that pelted Candace’s skin paled by comparison to the fiery passion lighting Jameson’s eyes. Candace sometimes wondered when that might fade—the desire that burned between them. In moments like this, when Jameson looked at her, Candace felt confident that the passion they shared would never diminish.

Jameson watched as need began to etch the small creases at the corner of Candace’s eyes. Jameson ached to touch Candace. She had missed the feel of Candace against her—Candace’s softness, the sound of Candace’s desperate sighs as she would begin to submit to Jameson’s touch. Jameson felt as if she fell in love with Candace over and over again. Each time she felt herself begin to fall, she would begin to crave Candace all over again. And, every time they came together, Jameson found herself lost in the sensations that Candace’s closeness provided. It was an intoxicating blend of comfort and eroticism, longing and tenderness. Candace was Jameson’s sanctuary, her safe harbor.

Jameson continued her sensual exploration, tasting and teasing Candace’s flesh deliberately, knowing each place to linger. She pressed Candace up against the far wall and gripped Candace’s hips tightly. Dropping to her knees slowly, Jameson trailed warm kisses over Candace’s abdomen. She kissed a small area where one of the incisions for Candace’s surgery had been made. Jameson’s fingertips gently circled it, and she looked up at Candace. Candace looked at Jameson and smiled lovingly. Jameson sighed, and Candace cupped her cheek. “I’m all right,” Candace promised. “I don’t want to hurt you.” “I told you, loving you could never hurt me.”

Jameson intended to take her time as much as she could. That had never been easy. From the first time that they had made love, Jameson had always became lost in Candace. She had missed Candace, missed touching her and making love to her. Jameson was a physical person. She always had been. She had always felt more comfortable expressing her emotions with actions.

Even in the heat of passion, even when their lovemaking became demanding, Jameson’s touch remained tender. There had been moments—many of them—that Candace had believed she might die from the connection that pulsed between them when they made love.

Her body hummed from the myriad of sensations invading it. Jameson was bathing her in a flurry of erotic kisses that sent shivers up and down her spine in spite of the warm sprinkles of water that fell over her skin in a soothing caress. She was struggling to breathe against the waves of pleasure crashing over her. She gasped when she felt Jameson’s hand move to the small of her back and pull her what seemed impossibly closer. Immediately, Candace began to fall into Jameson.

She prided herself on seeing the good in the world, in believing in the possibility of leaving the world a better place than she had found it. Some days tested her beliefs and her resolve.

Every day there were reminders that safety was an illusion in life.

Her work ensured that reality. Jameson wondered if anyone could comprehend how profoundly Candace was always impacted emotionally by the pain she saw in the world. One thing that Jameson did know, once Candace’s inevitable tears subsided, her resolve to make things better would be strengthened yet again. It was one of the many things about Candace that Jameson not only loved, but admired and respected.

“Many faces, Jameson. We all wear at least three, the one we show most of the world, the one we reserve for the few that we trust, and the face we wear when we are alone.

Life has a way of teaching you that you are never really in control,” Candace explained. “That is only another face you wear.”

“I told you a long time ago that falling in love happens in an instant. What I didn’t say is that we fall in love in different ways. You think that means what you and Candace have. It does. We also fall in love with our children, our friends, our parents. That does happen in an instant. Although, sometimes it takes us a while to realize that it has happened at all,” Maureen said.

Children were not afraid to offer frank assessments of what they saw and felt, at least, not children who felt secure and cared for.

“It was inevitable, Jameson. Some people think that the truth lies in perception. There is truth to that on many fronts. But, it is also true that concealing the truth never works forever. The fact is, the deeper you bury it and the longer it takes to unearth, the more blinding it is when it eventually sees the light of day. It always sees the light of day.”

“Truth can be twisted, Jameson, like tangled roots. Those roots can choke the life out of the garden they were meant to feed if you don’t tend to them. That’s why keeping the truth out of the light of day is such a dangerous business. Just like roots, truth tends to curve and bend in the darkness. It forgets where it started, what it was meant to serve in the first place.”

“You can’t tend a garden in the darkness,” she observed. “If you want it to blossom, you have to give it light.”