by Jo Watson
“I don’t know why you’re so worried—my mother is going to love you.” We enter the restaurant and almost immediately a small woman runs up and throws her arms around Jackson. I try to let go of his hand so he can hug her properly with both arms, but he keeps his grip on my hand and wraps his other arm around his mother. When she pulls back from him her eyes dart to mine, and I smile as warmly as I can manage while the butterflies take flight in my stomach.
“Mom, this is Madeline.”
Jackson’s mother wraps her arms around me before I can even say hello. She is warm and soft and gentle as she kisses my cheek. “It is so nice to meet you. You can call me Peggy. I am so glad you could come to dinner with us tonight. I had to meet the girl I have been hearing so much about.” A thrill races through me and I look to Jackson, who shrugs and smiles. I wish I could introduce him to my family, but they would never be receptive to the idea.
The conversation throughout dinner is easy. Peggy tells me about her daughter and about how much she loves volunteering at the library in their hometown.
“It’s so nice to finally be able to step away from the family business, now that the board is running it so efficiently. I’d much rather be spending my time surrounded by stories and fellow booklovers.”
“Oh!” I look quizzically at Jackson. “I didn’t realize your family ran a company. Jackson has never mentioned it. My family lives for our business and sometimes I wonder if my brothers even go home at night.”
“Mom,” Jackson gives his mother a warning glance. “You and I agreed we wouldn’t talk about the business tonight, remember? We’re here so you two can get to know each other.”
“We’re not talking business, Jackson, we’re talking about how life is too short to be stuck inside an office all day. Madeline, our family learned quickly that all the money you make is no good to you if you don’t have time to spend it. It’s people that are important.”
“I’m a people person too,” I agree. “That’s why I chose a degree in social work. I’m planning on minimizing my time at the hotels.” Peggy’s eyes shoot over to Jackson’s.
“Well, I’m sure you made the right choice. Social work is a wonderful profession; I considered it myself when I was young.” She shakes her head. “I just can’t believe how much you two already have in common.”
Jackson quickly changes the subject to how intense the past few weeks have been, trying to finish up the requirements for his business degree.
“Following in his father’s footsteps.” Jackson’s mother beams with pride. “Although I think it is just as important that he is taking this time to follow his dream of being a professional football player. I have always told him there is plenty of time to take over the business. He should explore what he is good at and what he loves.” I see him smile gratefully at her, looking genuinely at peace with that plan.
When the waiter takes our plates and offers us the dessert menus, Jackson takes the opportunity to put his hand on my leg under the table. I become aware at once that he doesn’t care who sees him touching me. It is so different with him.
“Let me guess, Rookie, you are going to get the chocolate cake.” I can feel my cheeks flush and I shoot a look in his mother’s direction, but her face is hidden behind her menu.
“Oh, I love chocolate cake, too,” she enthuses. When I glance back at Jackson he scrunches up his nose at the visual he must be imagining and I can’t help but to giggle. When the waiter takes our order, Jackson puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me against him in the booth. I am worried that his mother won’t approve, but she smiles at us warmly. I love the way her eyes light up when she sees Jackson smile.
After dinner, we walk Peggy to her rental car and Jackson opens her door for her. During dessert I learned that she is here to see a few of her old sorority sisters for a small reunion. I had wondered why Jackson wasn’t choosing to spend more time with her while she was in town, but she told me that she likes to give him his space, and still needs her girl time. His mother kisses his cheek and gives him a big hug before moving on to me. When she pulls me in I shut my eyes at the tenderness and immediately remember the way it felt to be engulfed in my mother’s embrace.
“Take good care of my boy,” she says, kissing my cheek. “I am trusting you to make sure he minds his manners. I didn’t spend all those years teaching him only to have him forget it all when he crossed the state line.” She sends Jackson a warning look but then quickly blows him a kiss. We watch as she gets in the car and drives away.
Our walk to his truck is silent as I process how wonderful it feels to remember another thing about my mother that had been locked away for all these years. When we get into the truck and on the road, I find myself mindlessly sliding the star necklace back and forth across its chain. It has been tucked into my shirt during dinner but now my fingers feel drawn to it. Jackson looks over from his side of the truck and studies my movements.
“You never told me what you were running from the night you found that.” He peers in my direction, then moves his eyes back to the road.
“My brothers want me with Greg. It’s nothing personal, they have just hand-picked him for me and they won’t let it go. Whether I am in love with him or not doesn’t matter—they say that will develop over time. In my family’s circle, marriages are more about being a good team, with love coming second. Greg is a respectable man with a great job and a promising future. To my brothers, he seems like the obvious answer. When I marry him, they get to hand over the responsibility of looking after me. I imagine that will be a big load off their backs.”
“You said when, Rookie.” He looks at me with such seriousness I almost miss what he has said. My face must show my confusion because Jackson repeats, “You said when, not if. I will take these three weeks if that’s all I get, but it kills me to think that you’ll marry him and live your life unhappily.”
“Will I? That’s the problem, Jackson. I don’t know what makes a good marriage. I do love him and I care about his happiness. I just don’t feel drawn to him like I do to you. I don’t get butterflies when he is around. I know it sounds crazy, but when you’re with me it’s like the air around us becomes charged. Nothing that feels this good can last forever.” I let go of the star and let it fall beneath my collar again.
“Maddy, I don’t know if this feeling lasts forever. All I know is that I feel it, too. I don’t know how you are going to walk away from this at the end of our time, because the thought of you leaving causes panic in me. Right now I don’t want to know what it would be like to not have you. I don’t understand why you would make choices about who you share your life with based on how confident your brothers feel about handing over the responsibility. For fuck’s sake, you aren’t some family heirloom—you’re a person!”
“Jackson, I said ‘when’ instead of ‘if’ because my future has been a foregone conclusion for a while now. I don’t think anyone saw you coming: not Greg, not my brothers and certainly not me. It’s almost as if I was going through my life unaware of what I was missing, and then someone shined a light down another path as if to say, ‘Don’t miss this part over here.’ It never mattered before where the path I was on ended, because it was the only one. With you the end seems so important; it’s the position from which I would argue not marrying Greg. If I could tell my brothers I would be okay and have them believe that, then I could move forward down the path with you, but they’re right—I don’t know what’s at the end.”
Jackson pulls into my parking lot and shuts the engine off. He runs his fingers through his hair and thinks for a minute. “Maddy, no one knows what is at the end of any path. My mother married my father when they were just out of high school. He was dead before I turned five. Do you think she would change her decision if she knew where the path with him was going to end? Do you think your father would have chosen differently knowing that his path with your mother would end so soon? It is never about the end—it’s about the time you spend together on the way to
it. Greg may be able to promise sunshine and rainbows, and your brothers might believe he provides the stable path, but you know as well as I do it’s bullshit. I can’t tell you where our path would end because no one honestly can, but I can tell you that I want to walk beside you every day. Whether you accept my company or not will be your choice, but I can tell you one thing—your brothers can’t give away something that is not theirs to begin with.”
It is quiet for a minute inside the truck and then Jackson opens his door and walks around to my side to let me out. He holds my hand as we walk up to the apartment and I squeeze it tight, because I am afraid that my inability to make the choice my heart wants will cause him to let me go. When we get to the door he kisses me gently on the lips.
“Good night, Rookie,” he says softly, and then lifts the corners of his mouth in a small smile that falls instantly. I watch him turn and walk away, each step taking a small piece of my heart.
“Jackson,” I say, loud enough that he stops his retreat and turns back to me. “I think you’re forgetting something important.” His head tips to the side and his brows scrunch in question.
“What would that be?” He starts to take a few slow steps back toward me.
“It’s my move,” I say with a mischievous smile, “and I say you’re staying the night.” I might not know where this is going, but I’ll be damned if it is ending right here.
Chapter Twelve
My creepy new hobby is watching Jackson as he sleeps. I love drifting off with his warmth all around me, but in the morning I wiggle out of his arms so I can watch him; the peaceful look on his face puts my heart at ease. I want to choose him. Every day when I wake up I reach for him and each night before I go to sleep he is the last thing I think about. He consumes me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Tonight is the last game of the season, and the first football game I will ever attend. Jackson has arranged special seats for Abby, Kyle and me. I am hoping that Abby and Kyle can forget their troubles and enjoy the evening. Leaving my bedroom each morning is like walking into a funeral—the mood is so heavy and the overwhelming need to break down is almost contagious. Abby and I haven’t spoken about Kyle’s job opportunity yet, but today we plan to skip our classes and have a girls’ day before the big game.
I trace a line across Jackson’s brow and down his cheek because I just need to touch him. His eyes flutter open and he smiles when he sees my face. He tucks his arm under me and pulls me to him so that my head is resting on his chest. I feel completely at peace.
“What are your big plans for today, Rookie?” he asks, his voice heavy with sleep.
“Abby and I are getting our nails done and then we are going to grab some lunch. What time do we need to be at the stadium?”
“The kickoff is at five, so be there before four-thirty to make sure you can get to your seats in time. Remember to go to the special gate I showed you yesterday so that you can get into the section I saved for you.” I nod against his chest and wrap my arm around him.
Abby is no longer surprised when Jackson emerges from my room in the mornings. It happens more days than it doesn’t. He has blended well into our morning routine, making coffee for everyone and clicking on the sports news for himself and Kyle. Kyle is here now more than ever. I think he and Abby must feel a more intense version of what Jackson and I are feeling; they have been together for three years and there is a possibility that they won’t be able to come to an agreement and stay together. Jackson and I have been around each other for only two weeks and the thought of our time being over is almost too painful to think about.
After breakfast the boys head off to their activities for the day. Kyle and Jackson have known each other for a few years—apparently they have a couple of mutual friends and have had a few classes together—but their connection through Abby and me has helped to develop that friendship.
Abby and I get in the car to head over to the nail salon. She is trying to be strong but, honestly, this is the most feeble I have ever seen her. Her eyes are dark and puffy and she seems to have lost her spark. “Abby, is everything all right? Are you going to be okay if Kyle moves to Florida?”
“‘Okay’ is actually the perfect word. I am okay and it will be okay. I don’t think I will ever be happy, and I know that my heart will never feel whole. Right now my options are to move with him and uproot my entire life for a boyfriend, or stay here and start over. You know how family is: they won’t support me leaving everything for a boy, even if we have been together for a long time and I love him.”
I do know how family is, and it is because of that that I just nod and offer a small smile. “As of this morning, where are you at with those options?” I also know how quickly your mind can bounce from one choice to another. Just when I think I have figured out what I am going to do, my mind decides to explore the other choice again.
“It might sound stupid, but I am not choosing. I just can’t. I guess a decision will be made by default. If he wants it badly enough, he will choose the job and that should be information enough for me. If he wants me badly enough, we will make this choice together and find our happiness somewhere in between. Right now, he isn’t really talking about what I want, just trying to convince me that I could be happy anywhere.”
“So you will only be happy if you stay here? That’s kind of ironic—I would give anything to get away.”
“Ah, but you forget that sometimes the choices are not so black and white. There are many places that I could be happy. Like that stupid saying, ‘home is where the heart is.’ I just need to know that I am a partner in the decision. Sound familiar? And as for you, if you would only look beyond the story your family has written for you, you would find that your prince might not live in their small kingdom.” She smiles at me as I watch her driving.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Jackson isn’t staying here, Madeline. I haven’t been a very good friend to you because I am drowning in all of this relationship shit I have going on with Kyle. If I had been there for you I would have made sure you knew what you were dealing with. Do you really think Jackson is going to stay here after graduation? He is the star quarterback for a Division One college. Last I heard, he was rumored to be a possible first-round draft pick. He’s going to be gone. If you don’t get your head out of your ass, you are not only going to end up married to Greg, bless his heart; you are going to be thousands of miles away from the only man that I have ever seen make you happy.”
Nausea hits me in a wave, and I swallow down the lump that clogs my throat as I process what she is saying. I have been in denial about this. When I think about my choices I always imagine that things would just go on like they are now with Jackson. I have never considered how horrible it would feel to know that he had moved on without me. Sure, I have thought about running into him at school with girls, but my forever without him would stretch much farther than that. I would want to know how he was, where he was and what he was doing in his life. I can’t imagine what it would be like to let him go. It sounds selfish, and it is, but I just can’t see a life for myself without Jackson in it.
“Abby, I can’t see my family ever accepting Jackson. They can only see Greg—how stable he is, how much time they’ve spent grooming him to be the perfect husband for me. If I were to choose Jackson, I’m afraid I would be choosing to walk away from them. If it were as simple as Greg or Jackson, I wouldn’t be struggling with this decision. It’s more of a contest between Jackson and my family. It’s times like this that I wish I could talk to my mother; I feel like she might be more reasonable and understand me better.”
“Why do you say that?” Abby pulls into the parking lot and turns to face me. “What makes you think your mother would want something different than what your brothers and your father want for you?”
“Remember when I went to my aunt’s house a few weeks ago?” Abby nods her head. “Well, I found a photo there. It was taken when my mother was about twenty-one. She was wi
th a man she used to date before my father and they both looked so happy together, like they were head over heels.” Abby is staring at me wide-eyed.
“What happened?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. My aunt wouldn’t tell me. She just said that my mother’s family didn’t approve of him. So you see, she had a Jackson but chose to marry a Greg. I can’t throw away that information. I can’t ask her why; I can only know that she made that choice. Maybe she would want me to marry Greg, too—she probably would, but at least I could have had a conversation with her about it. I can’t do that with my brothers. They still treat me like a child. It may sound like it’s not a big deal, but knowing that my mother chose my father is one of the things that’s holding me back from writing off my family as crazy and running away with Jackson.”
“Oh, Madeline. You have no idea what made her do that. Maybe the boyfriend broke it off with her. Maybe she regretted her decision every day. Please—I beg you, don’t make a decision so life-changing based on some timeline your mother lived when you don’t know the reason behind those events.” She leans in to hug me and I wrap my arms around her.
“I love you, Abby. For what it’s worth I hope Kyle figures things out. I don’t want to see you miss out on a lifetime of loving him because he can’t think outside the box.” She chuckles into my neck and lets me go.
“What a mess we are! My knight in shining armor can’t figure out where to build the damn castle and yours doesn’t stand a chance against your family’s drawbridge. You know how much I love my family, but Kyle is my family, too. My family is playing a role in my heartbreak, but only because I would miss them. They don’t get to decide who I love, Madeline. If you choose Jackson, your family will either learn to accept it, or suffer the loss of the sister and the daughter they love. At the end of the day, when you lie down to sleep at night, whose arms do you want to be wrapped in?” I don’t need to answer because she already knows.