“I’m afraid I do, Mrs. Somers, but thanks for dinner. It was great.”
“At least let me cut you a piece of pie to take home with you.”
“Thanks, but I really need to get going.”
Ron stood as well. “Let me walk you out, son.”
“Thanks again for dinner, Mrs. Somers,” Jackson said. “It was good to see everyone again.”
Jillian’s heart sank as she watched Jackson shuffle out of the dining room without so much as a backward glance in her direction. Maybe she wasn’t going to get that Ferris wheel ride after all.
Chapter Seven
“Oh, man, this is so good,” Shelby said around a mouthful of pie.
Jillian shook her head. “You are the only person I know who eats apple pie for breakfast.”
“Have you had this stuff?” Shelby sounded affronted.
Jillian didn’t need to answer. Shelby knew she’d had Dottie’s fresh baked apple pie before, and her sister was right to worship the pie. The crust was always flaky and buttery and the apple filling inside had the faintest hint of cinnamon. Still, as much as she liked Dottie’s pie, Jillian couldn’t bring herself to have it for breakfast.
Shelby took a drink of coffee and followed it with a satisfied sigh. “You know what the best part of the festival is?”
“What?”
“Being able to take three days off of work and knowing no one’s going to complain because practically everyone is doing it.”
Jillian nodded her agreement. Teaching piano out of her home gave her the freedom to set her own hours, but teaching kids meant working around their school schedules. That sometimes meant later evenings and the occasional weekend.
Taking a few days off for the festival meant she would have the chance to recharge and have fun doing it, starting with breakfast with her sister at Dottie’s Diner. It seemed everyone had the same idea. Nearly every table in the place was full, including the table where Walt Wilder sat with the other retirees. Though Vince had joined his father, Jackson wasn’t with them.
Shelby followed her line of sight. “I wonder where Jackson is.”
“Who knows?” Jillian tried to pretend the answer didn’t matter to her.
“Speaking of Jackson, why do you think he took off so fast last night?”
“Oh, well, that’s probably because I maybe, might have, you know, kissed him.”
Shelby sputtered on her coffee. “I’m sorry. Did you just say you kissed Jackson?”
Jillian glanced at the table where Walt and Vince sat, but neither man was paying attention to them.
“When did this happen? How did this happen? I need details,” Shelby demanded.
“Last night. You and Garrett were already in the dining room and Mom and Dad were still in the kitchen,” Jillian answered. “Jackson and I were about to go into the dining room, and it just kind of happened.”
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
“It explains how and when.”
“What about why?”
“You didn’t ask that.”
“I’m asking you now.”
“I think I just got overwhelmed with nostalgia or something.”
Shelby raised her eyebrows. “Nostalgia?”
“That song reminded me of something sweet Jackson said to me once, and I got carried away,” Jillian explained. “It’s not like it matters anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s obvious he doesn’t want a repeat performance considering his disappearing act.”
“Maybe he just needs time to realize how much he still loves you.”
“You’ve been reading too many romance novels.” Jillian glanced at her watch. “We should probably get going. We’re supposed to meet Coach Cooper at the kissing booth in five minutes.”
Shelby took one last swig of her coffee before they gathered their things and slid into their coats. Since it was her turn to treat, Jillian took the check to the register.
“I can’t wait to see what the kids did with the booth,” Jillian said as they stepped outside.
“Me too, that thing was due for an update,” Shelby agreed and then frowned. “Oh, shoot. I forgot to leave a tip.”
“It’s fine. I left enough for both of us.”
“It’s probably not enough to express how much I love that pie. I’ll be right back.”
The tip was twenty percent. More than enough to express Shelby’s unnatural appreciation for Dottie’s pie, but Jillian knew better than to argue with her sister.
As she waited outside the diner, Jillian smiled at the decorations hanging in the town square. There was no mistaking it was almost Halloween with the amount of black and orange that graced the square.
When the door to the diner opened behind her, Jillian turned, expecting to see her sister. Instead, a young couple already dressed in costume held hands as they exited.
Peering through the glass front, Jillian saw that her sister had been waylaid by the old timers’ table. Whatever they were talking about must have been funny since everyone was laughing.
Jillian tapped her watch when she managed to catch her sister’s gaze. Since Coach Cooper had been kind enough to meet her during his free period, Jillian didn’t want to keep him waiting.
“Sorry,” Shelby said when she came out of the diner. “You know how those old guys are when they get going.”
“What was it this time?”
“Oh, um, they wanted to ask me some question about the Huskers football team.”
“What was it?”
“I don’t remember. You know football’s not my thing. Honestly, I don’t see how you can tolerate it.”
If it wasn’t for Jackson, Jillian probably wouldn’t care about football. When they were kids, before he’d decided he’d follow in his dad and grandpa’s footsteps and become a plumber, he used to talk about how he was going to be a quarterback for the Huskers. At ten years old, Jackson already had everything planned out.
Jillian smiled as she remembered that conversation.
They stood in Jackson’s backyard tossing an old football back and forth. Jackson could make the ball do a perfect spiral every time and he’d taught Jillian how to do it.
“You’re getting good at that, Jill.’
Jillian preened at the praise.
‘I’m gonna go to the University of Nebraska and play quarterback you know.’
‘You think so?’
‘I know so, and you’re coming with me.’
‘So, I can watch your games?’
‘Well, yeah, and so you can take music classes. That’s what you’re gonna do while I’m making Huskers football history.’
Jillian laughed. ‘You have to take classes too, Jack.’
Jackson tossed the football back to her. ‘I will, but I’m gonna take easy ones since I won’t really need ’em.’
‘Why won’t you need them?’
‘After we’re done with college, we’re either gonna live off all the money I make from the NFL or all the money you make playing piano all over the world like your mom did.’
‘You think we’ll be friends after college?’
Jackson’s expression turned serious. ‘We’re gonna be friends forever, Jill,’ he said, resuming his grin as he let the ball sail in her direction. ‘You’re never getting rid of me.’
Jillian’s heart filled with warmth as she opened her arms to catch the ball. Being friends forever sounded like the best idea in the world.
“Jill!”
Shelby’s sharp tone shook Jillian from her memories.
“Sorry, I spaced out for a second,” Jillian said, forcing a smile.
Shelby laughed. “Thinking about a tall, dark and handsome plumber?”
When wasn’t she thinking about Jackson? In the last week, the man had taken up permanent residence in the forefront of her thoughts. That kiss hadn’t helped matters, but she wasn’t ready to admit that to her sister.
“Come on,” Jillian said, linking
arms with Shelby. “Let’s go see what Coach Cooper’s kids did with the kissing booth.”
Thoughts of Jackson could wait. Jillian wasn’t about to let him ruin the festival for her.
Jackson was just finishing up breakfast when the front door banged open.
His father offered him a smile when he entered the kitchen. “Well, look who decided to join the land of the living.”
“What good is a day off if you can’t enjoy it by sleeping in?”
“I hear that.”
“Where’s Gramps?”
“Still back at the diner with Joe and the gang,” Vince answered. “They were going on about the Huskers, and it didn’t look like they were going to stop anytime soon so I made my escape.”
Smiling, Jackson shook his head. Ever since his grandpa had retired, he’d spent more mornings than not sitting at the diner with Joe and the other old timers shooting the shit about everything from their days in the war to the Huskers.
It was a wonder they didn’t run out of things to say, but he figured maybe their combined life experiences made for plenty of conversations. Conversations that more often than not led to some heated discussions, especially when his grandpa was involved.
If Gramps thought he was right about something, Lord help the man that had the audacity to disagree with him. Funny thing was that no matter how much they argued, those guys were thick as thieves. If one needed something, the others were there without question.
Sometimes, he wondered if he would ever be one of those guys, frittering away his mornings at the diner with his buddies. Then he remembered that he didn’t have any close friends. Jackson was friendly with everyone, but he didn’t have a best friend; not anymore.
Growing up, Jill had been his best friend. That had been more than enough, even if the guys in school hadn’t understood. In the third grade, Jackson had almost come to blows with a couple of the guys in Miss Sherwood’s class who didn’t understand why he’d want to be friends with a girl.
They were on the playground at recess. Jackson was playing foursquare with Jill and two other girls.
Jackson was just about to launch the ball to Jill when Skeeter Harris came stomping over, followed by a group of his friends.
Skeeter’s real name was Charlie, but he’d been christened with the nickname Skeeter on account of the summer he’d been covered in mosquito bites. Mosquito bites that he hadn’t been able to resist scratching which had turned them into some really nasty looking sores.
‘Why do you always hang out with her?’ Skeeter jerked his head toward Jill.
‘Why do you care?’ Jackson asked.
‘She’s a girl,’ Skeeter said as if that explained everything.
‘Yeah, so?’ Jackson said while Jillian and her friends glared at Skeeter and his friends.
‘So, everyone knows girls aren’t good for anything but playing with dolls and crying all the time.’
Even at the age of eight, Jackson was smart enough to know that was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard.
Skeeter sneered at him. ‘Guess that means you like playing with dolls.’
Dropping the ball, Jackson clenched his fists. ‘I don’t play with dolls and neither does Jill.’
‘So, y’all play house all the time then?’ Skeeter taunted.
Jackson grimaced because they had sometimes played house, and he hadn’t minded it one bit. Jillian would always pretend to be his wife and take care of him by making dinner and stuff, and he’d pretend he was fixing things around the house.
‘How come you know so much about what girls do anyway, Skeeter?’ Jillian asked. ‘You wish you were one or something?’
Jackson laughed along with everyone else.
‘You shut the hell up, or I’ll punch your ugly face,’ Skeeter snarled and stepped closer to Jill.
Jackson’s expression sobered and he gave Skeeter a deadly glare. ‘No, you won’t.’
Jillian marched up to stand beside Jackson. ‘Go ahead and try,’ she snapped, staring down Skeeter. ‘I’m not afraid of you. I’ll kick your ass and then the whole school will be making fun of you for getting beat up by a girl.’
The two of them stood staring at each for a few tense seconds with Jackson keeping his eyes on Skeeter. If Skeeter thought he was punching Jill with Jackson standing right there, he had another thing coming.
Finally, Skeeter took a step back. ‘You’re lucky you’re a girl.’
Jillian rolled her eyes as he turned and sauntered away with his friends on his heels. Then she turned to look at Jackson. ‘I could have taken him, you know.’
Jackson grinned. ‘Yeah, I know.’
And he did too. Sometimes when they wrestled in the backyard, she bested him and managed to pin him beneath her. Jillian was a strong little thing, but that didn’t mean he was going to stand there and let someone try to hurt her.
“You could have told me.”
Jackson frowned, having missed whatever his father said. “What?”
“You could have told me you had dinner at Ron and Sophia’s house last night,” Vince explained, and Jackson’s frown deepened.
“How’d you find out about that?”
“Does it matter?”
“It wasn’t a big deal.” Jackson shrugged. “I ran in to Mr. and Mrs. Somers the other night at Scott’s Sweets and Mrs. Somers asked me to come to dinner.”
Jackson didn’t add that he’d only gone because he couldn’t come up with a quick enough reason to say no. That would have opened up a whole new line of questioning. The last thing he needed when he wasn’t too keen on answering the current line of questioning.
“Are you seeing Jillian?” Vince asked.
Jackson scowled. “What? No.”
“Do you want to be?”
Yes. “No, it was just dinner for Christ’s sake. I think I’m gonna go for a run.”
Going for a run was the last thing he wanted to do after indulging in such a greasy breakfast, but it was the easiest way to avoid dealing with his nosy dad.
The kissing booth looked better than Jillian expected. The kids had gone all out, replacing all the old, worn out boards and even adding shelving underneath the counter. As promised, the art students had also painted the structure. Leaves and pumpkins and even witches and ghosts had been painted over a rich, brown background.
“This looks amazing, Coach Cooper,” Jillian gushed. “The kids did such a great job.”
Neil smiled. “Thanks, and you don’t have to call me Coach Cooper. You’re not in high school anymore.”
Jillian couldn’t help it. Growing up, her parents had drilled respect for their elders into her and Shelby. Coach Neil Cooper wasn’t an elder in the truest sense of the word. Though she didn’t know for certain, she didn’t think he was even fifty years old yet. Still, the fact that he’d been a teacher when she went to the high school meant she had a hard time thinking of him as anything other than Coach Cooper.
“It does look really good, but there’s just one problem,” Shelby said, and both Neil and Jillian frowned at her. “This booth isn’t used for just the Fall Festival, but it’s covered in Halloween stuff.”
Neil resumed his smile. “That won’t be a problem. The art students are going to repaint it each festival for a class project.”
Shelby nodded. “Okay, that makes sense.”
“That’s an awesome idea,” Jillian said. “As good as this thing looks I’ll bet we sell tons of candy apples and hot cider at the Monster Mash.”
“No doubt,” Neil agreed.
“And if the kids do just as good a job for the June festival, I’ll bet the guys will rake in the money with an actual kissing booth,” Shelby added.
It wouldn’t matter what the kissing booth looked like. The men of Sapphire Falls would bring in big money with or without it. They always had.
Even before Jillian was really interested in the opposite sex, she could appreciate the good looks of the guys behind the kissing booth. The older she’d gotten, the more
convinced she was that one day Jackson would be one of those guys.
‘The line at the kissing booth sure is long,’ Jillian said.
‘I don’t see why when the softball game is about to start,’ Jackson said, and Jillian smiled.
Nothing was more important to Jack than sports, probably not even her and they were best friends.
‘You say that now, but I’ll bet you’ll be doing the kissing booth when you grow up,’ Jillian said.
Jackson looked aghast. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘Why not? You’re like the perfect guy for something like that.’
‘Stop messing around.’
‘I’m not messing around, Jack. You’re just like those guys,’ Jillian insisted. ‘You’re good at sports so you’ll probably get muscles when you’re grown up, and you’re already cute so I’ll bet lots of girls will want to kiss you.’
Jackson’s face and ears were a bright shade of red as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. ‘Even if all that’s true, I’m never doin’ it.’
Ignoring his embarrassment, she frowned. ‘How come?’
‘That’s not who I am.’
‘I don’t get what you mean.’
‘I’m not the kind of guy that’s gonna want a bunch of girls slobbering all over me just because they think I’m cute or whatever,’ Jackson said, his face growing a darker shade of red. ‘When a girl kisses me, I want it to be because she likes me for who I am, not what I look like, and I sure as hell don’t need her to pay to kiss me. I’ll just do it for free.’
Jillian couldn’t stop smiling. She’d always thought Jackson was one of the smartest guys she knew. For him to be thinking something like that when they were just thirteen years old proved she was right.
Hopefully, she was the girl he wanted kissing him one day.
“If we’re all good here, I think I’ll take off.” Neil’s voice cut into Jillian’s thoughts. “I want to grab a cup of coffee from Dottie’s before I head back to the school.”
“You should get a slice of apple pie too,” Shelby said, and Jillian shook her head.
“Tell the kids thanks for all their hard work,” Jillian said.
“I will, and I’ll be sure to tell them they have you to thank for their extra credit,” Neil said and then laughed. “I suppose I’ll see you girls at the Bennett Farm later.”
Sapphire Falls: Going for Wilder (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 7