“Oh, I couldn’t impose on you.” Jake shifts uncomfortably in his chair, and I’m glad this conversation isn’t only bothering me.
“It’s no imposition. You are my little Pumpkin’s dad, after all. We would love to have you.”
His face turns a muted shade of pink, almost as though he’s embarrassed. Nothing in the world could possibly embarrass Jake, so I’m sure it’s my imagination.
“That’s a nice offer, and I thank you, but I should really go check on my dad.”
“But maybe you can come back tomorrow?” Dad presses. “A couple of the steps on the back deck are a little wobbly.”
“Dad!”
"Sorry, I just thought since he’s an expert…”
Jake actually laughs as he shakes his head. “Sure, Mr. Jennings. I’ll come back around tomorrow and take a look at your steps.”
Apparently that signals the end of the conversation, because Jake rises from the table and my dad decides to stand beside him. He claps Jake on the back like he’s a respectable person, and not the jerk who impregnated me and then wouldn’t speak to me for months. It’s almost grotesque.
“Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Jennings.”
“You’re welcome, and feel free to call me Crystal.”
Jake smiles as he tilts Bailey’s chin up with his finger and winks at her. “See ya tomorrow, Bailey.”
“Bye, Jay.”
He and Dad disappear around the corner, and I can’t help but stare stupefied at my mother.
“He seems like a nice young man.”
“Well, he isn’t,” I whisper, checking to make sure Bailey can’t hear me. “Stop treating him like he’s normal.”
“Alexis.” There it is. That voice that used to stop me in my tracks as a kid. Subtle, soul-crushing disappointment. “I figured Bailey would be calling him by something other than his given name by now.”
“He doesn’t deserve it,” I state, knowing I’m going to get a look but not particularly caring.
“Well, I like him.”
You like everybody, I want to say, but I don’t dare. I’m not really one for sassing my mother, even at the age of twenty-five.
Spending so much time with Jake today made repressed memories of that night come flooding back to my mind. I haven’t allowed myself to think about it for ages, because it makes me feel stupid and dirty and damaged, but that goes with the territory when it comes to Jake, I suppose.
I can’t figure out what he meant about a friend introducing us, because that didn’t happen.
Senior year of college, spring break, and I was hanging out on the front porch with Sadie and Heather. It was chilly enough that I was sporting a long sleeve T-shirt, but Heather had on tight black shorts and was painting her toenails bright pink.
“You’ll never guess who I saw at the gas station this morning,” Heather stated.
“Who?” I wondered with very little interest. Most of Heather’s “guess who’s” didn’t interest me.
“Cody Hewitt.”
Instantly I sat up a little straighter on the porch swing. Sure, Cody had broken my heart a few years before, but that didn’t change my feelings for him. I doubted I would ever truly stop loving Cody.
“Don’t you even want to know what he said to me?” Heather added, giving me a little smirk.
Frankly, I was afraid she would tell me he asked her out. That would be a very Heather thing to inject into the situation.
“Sure, what did he say?”
“He said he’s going to be at a party tonight at the Tanner place and he really wants to see you. Said he doesn’t want to leave town without seeing you.”
“You’re pulling my chain.”
“Nope. Scout’s honor. He said he would be hurt if you didn’t show up.”
“Sadie?”
My friend recognized my plea without having to express anything further.
“No, Alexis. I’m not going to be party to that. That jerk broke your heart.”
“But he was just a kid,” I explained, desperate for some way to cover his mistakes. “Things are different now.”
“I’ll go with ya.” Heather shrugged her shoulders as though it was nothing, and my heart stuck in my chest.
That should have been enough to tell me to let sleeping dogs lie. If Heather was offering to do something with me, it probably wasn’t a good idea.
I order my brain to stop thinking about it as I turn in the bed and wrap my arm around Bailey. The gentle sound of her breathing calms my mind momentarily, and I inhale the scent of her strawberry body wash. Mom had given her a bath while I sat on the couch with my hands wrapped around a mug of cocoa, trying not to listen to the haunting words of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” on the radio. That song always makes me feel churned up inside.
After her bath, I sat at the end of the bed and combed her silky, baby-fine hair as she stared in the mirror against the wall. The same mirror that has been in this bedroom for as long as I can remember. I gazed at myself in it when I was Bailey’s age, most likely. I watched myself in it that night, too—entirely too much makeup on, my hair curled into bouncy waves around my face, white tank top that I fought the urge to pull up against my neck, and those jeans of Heather’s that seemed to be painted onto my thighs.
And then Heather started getting a migraine, at first just the bright lights of the bathroom bothering her, but soon she was on the bed with a pillow pulled over her head and her fists against her ears to block out the noise. I should stay and make sure she was okay, right? Mom and Dad were at some sort of revival meeting a couple counties over. She needed me.
Only she insisted she didn’t. It was my one chance with Cody, she said. I shouldn’t screw it up on account of her.
But how did I even know if Cody had changed his mind? What if things were still the same as they were before?
I’ll never forget the way Heather’s groaning voice sounded under that pillow.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Alex. You’re such a darn prude. Just give the man what he wants, and you’ll get what you want. It ain’t that complicated.”
Chapter Fifteen
Alexis
Heather takes a big swig of her bottled water before she props her feet on Lionel, the bottom of her fuzzy boots resting against his jeans. Can’t say that I would particularly be pleased with her action, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
I’m not sure what week Lionel is on. Since she had what’s-his-name at Thanksgiving, I’m fairly certain his longevity can’t be over a month. Heather’s not normally a two-timer, at least as far as I know. Judging by his level of interest, I’d say he’s still at week two, and she hasn’t given him all the goods. Either that or he’s just that into her.
“Lionel, have you seen that huge Christmas tree in the window at Heather’s work?”
Full disclosure—I have no idea whether there’s a huge Christmas tree at the drug store. There usually is, so I’m just making an educated guess.
“Nah,” he says, glancing at Heather. “Where do you work, babe?”
Definitely week two.
“Jay’s here,” Bailey announces, taking her attention away from the Grinch on TV long enough to look out the living room window. Sure enough, his truck is in the driveway and he’s walking across the yard with Dad, headed to the back of the house for the farce of looking at the steps. Nothing’s wrong with them. Why Dad felt he needed an excuse to get Jake back over here is beyond me.
Heather hops up from the couch and peers out the window, practically stepping on Lionel. He looks slightly annoyed, but uses the opportunity to take a glimpse of her backside. I don’t know where she locates all these winners, but this guy’s a doozy.
“Holy whiskers, Alex, he’s fine. I’m a little jealous.” Heather turns herself toward me, raising her eyebrows suggestively. She realizes a little too late that she’s still perched next to the man of the month. “Oh, no offense, Lionel.”
It’s been purely a strategic decision never to allow Heather and Ja
ke in the same room up to this point. Sadie’s met him twice when I was dropping off Bailey, simply because I didn’t want to go alone. Taking Jake’s blatant flirtation is bad enough on a normal day, but I don’t want to see it employed on my sister. Or vice versa.
“Time to go,” Lionel announces, rising from the couch. “We’re supposed to be at my grandma’s, remember?”
“Shoot,” Heather whispers, craning her neck to try to see around the kitchen island to the back door. “I always miss the fun.”
Pretty sure Heather never misses the fun, actually.
The two of them make a noisy exit as Heather yells through the house to Dad that she’s leaving, but he ignores her. Mom throws her a hasty “see you” from the kitchen, and then they’re gone. Part of me wishes I could have escaped with them, as uncomfortable as it would have been.
Jake’s wearing a forest green button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows and a pair of Levi’s that fits him like a glove, and I’m pretty sure that’s not the standard outfit for fixing the steps. It’s probably the best I’ve seen him look, and I can’t help but be a little miffed. Is he trying to butter my parents up for something? What could he possibly want from them?
Thankfully, Dad’s having a more leisurely conversation with him tonight. Do you like sports? How about that new superhero movie? You much of a fisherman? And Jake’s taking it all in stride, which is again forcing me to ask myself why he’s here. The whole thing is so strange.
As soon as we’re finished with dinner, Dad states that they’re going to a Christmas Eve service at church, and asks if Jake would like to join them. He politely declines, but I can tell by the look on his face exactly what he thinks of church, even if he doesn’t say it out loud. I make my own lame excuse about needing to wrap gifts, and Mom and Dad think they’re doing me a favor by agreeing to take Bailey with them. Dad winks at me to confirm that fact, like we’re in on some big secret.
Distaste for church might be the first thing Jake and I have in common.
“But we ran out of wrapping paper,” Mom blurts as they prepare to head out the door.
“I’ll run to the drug store and get some,” I tell her, not wanting her to expose my half-truth.
“But you don’t have a car.”
My arguments seem to be rapidly slipping away, and the fact is I don’t care one iota about wrapping paper. I’ll use black garbage bags if I have to.
“Don’t worry Mrs. J. I’ll drive her to the drug store. It’s the least I can do to thank you for the great meal.”
I swear, it’s like he’s that Eddie Haskell kid on Leave It to Beaver. Why can’t my parents see through this slick act?
“Thanks, Jake,” Mom says, all sweetness as she gives him a smile and picks Bailey up to carry her out the door.
I can’t bring myself to look at him, so I head to the hallway and grab my coat off a peg on the wall. When I return to the living room, he’s standing by the door, studying his surroundings. Studying my life.
“Ready,” I announce, thinking how ridiculous we’ll look, him appearing like he’s on a hot date and me wearing yoga pants and a big black puffer coat. That pretty much tells the entire story of our relationship, though, so it’s fitting.
Part of me is slightly afraid that he might try to open the door for me, so I make sure I beat him to the truck and make it a nonissue. His politeness is not wearing well on me, since keeping up a certain level of disdain for him is essential in maintaining the status quo.
“You don’t like church,” he states as he closes his door and starts the engine. “It’s just funny, seeing how your dad used to be a pastor and everything.”
“Church doesn’t like me.” That sounds ugly and abrupt, and way too personal to be sharing with Jake. “How do you know that about my dad?”
“Told me earlier while we were outside.”
Sure, because suddenly they’re best friends.
My nerves direct me to force my gaze out the passenger window, ignoring the fact that we’re alone. We haven’t been alone in a long time. Never would have been alone if it hadn’t been for Cody.
I should have never gone to that party without Heather.
And why haven’t I ever gotten angry enough about the whole situation? Cody turned out to be nothing but a lying, backstabbing jerk. Smoothly making his way up to me at the party, looking mostly like the same old Cody, but with a new manly air about him. Dancing with me, holding me close, and pouring me drinks. Putting his lips against my neck by my ear and telling me that he’d be right back. Just wait for me, Alexis. Wait for me. As if I hadn’t been doing that for as long as I could remember anyway.
But then there he was outside, getting into his truck with Mindy, driving away into the night. And I was left standing there alone, the unfamiliar booze in my system kicking into overdrive and clouding my senses. Perfect timing for Jake to step up to me, looking handsome and exciting, two drinks in his hand. Naturally I took one and let him call me gorgeous.
“You think the drug store will still be open?”
For a second I feel unbelievably self-conscious, as though Jake can see my memories playing out in the cab of the truck. But then I tell myself that he’s not a mind reader and force a deep breath into my lungs.
“Heather said they’d be open until nine.”
That’s as far as the conversation goes before the silence envelops us again, so he flips the radio on, which settles on some Christmas cheer. Probably hard-pressed to find anything else playing on Christmas Eve.
The heater vents are pointed in such a direction that they’re blowing the scent of his cologne toward me, and the smell suddenly fills my mind with all sorts of pictures I don’t want to see. Kissing on the couch in the corner of a stranger’s living room. Stumbling against the wall in the hallway upstairs. Jake’s truck keys poking into my hip through the pocket of his jeans as he pressed against me on the bed. Waking up with sudden nausea, and finding the bathroom in the unfamiliar house just in time. The knowledge that someone was asleep in the bathtub next to where I was retching. Someone I didn’t recognize. Trying to retrace my steps to the correct bedroom, and only knowing I was in the correct place because I recognized Heather’s jeans on the floor. The entirety of Jake’s form from behind where he was sprawled on top of the comforter. My head pounding in a way that probably rivaled Heather’s migraine from earlier in the evening.
All I could think to do was get out of there as fast as possible and try to forget it ever happened. I didn’t realize I had my tank top on backwards until I reached my car. I had been too busy using Jake’s cell phone to call my own, so I could try to figure out who he was after I left. Wasn’t it weird that I didn’t know his name? I was certain Heather couldn’t even boast that mistake.
But I definitely couldn’t go home. That’s why I wound up in Sadie’s driveway at five o’clock in the morning, and she found me at a little past nine, passed out over the steering wheel of my car, completely unaware that I had altered my life for the rest of eternity.
“This the right place?”
Jake’s voice startles me, and I flinch a little as I glance over at him. I’m sure he has no recollection of our time together. He was drunk enough to pass out, and I’m just one in a string of endless women.
“Yeah, that’s it.”
I bolt from the truck as soon as he puts it in park, wanting to put as much distance between us as possible. Once I get inside the store, though, I just need a minute to avoid him. The Christmas aisle is near the middle, but I move around the perimeter of the store, peeking toward the door to make sure he’s not following me. The instant I see his head pop through the entrance, I spin into the closest aisle, stepping into a Tennessee Titans shirt stretched across a firm chest. My hand jerks away from the poor guy’s pectoral muscle as I take a step backwards.
“I’m so sorry,” I mutter, bringing my eyes up to his face. Probably a mistake, because he’s got one of those megawatt smiles that melts girls’ brains. And a beauti
ful woman on his arm. And a ring on his finger. Why are you even looking at that? “Just searching for wrapping paper…and there it is, right in front of my face. Sorry again.”
“Find it?” Jake asks as he steps around the opposite corner, halting next to me as though the sight of Santa wrapping paper is an affront to him. Except he’s not looking at Santa wrapping paper. He’s staring at the man wall I stumbled into.
“Jake,” the guy says, surprise evident in his voice. I glance between them, sensing there is something bigger happening than Christmas wrapping.
“Parker,” Jake acknowledges with an uncomfortable nod. “How’s it going, man?”
“Why didn’t you tell us you were back in town?” He steps forward and takes Jake’s hand, pulling him into one of those odd man-hugs that’s kind of one arm, half the back, like they can’t commit all the way. As though taking a full, open hug would be too touchy-feely.
“It was a spur of the moment thing,” Jake explains, glancing at me. “Sorry, I have no manners. This is Alexis. And this is Cole Parker and his wife, Camdyn.”
“Bailey’s mom,” Camdyn says, reaching for my hand. “It’s really nice to meet you. You have such a beautiful daughter. She’s not with you?”
“She’s with my parents,” I tell her, trying to assess her statement, unable to come up with one good reason why a pretty blonde-haired stranger knows my kid.
“Jake and I are good friends,” Cole adds. “I still can’t believe you moved to Louisville. Did you get the job?”
“Yeah, I got it. Thanks for that, by the way.”
If they’re such good friends, his presence sure makes Jake uncomfortable. For the guy who just sat through a second dinner with my parents without any hesitation, I’d say that takes something pretty big.
“I’m glad things are going good for you,” Cole says to Jake. “Your dad okay?”
“Sure, he’s good. We probably better hurry, right Alexis? She’s got a lot of stuff to do tonight.”
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