She smiled. “Did I hear from your aunt that you got your master’s in creative writing and you’re teaching college courses now?”
“It’s true.” I didn’t know that my aunt had contact with her, or that Mrs. Bonner had cared enough to keep tabs on me. I guessed it was just me who had been shutting the world out.
“We’re proud of you.” I couldn’t tell if it was an obligatory statement.
I heard the door open and close, and then a moment later, a still-angelic Jessie came into the kitchen. “Oh my god, Emi!” She screamed. I stood and she was in my arms a moment later.
“You’re so tall! Wow, look at you.” She was at least five seven, and several inches taller than me.
We hugged for a long time. However short-lived my time there was, I had gained something so precious: a little sister.
“I haven’t been good about keeping in touch,” I told her. “But that’s gonna change.”
“Emi, oh my gosh, you have to see my book collection.” She pulled me upstairs to the bedroom that used to be mine on the third floor. One entire wall was covered in bookshelves filled with books.
“This is amazing,” I said.
“I know, right?”
She began telling me about all of her favorite stories, and she talked about the characters like they were real.
“Jessie, this is wonderful. You’re a true bookworm.”
She laughed. “I know, Mom’s always telling me that.”
I felt my throat tighten. It made me emotional to know that Jessie had gotten to that place with the Bonners. I knew I had made the right choice pleading for Jessie to stay.
“They adopted me, didn’t you know? Like, officially.” She paused and looked closely at my face. “Are you crying, Emi? Why?”
“I’m just happy for you, I guess. What happened to the boys?”
“They’re still here too. Almost out of high school now. Things changed a lot after you left. Mom warmed up and stopped taking in new kids. She adopted all of us. I think she regretted not adopting you.” I could tell Jessie genuinely believed that, though I didn’t think it was true.
“My time here was important, but it was good for me to be with my aunts.”
I plopped down on her bed and looked out the window. The room felt the same, and not much had changed. She sat next to me and took my hand in hers. “Whatever happened to Jase?”
“Jessie, Jessie, Jessie, you were always so curious. I like that about you.” I swayed into her, knocking my shoulder against hers playfully. “I’m with someone else now. A man named Trevor, but Jase is well.” That might have been a lie. I mean, he was doing well, but could I really say he was well after the stunt he had pulled the night before?
“Guess what? I have a boyfriend now.” Her face flushed.
“That’s great, Jessie!”
“Mom wouldn’t let me date in high school, but she’s lightened up a lot since then. I mean, I’m in college now—she kind of has to.” She shrugged. “So tell me, Emi, what is Trevor like? I bet he’s handsome! Tell me about him.”
“He’s tall, good-looking, muscular . . .” I made a silly face.
“What’s he like, though?” She was always wise beyond her years.
I struggled to describe him. “He’s nice . . . caring.”
“Is he funny and smart like Jase?”
“Yes,” I lied. Trevor could be a lot of fun, but he wasn’t clever. He had qualities that other women would kill for . . . just not me. How could I have known that all along and still have stayed with him?
“So, how long are you staying in Ohio?” she asked.
“Just until tomorrow, or the next day, and then it’s back to California. I still have a lot to do.” I stood up. “I have to get going soon.”
She hugged me. “Well, I’m glad you came by. Let’s keep in touch, Emi.”
“I will,” I said, and I meant it.
I CHECKED INTO a room at the DoubleTree in New Clayton. It was a surprisingly clean, newly renovated standard room with one king-sized bed and a flat-screen TV. I called Trevor.
“Hello!” he yelled over loud crowd noise in the background.
“Hey!” I yelled back cheerily.
“The game’s on, babe!”
“You told me to keep in touch.”
“What?!”
“I said, you told me to call you!”
“You’re breaking up, can I call you after the game?”
“Okay,” I said, and then hung up.
I texted Jase.
Me: How are you feeling?
Jase: Like I got hit by a truck. You?
Me: I’m okay. I have a chapter left of the book. It’s really good, Jase. Sad, though. I just went to see Jessie and the Bonners.
Jase: That’s great.
I thought that was an interesting response. Seconds went by.
Jase: How do you feel about it?
Me: Relieved.
Jase: I’m happy for you.
Me: Did you know?
Jase: Know what?
Me: That I needed this?
Jase: Haven’t you learned anything about authorial intention, Miss MFA?
Me: So it was intentional?
Jase: It always is.
Me: But how did you know I would read it?
Jase: Maybe I nudged destiny’s arm a little. Would you be mad?
I didn’t answer. Instead, I called Cara. “Hello.”
“Cara . . .”
“Hey, Emi! How’s your trip?”
“Good. I have a question for you. How did you hear about Jase’s book?”
“Hmm. Well, I had heard of it since it was already a bestseller, then I think I read a review in that literary magazine that came in the mail. Or maybe it was in my box at work? I can’t remember.”
“I remember that part. I think the magazine is on my nightstand, actually. Will you do me a favor and go look and see who it’s addressed to?”
“Hold on.”
A moment later, she was back. “I couldn’t find the label. It was definitely in my box, now that I think about it.”
“Okay, thanks for checking.” He had known it would get to me that way. Man, he was patient.
I hung up with Cara and attempted to write in my journal, but nothing came to me. I worked on my story, outlining and jotting down notes.
I knew I had to address things with Trevor, so I tried dialing him again, but he didn’t answer. I dozed off, exhausted, and was startled awake by the sound of forceful knocking on the door. I pulled back the blackout curtains and realized it was the next day. Almost noon.
“Hold on!”
I ran around the dark room, flipping on lights while I looked for my sweatshirt. I had been wearing yoga pants and a T-shirt with no bra, so I needed something to throw on. I dressed quickly and sloppily and then opened the door.
“Sleeping the day away, Princess?” Jase said, his voice low and smooth.
I blinked him into focus. He was wearing jeans, lime-green Wayfarer sunglasses, and Chucks with a black T-shirt. It was the way I remembered him: pre-suit Jase, pre-author Jase.
Through a yawn, I said, “I don’t know what happened. I zonked out.”
“Are you gonna invite me in?” He moved his sunglasses to the top of his head.
“Come in.” I crossed my arms over my braless chest and scanned the room for anything that could cause embarrassment. There was a half-eaten turkey sandwich and French fries sitting on the small table near the TV. Jase didn’t bat an eye at it. The room smelled like stale food and bad breath.
He plopped down on the bed. “What have you been doing?”
“Do you mind if I go freshen up for a sec?”
“Go ahead.” At that moment he spotted his book on the floor next to my backpack. He arched his eyebrows. “Well?”
I shook my head.
“Seriously, when did you become such a slow reader? You would have breezed through it when you were twelve.”
“Yeah, but I’m
reading every word,” I said as I went into the bathroom. “I’ll be right out.”
I threw on a bra, brushed my teeth, and tried to spin my massive mane into a cute bun on the top of my head.
When I walked out of the bathroom toward the bed, Jase carelessly tossed the book aside, wrapped his arm around the backs of my legs, and pulled me onto his lap.
“Jase!” I shouted.
Our faces were inches apart. He smelled like mint and men’s body wash.
“Why didn’t you stay the other night? Why’d you make me drive all the way to New Clayton to see you?” he asked.
“You were wasted, I have a boyfriend, and I had my own hotel room in Nashville that night. Plus, I didn’t make you come here.” I rolled my eyes at him and he pinched my butt. “Ouch!”
“Answer me. Why didn’t you stay? We’re just friends, remember?” My heart was speeding up. “Don’t tell me it’s just because of Taylor.”
“Trevor.”
“Whatever.”
“Why did you want me to stay?” I said. “You basically passed out while I was taking your clothes off.”
“I would never!” He opened his eyes really wide.
“You did, it’s true!” I said accusingly.
He smiled and then his hand moved up to the back of my neck and then over my shoulder and up to my mouth, where he ran his thumb over my bottom lip. His eyes were fixed on my mouth. “I loved kissing you. I haven’t forgotten what it feels like.”
I sucked in breath. “Jase . . .”
He stood abruptly and gently set me on the floor. “Get your shoes on. I want to take you somewhere.”
“Okay.”
Once we were in the parking lot, he opened the passenger door to a black Mercedes SUV. “It’s a rental,” he answered my unspoken question.
“That’s my rental.” I pointed to the jelly bean.
“Really?” he scowled. “That doesn’t look safe.”
“It’s fine. Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
We drove out of New Clayton. After a while, I realized we were headed toward Neeble, and I wondered if he was taking me to the road.
In the town center, he made a turn in the opposite direction. He was quiet and then he reached over and took my hand in his and held it over the console between us.
“Em, do you remember how badly we wanted to go to the Neeble pool?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Remember how I promised I would take you?”
I got excited. “Yes,” I squeaked.
We pulled into the parking lot of the Neeble community pool, which had been closed down since we had moved away. I felt sad for a moment, but I was happy just to be able to see what we had always dreamed of.
Jase jiggled a lock from the gate of the surrounding fence and then pulled me onto the property. There was nothing, just a few puddles of dirty water covered in leaves. A few rusted pool chairs and a dilapidated lifeguard booth that framed the near-empty hole.
“See? It’s just a hole in the ground, and now it doesn’t even have water in it.”
“Why’d you bring me here?”
“Because I swore that I would.”
“Thank you, I guess.” I walked toward him to hug him, but he reached out and braced the back of my neck and kissed me. It was sweeter than it was passionate.
I didn’t push him away. How could I? “What are you trying to show me with all this? You’re going to fill me with guilt and get me in trouble with my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend, shmoyfriend. You’ll figure it out.”
“No more kissing, okay, Jase?” I poked him in the chest.
“You liked it,” he teased.
I did. That was the problem. “Can we go to the road now?” I asked.
He nodded for a few seconds, like he couldn’t say no to me but wasn’t really sure it was a good idea. I wondered if the pain from losing his brother there was too much for him to bear.
“We don’t have to go to the creek. I just want to see the road while I’m here.”
“Okay.”
We pulled onto El Monte, and I watched the mile markers pass like I had every day growing up. On the radio, “Human Qualities” by Explosions in the Sky played as we drove toward the weeds, the dust, and the sun setting on the horizon. Neither of us spoke a word. The music told the sad story of the two kids on the dirt road with nothing but their books and each other.
As we sailed past the old egg ranch, long since abandoned, Jase turned his head, like he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. His chest rose and fell to the sound of the heartbeats through the speakers. I wanted to say something, but the silence between us was powerful. He grabbed my hand and held on tight.
Jase parked at the end of the long dirt road where the mailboxes used to be. There was nothing, just dust and the tree line in the far distance that marked the creek. “Let’s walk,” he said.
Walking hand in hand, I thought back to the bus ride and every day we spent on that road. “Whatever happened to the bus driver?”
“No clue,” he said. “She probably retired. She was a nice lady.”
“I know. I used to wish she would adopt us.”
He turned to me with a huge smile on his face. “Me too! I wanted to take all the seats out of the bus and live in it like it was a camper.”
“It would have been amazing.”
“Amazingly strange. We wanted the bus driver to adopt us so we could live in the bus with her.” He laughed. “How sad is that?”
I started laughing too.
We approached where our houses once stood, though now it was just a couple of concrete slabs, infiltrated by weeds. We walked around quietly for an hour. I let all the memories, good and bad, dance in and out of my thoughts.
Jase stood on a wood post. “I’m the king of the world!” he shouted.
King of my world, I thought.
“You’re still a dork,” I said.
“A lovable dork?”
“That remains to be seen.”
“You want to go look at the creek?” he asked.
“Isn’t that hard for you?”
“It wasn’t hard for me when I was fifteen. Why would it be hard for me now? I love it down there.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, it’s beautiful.”
“But your brother . . .”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me along. “Yeah, my brother died there, but I choose to think about all the awesome things we did there together instead of giving false power to the site of his death.”
I’d had no idea how well adjusted Jase was about his brother’s death. Maybe, during all those years, I had made things bigger in my mind in order to avoid other issues.
We sat on the little wood dock, shoulder to shoulder, swinging our legs.
“The water’s low,” I said.
“It’s almost frozen,” he added.
“I feel like I’m supposed to say something.” I didn’t look at him, but I could see out of the corner of my eye that he was looking directly at me.
“You don’t have to say anything.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t doing this for me . . .”
“Then why?”
“I just want to spend some time with you. I want you to figure out what you want,” he said.
“That’s selfless of you, Jase, like all sacrifices you’ve made. You’re a saint. But honestly, what’s all of this for? What are you trying to prove by bringing me here, and with the book?”
“I know you so well. I know what you’re doing right now. You’re trying to push me away.”
“No, I’m not,” I said.
He pulled his hand out of mine and then stood up and walked down the dock, leaving me alone. When he reached the road, he called back, “You still don’t get it.”
“What don’t I get?” I got up and hurried after him.
He turned around. “All of those things I said about Jax in the book, did you seriously think I was talking about
me? When I said, ‘Despite his life, he kept getting sweeter and sweeter . . .’ Em, I was talking about you. All of the good things were about you. I just switched it around because I needed you to remember. I’m still mesmerized by how good you are, Emiline, but completely saddened by the fact that you’re so terrible to yourself. You’re not just Emerson, you’re Jackson too. I wrote this book for you so you could see that, and I wrote this book for me so I could heal.”
“You are good, Jase. You’ve always been good,” I choked out.
We walked back down the road in silence. He took my hand and led me toward the car and opened my door. The sun had set, and the moon was full in the sky. It was one of those rare, clear nights when the moonlight was bright enough to light the road ahead. Jax and I held hands all the way back to New Clayton.
When we pulled into the parking lot of my hotel, I turned to him. “You can stay with me, but I’m still with Trevor . . .”
“I know, and you’re going to do the right thing,” he said unbitterly.
“You didn’t expect that? You just told me how good I was. I thought you knew me so well, Jase, MD, psychologist/author extraordinaire.” He grinned, and I poked him in the chest. “Yeah, I said author extraordinaire, not that your head needs any more inflating.”
“I like feisty, Em.”
All the heaviness from before seemed to slip away as he followed me out of the car and up the steps to street level. “Look.” I pointed to the 7-Eleven on the corner.
“Dinner?” he said, eyes twinkling.
“Dude, it’s on.”
We rushed down the street and skipped over to the convenience store. “Remember what we used to do?”
“Yeah, you pick out something, I pick out something, and we share?”
“Yeah, let’s do five things each.”
We were in and out in minutes. We didn’t peek at what the other person got, we just jogged back to the hotel with our bags full of junk food.
I sat on the bed and crossed my legs. Jase sat next to me. “You go first,” I said.
“Okay, are you ready for this?” He reached in and pulled out a package of pink Sno Balls.
“Seriously? I got the same thing.” I pulled mine out and set them next to his.
“Copycat.”
“I didn’t know,” I whined.
“All right,” Jase said. “The next thing is a very special delicacy, an American tradition. These babies are undeniably good and equally disgusting.”
Swear on This Life Page 21