“Like you told Ryder?”
I made a face at her. “That’s different.”
“You’ve been in love with him for half your life and you didn’t tell him about the monsters under the bed.”
“I was not in love with him,” I lied, “I was infatuated. It was a crush. I wasn’t sure about him. About us. Not enough to risk the secrets of Ordinary.”
“You are so full of shit.” Hard words, but Jean laughed. “Dad told you not to tell Ryder when you were in fifth grade. I remember it. I remember how you stood there and cried, but nodded anyway and then never said a word. You were in love. It wasn’t you who wasn’t sure about Ryder, it was Dad.”
I had mostly forgotten about that, but now the memory filled me, carrying the sorrow and crushing loss. I had told Dad that I really, really liked Ryder and would like him forever. He had dismissed it as a childish infatuation. I inhaled, exhaled, and released the ache of that long ago moment when my father’s truth and my truth had not aligned.
“Then that’s the question I should be asking. Are you sure that you love him?”
“It can’t be love.” Jean frowned. She leaned her head back and palmed a small pile of cheese popcorn into her mouth.
“Why not?”
She wiped her hand on her jeans, traded me cheese for caramel. “We haven’t known each other long enough.”
“There’s a time requirement for love?”
The wind picked up, grudgingly stirring the heavy wet heat of the day.
“I don’t know. It seems like…yes. You should know a person a…a long time before you say it’s love. It takes time to grow. Years, maybe.”
“Why can’t years happen in a day? Or a month? Or several months? Where did you get the idea that you have to know someone all your life before you can love them?” As soon as it was out of my mouth, I knew. I knew why.
“Ryder and me. Jean, you know he and I have not handled our relationship very…we really haven’t eventriedto be a relationship until recently.”
“You’ve known him all your life. He’s known you.” She said it with a sigh of longing. I kind of wanted to smack her out of it.
“You’re ridiculous. Knowing him that long hasn’t made it easier. And it doesn’t make it the only way to fall in love.”
Jean closed her eyes, soaking in the sun. “I missed summer. I’m glad we’ll get a couple weeks of it. Did you make a deal with Thor?”
Total change of subject, the chicken. “Sort of. I told him we’d throw him a big welcome home party next year when he comes back if he’d lay off the water works. I think he got bored and decided to go start a hurricane in the south. Talk to me.” I whacked her with the popcorn bag and the seagulls squawked, cheering for a kernel-spilling fight.
“No.”
“Don’t ignore Hogan. And you loving him. And him loving you and wanting to share his life with you.”
She scowled out at the ocean. No easy feat with the wall of seagulls crowded in front of us, beady black eyes following our every potential popcorn dropping move.
“I’ve never thought of our town as dangerous.” She winced. “That’s so naive.”
“Our town isn’t any more dangerous than any other small town.”
Jean chewed on a few kernels. “Lavius got across our border, Delaney. He found you alone on the beach and he attacked you. He could have killed you.”
“He didn’t kill me. You all got there in time.”
“He didn’t leave you alive because we showed up. If he thought he could have gotten his message across better with you dead, you’d have been dead, even with us standing there.”
Wow. That was difficult to hear.
“It’s…it reminds me too much of Dad,” she said. “He was there, and then…then he was gone. Off a cliff he’d driven along all of his life. You and I both know he didn’t lose control of the car accidentally.”
“What are you saying?”
