A moment passes, his eyes on mine, his mouth opening then closing as if he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. Then again, he doesn’t have to. Despite himself, Jesse has always had an incredibly expressive face, and right now, reluctant gratitude lies there.
I give him a soft look before nodding and taking a step out of her room. “Anyway. Dinner is in the oven. Emma knows the deal, and you’ll need to help her get the sandwiches out of the oven.” I move down the hall toward the front door, and he follows me. “Did eight this morning work? Or should I try earlier or later tomorrow? Just let me know.” I try to keep my tone as light as possible.
“Eight works.”
I nod, but don’t turn around. “Cool. Okay. Bye, Emma! See you tomorrow!” I call out toward the kitchen.
“Bye, Hallie, thanks for hanging out with me!”
I reach the mudroom and grab my jacket, sliding it on almost frantically before putting on my shoes.
“I’ll walk you out,” Jesse says, and I fight back a groan. Madden almost always walks me to my car on the days when I work from the small office on the farm, so I know arguing it is a lost cause. Mrs. King raised those boys with manners, and even though they’re both grown, when they’re on the King property, they still fear the wrath of Mrs. King.
Still, I try.
“There’s no need,” I say with a shake of my head anyway, but he ignores me.
I let out a quiet sigh of defeat as I dig through my bag to find my keys before stepping into the biting December cold. Quietly, we walk to my car, his boots crunching on the gravel, the onlysound between us. I think I’m home free, my hand on the door handle, but before I can pull it, his voice breaks the silence.
“Was Emma okay with you?”
When I look over at him, his face is unreadable, so I answer the best I can, giving him a small, forced smile.
“Yeah. She was great. We messed around with some of her Christmas gifts, cleaned her room, made some plans for the week, and then she wanted to learn to make something for dinner. It’s nothing special, but she did almost all of it herself, so she’s really excited.”
He nods, hesitating as if he wants to say more, but he shakes his head and stops himself.
I pull the door of my car open fully, his hand reaching out to grab the top and hold it open for me, and I snap. Maybe it’s the anxiety of the day and knowing that more of the same is coming tomorrow, or perhaps it’s the way he suddenly looks so tired. Either way, I speak without thinking.
“Are you okay?” I ask, and he looks as surprised as I feel that the words left my mouth.
“What?” I shift, leaning against the side of my car to face him fully, and crossing my arms on my chest. Might as well get this over with now, so I can get on with the week knowing where I stand. Wherewestand.
“Are you okay? With this? Me being here, helping out, and watching Emma?” A moment passes, and I bite back the inherent need to continue to ramble and explain and fill in the silence. Eventually, a reluctant Jesse speaks.
“Yeah. We’re good. You’re good with her.”
I stare at him, so many unspoken words hanging in the freezing cold between us, tangible in the clouds our breathing creates.
“I just…I know you were annoyed this morning about my watching Emma, and I know I’m not as good with kids asWren, but I promise everything was okay today. I made sure we followed your rules, or at least the ones—” He shakes his head, and I stop my rambling.
“No, no. It’s not that. Wren deserves to have some time to herself. I’m just having a rough go of it with her lately and wasn’t sure if she was being a brat with you.”
I nod, understanding, but I still can’t let it go. I can’t sleep tonight knowing I’m coming here tomorrow without a firm answer. “But this.” I gestured between us. “Us. We’re good?” A long beat passes, and his eyes bore into me in a way that Jesse King has always been good at. I hold my breath, waiting before finally, he nods.
“Yeah. We’re good, Hal.”
Hal.A nickname I once hated, considering it a boy’s name, then begrudgingly accepted because it wasJessesaying it, then missed when he stopped.
A name I hadn’t heard in almost a year, and definitely not in that soft, sweet tone. We stand there quietly, both of us looking at the other, lost in our own thoughts for a moment before I break the silence once more.
“Okay, well, good. Then, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, my voice soft as I force my body to move. His hand stays on the top of my door as he watches me slide into my car and turn the key in the ignition. Then he nods at me, a small thing that holds all those unspeakable words that still linger.
I hope he never says them.
“Later, Hal,” he says, then slams my door.
I put the car in drive, turning out of the gravel drive in front of his house and down the road toward town. As I drive down the familiar road, I let myself take in the first deep breath since he came home.
