“I want that for you, sweetheart,” Mom continues.“Trust me when I say you won’t be happy working at the casinos for the rest of your life.”From the corner of my eye, I see her shoulders rise and fall.“Do I feel a sense of panic when you say you’ll be staying on at the lake?Yes.It’s beautiful, but the lifestyle in that town can be crude.People come looking for utopia and wind up broke with an STD and a drug addiction.”
My lip curls.“Gross, Mom.”
“It’s the truth.”
I think about Drake and some of the other people I’ve worked with.She’s totally right.The casinos attract people looking to make quick money, not all of them trustworthy or moral.
“You’re capable of so much more, but if you don’t want to go to Harvard, then you shouldn’t.”She swings the end of the braid over my shoulder and stands.“I don’t want you to ever feel alone in this life.As long as there is air in my lungs, I’m here for you.”She bends and kisses my forehead, her perfume and the soft feel of her lips a balm to my frayed nerves.
ChapterTwenty-One
Ispend the next couple of days at my mom’s kitchen counter using my laptop to research art and design classes in Lake Tahoe.The more I think about pursuing art, the more right it feels.Jaeger put the bug in my ear during our hike at Fallen Leaf Lake, and if I think back, Gen nudged me a time or two about my drawings as well, but I never took her seriously.I wasn’t ready.
I’m ready now.
Once I knocked down the walls of the narrow corridor that was the road to my future, the possibilities opened up.Options I never considered, but that were probably always there, waiting to be explored.What better time to try something new than when you have nothing to lose?
I texted Gen when I first arrived to tell her I’d be away, but I haven’t contacted Jaeger, other than to tell him I’m out of town.He’s called several times and left three messages.I haven’t returned a single one.I need to figure myself out before I confront him.The last thing I want is to lose him, but getting myself in order should come first.
By the time Tyler and I return to the lake, I have pages of information on classes, as well as informational phone interviews lined up with a couple of local artists.I know zilch about what it takes to make a living in this field.I’m hoping that talking to other artists will help, and I wanted to do that outside of Jaeger, even though he’s an artist too.This career change isn’t about Jaeger.He gave me the idea, but this has to come from me, no matter what happens between him and me.
I’ve been sketching like crazy, and now that I’ve delved into it, I wish I’d considered a creative art career a long time ago.It still scares the crap out of me.Art doesn’t require a scholarly predisposition, which is what I’ve relied on to get ahead.Art is about creativity and imagination.A career in this field is a leap of faith that could make me truly happy—or could land me flat on my face.But considering that my nose has had an up close and personal view of the gutter, thanks to my ex-boyfriend and Blue Casino, what’s the worst that can happen?
Since my brother and I have been back these last couple of days, both Gen and I have been busy.We haven’t discussed the argument we had before I left, and I haven’t asked her why she was in Jaeger’s arms at the casino.The fact she kept the Eric thing from me for as long as she did has me hesitating.Which is more reason to talk to my best friend, because we’ve never had trust issues before and we need to get back on track.
But first… it’s been nearly a week since I fled the casino and I’ve finally mustered up the nerve to visit Jaeger.
The location of his house from the one time I went there is a little fuzzy.I make two wrong turns and finally find the correct driveway on the third try.I could have called ahead, but I’ve avoided him for a week and I really want to see him in person to explain.
I’m in luck because his truck is in the driveway.
My heart speeds up and my hands shake.I’m usually good with confrontation, but facing Jaeger has me scared.Now that I’ve had some time away from the whole situation, there’s a good chance I misinterpreted what I saw going on between him and Gen at the casino, but there’s also a chance I was right.It’s that possibility that has my nerves in a bundle.Because I really care about Jaeger and I want to continue what we started.
I ease Tyler’s old Land Cruiser beside Jaeger’s truck and step out, gulping in the pine and earth scent, grounding myself.It’s late afternoon and the sun is low in the sky, casting shadows around the front yard.A beam of light shoots past the swing where Jaeger kissed me, making me even more nervous and hopeful that everything will turn out okay.
My heart thumps hard as I jog up the front steps to his house and knock on the door.I pull my hair back and twist it behind my neck and out of my face.
After a long pause, I knock again, and glance back at his truck in the driveway to confirm I didn’t imagine it there.
When still no one answers, I gingerly lean over the porch and peer in the window.The living room is dim and lifeless.
Did he go somewhere without his truck?
When I first exited the Land Cruiser, my ears were ringing from the noise of Tyler’s beater, but now I’m picking up the sound of birds and insects—and a soft hum coming from the woodshop.He’s working?
I make my way around the side of the house and across the pavers.The sound of a machine stirring the air grows louder.
I’m not surprised when no one answers my knock on his woodshop door, with the machine running so loudly inside.I twist the knob and slowly enter.
Jaeger’s back is to me.He’s in blue jeans and a plain T-shirt that fits loosely around his waist, hugging the muscles in his back and arms.He’s working with something that looks like a giant sewing machine with a saw instead of a needle.Attention focused, his gloved hands carefully maneuver the wood in front of him.
The urge to run to him and wrap my arms around his back overwhelms me.I want to smell and touch him and be close.But I don’t know where we stand or what I witnessed at the casino.Plus, I don’t want him to cut off a finger.Lunging at him while he’s operating a saw probably isn’t the best idea.
Jaeger shuts off the machine, squats to adjust something under the table, and brushes wood shavings from his head.They fall like snow, and I wonder if that’s the point of keeping his hair short.
The air in the shop smells of burnt wood and a faint hint of Jaeger’s aftershave.I breathe in deeply and he stills.He pushes clear protective glasses to the top of his head and turns around.
“Hey,” I say.
