Or my boss, I guess, which is a sobering thought.
“Oh my God.” Beth’s voice cuts through the silence as she bursts into the kitchen, hair hanging damp, her face scrubbed pink-clean.
“I took atwenty-minute shower. That is the longest shower I have taken in years.” She points at Tegan. “Iloveyou and your sister.”
Tegan beams. “We’re reallylovable.”
I’m pretty sure that’s directed at me. My ears are on fire, so it’s perfect timing that the girls burst through the back door right then, Jess bringing up the rear. Our eyes meet and I’m exactly what Tegan said I was.
Dry ground in a drought. Last night was a shower, when what I really need is a downpour.
Beth claps sharply and calls to the girls to get their packs and get to the van, and it’s chaos for at least the next two minutes, the girls running around looking for things called “Squishmal-lows” and shoes other than the ones they’re currently wearing. Ginny says Mace called me “Uncle Lazy Bones” before he left the house and Katie decides to make up a song about it, and Beth can’t find the keys to the van and Tegan announces that she needs a new toothbrush, and can she ride along to camp drop-off?
And I know I should be paying attention—to whether Squish-mallows are the things I bought my nieces for Christmas last year, to how mad Mace is at me for not being awake for mowing, to the lyrics of this song that I’ll probably never live down, to the fact that I saw the keys next to the coffeemaker a few minutes ago, and that Tegan probably doesn’t need a new toothbrush at all.
But I’m not.
I’m paying attention to Jess and she’s paying attention to me, and we keep our eyes on or almost always on each other until the door out to the garage closes behind everyone and the van starts up and drives away.
Until we’re alone.
Briefly, she drops her eyes to her feet, and when she raises her gaze to mine again, her cheeks go pink, and her full lips press together briefly in what I hope is the same sense memory as the one I’m having right now. I think about saying something like,Sorry if I yelled at you on the trampolineorHey, your sister said you like meorI don’t usually sleep this late. I think about simply standing up and getting her over my shoulder, fireman-carrying her back down those basement steps to where I slept so fitfully last night and taking advantage of whatever few, private minutes we have before this house fills up again.
I’m weighing which one of these barely thought-out options is the least unhinged when Jess speaks again.
“I want the two days, too,” she says, fast and maybe a little overloud for the fact that she’s only a few steps away from me. My heart squeezes in my chest, hard and half-painful, at this small sign of her nervousness.
Her courage.
Jess Greene, trying to trust me again.
Everything Tegan said to me only moments ago comes back to me now, fresh and clear and important. I can’t do barely-thought-out with this woman who’s been hurt enough for a whole lifetime. I can’t do naïve and hair-triggered on an old basement couch.
I realize, with a startling sort of clarity, that I’d cut out my own heart before I treated hers carelessly.
So I set down the coffee mug I forgot I was still holding and cross my arms over my chest. I’m making myself a million promises in my head about the next two days, but to Jess, I keep it simple.
“I’d like to take you out today.”
She blinks at me, the pink flush in her cheeks deepening.
“Oh.”
If I’m not mistaken, there might be the smallest note of disappointment in her voice. Like maybe she wouldn’t have minded the fireman-carry, the few minutes of privacy, at all. Like maybe she was hoping for exactly those things.
I admit—I briefly reconsider my plan.
But ultimately, I stick to my guns. Remember my promises. I smile across the space at her, and she presses those perfect lips together again.
“Like . . . on a date?” she says.
I shrug, feigning a nonchalance I’m nowhere near feeling.
“Whatever you want to call it. Just you and me. I’ll text Beth and let her know.”
She tucks her hands in the pockets of her jet-black jeans, and I know I’m watching her the way Tegan said I did. Practically praying for rain.
And she makes me wait for it. A long stretch where I guess she’s deciding whether going out with me today is a bigger deal than making out with me on a trampoline.
