The back door creaked open, and I whipped around. Jack crept out of the house, still in his station gear. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his navy pants and plodded down the boardwalk to where I was sitting.
The tall grass that covered the sand dunes whispered with the wind, gossiping about what it had overheard.
“Morning,” Jack said as he neared.
I offered a pitiful smile. “Hi. Sorry I kind of crashed your house.”
He chuckled as he sat down beside me. “That’s all right. It’s why we put the addition on. You’re welcome anytime.”
“Whitney can sleep with me tonight so you and Wander can have your bed back.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “I’m not even gonna pretend to argue with that.” Jack cocked his head to the side. “How ya doing?”
“Shitty,” I admitted.
“Yeah. I figured. Auror—Wandertold me what happened.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed me the screen. It was littered with texts from Ryan asking Jack and Miles if I was with Whitney and Wander, and if they would check on me.
“So the question is, are you here right now?”
“No,” I said, knowing that, as soon as Ryan got confirmation, he’d show up. I wasn’t ready to see him, and I didn’t know if I would ever be.
Jack nodded as he opened their chat and typed out a very succinct, “Get fucked.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I mumbled.
He chuckled. “Miles will take care of him.”
“Oh my god,” I groaned. “Is he going to kill him?”
“He probably will if you ask nicely.”
“I don’t want him dead,” I said as I dug my foot into the sand. “I just want him to hurt as much as I am.”
Jack nodded in understanding.
“And I’m fully aware that’s not the mature thing to want,” I blurted out. “I’m probably supposed to say I want him to be happy, but I don’t. I hope his tires are always flat. I hope his pillow is always warm. I hope he can never find a parking spot and that the subway is always running late. I hope that it rains whenever he’s wearing flip-flops. I hope he hits every red light. I hope his socks are always wet. I hope he stubs his toe every time he turns a corner. I hope his coffee is always lukewarm. Not hot. Not iced. Just tepid and gross.” I huffed as ire fueled me into my pettiest self. “I hope he always tries to plug in a USB wire upside down. I hope his belt loops always get caught on a doorknob. I hope his showers are always cold. I hope he burns his tongue on the first bite of his favorite food. I hope he has to change insurance plans every single freaking year, and I hope he’s miserable trying to find new doctors that are covered. I hope there’s a cricket in his house that he can never find. I hope his smoke alarm batteries die in the middle of the night and he’s out of fresh batteries. I hope he goes to start a load of laundry and realizes he left a load in the washing machine and everything smells like mildew. Speaking of washing machines, I hope he washes his bedding, forgets about it until he’s ready to go to sleep, and then finds out he left it in the washing machine. I hope someone signs him up for Scientology emails and gives his name and phone number to every annoying realtor in New York. I hope he runs out of toilet paper while he’s using the bathroom and he’s the only one home. I hope his favorite toothpaste is discontinued. I hope?—”
“All right, killer,” Jack said with a chuckle as he gently patted me on the back.
I dropped my head into my hands. “Am I a terrible person?”
“Terrible people don’t wonder if they’re terrible people,” Jack said. “You’re just hurt and angry.” Jack picked up my phone and tapped the screen, bringing up hundreds of missedcalls and unread texts from my mom and Lisa. “Seems like a lot of people are trying to get in touch with you.”
“I’ll get to them eventually.”
“It’s okay to make ‘em sweat a little,” Jack said with a grunt as he pushed up to his feet. “I’m gonna hit the hay. I think Wander and Whitney are up and moving. You need anything?”
I shook my head. “I’ll be all right. Thanks, Jack.”
I stared at the surf as Jack moseyed back inside as thoughts of Ryan washed in like a flood. “I hope you’re happy, and I hope I never have to know about it.”
FROM SHEP
To my brilliant daughter on your high school graduation,
Today, I get to watch you walk across the stage, get your diploma, and turn your tassel. I wish like hell I was sitting with your mom, but sometimes things don’t work out, no matter how hard you try.
One thing will never change. You will always be what I am most proud of in this lifetime. You are smart. You are generous. You love everyone you meet. You are empathetic. You are wise and insightful well beyond your years.
