Forever, Jack (16 page)

Jazz waited with me until the end of my shift, and then we made our way to my house. I scrounged out a tin of Mrs. Weaton’s leftover pecan pie and warmed it on two plates in the microwave.

“God, boys can be so dumb sometimes,” Jazz offered as I described everything that had taken place since our middle of the night phone call where I’d told her Jack was back. “If he wasn’t doing anything with those girls in England, why did he re-create that whole scene by hanging out with Ashley and her friends?”

“I know, right?” I shook my head and added more ice cream to my pie. “Do you think he really didn’t sleep with anyone since he last saw me?” I asked Jazz.

“Damn, maybe.”

“But there’s tons he could have done without having to do the … actual deed,” I muttered morosely, thinking of Ashley’s offer to him last night.

“True,” said Jazz, and then her eyes went round, her mouth stretching wide and downturned in a parody of worry. “My God, maybe you have a magic
vajayjay
, and you’ve …
ruined
him,” she whispered the last part in mock horror.

I choked on my mouthful.

Jazz went on dramatically, “Like,
forever
. Goodness, the poor guy must be desperate. Can you imagine?”

Jazz could hardly make it through the last word of her sentence because we both got a fit of giggles.

“Or maybe he just developed erectile dysfunction.”

“In which case you probably don’t want him anyway.”

The back screen door banged, interrupting our mirth. “It’s nothing to laugh at girls.” Joey’s voice came from behind us, making us jump. “It’s a real medical condition. And it sure is good to know that you all don’t grow up much while I’m away.”

“Joey!” I leapt up to hug him. “What are you doing home?”

“Thought I’d surprise my best girl,” he said, putting his duffle bag down and catching me. He looked handsome in jeans and a blue button down. Brown leather cowboy boots peaked out at his ankles. His blond hair was longer and shaggier than usual.

“And make sure I wasn’t jumping into Jack’s arms?”

“And that.” He hugged me back. “Jazz,” he acknowledged her over my head. “Anyway, I just have studying to do for the next few days, but I can do it here as well as there.”

“Jazz just got back from Florida with Brandon,” I added for her sake.

“Hey, Joey,” Jazz chirped breezily and cleared her throat. “Well, we were just discussing Jack, so since he has that ‘medical condition,’ Keri Ann is probably safe.”

“And how might you all
know
that he has this condition?” Joey asked.

“We’re
surmising.
Despite all evidence to the contrary, apparently he’s been celibate since the last time he saw your sister.”

Joey snorted with disbelief. “Yeah, right.”

“Well, it’s either that or you may have to face that Jack’s going after Keri Ann for real.” Jazz’s proclamation sobered us all. “Sometimes, people just know what they want,” she added, and I knew she just couldn’t help herself around Joey.

I swallowed.

“Or he’s
lying
,” said Joey. “You girls are way too trusting of men. Guys often just want one thing and will say anything to get it.”

“
Us
girls are too trusting? Or girls in general?” Jazz snapped at Joey. “And guys in general say anything to get it, or guys like you?”

Whoa
.

Jazz slumped back against her kitchen chair then hissed a breath through her teeth as her burned back made contact. “Ow.”

Joey stepped forward and caught himself. “What’s the matter?”

I smirked.

“I got burned, it’s nothing.” Jazz winced.

Joey went around behind her. “Shit, that’s not good. When did this happen?”

“Yesterday afternoon. I fell asleep in the sun,” Jazz muttered. “It’s fine really. The Lidocaine I sprayed on earlier before the drive up must be wearing off.”

“What the hell? Wasn’t your … wasn’t Bradford, or whatever, supposed to be with you?” I knew full well he knew the name of Jazz’s boyfriend.

“Brandon!” Jazz and I yelled. And looked at each other. “Of the chocolate-brown eyes!” we chorused and busted out laughing again.

“Have you all been drinking?” Joey asked.

Still chuckling, I went to the pantry cupboard and pulled the first-aid basket down. I rummaged around and found more Lidocaine and some
Soothing Aloe
. “Catch,” I called to Joey and tossed the items at him.

Joey caught them, flawlessly, one after the other. “I’m not—”

“He’s not—”

“Yep, you are. I’m going to shower the Grill off me. Then, let’s order pizza and watch a movie.”

I headed for the stairs and heard Jazz murmur as if bored, “Fine, let’s see what you’ve got
Doctor
Butler.”

“You did always make me want to
play
Doctor, Miss Fraser,” Joey returned, and I almost tripped on the stairs in surprise. It was usually Jazz teasing and trying to goad him, and I’d never heard him playing along. I’d have given anything to see Jazz’s face right then. Perhaps Colt was right, a bit of healthy competition did work wonders.

The first thing that struck me upon waking the next morning was that I’d made a mistake with Jack. I knew it down to the depths of my Carolina girl soul. The same way I knew it was time to look for sea turtle nests without checking the calendar.

Struggling to pull myself from the arms of slumber, as it seduced me with the promise of going back to emotion-less oblivion, sounds and smells from downstairs penetrated my consciousness. Coffee, bacon, and something sweet promised me a reward for facing these complicated emotions.

How could I possibly feel guilt at hurting Jack after what he put me through? But there it was clear as day. I felt guilt when I thought back to his expression, his beautiful eyes that looked so shattered. Twice since he’d come back only days ago, I’d taken his declarations and carelessly thrown them back in his face. God, but I was right to do it. Right to protect myself. What if I gave him a chance and ended up back where I’d been months ago?

And seriously, that whole stunt with Devon and him hanging out at the Grill signing autographs … was that what my future looked like? Being in the spotlight was hard enough with my art, imagine being photographed as Jack Eversea’s girlfriend? Being judged as to whether I was good enough for him, what I had that others didn’t? I shuddered. No, thank you.

And then when we fell apart again, I’d get pitying looks from the whole world, not just those who knew the first time. Of course it wouldn’t last, they’d say.
She wasn’t cut out for his life
.
What did he see in her anyway?

Abruptly, I sat up.
Dammit
.

Breakfast smelled really good. I quickly dressed in cargo pants and a lightweight black tee and trotted downstairs.

Mrs. Weaton, my elderly tenant, who I might add had her own kitchen in her own cottage, was bustling about
my
kitchen clucking and muttering under her breath. She caught sight of me, and her lined face creased up in a smile. “Hi, Love!” she crowed and gave me a quick one-armed squeeze as she held the spatula in the other.

I looked over and saw Joey at the kitchen table bent over a laptop and papers, deep in concentration.

“Uh, hi.” I hugged her back, her lavender scent comforting me, and smiled at her eccentric make-up. “Not that I don’t love being woken with the smell of coffee and bacon, but what are you doing here?”

“Aw, sugar, you just sit your cute bee-hind down on that there seat, and I’ll tell you all about it. First grab yourself a coffee.” She motioned to the pot.

“Morning, Joey,” I greeted.

“Morning,” he mumbled but didn’t look up. The movie last night had been awkwardly tense between my brother and Jazz. Eventually, Jazz had begged tiredness from her drive and said goodnight. Joey watched her leaving, a brooding expression on his face, his thumb brushing his bottom lip over and over.

I’d refrained from saying a word.

I headed to the coffee. There was a large white envelope with Keri Ann scrawled on the front of it propped up against the sugar bowl. “What’s this,” I asked Mrs. Weaton, picking it up.

“Oh, it’s just a letter from Jack.”

“What?” The smile slid off my face.

“What?” asked Joey, his head snapping up.

I frowned at him.

“I know,” Mrs. Weaton crowed. “Had to give the boy an envelope! You young people should all have your own stationary. How can you possibly correspond when you don’t own even an envelope?”

“How … when …?” I didn’t know what to ask first.

“Yesterday evening. I was back a bit late from my Wednesday afternoon Canasta. So I told him to leave it on the porch. He saw Joey and Jazzy’s car there so didn’t want to disturb you. Then when I woke up this morning and saw you hadn’t taken it inside, I thought I’d bring it in for you.”

She transferred the bacon out onto an old newspaper, then she sighed and opened the oven, bathing the kitchen in a hot waft of cinnamon and treacle. “That boy.”

My stomach growled, drowning out the thumping of my heart, as I fingered the envelope nervously. I finished making my coffee then carried it over to the table. “What about him?”

“Well, dear. It’s obvious how he feels about you. I could tell right from the beginning. And I’m just over here to make sure you read his letter and hear what he has to say for himself.”

“Please,” snorted Joey. “I’d say he’s had his chance to tell Keri Ann how he feels, and I think we all got the message loud and clear last time.”

My throat closed.

“Sorry,” Joey said quickly. “But you’re not seriously going to read it are you?”

Mrs. Weaton carried a plate of bacon and
Heart Attack Cake,
which was like a pound cake that was twice baked with butter, syrup, local pecans, and cinnamon, and plopped everything on the table in front of Joey and me. The breakfast of champions.

I slid the letter to the side and helped myself to the offerings. “Since when were you on
his
side?” I asked Mrs. Weaton, deciding to pretend Joey wasn’t there. “You do remember how miserable I was, right?” I thought I may as well throw Joey a bone.

“Sweetie. At my age you gather a wisdom about life and about love. You get to see your mistakes and regrets in all their
nekkid
glory. And it ain’t pretty.” She huffed. “I can promise you this—you’ll wish you gave him a second chance. That boy is in love. He may not even realize it yet, but when he does, I don’t believe there is anything he wouldn’t do for you. You don’t just toss that away when it comes around. It may not ever come again.”

Joey had nothing to offer, for once. He got up and left the kitchen.

I bit into the delicious cake, but at Mrs. Weaton’s words, its decadence got lost on me.

“Well, he told me he is. In love with me,” I said, softly, lest Joey still be in earshot. “But I told him if he meant it, he would leave me alone. And he sure didn’t do that. He showed up at work night before last.” I shook my head. “How can he possibly be in love with me? He hardly knows me!” I dropped the fork back on my plate with a clang and pushed it away.
How dare he just come back here and tip my life upside down again?

I lunged for the letter, intent on ripping it to shreds in my irritation. And fear. I
was
scared it would change my mind.

Mrs. Weaton surprised me by whipping it off the table with her bony and liver-spotted hand before my fingers had landed. “No, you don’t!”

“Damn. You’re fast!” I said, shocked, as we looked at each other wide-eyed. Then I snorted, and we both erupted into laughter.

“Well, that was some welcome comic relief, it was beginning to get rather maudlin around here.” Mrs. Weaton sniffed in mock disapproval.

“Sorry,” I offered. “I wouldn’t really have ripped it up. I guess I’m still so mad at him. How could he be gone for so long without a word if he really feels the way he says he does? And truly? What the hell, sorry, kind of a relationship am
I
going to have with a movie-star?”

“Well, have you asked him?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I mean, I meant to, or at least, we’ve tried to talk, but … I wouldn’t listen.”

I tried to piece together all the snippets of his explanations I remembered. “He said …” I paused, wondering how much to share. “He said he had to stay away to protect me, and he said he hasn’t … ahem, … you know.” My cheeks heated as I cleared my throat. “Since me.”

“I should hope not!” she said, looking incensed. “But, I know how you young ones are these days. I suppose that
is
something. Well,” she continued, “I’m not saying you forgive him right away, or even believe everything he says, but, honey, you at least need to get all the facts.” She slid the letter over to me. “You don’t want any regrets over this. Trust me, I know. Now, eat. Then, go read.”

I took a big gulp of coffee and chewed my way through four pieces of bacon and half the cake slice. It really was deliciously vile. When I was done, I hugged Mrs. Weaton and went up to the attic.

I sought out my little reading nook I’d created as a young girl. Ripping open the large envelope, I expected to find a letter. Albeit a long one based on the thickness of the envelope. Instead, I pulled out a folded sheaf of white pages tied with an aged and faded red string. The pages had clearly been torn from a lined book and were filled with Jack’s scrawl that I recognized from the grocery lists he used to leave.