He felt like letting her go was the best thing for Jenna. But was Beau right—was pride the thing that kept him from talking to her?
They’d talked, of course, just not about what happened. He couldn’t seem to avoid her. She shopped in the store. She went to his church now and had joined their Sunday school class, sitting by Mercer. The conversations Jackson had with her were polite and sanitized, as though they’d never had a relationship at all. They said hello. He asked how she was doing. She said fine. They smiled and walked away.
She wanted to pretend they were casual friends? Fine. He could pretend.
It was torture. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in his arms and beg her forgiveness. Jackson was desperate to make things right between them. He didn’t feel like he deserved her, but he loved her nonetheless. That’s right—love.
If he’d had a question before, he was sure now: he loved Jenna. Completely. Fully. Foolishly.
Too late. Or, maybe it was exactly the right time. If he had realized it before and told her, maybe it would have been harder to let her go.
He had even more reason to keep his distance. Megan had asked Jackson if she could live with him full-time. Kim didn’t fight it, though they’d had a lot of long and unpleasant conversations with each other and with lawyers. Megan would move in at the start of summer.
Would Jenna really want a relationship with him when he came with a prickly pre-teen? It was one thing when Megan was just around some weekends. Living with him would mean being a full-time parent. He didn’t even know how that would work or if he could do it. Jenna was starting her life fresh. There was no way she would want to be an instant parent to Megan.
Jackson had thought it all through, again and again. This was the best decision for Jenna. That’s what love did, right? It put the other person first.
And yet … Jackson was miserable. When he saw Jenna, she didn’t seem happy either.
Jackson leaned forward at his desk, but did not meet Mercer’s eyes. “How do you know when it’s time to do the stupid thing and when it’s time to do the smart one?”
She didn’t answer right away. “It’s one of those things you just know. Other people will usually tell you to be smart. But that doesn’t make them right. You know that song, ‘Reckless Love?’ ”
“How could I forget that heated Sunday school debate?” Apparently the worship song rubbed a lot of people the wrong way, as they found out one Sunday morning.
“Right. Well, I get why people debate. It sounds on the surface like it’s insulting God, calling him reckless. But the song is more of a human picture to show how big God’s love is. The way God loves us—well, if it were a friend of yours, you’d tell them to give up. That it’s not worth it to chase after someone who’s running away from you or rebelling. But God comes after us like that. In the human sense that looks reckless.”
“Wow. I don’t remember you saying all that in Sunday school.”
“Yeah, well. I don’t always talk a lot in big groups. But that’s what I think about the song and about love. Sometimes real love is reckless. It’s foolish.”
Jackson had certainly done a lot of foolish things recently, but not the good kind of foolish. Flying off the handle at Jenna without getting the full story. Punching Beau in the face. And then being too cowardly to push when Jenna said she just wanted to be friends.
“So, you’d suggest in this case, that I do the reckless thing?”
Mercer smiled. “Definitely. I have an idea actually. Of a very reckless thing you could do.”
Jackson laughed. “Of course you do. Can I think about it for a while?”
“Sometimes taking too long to decide is making a decision.”
“Okay, Mr. Miyagi.”
“Who?”
Jackson rolled his eyes. “Karate Kid? Ever heard of it? Never mind. I keep forgetting that I’m in a different generation. You are wise beyond your years. And yet you know so little about iconic movies of the past.”
“Thanks, I think? Anyway, this is as pushy as I get, but the idea I have is time-sensitive. You probably shouldn’t wait.” She lingered in the doorway, hand on the frame. “For what it’s worth, I really think that you should choose to make the stupid decision. Be foolish, Jackson.”
Jackson pictured Jenna’s face, remembering the feel of her in his arms as they danced on her back porch. His heart seemed to rocket back to life again, roaring in his chest. For the first time in weeks, Jackson felt like something deep inside him was waking up again.
“Fine. I’ll make the foolish choice. Now, sit down and tell me what it is I just agreed to.”
Chapter Twenty
“I really think you might like this one.” Mercer pulled her car into the driveway of a beach cottage set back in the trees, the house up on stilts with space for parking underneath. A hammock swung lazily beneath the house.
Jenna tried not to laugh when she caught sight of Mercer’s face, which was pinched. She was already prepared for Jenna to reject it on sight. Which she had done a few times that morning already. And over the past week, though sometimes she actually made it inside the house before saying no. She and Mercer had looked at twenty properties over the last few weeks. The search had been almost lazy at first, but now that Jenna had actually sold her mother’s house and had a closing date just a few weeks away, she was feeling the pressure.
She was also feeling indecisive.
Jenna was like Goldilocks—this one too small, this one too large, this one too expensive, this one too worn down. Whether it was renting versus buying, three bedrooms over four, nearer to the beach or on the Sound side of the island, Jenna hadn’t been able to pick.
Now that she had a job working for a real estate firm—intentionally not the one Anna worked at—Jenna set up the appointment, but let Mercer pick all the listings. Jenna went in blind, with the address and the lock-box codes and nothing else. It didn’t matter if she was going about this backwards, the opposite of how she would recommend clients do it. Jenna wanted to find a place that spoke to her.
Mercer had picked a variety. They had looked at fixer-uppers and fully-renovated homes. Even a few new ones, though most of those were out of Jenna’s budget. Larger homes, smaller ones. Condos. Houses. Ranches. Beach homes on stilts. Beach side. Sound side. Somehow Mercer kept her patience. Jenna would have tried to pawn off this kind of client on someone else. Maybe the adage about doctors making the worst patients was true also of real estate agents making the worst clients.
Jenna could have done this on her own, but it had been surprisingly fun to have Mercer with her. At least, it was fun for Jenna. If Mercer was still talking to her by the end of this, then their friendship would probably last forever. She had a feeling that it would. Mercer still kept a lot of things close, but Jenna hoped she would open up more over time. They talked almost daily now, but never her past. And never about Jackson.
“I like the look of it,” Jenna said. More than like. This house got her blood pumping. It looked like a classic beach cottage, but well-maintained. Possibly renovated.
“About time,” Mercer muttered, getting out of the car.
“I heard that!”
Jenna felt a quickening of her heartbeat as she stepped out of the car. The house had the gray-shingled outside she loved, but a bright and cheery coat of white on the trim that looked fresh. It faced north, not east toward the beach, but a swatch of water might be visible from up there. A screened-in porch and big wide deck surrounded the three sides you could see. Underneath the house there was plenty of room for parking, what looked like a little shed, and an outdoor shower with wooden walls and a door. Exactly what you’d want for a house at the beach.
At the top of the stairs to the deck, Jenna went straight into the screened porch instead of the main door of the house. Mercer trailed behind her silently, letting Jenna look. A couch with big blue cushions covered in a print with shore birds sat along the wall, just under a window looking into the house. In the corner
there was a tall hanging chair that looked oddly like a birdcage. She sat down in it and found it surprisingly comforting. She wasn’t imagining it—she could definitely smell the ocean.
“Is the rest of the place furnished?” Jenna asked. “Everything looks new.” And much nicer than what she thought she could afford. Mercer hadn’t mentioned cost yet and Jenna was almost afraid to ask.
“It’s fully furnished, which should be perfect for you. Especially considering your time constraints.”
“Ugh. Let’s not mention the deadline, please.” Closing was a few weeks away still, but if Jenna didn’t find somewhere this week, it would be difficult to get paperwork done and her things moved in time.
The late afternoon sun slanted down and Jenna could imagine dinners around the picnic table, the night falling softly like a shawl. Beau, Mercer, Jimmy, and some of the other friends from church. She had been surprised at how easy it was to walk through the doors of Hope the day after everything went down with Jackson. Something had shifted when she stood with her feet in the cold water on the beach. She was still working through her feelings about everything, but she was no longer angry with God. Instead, he returned to being her refuge he used to be. The way he always had been, even when she couldn’t see it.
That first morning at Hope, the worship team sang “Great Is Thy Faithfulness,” the old hymn she remembered from childhood. It had brought her to tears. She realized just how much she had stopped trusting in God’s faithfulness to her. He was right there all along. She felt his welcome in the songs and the messages. She felt it in the people she was getting to know more week by week. It restored her faith and helped her feel a connection to her mother.
It also meant that she saw Jackson every week. Despite her best efforts to keep an emotional distance, her heart didn’t agree. It was a traitor, longing to talk to him, be near him, touch him, spinning her thoughts into daydreams before she could stop it.
You can’t let yourself get hurt again, she told herself.
Life is full of hurts. You’re making a mistake giving up on him, that other voice argued. It had been getting louder lately, the pesky, argumentative voice. Despite her rational arguments, these thoughts kept coming. Especially whenever she saw Jackson and her body lit up the way it always did. She couldn’t help but remember his scent and the feel of his strong arms around her. When he wasn’t looking, her gaze still fell to his lips, remembering.
“Do you want to go inside or are we going to hang out on the porch?” Mercer stood by the door.
Jenna retrieved the code for the box that held the key. When she opened the door and they stepped inside, Jenna almost gasped. It was like the kind of beach house she would have designed for herself. It had a casual comfortable, beachy vibe all around. The space had been opened up for a perfect-sized living, dining, and kitchen. Granite counters, white subway tile backsplash, light-gray cabinets that were made to look a little weathered. The main colors for the décor were blue, gray, and sea-green.
Jenna grew worried as she walked back to the bedrooms. This place was fully renovated, had a great location walking distance to the beach, and more than enough space. She always told her clients not to set their hearts on something before signing the papers, but she already had. She wanted this place, no matter the cost. The master bedroom even had a reading nook, with a patterned wingback chair and small table with a book and an empty coffee cup.
“What do you think?” Mercer asked.
“We should go,” Jenna said.
“Wait! I thought you liked it.”
“I love it. But there’s no way I can afford this.”
Mercer cocked her head. “You’re the agent. I’m just the partner in crime. Didn’t you look at the prices or the specs?”
“I like seeing the place first before making a decision based on the listings. I pulled the specs but didn’t really look at the details.”
“Maybe you should look,” Mercer said.
“Just to find out I can’t afford it?”
“What if you can? Stop being difficult. Where’s the folder?”
“In the car.”
Mercer rolled her eyes and stomped out of the house and down the stairs. Jenna took this time to get nosy, looking for a fault that would make her feel differently about the house. But everywhere she looked just made her want the house more. From the homemade chandelier made of driftwood to the art above the couch, which looked more like actual artwork than a print. This was definitely going to be over budget.
Mercer burst back in through the door, smiling. She handed Jenna the folder with the listing. “Good news. It’s right where you wanted to be. The high side, but still in your budget. Lease, but with the option of leasing-to-own. If you’re interested.”
Jenna couldn’t stop her smile. “I’ve got some calls to make, then.”
Mercer wasn’t the jump-up-and-down, hug-it-out kind of person, but she did give Jenna’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’m really, really happy for you. I think that this is the start of good things to come.”
“I think you’re right.”
But even as she said it, Jenna felt the sadness she’d kept hidden wrapping even tighter around her heart.
It was a lovely house, but she was still alone.
“I found a place!” Jenna held the phone up to her ear as she walked through the bare kitchen. Her mother’s house was almost completely empty now—a few final pieces of furniture remained just until the day or two before closing. A charity planned to pick up the old couch and a few other pieces of furniture tomorrow.
“Yay! The real question is: can it fit my family when we come to the beach?”
Jenna laughed. “It will be a little tight, but yes. Three bedrooms, two baths. It’s one of the old-style beach cottages. Fully furnished and renovated. It’s amazing. Five or so minutes to walk to the beach. On the other side of the causeway, but there’s a crosswalk.”
“That sounds perfect. I’m so happy for you. Sold the house, found a new one, got a job—everything’s coming together.” The tightness around Jenna’s heart clenched in the silence before Rachel spoke. “I’m sorry, Jenns.”
Jenna ran a hand over the empty counter, brushing away invisible crumbs. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”
“I know you. You aren’t fine. You’re heartbroken and trying to cover. Tell me again why you aren’t talking to Jackson?”
“I’m not not talking to him.”
“But you haven’t talked about your feelings. Or about the fact that you were in a relationship that suddenly went poof for no good reason.”
“There were reasons. And he never officially said it was a relationship. It was just a … thing that happened we don’t talk about. If he wants to talk, he knows where I live.”
“He’s being just as dumb and proud as you are. And your reasons are flimsy. So, he assumed something and hurt your feelings. In his defense, you said that you had cheated and kissed Steve. It was a fair assumption for him to make.”
“Yeah, I could have worded that better.”
“Or explained before he ran out the door.”
Jenna had gone over this again and again in her mind. She actually agreed with Rachel in a lot of ways. Her reasons were paper-thin. But she clung to them and didn’t know exactly why. Fear? Pride? Though she would never admit it to Rachel, she wanted Jackson to show up at her door. She wanted him to reach out.
She wanted him.
But the more weeks went by where they were exceedingly polite to each other, staying at arm’s length away, the more she felt ridiculous for thinking that would ever happen. Jenna had been worried about things moving too fast between them, but time and distance gave her more perspective. It didn’t feel rushed now. Her feelings weren’t flimsy like her excuses. If anything, she was more solid about how she felt now. Things had happened fast between them, but it wasn’t a crush or infatuation. Jenna couldn’t say the word that accurately described her feelings. She wouldn’t. Unless Jackson came bac
k, it was a moot point. And he wasn’t coming. She felt more and more sure of this every day, as her heart broke a little more.
“I could have handled it better. But the reality is that Jackson ran out the door. He left. And he didn’t come back. I don’t want that kind of man. One who runs and leaves. I’ve had that.” She bit her lip to hold back the tears. She would not keep crying about this.
Rachel sighed through the phone. It was a giving-up kind of sigh. “You get your stubbornness from Mom, you know.”
Jenna laughed, feeling a slight relief from the pain in her chest. “Yep. So do you. Anyway, back to the house.”
“Right.”
“Come down anytime. If you happen to want to help me move in, I won’t protest.”
Rachel groaned. “What about all those friends you’ve got? Beau and his beefy firefighter buddies. Can’t they help?”
“They’re his friends.”
“Oh, yeah. Still. Maybe that would be a good thing. Invite Jackson too. That would—”
“Stop trying to play cupid. I’m impervious to arrows. I actually don’t need much help. The house is furnished and I just have the things I came down with. It’s sad, really.”
“Stop. You aren’t allowed to feel sorry for yourself. You’re starting a new life. It’s going to be amazing.”
Jenna kept telling herself that same thing. But it all just felt … empty. She shook off the thoughts. “There’s one kind of weird thing about the house, though. I didn’t meet the owner when I was signing the lease, but in the contract, I have to meet them tonight at the house. I couldn’t get much more info out of the listing agent.”
“That sounds kind of creepy.”
“It’s unorthodox, but I’m sure it will be fine. The listing agent assured me that I don’t need to be worried about it.”
“Hm. Can you take someone with you? The girl you’ve been hanging out with—Mercer?”
Sandover Beach Memories Page 19
