That Boy (That Boy Series Book 1)

by Jillian Dodd

  I do have feelings for him.

  Very strong ones.

  Of course, they are a whole mixed-up mess: confusion, frustration, denial, happiness, sadness, and the strongest one of the bunch, chicken shittedness.

  And that is not like me.

  I am so not a chicken shit about anything else in my life.

  I have rock climbed, surfed, parasailed, and bungee jumped. I even drive too fast on a daily basis.

  You’d think this would be easy. But, instead, I feel like I’m jumping out of an airplane without a parachute.

  I mean wouldn’t everyone be a chicken shit about that?

  Jimmy’s comment about cooking with Mr. Perfect cracked me up, but it also gave me a great visual. Maybe I can get Phillip to cook with nothing on but an apron. Or, better yet, maybe I should do that. Do you think he’d notice?

  Well, sure he would: he’s a guy.

  The more important questions are, would he like it, and would he do anything about it?

  I am so hoping that he will give us a chance. I’m also hoping that Moaning Monica will not be involved in this whole affair.

  You know, when Danny told me that he thought Phillip might be getting serious with her, I truly felt like I was going to throw up.

  And that is not a very nice feeling.

  Last week, I went to the bookstore and bought a hardcover copy of Our Town. That’s the play we were reading in AP English when my parents died. I have been thinking about the play lately. I knew that its main theme is for people to remember to stop and smell the roses. I remember promising myself that I would always try to live life to the fullest, and I think I’ve done a pretty good job of it so far. But there was something else from that play that I know I wanted to remember, and I couldn’t seem to remember it.

  I had hoped if I thought about it hard enough, I would remember it in a dream because I do that sometimes, but it didn’t work, so I had to go buy the book and reread it. I’m glad that I did because I like the story, and I found what I was looking for. It was the part that says, “We waste opportunities at every moment.”

  That was the part I was trying to remember.

  And now I see why it’s been bugging me.

  It fits.

  I know that I can’t waste any more opportunities with Phillip.

  I can’t, and I won’t.

  God help me.

  I pull up to Phillip’s house, get out of the car, and knock on the front door. It used to be that I would have just barged right in, but I’d like to think I have grown up some. I take a minute to look around at the houses and the empty lot. In one way, it really doesn’t seem that long ago that I was camping in the back yard, playing dragon fighter with Phillip, catch with my dad, punching Danny in the mouth.

  But, in another way, it feels so very long ago.

  I have so many wonderful memories of growing up here, but I also feel a longing to create a whole bunch of new ones with Phillip. I feel like I’m standing in the doorway of my life, trying to decide if I should go in or not.

  God, when did I become so philosophical?

  I sound like an old sap. Next thing you know, I will be crying and getting out the old videos.

  What in the world has Phillip done to me?

  Phillip’s mom comes to the door. She’s holding a dishtowel and wiping her hands on it. “Hi, JJ! Come on in. I was just finishing up.”

  I follow her into the house and sit on a barstool in the kitchen. The kitchen island is filled with all sorts of tailgating equipment and massive amounts of food.

  “I was just trying to get everything packed before Doug gets home. We decided to drive down to Lincoln and spend the night. The game is early tomorrow, and we won’t have to worry about traffic that way. The Diamonds should have the RV here any minute.”

  Our parents always went to a lot of Nebraska games together. When Danny started school there, the Diamonds bought a big RV to tailgate in. And do they tailgate! You have never seen so much yummy food and excessive amounts of alcohol. When we were in college, Phillip and I always made sure we stopped by before we went to the game. It was often our best meal of the week.

  “JJ,” Phillip’s mom says, “I hope it’s alright with you, I made double batches of everything I cooked for tailgating. I thought you could use it for the party tomorrow. Save you two a lot of work.”

  “Really?” I’m surprised and thrilled about this. She makes great stuff. Plus, I think naughtily, less time working leaves more time for play!

  “That’s so awesome because you know I think everything you make is wonderful. Thank you so much for doing that.” I hop up, give her a sincere hug, and sit back down. “Oh,” I say, practically drooling on the counter, “did you make any of those yummy little sausage puffs?” I love those tasty little things. “And what about that fiesta dip?”

  “I made both of them, dear. I know they’re your favorites.” She smiles at me, like she is about to tell me a big secret, and I realize for the first time that Phillip has her exact smile. “I even went a little crazy and bought some of those red tortilla chips. I hope they taste the same as the regular kind.” She hands me a spreadsheet of all the food she made, saying, “Here’s the list of what’s here and how to cook it.”

  My, she is very organized. I should make lists because it never fails that when the party is over I discover something in the back of the fridge that I forgot to serve.

  I look over the list and see it’s pretty extensive. Barbecued brisket with mini dinner rolls, veggie tray, cheese ball and crackers, cheese dip, Swedish meatballs, sausage puffs, summer sausage and cheese tray, fiesta dip with red chips, Go Big Red cupcakes, and mint brownies.

  “I think I’m in heaven. Go Big Red cupcakes and mint brownies! You’re spoiling me.” And, thinking about them, I say like a little kid who wants cookies before dinner, “Can I have a brownie now?”

  “Sure,” she says, and gets me a brownie.

  I really love this woman.

  “Phillip’s going to have his work cut out for him tonight, just trying to keep me away from those brownies but, other than that, I don’t know what we’re going to do with ourselves all night.”

  Well, I actually do have a few ideas in mind.

  She smiles a knowing smile. I hope that mind reading thing doesn’t run in the family. But I’m worried, because I get the feeling she knows exactly what I just thought.

  “I thought it might be nice for you and Phillip to spend some time together without having to worry about the party.” She pauses and then says, “I have a question for you. Have you and Phillip ever thought about dating each other?”

  I wonder if she already knows about Mexico. I kind of hope not.

  “Um, well, we did talk about possibly dating in May, right before Danny and Lori’s wedding.”

  “And?”

  “And, we kind of had a trial run in Cancun, but things didn’t go very well. We managed to stay friends though.”

  “Did you sleep together?”

  Uh, that is probably not information I want to share with you.

  You are his mother, for goodness’ sake.

  At first, I think I’m not going to answer this question on the grounds that it might incriminate me, but I figure that , in this case, the truth is way cleaner than her imagination, so I tell her the sad truth. “No, we didn’t.”

  There. End of story.

  Now, how ’bout them Huskers?

  But she’s not done with me yet.

  “Have you ever?” she asks in a very matter of fact tone, like we’re discussing the weather and not my sex life with her son.

  Well, lack of sex life, really.

  This is getting a little too personal, don’t ya think?

  But once again, I tell her the truth.

  “Uh, no. Never.” I shake my head no.

  She looks surprised at this news and has a questioning look on her face, like she doesn’t believe me.

  “Hmm.” She has her finger up to her mouth
, like she’s thinking very seriously about something. This ought to be good. “You know, JJ, you girls today have it rough. Back in my day, if you really wanted to get a man to marry you, you just seduced him and got yourself pregnant.”

  This woman continues to shock me. I mean, I’ve never thought of myself as uptight about this stuff, but I gotta tell you, I’m feeling pretty tight right now.

  Like I can’t get any air. I must need some milk, and quite possibly another brownie.

  As I refill my plate, I stammer, “Uh, yeah, but it doesn’t quite work like that anymore.”

  She dismisses my statement with a wave of her hand. “Well, it should. And it would work in Phillip’s case. He has good values and would do the right thing.”

  Is it just me, or does that seem a bit twisted? I mean, if Phillip’s morals were so good in the first place then he wouldn’t be getting anyone pregnant, would he?

  Then I put two and two together and realize this is her roundabout way of, not so subtly, telling me that I should seduce her son and get myself pregnant!

  I’m shocked. Beyond shocked.

  I am, I don’t know, double-shocked.

  Practically speechless.

  No, I am speechless.

  I have my mouth open, and I can’t say a thing. I can’t even take a bite of this brownie. And it has all that yummy, gooey, red mint stuff on the top. I just stare at the piece on my fork.

  It’s like we were playing freeze tag and someone just yelled, Freeze.

  And I did!

  But I don’t have to say anything because she continues with, “You know, I really worry about what would happen, should Phillip decide to marry someone besides you.”

  How did we get to babies and marriage from food?

  And now she’s got him marrying someone else? What’s wrong with her?

  “What do you mean?” I think I must have got lost somewhere, because I’m really not following all of this.

  “Well, you know most of Phillip’s girlfriends have felt a bit threatened by your relationship with him. And I’m just afraid that if he marries someone who feels that way, well, you need to know that I would have to do whatever makes her feel comfortable.”

  Then she pulls out the big guns.

  “We might not be able to include you in everything, like we do now.”

  Oh, that hurts.

  That thought makes me want to cry.

  I look at her with sad puppy dog eyes and say, “You mean if Phillip marries someone else you’re going to kick me out of the family?”

  “Now, JJ, we’d never be able to get rid of you.”

  Like I’m a puppy that she’s thinking about taking to the pound.

  “I am just trying to impress upon you that the situation could prove to be difficult in the future.” Her eyes look warmer.

  Apparently we’re not talking about the weather any more.

  “I’m not sure if Phillip has any desire to date me, let alone marry me. Have you talked to him about any of this?”

  “No, but I know how he feels about you. It’s quite obvious.”

  It is?

  Still?

  She thinks Phillip might actually want to marry me?

  I get a brilliant idea. “You could just adopt me. Then no one could complain, and you wouldn’t have to get rid of me.”

  She’s too quick for me though because she says, “Wouldn’t it just be easier to give it a try with Phillip?”

  “Probably,” I say, telling her the answer she wants to hear.

  I know she’d never shut me out of their lives, but she does bring up a good point.

  Some of Phillip’s girlfriends have had a problem with me.

  Okay. Most of them.

  But I swear I’m always nice to them. So, it can’t be because of anything I’ve done. I mean, most of them seemed pretty nice.

  No, that’s not exactly true.

  I think back and realize that I can’t think of even one girl that Phillip’s dated that I really liked.

  Could all those girls see it in me?

  Was I experiencing latent jealousy all these years?

  No, that can’t be it. I just think the girls realized that if Phillip had to choose between them and me, he would always pick me.

  And he would.

  That’s one of the things I like best about him.

  I suppose it’s time I return the favor.

  Hey, wait, I already did.

  Today.

  I chose Phillip over Jimmy. Yay for me!

  I hear Julie talking to me.

  “JJ, what are you thinking about so hard?”

  “Um, just about what you were saying. You’re right. None of Phillip’s girlfriends have ever liked me much.”

  She smiles big at me. She likes being right.

  “They were jealous of you. Phillip has feelings for you that are very strong, and feelings like that are hard to hide. Ashley told me just the other day that she thinks Phillip has always been in love with you.”

  “I know. I think I’ve always felt the same way.”

  Oh, crap!

  I can’t believe that just slipped out of my mouth!

  She really smiles at that.

  Boy, she is good, that sneaky woman.

  Somehow—maybe she put truth serum in the brownies—she’s already gotten me to admit that I love Phillip.

  She should be an interrogator.

  She’d feed people sweets and have them confessing to everything before they even realized what she was up to.

  I’ve already said enough to incriminate myself, and she is the closest thing to a mom that I have, so I might as well tell her the rest of the truth.

  Cause this is the part that worries me.

  This is the chicken shit part.

  “I’ve been kind of afraid to do anything about how I feel because I don’t want to mess things up and lose him. Lose our friendship. Because that I couldn’t take.”

  She gets out a bottle of wine, uncorks it, and pours me half a glass.

  “You shouldn’t think of it as losing your friend, dear. You should look at it as gaining something a whole lot better.”

  I look at the half glass of wine in front of me. God, she’s got visuals.

  “That’s kind of like the whole is the glass half empty or is it half full thing, huh?”

  She raises an eyebrow at me. I’m afraid if I don’t succumb, she may stoop to torture.

  “I get it,” I say, laughing and holding up my hands in defeat. “Really, I get it.”

  Then she walks over to a bookcase in the family room, pulls a picture frame off the shelf and sets it in front of me.

  The picture is of Phillip and me together as babies.

  We’re naked, of course.

  I wonder if our parents ever stopped to think there might be something slightly wrong about having us naked together all the time. Maybe I need to go to a shrink and have them hypnotize me to pull out my early memories. Maybe it’s their fault I can’t commit.

  I consider saying this for a second, but think better of it and just look at the picture.

  Another visual.

  I have to wonder. Did she plan all this, or is she just winging it? Because if she’s winging it then I need to sign up for lessons on manipulation from this woman. I have always considered it one of my stronger skills, but I realize I’m a total novice compared to her.

  I look at the picture again. You know, this is the first time in my life I haven’t flinched or cringed upon seeing a picture like this.

  God, I must have grown up somewhere along the way.

  I surprise myself by thinking that I now agree with what Mom always used to say.

  You and Phillip are just so adorable.

  We would probably have beautiful children.

  Whoa.

  Wait.

  Did I really just think that?

  I am shocked at the things my own mind has been thinking lately. It’s like it has a mind of its own!

 
I must have been smiling at the picture a little too dreamily.

  “You would have adorable children,” Julie says, reading my mind.

  Evidently that talent does run in the family.

  “That’s part of the reason why I made all the snacks for your party.”

  “So Phillip and I can have an adorable baby?”

  You’ve got to be kidding.

  She laughs. “Well, not exactly. I just thought it would be nice if you could spend some time alone together. I think it would be good for both of you. And, while you’re at it, would you please tell Phillip how you feel about him? That Monica girl drives me nuts.”

  I smile at that. Cuz, me too.

  And then she gets a big smile on her face and adds, “And I guess if I get a grandbaby out of the deal, all the better.”

  I knew she had an ulterior motive.

  This whole conversation is very unexpected and sort of weird, but a lot of her comments hit home. But I really didn’t need any convincing; I had already decided.

  I want Phillip, and I’m not going to let anyone, even Moaning Monica, get in my way.

  Scratch that.

  I am more grown up than that.

  Monica is not the problem.

  I am.

  And this time, I’m not going to let myself get in the way.

  Mrs. Mac looks at the clock and gasps, “Oh, look at the time! Is there anything else I need to take?” She refers to her spreadsheet. “Summer sausage. I almost forgot. JJ, will you run out to the garage freezer and get two packages of summer sausage?”

  “Sure.” I mean, it’s the least I can do.

  So I go out to the garage. They have one of those huge chest style freezers. The kind that you can fall into and never be found, until someone else needs something frozen.

  I hate these things.

  And, of course, I see that the summer sausage is at the very bottom in the back.

  Figures.

  I’m leaning over, bent practically in half, trying to reach it.

  And the stupid garage door is open. I hear blaring music coming from up the street. I recognize one of my favorite songs.

  Great. It’s getting louder. I suppose the new cute neighbor boy is gonna drive by and see my butt stuck clear up in the air like this. Not a pretty picture.