Linden: I'll hold you to that.
Jasper: You'll also hold me to a tree.
Linden: Any day.
"Maggie, he's still texting," Ash said. "When was the last time he even replied to one of your texts?"
I wasn't the best with phones. They were all too small for my hands and finicky. As much as I could get away with it, I ignored mine, often leaving it in the kitchen or in my truck. I'd removed all the notifications and alerts. I had to go looking for messages if I wanted them and I liked it that way. Jasper though…talking to her was a different story.
"When I asked if you two wanted me to pick out a Mother's Day gift from all of us," Magnolia replied.
I glanced at her. "Did I ever pay you for that?"
She gave me one of those bright-eyed, stiff-lipped smiles. "Nope."
"Sorry."
"You can make up for it by telling us the true story of your very special friend Jasper," she said. "She's, like, famous. How did you—just, how? That's what I need to know. How did this happen?"
"She's not famous because she wants to be." I studied the field for a moment. "That was a bad situation for her. With that senator."
"I mean, that much is apparent," Ash said. "But you have to recognize the humor in it too. She decimated the guy's chances as a presidential candidate and she did it in three minutes. That's pro-level GOAT status."
"It was incredible," Magnolia said. "It was everything I'd ever wanted to hear about those crusty candidates. They try to come off all polite and principled but they're just dirty old men who sit around smoking in their underwear while their staff tells them everything they need to know."
"Yes, and the way she pulled the curtain back on the truth about candidates who are running but aren't in it with any intention of seeing it through?" Ash said. "I'd always suspected that but she just laid it out in the open." He shook his head like he still couldn't believe it. "What's she doing next? She could start a no-bullshit, underbelly of politics podcast or—"
"We're not doing this." I pushed to my feet and filed out of the row. "Nachos?" I asked, pointing to Magnolia. "Anything else?"
"Lin, sit down," Ash said.
"No, I need nachos," Magnolia wailed. "You can sit down once I have a snack. Oh, do you guys think you could get beers and let me be near them? I just want to smell beer. That will be enough."
Ash held out several bills. "Whatever they have on tap but you should know we like Jasper."
Magnolia nodded, her hands resting on her belly. "We do and we're genetically required to ask all kinds of nosy questions because you introduced her to us and—"
"Mom made that happen," I interrupted. It seemed like this was important to note. "She showed up at my place—"
"Oh, god," Ash murmured.
"And Jasper had just stepped out of the shower. So, Mom jumped to every possible conclusion—"
"Wait, are you not sleeping with her? Because that was definitely the vibe I picked up at the house last weekend." Magnolia shot Ash a meaningful glance. "Tell me I didn't imagine that."
My brother shrugged. "All I will say is I told you so."
"You're such a smug bastard," I said.
"Wait. What did you tell him?" Magnolia asked.
"The day Jasper arrived, and she had some difficulty getting into her aunt's house—"
"Ash thought she was a burglar," I added.
"We offered her some assistance," he continued, fully ignoring me. "And I told him to be nice to her."
"You said 'don't be an ass.'"
He bobbed his head. "I advised you to help her out and resist your natural tendency toward being an ass because—"
"Because you helped Zelda and now you're getting married," Magnolia sang. "Awwww. Oh fuck, I'm crying. Linden, dammit, this is all your fault."
"You should get those nachos," Ash said with a pointed glance at our sister.
As I waited in line at the concession stand, I snagged my phone to check on Jasper again. I didn't need to check on her. I knew she was fine, and seeing as she'd hung up the baking mitts, there was little threat of the house burning down.
I just wanted to talk to her.
Linden: Ash and Magnolia are pretty much obsessed with you.
Jasper: I find that hard to believe.
Linden: They'd rather spend the night with you than me for all the questions they're asking.
Jasper: …what do they want to know?
Linden: How you got to be so awesome.
Jasper: Very funny.
Linden: I'm serious. They're co-presidents of your fan club.
Jasper: Not sure what to say about that.
Linden: Say that for all the shitty things that have happened recently, there are people who think you're amazing.
Linden: Before you ask, yes, I'm one of them.
Jasper: You're just saying that so I'll be naked when you get home.
Linden: I have zero objections to your being naked, preferably in my bed, but you know I don't say anything just for the hell of it.
Jasper: That's true.
Linden: You also know I don't need to compliment you to get your clothes off.
Jasper: Also true. Not sure what that says about me.
Linden: It says you follow directions on selected occasions.
Jasper: Again, I'm wondering what that says about me.
Linden: Only the best things.
Jasper: How long do these baseball games run?
Linden: This one should be over in an hour. Two at the most. Traffic adds another hour. Maybe less.
Jasper: Okay.
Linden: Should I expect to find you in my bed?
Jasper: Expect me on your wifi. Where I'm parked while I use it is a different story.
Linden: Good enough for me.
I returned to our row, drinks and snacks balanced precariously on top of one another, and forced Ash to serve as Magnolia's nacho holder.
"It's good practice for you," I told him.
He snickered. "I have five years in the pocket before Zelda even looks up from her fieldwork and doctoral defense work. You'll be waiting on the pregnant wife before I will."
Reflex told me to disagree but longing told another story, one that blindsided the shit out of me. I could see it. I could see a ring on Jasper's finger as she pressed a hand to her belly, I could see us turning the den into a nursery, I could see us hiking through the woods with a baby strapped to my chest.
I had to thank the Red Sox for hitting one out of the park at that moment because my brother would've seen right through the vision detonating in my head. Not wanting to give him another reason to say "I told you so," I smothered it all with some well-earned celebration.
I'd let him be right about everything another time.
"Since we're not allowed to talk about Jasper, can we talk about this anniversary party?" Magnolia asked when we sat back down. "The one Mom and Dad planned for two weeks before I hit full term for twins?"
"What do you want to talk about?" Ash asked.
"Many things," she replied, "but first off, how about the fact those two hippies are throwing themselves a two-hundred-guest black-tie affair at a country club? Do they even recognize what they've done?"
"Not sure I'd go as far as that," Ash said. "It's a big party. Your wedding was a big party."
"My wedding was a glorious, blessed event," she replied with a sniff. "And, I will note, this is all your fault, Ash."
"That cannot be true," he said. "I did nothing."
She pushed to her feet and screamed at the umpire about his eyesight until the batter on base turned to stare at her, his mouth hanging open and his brows pinched high in shock. My sister always came to these games armed with some colorful commentary.
"Sit down, sit down," Ash said. "I promised your husband I wouldn't let you get too worked up."
"I don't know why Rob thinks you're going to prevent such a thing at a playoff game, especially one with that douche bagel of an ump."
"M
e neither," he muttered.
"Anyway, can we just talk about them throwing a black-tie party? When we were kids, Mom wouldn't wear anything aside from hemp dyed with natural colors. Remember that? And she used to make bags from woven grass? Come on, you have to remember that."
"I remember the grass belts," Ash said. "Those were heinous."
"It was impossible to get them unbuckled in time. The number of near-accidents I had in kindergarten was outrageous," I said.
"And now we're having a fancy-pants party at a country club," Magnolia said. "It's almost like they've forgotten they were earthy-crunchy socialists once upon a time."
"Do you think that's just what happens as you grow up?" I asked. "Do you gradually reshape your ideals as time passes?"
Was that even possible? Was it a matter of bartering away your ideals or finding new ones that fit better? I didn't know but I had the sense people weren't supposed to be one stationary, static thing their entire lives. People were supposed to live a lot of lives in their time on this planet. They were supposed to reinvent themselves and reevaluate their beliefs. They were supposed to look back and shake their head at the things they did before they knew better. They were supposed to get all the second chances.
"Or is it more a matter of going into semiretirement and filling your days with golf?" Ash said. "I don't know about Mom but that's what happened to Dad."
"Mom fell down the rabbit hole with the first pair of Tory Burch sandals I bought her. It's a slow-growing addiction but it's a brutal one."
Ash and I glanced at her and then each other.
"I want you two to promise me you'll do the heavy lifting so I can sit in a corner with my feet up. You know, assuming I haven't popped by then."
"What do we need to lift?" I checked my phone one more time but didn't see anything new from Jasper. "Shouldn't the venue take care of all that?"
"I don't think she's referring to the furniture, man," Ash replied.
"I need you two mingling. I need the ladies in your life mingling. Shield me from having to engage in small talk with all of Mom and Dad's friends who will offer endless childbirth and parenting advice while this one"—she pointed to her right side—"separates my ribs, and this one"—she pointed to the left—"dances on my bladder. Do this for me and I'll take care of the anniversary gift from all of us."
"You're going to do that anyway," I said.
"Maybe." She shrugged. "I definitely won't forget to add your names if you promise to let me sit this one out."
Before I could say anything about my desire to protect Jasper from those two hundred guests and everything they'd heard about her on cable news, Ash said, "We've got it. Just keep those babies cooking until the day after the party, would you?"
"It doesn't work that way, Ash. I can't just squeeze my legs together and hold my breath."
"I mean, yeah, sure," he replied. "But you can still try, right?"
"You're going to be just adorable when Zelda's pregnant, aren't you? An adorable little nut that just needs to be bashed over the head a few times."
Ash glanced at me, asking under his breath, "Is she being serious? I don't know."
The game ran the full two hours I'd estimated and my sister required me and Ash to accompany her to an ice cream shop that served up scoops in bubble waffle cones. She also required each of us to order cones for ourselves—but plucked those cones from us and claimed them as hers the minute we sat down. Thankfully, her husband arrived soon after Ash texted him our location and he took over Magnolia's ice cream needs.
Ash departed for Zelda and their Haymarket apartment and, for the first time in all the sporting event outings we'd shared as siblings over the years, I was eager to return home. I didn't want to steal a few more minutes with Ash and Magnolia, didn't want to laugh over ice cream or grab another beer while watching the game's highlights. I wanted to go home to Jasper, and that—that hit me as hard as the vision of her married to me.
It was late when I arrived home and Jasper was already tucked into bed, her hair gathered in the same nighttime bun she favored. There was something enchanting about that bun, the one she wore in private, liminal moments. Maybe it was that I knew about the bun and that was the enchanting part. I wasn't sure.
The best part—the absolute best, no substitute in the world—was finding her asleep in one of my flannel shirts. She had the cuffs rolled up and left the top few buttons open, and was there anything more perfect? I didn't think so.
I undressed and climbed into bed beside her, not bothering with any form of pajamas. No need. Jasper arched against me when I pulled her to me, a soft, sleepy murmur greeting me when I ran my hand up her thigh and found her ass beautifully bare.
"That's my girl," I rumbled, grabbing a cheek and giving it a thorough kneading. "Good and ready for me."
She replied with another murmur but there was no mistake about the way she wiggled her lower body into my lap. A condom came next and some strategic organization of pillows and legs as we settled into this side-by-side position. Then I pushed inside her, snaked a hand down the front of her shirt, groaned into her hair. We moved together in languorous thrusts and echoing sighs that skated the line between dreaming and waking.
There was no rush to find the end, not when we could float in this heavenly in-between.
I reached for Jasper's hand, the one busy squeezing my upper thigh, and shifted it between her legs. "Show me," I ordered, my fingers over hers. "Show me how you do it when you're alone."
"When I'm alone," she started, veeing our twined fingers over the place where I moved in her, "I lie back and let a toy suck my clit and another work my G-spot." She brought our fingers up to the hood hiding her pearl. "Don't see why I should have to do all the work when I can play with toys instead."
I closed my other hand around her breast, her nipple pinned between two fingers. "Will you show me that?"
A purr rolled through her that I felt in my bones. "Maybe. That might be interesting."
My hips jerked in a messy, erratic rhythm. "Might be?"
That gorgeous, piercing moan of hers filled the room and I knew we were close to the end, the in-between space behind us now.
"I doubt you can sit back and watch. You'll last two minutes before taking over. You'll want to show me the right way to do it."
That sent me shifting to my knees, both hands gripping her hips, turning her until she was flat on her back. "Isn't this better?"
She went on teasing her clit with luscious circles that made me want to fuck her and lick her and kiss her and bite her all at once. That made me want to keep her.
"It's different. It's totally different," she said, her head tilting back into the pillow.
"I guess I'll have to see that for myself." I pumped into her, fast and reckless now, like she was mine to break. That was the singular thought in my mind as her body clenched around me, sucked me in, held me prisoner.
"Does that make you jealous?"
"Of your toys? Not in the least. They're my coconspirators, Peach. Not my competitors."
"Ohhhh. I like the sound of that."
When I caught hold of my release, I caught another flash-forward, this time with Jasper in a wedding dress. As I filled the condom, I leaned into her, my lips pressed between her breasts to prevent myself from saying something premature. Something permanent.
As soon as I was able to walk steadily, I headed into the bathroom and straightened myself out.
This was the wrong time to run away with wild ideas about marriage and—Jesus Christ—babies. I'd told myself for years I didn't want any of it and I had to remember that some good times with Jasper wasn't meant to change anything. I preferred a solitary life. I didn't want anything else. Marriage and kids weren't the paths for me. Too complicated, too messy, too tenuous.
I believed that as devoutly as I believed in the religion of nature. And yet, when I gathered a sleeping Jasper into my arms and closed my eyes for the night, I thought about all the lives we were allowed
to live with the time we had, and I whispered into her hair, "I wish you were mine to keep."
20
Jasper
I dropped two slices of bread into the toaster and asked, "Do you happen to have a nail gun I could borrow?"
Linden belted out a tremendous belly laugh from behind the Sunday newspaper. As he set it down on the kitchen table, he gave me a fond smile that did terrible, terrible things to me. Just the worst. "Why do you think you need a nail gun?"
"I don't think I need one." I frowned down at the cherry tomatoes on the cutting board in front of me. "I know I need one. It's going to take me two years to finish the porch if I have to bang every single nail into place. A gun would make it much quicker."
"Also quicker to nail your hand to a board."
"I wouldn't do that."
"No one thinks they're going to shoot themselves with a nail gun. It's always an accident, Jasper." He shook out the newspaper, folded it in half and then in half again. "Why not work on something else?"
"I've done everything else. Generally speaking."
"What does that mean?"
I fussed with the burrata and basil for a minute. "It means I've cleaned out most of the house and done most of the work I can do on my own. You know, without a nail gun."
The Belle and the Beard Page 22
