by Devney Perry
“I’m not going anywhere.”
And she didn’t.
Willa sat stoically on a barstool all afternoon and evening, keeping a watchful eye on the door the entire time. Right beside her was Hazel, who’d come down minutes after Thea’s phone call.
“You should go home,” I told Hazel. It was one in the morning and she was yawning every other minute.
She yawned again. “I think I will. I’m too old to stay until closing anymore.”
“Thanks for coming down.” I leaned across the bar and kissed her cheek.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I told you, I’m fine. It was just a shock.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but I refused to talk about my mother’s surprise visit.
Thea had given Hazel all the details earlier, then the two of them had sat and ranted about it for a couple of hours. They’d pestered me for a while, wanting to talk about my feelings, but I’d told them I was fine.
I think Willa must have said something to the pair at one point while I’d been in the kitchen because when I’d come back out, the topic had been dropped completely.
Thea had left the bar shortly before dinner to go home and eat with Logan and Charlie. Hazel and Willa had stayed to eat here with me and bullshit with the random tourist who’d plopped down in the seat next to them.
“Will you call me immediately if she shows up?” Hazel asked, standing from her seat.
If? More like when.
I had no doubt Mom would be back, but I wasn’t going to play her games. “If she shows up again, I’ll keep kicking her ass out the door until she gets the hint.”
Hazel frowned, dismissing me and turning to my girlfriend. “Willa, will you please call me immediately if that woman shows up again? I have some things I’d like to say to her.”
Willa just bit her lip, trying not to smile.
“I see how it is. You’re on his side now.” Hazel gave me a pointed look as she slung her purse over her shoulder. “Don’t forget I have spies everywhere, and I’m going to have my five minutes with that woman.”
“It would just be a waste of your time.”
Mom’s face hadn’t held an ounce of remorse. She could have earned five minutes with me, but she hadn’t said the magic word. Sorry.
“I’ve got nothing but time these days, Jackson. And I don’t want to talk to her because I think she’ll hear a word I say. Telling her off is for me.” Hazel gave me a sad smile. “And you.”
“Fine.” I sighed and gave her a nod. “I’ll call.”
Hazel had earned the right to a confrontation with Mom years ago when she’d stepped in to take Mom’s place.
“Stop by and see me tomorrow.” Hazel gave Willa a hug. “You too.”
“We will,” Willa said. “Have a good night.”
“Do you want another beer, babe?” I asked as Hazel walked out the door.
Willa shook her head. “Just water.”
“I’ll take another beer.” The tourist who’d been sitting on Hazel’s side held up his empty glass. Then he moved into the seat Hazel had just left to sit next to Willa. The guy had already had four beers, but he didn’t seem too drunk, so I poured him a fresh glass.
“Be back,” I told Willa, winking at her before leaving to check on the other customers.
The Friday-night crowd had mostly cleared out, but there were still a few people lingering over by the pool table and jukebox.
The pool table was a newer addition to the bar. Hazel and her parents had kept one for years before I’d moved to Lark Cove, but it had been so beaten up that she’d decided to put it in storage. Thea and I had dug it out about a year ago and gotten it refurbished.
Our customers loved it, but the only downside was that it kept people in the bar later at night. The group playing tonight still had a whole stack of quarters lined up and it didn’t look like they’d be leaving anytime soon.
All I really wanted was to go back to Willa’s place and spend the rest of the night forgetting all about this day while I was buried deep inside of her.
Because she had the power to make it all better.
I stuttered my step as I walked, crushing a peanut shell. Willa had power over me. Even in a positive light, it was still power. The realization scared the hell out of me.
I’d been relying on myself for so long I wasn’t good at leaning on anyone else. I didn’t want to be at anyone else’s mercy, even if it was just to give me comfort.
I glanced over my shoulder and took a long look at Willa’s back.
Maybe I was getting too close. I’d started this whole thing with Willa because I’d just wanted to get to know her. I’d wanted to date her for a while until we got bored with one another.
But I wasn’t bored, not in the slightest. The more I was around her, the more I wanted her.
Maybe I’d gone too far already. I didn’t want to get married. I didn’t want kids. I was good with Charlie because I had fun uncle written all over me, but being a husband and father was a whole other story.
I didn’t have that kind of love in me to give.
When Willa and I got to that point in our relationship, when we talked about the future, she’d see pretty damn quick we didn’t have one.
Maybe I should let her go now, before that point?
Not yet.
We were still having fun. I’d delay a serious conversation for just a little while longer. Then I’d let her go.
I shook off the feeling and finished checking on my customers. Behind me, Willa was still sitting at the bar.
I’d miss catching glimpses of her long blond hair as I worked. I’d miss having her at the bar every night, talking to me about nothing. I’d miss having her in my arms at night, chasing away the loneliness that I’d lived with for so long.
But it was right to let her go. Eventually. She deserved a guy who could love her like she deserved.
Willa must have felt my eyes on her because she looked over her shoulder and smiled. Then she turned back around to the guy at her side.
The guy smiled at her and scooted his stool a little too close to my girlfriend.
I scowled at his back, hoping he felt my glare, but he just kept on talking to Willa.
She nodded as he spoke. She didn’t move farther away. She let him bump her shoulder with his.
A jealous haze coated my vision as they laughed over something he said.
Why was she laughing with him? She was supposed to be here for me tonight, not to flirt with some random tourist. Had they been like that all night?
I’d been too busy to pay them much attention. And Hazel had been between them for most of the night. Had they just been biding their time until she’d left them alone?
My jaw clenched tight as I cleared off a table. With two empty beer bottles in my hand, I went back around the bar and threw them, hard, into the trash can. They shattered instantly.
Willa jumped, startled by the noise. She looked at me, worried, but the guy next to her said something else and stole her attention. She laughed with him again. She gave him her smile.
Fuck this day.
Things had gone downhill since french toast, starting with my meeting with Thea.
I knew eventually she’d suggest we bring in some extra help. But this had been our place for years. Just her, me and Hazel. Bringing in someone new was a change I didn’t want to make, even though I would.
I’d already been irritated by the time Mom walked through the door. Now Willa was laughing with this guy.
When we parted ways, she’d probably end up with his type. He wore nice jeans and a starched shirt with sleeves worn down to the wrists. His hair was styled and he probably paid someone to trim it every two weeks. He had an Audi keychain and a gold money clip.
I’d never owned or would ever own a fucking money clip.
Fuck this day, I was done.
“Last call!” I shouted.
The crew around the pool table all grumbled, so did Will
a’s newest fan, but I ignored them all. The angry glares I sent around the room were enough to have people downing their drinks, dropping a few bucks for a tip and heading out into the dark night. The tourist at Willa’s side was the last to slither out, but eventually he left after a longing glance at Willa.
Asshole.
“Did you drive down or walk?” I asked Willa once the place was empty.
“I drove.”
“Good.” I nodded. “Grab your stuff. I’ll walk you out.”
“What?” she asked. “Don’t you want some help cleaning?”
I shook my head. “No. I need some space tonight. You go home. I’ll catch you later. Tomorrow or something.”
I ushered her to the door, like I’d done with my mother. Except my touch was gentle and light on her elbow rather than the firm grip I’d had on Mom.
Damn it. Had I hurt Mom? What if I’d left a mark? I’d never lost my temper with a woman like that before, and shitty mother or not, I wasn’t that guy.
“Jackson.” Willa pulled her elbow free and stopped at my side. “What are you talking about? You’ll call me tomorrow or something? What is that supposed to mean?”
“Just like it sounds,” I snapped. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Or sometime. I don’t know. I’ll see you around.”
She frowned, stepping closer to touch my arm. “Don’t do this. Don’t push me away because of what happened today. If you want to talk about things, I’ll listen. If you don’t, then we don’t have to. But shoving me out the door and saying you’re going to call me ‘tomorrow or something’ isn’t the answer. Let me help you.”
“Then what is the answer, Willa? Huh? Because you didn’t seem to be helping me much when you were flirting with that guy earlier.”
“Flirting?” She stepped back, her forehead furrowed. “What are you talking about? I wasn’t flirting with that guy.”
“Sure looked like it to me.”
“He told me a joke and I laughed. I might not be as experienced as you, but even I know that’s not flirting.”
“Whatever.” I walked to the door and pushed it open.
Willa stared at me for a moment, frozen to her spot. She couldn’t believe I was kicking her out either.
“Jackson,” she whispered, pain crossing her beautiful face.
“Night, Willa.”
She stared at me, tears sheening her eyes, until finally she dropped her gaze to the floor and hurried outside to the dark, deserted parking lot.
I stood in the doorway watching as she jogged to her car, making sure she got inside safely and onto the highway to go home.
“Fuck,” I hissed. My hands fisted at my sides. “Fuck!” My shout disappeared into the night.
I’d made Willa cry all because I didn’t know how to deal with the emotions swirling in my head.
I went right back inside for my keys, bringing them back to lock up, then went straight to the liquor bottles. I didn’t care that there was a dirty tumbler on the center table or bottles next to the pool table. Fuck the pint glass that douchebag had been drinking from while he’d sat by Willa.
Fuck it all.
Fuck the feelings, all of them. I’d burn them away.
I popped the pour spout off a bottle of tequila and put it right to my lips to chug.
The tequila became an eraser.
I didn’t want to remember Mom’s face or her voice. I didn’t want to remember how alone I’d felt when she’d abandoned me.
I didn’t want to remember Willa’s eyes full of tears.
I didn’t want to remember any of it, so I gulped down some more booze, shot after shot.
Walking home wasn’t an option. I’d pass Willa’s staircase and there was no way I’d be able to resist going to her soft bed. I wouldn’t be able to resist pulling her into my arms and falling asleep with my nose buried in her hair.
So I didn’t walk home.
I got drunk and passed out on the pool table knowing that I’d just fucked up the best thing that had ever happened to me.
“What do you think?” I asked Dad.
Dad sighed. “I think you just need to be patient. I don’t agree with how he reacted, but I do understand.”
After Jackson had kicked me out of the bar last night, I’d come home only to toss and turn for hours. I hadn’t slept as I’d replayed things over and over. None of it made sense, so I’d come to Mom and Dad’s first thing this morning for some coffee and advice.
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” I didn’t care what Jackson had said, I had not been flirting with that guy at the bar. I didn’t even know how to flirt.
“No, you didn’t.” Dad patted my knee. “But Jackson’s guarded, honey. Seeing his mother couldn’t have been easy on him, and I can see why he’d lash out. Give him a chance to realize he messed up.”
It didn’t surprise me that Dad’s advice was to cut Jackson some slack. Dad was the most understanding person on the planet.
We were sitting at the dining room table, staring out the big sliding glass door that went out to the back patio. Mom was in the kitchen doing the breakfast dishes. She’d escaped after we ate, leaving me and Dad alone to talk.
She’d always done that. She let Dad tackle the tough conversations because the outcome was always better. I loved Mom, but her forward approach usually just made me cry. I loved that she knew it too. When it was something really important, she’d always weigh in. She made sure Dad knew her position and opinion.
But she left the delivery up to him. She recognized that Dad and I were kindred spirits.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime.” He sipped his coffee, looking across our yard to the playground beyond.
Had Jackson walked home last night? Had he even cared at all when he’d passed this way? Had he hesitated, wanting to come apologize? Or was this the end?
My eyes filled with tears just thinking about it.
I was so angry at him. How could he accuse me of flirting with another man? Didn’t he see how much I cared? Didn’t he see that I only had eyes for him and had for years?
I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I wanted to pound my fists on the table because it was so unfair.
But I didn’t. I silently took another sip of my coffee and stared blankly at the yard.
Jackson may have treated me badly last night, but it hadn’t changed my feelings toward him. If he knocked on my door right now, I’d forgive him instantly. Unless he did something truly nasty or spiteful, I’d always be there for him.
But I wasn’t going to chase him.
If he still wanted me, it was his move to make. I deserved an apology.
Sniffling, I wiped my eyes dry and focused on the playground. It was cold this morning and the grass was covered in white crystals. I was studying the frozen blades just as a man came down the sidewalk on the far side of the playground.
A man wearing a green plaid shirt, faded jeans and black boots, the same thing he’d been wearing last night.
I sat up straighter, leaning forward as I watched Jackson walk.
Dad spotted him too because his posture matched my own.
Jackson was walking past the playground with his eyes aimed at the sidewalk. His hands were stuffed into his jeans pockets. His shoulders and neck were bunched.
It was as if he was trying not to look over at my house. He looked like he was forcing one foot in front of the other while his face pointed stoically to the cement.
Temptation must have gotten to him because about halfway down the sidewalk, he glanced over once. After two steps, he glanced over again.
My heart was pounding as I watched his indecision. Step. Glance. Another step. Another glance.
Would he stop? Would he go home and call me “tomorrow or something?”
Stop, Jackson. Just stop.
The tears came back as he kept walking. He wasn’t going to stop.
He’d almost reached the corner of the school, where he’d disappear from sight, when he slowed, his st
ride about half its normal distance. He took two more shuffled steps before his feet halted on the sidewalk. His chest heaved with a long sigh before he turned on a heel and stepped onto the grass.
I let out a little cry, the relief causing a tear to fall.
At my side, Dad put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Then without a word, he stood and left the dining room.
Jackson made the trek across the playground quickly. The closer he got, the faster he seemed to walk, and by the time he crossed into our backyard, he was jogging.
Before he reached the stairs to my apartment, I opened the sliding glass door and stepped outside. I closed it behind me, crossing my arms over my chest to tuck my hands in. The wood on the deck was freezing against my bare feet and the cold air gave me goose bumps, even under my bulky sweater and thick jeans.
“I’m over here,” I called.
Jackson’s face whirled from the garage to me and his feet immediately changed direction. He didn’t slow down as he ran over to the porch and bounded up the steps, coming right into my space.
His chest crashed into mine and his arms closed around me tight to keep me from falling.
The moment I was in his embrace, the tears came back.
Jackson didn’t speak as I cried into his shirt; he just held me, resting his cheek against my hair. I felt his apology in his strong arms and racing heart. I felt it as each one of his breaths got easier and the tension left his back.
It was the best sorry I’d ever had, even better than the one he’d written me on a Post-it.
I burrowed into his shirt, wrapping my arms around his waist. My hands, still cold, slipped beneath the loose hem of his plaid shirt and into the back pockets of his jeans.
We stood there, holding each other, for a long while until behind me the door slid open and Dad’s voice broke through the silence.
“Come on inside, you two. It’s cold. Jackson, would you like coffee?”
“That would be great,” Jackson said over my head. “Thanks, Nate.”
I kept my arms tight around Jackson even as Dad moved back inside the house. But the door was still open, letting the cold into the house, so I reluctantly let him go.
