by Magan Vernon
“Thanks, Joey,” Mom said with a hesitant smile.
“See you later, Abs,” Joey said, leaning in and kissing my cheek. Giving me a half-hug, he was too sweaty, and I had to hold my breath from the stench of BO.
“Bye, Joey,” I said, still trying to determine what the hell was going on.
I watched Joey hop off the porch and pull his phone out of his pocket, staring at the screen and typing frantically as he walked toward the front of the house. It wasn’t until he was out of sight that I turned toward Jordan, raising an eyebrow. “What the hell is this pissing match all about?”
Jordan laughed with a shrug. “I don’t know. I guess the guy thinks somehow he can win you back?”
“You have to admit; it’s the nicest Joey’s ever been,” Mom mused.
I groaned. All I wanted to do was sleep, but now, I had a headache to match my exhaustion. Jordan sensed my frustration and put his arm around my shoulders. “Wanna see what I did with the pond?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Jordan started down the path, and Mom called after us. “Don’t be too long. I have a gluten-free dinner in the oven! Hopefully, Jordan isn’t allergic to this one!”
I smiled. “That doesn’t sound appetizing at all,” I whispered.
“Hey, she asked if my allergy was to gluten, so I didn’t deny it, exactly,” Jordan said, shrugging as much as he could with his arm around me as we walked down the crepe myrtle-lined path to the pond.
The overgrown brush and grass were now trimmed down, and I gasped once the clearing and pond came into view. Instead of the falling apart dock, a new platform at least six feet longer replaced the old one, complete with a small pergola and some Adirondack chairs, just waiting for someone to sit a spell and enjoy the still sounds of the night while watching the sunset over the TL Ranch.
“Jordan! Did you and Joey seriously do all this?” I asked, staring open-mouthed from the dock to Jordan.
Jordan smiled, walking toward the dock as we stood on the wooden boards that didn’t creak underneath us like the old ones had. “Well, not Joey.”
I took a seat in one of the Adirondack chairs, running my hands over the smooth, sanded wood, and Jordan sat in the other. “You did all this?” I whispered, staring at him wide-eyed.
“My grandparents had these chairs and the pergola in the back of the house that they weren’t using as well as some old boards I needed to clear out of the barn. I thought it would be perfect out here and figured I owed you for breaking the old ones, so I brought these by today. I didn’t expect Joey to be here or for your mom and Dave to put us to work,” Jordan said with a laugh.
“This is seriously amazing, Jordan. I can’t believe you did all this.”
Jordan scooted his chair closer to mine. “Believe it. Well, take it as asshole tax for me leaving for so long.”
“I probably owe you something for what happened last night …” My voice trailed.
Jordan smiled, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m feeling better now, but I’m still a little sore, so none of that making up tonight. Why don’t we just sit here? Catch up on the past four years.”
He took my hand and intertwined our fingers.
“You want to talk?” I asked, raising my eyebrows and realizing we hadn’t done as much talking as we had either arguing or making out since he’d been back.
“Talk or sleep. Since you look like you’re about to pass out on me.” Jordan laughed.
“Do I look that bad?”
“You never look bad, Abbey.”
I squeezed his hand. “Flattery may be your strong suit, but I know you’re lying. You couldn’t have gotten much sleep either.”
“Yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I did some work at my grandparents’ and loaded the truck with that stuff. I knew you were working the late shift, so I thought I’d get this done this afternoon and surprise you.”
“And then you were surprised by Joey?” I asked.
He laughed again. “Yeah. He showed up after I got this done and said he wanted to talk to you, so your mom suggested since I was already sweaty and he was in work clothes that we help out with the garden. And two hours later, here we are.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You two worked on that for two hours?”
“Yeah. Joey’s not much for manual labor. I could have probably finished it a lot sooner by myself.”
“I don’t know how that guy does anything with his parents’ company. If he were my son, I’d probably fire him,” I said with a laugh.
“Yeah. That and his phone was going off like crazy.”
“He does love his phone,” I grumbled.
“Still can’t believe you two were actually a thing. Or that he wants you back.”
I shrugged. “I guess he figured since I took you back, he’ll have a chance once you leave.”
Jordan squeezed my hand. “But that’s not going to happen since you’re coming with me.”
I let out a deep breath. I did some research today on my phone when it wasn’t as busy at work. Rent in Brooklyn was a hell of a lot more expensive than around here, but I did have a lot of money in my savings since I didn’t go to school and had been living at Mom’s forever. I could easily pay rent on an apartment for a year or more without needing to work a full-time job. There were also a lot of photographers in the area I could intern with and some cool little hipster coffee shops and bakeries that would be great to work in part time. The thought of all of it excited and terrified me at the same time.
“Yeah. If you get your grandma’s house done.”
Jordan smiled. “Actually, it’s getting a lot closer. Almost everything is cleared out now, and I figure it should be cleaned up and ready to sell by the end of August. I’m going to take a few things back in the truck with me to New York and get a topper on the back, so nothing blows out. I can definitely pay a month’s rent fixing up and selling some of the stuff I found in the barn.”
“That soon?” I asked, the hair on my arms standing on end even though it was probably still ninety degrees out.
“Yeah. Is that a problem?”
I swallowed hard. “No. I’ll just need to figure out something with work. I need to tell Carla I’ll be leaving and the studio. I’d have to move some senior portraits up, but I’m sure the parents wouldn’t mind.”
Jordan jumped out of his seat, grinning. “You’re serious? You’re not backing out?”
“Um. That’s what I said?”
I squealed as Jordan grabbed me by the waist and pulled me out of the chair, spinning me around.
“Jordan! Put me down! You’re gonna break your new dock!” I yelled.
Jordan set me down, the grin still on his face as he held my waist and pressed his forehead to mine. “This is all I’ve been dreaming about for the past four years. You. Me. New York. Now, it’s finally coming true,” he whispered against my lips.
“I didn’t know I was your dream,” I murmured.
“You always have been and always will be. And now, we both get to make our dreams a reality.”
Chapter 13
My days were spent at the bakery. I told Carla, the owner, that I would be leaving at the end of August. She was sad but had understood this wouldn’t be a forever job for me. I also emailed the photography studio and told them I wouldn’t be back for this school year. If things failed with me and Jordan in New York, I didn’t know what I’d return to. But it was hard to think of anything but happiness when all my free time was spent wrapped in his arms.
I could still smell him on my t-shirt that morning at the bakery. When it was slow, I found myself messaging photographers in the Brooklyn area to see if they were interested in taking on an assistant. A few had even answered me already and seemed excited to meet me at the end of August.
Everything was coming together. Soon, my life as the Forever Sweet Bakery clerk in Friendship, Texas, would end, and I’d be Abbey Dillinger, New Yorker.
“What’s so good on your phone that you didn’t hear the bell ring
?”
I gasped, almost dropping my phone on the floor as I looked up to see Christy leaning on the counter.
While I was always a hot mess with flour in my hair and stains on my t-shirt and apron, Christy and Teagan were always my put-together friends. Sometimes, I think they just hung out with me to make themselves look better. Of course, Christy was also petite and could pull off her little crop top and floral maxi skirt with her long, glossy hair falling in chunky strands down to her shoulders. If I would have worn my hair down, it would have been caked with sweat.
“Sorry, Christy,” I muttered, stuffing my phone in my back pocket.
I hadn’t told the girls yet that I planned to go to New York with Jordan. I’d have to sometime, but I just couldn’t decide when. It didn’t seem like something one should tell their best friends via text, and I hadn’t seen them much in person lately.
“Well, you can make it up to me this weekend. I hope you didn’t forget my birthday weekend bash,” Christy said, raising her thin eyebrows.
“Of course not!” I waved my hand even though I totally did forget.
Every year, the second weekend in August was about Christy’s birthday. Her parents always threw her the biggest party at the ranch, and it was the highlight of everyone’s year. Now I just had to determine what to get her as a gift this year and to spring on her that I’d be leaving shortly after her birthday.
“I decided to have a theme this year. We’re going retro to when we born and having a 1990s theme party. You know like all those old movies like American Pie and Can’t Hardly Wait where the high school kids threw these amazing keggers and somehow never got the cops called on them?” Christy asked, waving her arms in the air.
“Yeah, I’m familiar with those.”
“So you and Jordan have to come and make sure to be dressed in a good costume. I’m thinking of going Cher Horowitz, Clueless style with a plaid blazer and mini skirt. I wonder if the costume shop in Dallas has that,” Christy said, tapping her manicured nails on her chin. “Oh! Maybe you, me, and Teagan could dress as TLC! That is if that bitch ever texts me back. Do you know what her deal is anyway?”
I wanted to tell Christy all the shit Teagan had said about her, but I wasn’t going to be the one to burst her bubble. It’s not like I’d talked to Teagan or Christy much lately. So I just shrugged instead of saying anything. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her much either.”
Christy smiled. “Because you’ve been busy with Jordan, which, by the way, I’m totes jealous of how cute you two look together. It’s good to see you smiling and so happy.”
“Thanks, Christy,” I said because I wasn’t sure how else to respond.
She was right, though; for the first time in a long while, I was truly happy. I hadn’t smiled or dreamed this much in a long time. Everything seemed like it was finally coming together.
“Okay, now I need a caramel latte if you can get out of your little sex-induced daydreams to make it,” Christy said with a giggle.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, my God. I’m not that bad.”
“Whatever you say. As long as you two don’t get it on at my party and Clay has to clean sperm off the barn door.”
That comment got even Brooke to look up from her laptop.
“No, you can’t put that in a book,” I yelled as I grabbed the espresso.
“Duly noted,” Brooke said, giving me a thumbs-up.
“You do know that’s Clay’s sister, right?” I asked Christy in a whisper.
“Of course, I do. He bitched about her moving out and in with her boyfriend until Noah moved in, and then he stopped the bitching as much.”
I raised an eyebrow, pouring the milk for her drink. “You and Clay talk that much? Are you sure I’m not the only one with sex daydreams?”
Christy’s face turned a bright shade of pink; the first time I think I’d ever seen the girl blush. “Shut up!”
I turned on the warmer, the sound drowning us out so Brooke couldn’t hear. “Oh, my gosh! You like Clay Carrington! That’s why you two were flirting at the bowling alley!”
“Shhh!” Christy put her finger to her lips and motioned behind us at Brooke who was staring at her computer, but I was pretty sure she was listening. She told me that even though she had an office at her house, she liked to come to the bakery for people watching and book inspiration.
Once the milk heated to one hundred and forty degrees, I stopped the steamer and poured it over the espresso in the cup before adding a few pumps of caramel. “You know we’re going to have to discuss this, right?”
“I don’t think we do,” Christy said as I handed her the latte.
“Is he going to be at the party?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“He does work there …”
“Maybe that could be your chance to tell him how you feel, and if he rejects you, just say it was something you said after too many tequila shots.”
Christy rolled her eyes. “You have some ridiculous ideas. You know that?”
I smiled. “But you’re still thinking of using them.”
She sighed. “We’ll see. And I’ll see you and Jordan on Saturday, okay?”
“Saturday. Definitely. Wait. Shit.” I squeezed my eyes shut then opened them. “We’re supposed to have dinner at my dad’s.”
Christy opened and closed her eyes. “Your dad’s? He and Barbie eat?”
“I know. It’s crazy. Jordan and I ran into them at The Harbor, and Jordan agreed to have dinner with them.”
“Well, if you’re going to their place, you’re definitely going to need to come by after and get shitfaced. I’ll save a bottle for you,” Christy said, offering a small smile.
“As long as it’s a strong bottle and off the top shelf.”
Christy laughed. “You got it.”
***
Jordan’s grandpa’s truck had rolled onto the gravel driveway way before it was even close to time to leave for dinner at my dad’s.
I peered out the front window then opened the screen door, staring at the usually sexy guy in jeans or shorts with his plain t-shirt. But today, he donned a flannel shirt and a trucker cap that sported some random saying that I think was on an MTV show.
“What the hell are you wearing right now?” I asked.
Jordan grinned, holding his arms out. “What? You told me Christy’s party was a nineties’ theme. I’m prepared.”
I stepped onto the porch. “First off, I think that’s more 2000s with the trucker cap, and second, Christy’s party isn’t until after we go to my dad’s, which isn’t for another few hours.”
He took a few steps forward and took off the trucker cap, placing it sideways on my head. “Then I guess you’re just stuck hanging out with me, and I’ll have to take off this shirt.”
“Jordan! You’re here! Are you talking about taking off that shirt so you could till the garden?” Mom asked, cockblocking and stepping outside to stand between on us on the porch.
“No, ma’am. Sorry. Just here to pick up Abbey.”
Mom raised her eyebrows. “Oh, and where are you two going?”
Jordan tilted his head and looked down at me. “Take it you didn’t tell her?”
Mom laughed, waving her hand. “About Christy’s nineties’ party? Oh, I knew that. I’ve known about those damn parties since y’all were kids. I just didn’t think y’all would be going this early.”
I winced, knowing what was coming next and didn’t need to see Mom’s judgy eyes. “We’re having dinner at Dad’s,” I muttered.
“Oh.” Mom’s words fell flat.
“We ran into him last week at The Harbor, and he invited us. I didn’t want to tell you and upset you. Hell, I didn’t even want to go, but now Dad’s been texting me and …”
Mom put her hand up, cutting off my words as she shook her head. “It’s fine. He’s still your father, I guess.”
“Not a very great one.”
Mom sighed. “Yes, but he is. And as much as I don’t like the man, I
can’t fault you for wanting to see him. I can also understand why you’re bringing this guy as your wingman.” She pointed her head toward Jordan.
“Yeah, shows how much of a wingman he is, showing up early. Probably to make sure I don’t back out,” I mumbled.
“Well, Jordan, Godspeed to you with this one,” Mom said, putting her hand on his shoulder and squeezing.
He laughed. “This is why I’m here early. Thought if I could take her to some places in Dallas and Plano first, she couldn’t escape me.”
“As long as you two are up for it. How’ve your allergies been anyway, Jordan? I felt so bad after that dinner. I’m so glad you didn’t get that rash again after I made that casserole. I’ve never worked with almond flour before, but with a lot of salt, it wasn’t half bad.”
That was the overstatement of the year. It tasted like dense cardboard and chicken, but I wasn’t going to tell Mom that or that Jordan wasn’t allergic to gluten.
“Thanks, Mrs. Dillinger. I always appreciate you looking out for me,” Jordan said with a smile.
“You just look out for my daughter. If things get hairy at her dad’s, you get her out of that. Okay?” Mom eyed him seriously.
Jordan nodded before giving her a quick hug. “Don’t worry. I got her.”
***
“Where are we going anyway?” I asked as Jordan backed out of my driveway.
Jordan smiled, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “Well, as much as I trust your fashion sense since I had to find this old shirt and hat at the thrift store, I figured you didn’t have much for nineties’ gear and needed something to wear tonight too.”
“I’m sure Christy would understand if I showed up in this,” I muttered, running my hand along my floral tunic and black leggings. I even wore my hair down for once, which Mom appreciated. I was pretty sure with my makeup and the immense amount of product in my hair to keep it from turning into a frizzy fro, I still wouldn’t be as done up as my beauty queen stepmother. The former Miss Dallas who was also my dad’s former assistant, turned knocked-up mistress, turned stay-at-home mommy and lipstick seller. Not that I was holding a grudge or anything.
