“So you’re just going to go on this way forever?” asked Riley incredulously. “Keeping her a secret and hoping nobody will notice that you duck out of town for the weekend - what, once, twice a month?”
“At least,” acknowledged Jackson. “Sometimes three weekends a month if we can swing it. And I know it can’t last forever. She’s going to graduate next spring and has no idea where she’ll land a job. If it ends up being on the East Coast or Midwest we won’t be able to see each other nearly as often. Plus, she may not be ready to settle down anytime soon. She’s, uh, sort of on the stubborn, opinionated side, and very independent.”
Riley gave a hoot of laughter. “So not your usual type at all, huh? I mean, no offense, but Devon would have gladly done whatever you asked of her as long as there was something in it for her. Like that engagement ring she wanted. In fact, most of your women always fawned all over you, practically worshipped the ground you walked on. Does this mean your current - uh, Vivien - isn’t like that?”
“Not even a little,” replied Jackson matter-of-factly. “To say Vivien has a mind of her own is putting it mildly. And you can’t woo her with gifts or sweet talk or even sex. She’s one tough cookie that one. Had a lousy time of it growing up, too. One of the reasons she’s so independent and set in her ways.”
“But you love her anyway. I can tell from the tone in your voice.”
Riley’s quiet statement caught Jackson a little off guard. Oh, he’d known for some time now that he cared deeply for Scarlett, probably even loved her. But to hear someone else state the fact so casually but so confidently made it all seem so real.
“Yeah,” admitted Jackson a little gruffly. “Despite the fact that she can be a royal pain in my ass most of the time, I’m crazy about that girl. Head over heels in love. Problem is, I’m scared shitless to tell her.”
***
Early December
“So Thanksgiving dinner was okay for you?”
Scarlett nodded, chewing a slice of the deep dish pizza they had decided to order for dinner. Initially they had planned to go out, but after Jackson’s flight from Phoenix had been delayed for almost two hours they had opted to eat in, especially since it was pouring rain and windy outside.
“Yeah, it was good. Holidays are always a little weird at Ananda’s, especially since most of the meal is vegetarian stuff that tastes even worse than it looks, plus some of her friends are kind of far out there. But Isaiah insists on having a turkey on Thanksgiving and some sort of meat at Christmas. He goes along with her on just about everything else but he sets his foot down once in awhile. Thank Christ, because there was no way I was putting any of that disgusting nut loaf in my mouth. Ananda is a great baker, though, so the pies and stuff were out of this world. No booze, unfortunately, since both of them and most of their friends are recovered alcoholics and addicts. Spiced apple cider doesn’t have the same kick as a nice glass of Pinot.”
Jackson grinned as he toasted her with the very fine vintage he’d opened to accompany their dinner. “Thank God there was plenty of booze at my parents last weekend. Not sure I could have gotten through the five hour ordeal otherwise.”
She shuddered. “Was it uber formal? Like different fancy courses on different fancy dishes, that sort of stuff? You didn’t have to wear a suit and tie, did you?”
“Yes to the first questions, no to the second. Oh, no jeans and T-shirts and boots allowed, more like business casual, but still too formal for my liking. I think I would have enjoyed dinner at Ananda and Isaiah’s way more, even without the booze. But at least Hannah was happy to have the whole family with her. Even had second helpings of mashed potatoes and stuffing. Here, have a look.”
Scarlett took his phone, smiling at the photo of her half-sister digging into her heaped dinner plate. “She looks good, put on a little more weight. And her hair has really begun to grow out, all those little corkscrew curls. It’ll be down to her chin by spring. Is she going to be able to attend school in January?”
Jackson shook his head. “Unfortunately not yet. Doctor Parks is happy with her progress, but still leery about sticking her in a classroom with thirty other kids, not to mention all the other students and teachers she’ll pass by. Hannah’s immune system is still pretty fragile, so even though she’s ticked off about it she’ll have to do home study for the rest of this school year. Better be safe than sorry, you know?”
“Yeah, I guess so. But I feel for her, too. Must be tough at her age not to be around her friends, to be missing out on stuff like football games and homecoming dance and all the other crap teenagers seem to thrive on.”
“Hmm.” He topped off both of their wine glasses. “I’m going to guess that you weren’t like most teenagers, though. That you didn’t care one way or the other about that sort of stuff.”
“Your guess would be correct. Oh, part of that’s because the charter school I went to didn’t really have sports teams or a lot of social events. More like robotic competitions and music recitals and art exhibits. But the few events they did have like dances and such didn’t appeal to me in the least. I have mentioned the fact that I’m a rabid anti-socializer, right?”
Jackson chuckled. “A few times, yes. So why are you empathizing with Hannah about having to miss all that stuff if you scoff at it?”
She shrugged. “From the little I know about her, she just seems like a little social butterfly. And I don’t mean that in a catty way. She seems friendly and happy and well adjusted, the sort of person who would naturally attract friends and get along with everyone. The total opposite of me, in other words.”
He squeezed her hand. “You could have been more like her if you’d been given the chance,” he assured her pensively. “If Neil had taken an interest in you. Hell, his parents - your grandparents - would have jumped at the chance to take you in, raise you as their own if he hadn’t stepped up. You might have - ”
Scarlett held up a hand to forestall whatever he had been about to say next. “No. Don’t tell me that sort of stuff, okay? Because I’ve already tortured myself at least fifty different times imagining how differently my life would have turned out if my father had acted like a man instead of a scumbag. So let’s change the subject, okay?”
“Okay.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes, though Jackson could tell by the way her jaw clenched every so often that the topic he’d so unwisely brought up still weighed heavily on Scarlett’s mind. He cursed himself for being so stupidly insensitive, and thought desperately of a way to distract her.
“I, uh, sort of told my best friend about you,” he mumbled. “Not your name of course, or where you lived, or any other personal information.”
She arched a brow in surprise. “Is this the best friend you’ve mentioned who can’t hold his liquor?”
Jackson grinned. “That would be the one, yep. Riley does like to party hard, and he can get shitfaced faster than you can blink an eye. He’s also got a big mouth, can’t keep a secret to save his life, which is why he knows the very, very basic facts about you. Just in case my father or one of my brothers gets suspicious enough to try and grill him about what he knows.”