“But why?”
“I’ve never missed your confetti toss. I wasn’t going to start now,” I say but realize that might not be what he’s referring to. “I meant to talk to you about this when I got here, but then—”
“We had pizza,” he says with a smirk.
“Yes, we did. Anyway, I want to apologize for basically blowing you off since Bid Day. It’s been so busy, and everything is new. It’s overwhelming. I thought I knew the campus fairly well from going to games, but I didn’t have a clue really where the classrooms were. Add to that, trying to figure out where to eat anything slightly healthy. Dealing with a new roommate. A new sorority. I have been so busy every second of every day. The sorority was actually kind of pissed I was coming home this weekend, but I didn’t care. I needed to be here. I wanted to see you. I’ve wanted it since we talked.”
“I’ve wanted it, too,” he says.
“You could have messaged me, you know.”
“I could have,” he says, hanging his head, “but I didn’t. I figured if you wanted to talk to me, you would reach out. And it would have been hard for me if I had messaged you and you didn’t reply.”
“That’s part of why I haven’t. If I’m going to talk to you, Chase, I want it to mean something. And random texts couldn’t say what I was feeling. But trust me, I think about calling you every single night.”
He nods, but I can see the hurt in his eyes.
“I realize now that surprising you for your birthday might not have been that smart. I’m assuming there’s a party and that you have plans with Lacey today.” Something I didn’t think about when I jumped in my car with my sack of things and drove off.
He gives me a grin. “I am having a little celebration”—he glances at his watch—“and we’re leaving in about thirty minutes.”
“What kind of celebration?”
“Golf, followed by dinner at the club.”
“With all your friends?” Somehow, I just can’t picture that.
“Nah. I just wanted something low-key. I get more than enough time with my friends between football and school. With the little kids, we don’t get a lot of one-on-one time with our parents, so I thought it would be fun if it was just my mom and dad, your dad and Jennifer, me, Haley, and Damon. Really, it’s perfect that you’re here because you’ll round out our foursome.”
“Lacey isn’t joining you?”
“She has a cheer competition and is out of town all day.”
“Bet she wasn’t too happy about that,” I say even though I. Am. Thrilled.
“She wasn’t, but it helped that I wasn’t having a party or anything. So, will you join us?”
I kiss him in reply.
He leans back and grins at me. “I take it, that’s a yes?”
“It is. But I have to run upstairs and get ready. See you in a few, birthday boy.”
I shower off, thankful for the braid last night, and brush out my waves. I throw on a little makeup, put on a golf skirt and polo, pack a dress to change into for dinner, and grab my golf shoes.
I’m over at the Mackenzie house with five minutes to spare.
When I get there, I find my dad and Phillip sitting at the kitchen table, chatting, and see that Chase is just coming down the stairs.
And it’s like he dressed just to torture me, wearing full-on black. Black golf polo and black shorts. The only color on him is from the neon green on the golf shoes in his hand and the logo on his polo.
I’m transported back to that summer.
Damon and Chase came in through the deck doors. Both were dressed up. My brother had his bangs flipped over to the side, and he looked cute, wearing a white button-down and a pair of khaki shorts with loafers. Chase, on the other hand, did not look cute. He looked scorchingly hot.
His long bangs were pushed up in the kind of artful mess of hair that made a girl want to run her hands through it.
His tall frame was encased in a black T-shirt that hung in a way that only high-quality cotton could. Black shorts covered the important parts with a black belt and black shoes finishing the look.
I had never, ever, ever—wait, maybe once at Halloween when he was nine and decided to dress like a vampire—seen Chase in all black.
And it was devastating.
He didn’t look like my best friend anymore. He looked—dare I say—a little bit bad. Like he’d gotten an edge.
And my goodness, was it working.
And it’s still working. Possibly even more so now. Because Chase is taller, broader, and older. And I think that he hasn’t shaved because there’s just a light scruff on his face that is only adding to the devastation in my heart.
I literally might pass out.
“Chase,” my dad says as he approaches the table, “your father and I want you to come downstairs with us.”
I look at them.
“You can come, too, Dani,” Phillip says.
My dad and Phillip go down the stairs first, and as we follow, Chase touches the small of my back and whispers, “You look cute.”
I blush and tell him, “Thank you.”
We’re led toward the bar, specifically to a humidor made of shiny burled wood that has sat in that same spot for as long as I can remember.
“We thought it would be fun to share a cigar on the course today,” my dad says, cuffing Chase on the shoulder, and I can see the love and respect they share.
“Since you’re legal and all,” Chase’s dad adds, tossing Chase a key. He tosses it like it’s no big deal, but I can tell, it totally is.
I want to ask if I can have one, too, since I’ve been legal for a while, but I get the impression this is sort of a rite of passage that they want to share with him. Celebrating his transition into manhood or something, so I keep my mouth shut and just watch. Our dads are beaming with pride as Chase puts the key in the lock and opens the box.
I’ve never seen inside of it, and Chase must not have either because he reads aloud the engraving on the gold plaque inside, “Phillip and Jadyn. Our love is worth celebrating. January the 13th.”
“A little background before you choose a cigar,” his dad says. “This humidor was your mother’s gift to me on our wedding day. I think you’ve heard stories, and you know that your mom’s parents, Danny’s parents, and my parents were all good friends. They did a lot of the things we do today to celebrate life—eating meals together, having a few beers, and talking. And Jadyn’s dad used to say he was celebrating something when he smoked cigars, mostly so his wife wouldn’t complain about the smoke.”
“What they taught us,” my dad says to Chase, “is what your mom had inscribed. That love and life are worth celebrating. Even everyday life.”
“And it’s what we’ve been trying to teach you kids,” Phillip says, “and what we hope you teach yours. It’s not about the possessions; it’s about the people you love. Your family, your friends, the people who make your life a little brighter. Because just being with them is reason to celebrate.”
I was getting choked up, just watching their exchange, but when Phillip says that, the tears I’ve been holding back fall from my eyes, and I realize that although they’ve definitely led by example, I’ve been doing life all wrong for a while now. I’ve been focusing more on impressing the people I don’t care about rather than the people I do.