His eyebrows were suspended on his forehead. “Did you already forget your promise? The jam session?”
“Are you kidding? I can’t go now.” I paced back over to him gesturing wildly in the general direction of the Green Valley Community Center. “I can’t show my face there. It’s not just bringing shame to the county office that I’m talking about. Charlotte just broke up with me last week, now everyone is going to think it’s because of Rae. They’re going to think I’ve been stepping out on her.”
I’d have to call Charlotte and explain about Rae somehow. Without divulging too many details. I knew she’d forgive me, she’d probably even laugh about the whole thing. Except, she wouldn’t be laughing when folks started asking her how she was doing and whether she was hanging in there, like they’d done after Kevin left. Their pity pissed me the hell off, and just the thought made me sick to my stomach. She already had enough shit to deal with.
“You promised you’d come tonight.” Cletus held up a warning finger. “And besides, it’s phase two of the plan.”
“What plan?”
“You’ll find out tonight. Just. . . dress nice. But not too nice. And do your hair, but don’t make it stiff. Make it look done, but natural.”
“No one is going to care about my hair!” I yelled, feeling myself edge closer to losing my temper.
“I care about your hair, Jackson,” he said stiffly, lifting his chin like I’d offended him. “See? You’re wrong. I. Care.”
I narrowed my eyes on Cletus as he marched past, his boots crunching the gravel underfoot. I may have been at my wit’s end, but that didn’t mean I had a call to be rude.
After swallowing around stones in my throat, I hollered after him, “Hey. Thank you, Cletus.”
“For what?” he asked, still marching.
“For interceding with Mike. For having my back. For helping me.” For being a good friend.
“I just pointed out the obvious to Mike, which made his job easy and saved him a lawsuit. Oh. And one more thing.” He turned to walk backward. “They’re releasing a joint statement, and you’ll be censured—or reprimanded or whatever it’s called—for wearing your uniform in public while off duty. And that’s about it. So get back to work.”
That would not be it, as Cletus well knew. Maybe that’d be the official word on the subject from the department, but it was unlikely I’d be forgiven by anyone at the station for a while, and there was no way this would be forgotten.
Don’t get me wrong. People in Green Valley and the surrounding county were good folks. But the only thing that lasted longer than grudges around here were memories.
Chapter 13
*Jackson*
“If one person in a thousand criticized me while all the others cheered, I didn’t hear the cheers.”
Dorothy Dandridge
I pulled up to the community center at exactly 7:30 PM. I parked, I exited my truck, and I walked toward the entrance.
On the way over, I’d decided to rip this bandaid off. I would not wallow or wait, I’d accept the cold shoulders, snide comments, and trails of whispers—as was my due.
I’d just come from the disciplinary meeting with Mike, acting as my Association representative, and my father, acting as my sheriff. Maybe this explained the intense determination I currently felt to slather myself in punishment and condemnation.
During the meeting, I’d told them the truth of what had happened insomuch as I deemed necessary while also protecting Rae’s privacy. I’d explained that Ms. Ezra and I were acquaintances. I’d informed them that the kiss hadn’t been premeditated. Mike had asked if it had been reciprocated and whether the sheriff might be expecting a complaint from Ms. Ezra. I’d told them that it had been reciprocated but suggested they reach out to Ms. Ezra to confirm. Mike had said that they would, thanked me for my candor, and reiterated for us all that I’d been off duty at the time.
It was at this point that I’d interrupted. “Mike, while I appreciate what you’re trying to do, I was there on a call. I was on duty.”
“There’s no record of a call coming through dispatch or on the radio, son. And you couldn’t have been on duty because your shift ends exactly ten hours after you clock in.” Mike had given me a patient, paternal smile at this point and then slid his gaze to my father. “And I know the sheriff isn’t making calls over unofficial, untraceable channels. Furthermore, I know the sheriff would never expect his hard-working deputies to exceed the hours allowed by our collective bargaining agreement. Isn’t that right, Jeff?”
My father—leaning back in his chair, his elbow propped on the arm of it, his index finger along the side of his face, his thumb under his jaw, the rest of his hand covering his mouth—had stared at Mike coolly, but he hadn’t said a single word.
“Well. There you go, Jackson. We all agree. You were off duty.”
I didn’t agree.
I’d done it. I’d admitted it. And I was willing to take responsibility for it—all of it—and I’d hoped that counted for something. But watching my father watching me, disappointment heavy behind his gaze, I knew it counted for nothing.
Presently, as I crossed the parking lot of the community center, ready to be ostracized by everyone, I couldn’t shake the ache in my chest. I knew from experience that it would be a while before it would ease, and even longer before it dissipated completely.
But I also reminded myself that I’d gotten off easy. I told myself that if I didn’t want the ache, if I didn’t want folks treating me like the town pariah, if I didn’t enjoy being labeled as the town player, maybe I ought to stop acting like one. Maybe I should—
“Psssst! Jackson!”
Coming to a stop, I twisted to the left and right, scanning the parking lot for the origin of the sound and ended up stumbling back a step when I saw her. “Rae?”
She stood at the corner of the building under a floodlight, wearing a long, flowy orange dress with thin straps. Her hair was in braids, her features bathed in bright light, and she was waving at me to join her. “Come over here!”
I didn’t think about it. I jogged over. As soon as I made it around the corner, she took a step backward, her eyes big and searching.
“Hi,” she said, a small smile playing around her full lips.
“Hi,” I said, out of breath, and not because of the short jog.
Then an odd thing happened. For maybe the first time in my life, knowing I’d done something to disappoint my father, the thought entered my mind, It was worth it.
Kissing Rae had been worth it. More than worth it. Even if I’d been fired, the kiss would’ve been worth it. My father would eventually forgive me, I could always get another job, but there’d never be another Rae.
Suddenly, she threw her arms around me, pressing all the generous curves of her body against mine. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry.”
Instinctively, my arms came around her. She felt so good, warm and soft and right. “You don’t need to be sorry.” The ache in my chest I’d been carrying all day alleviated, just simply dissolved, and I set my chin on top of her head, inhaling her sweet floral scent. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”