I had to swallow several times before I could manage to say, “This was not the answer I was expecting.”
“I reckon so, you look surprised.” He seemed amused by the look on my face. But he wasn’t quite finished with his explanation. “Now that Jess is married to Duane, she has Liam, and the Winstons are a big family. I know she’ll be supported and taken care of. But, like I said, I don’t like the idea of you being alone when your mom and I go. You need community, you need people. Sure, you need someone to take care of you, but I suspect—more than that—you need someone to take care of. And that’s part of the reason I think you’ll make a great sheriff. You’ll have lots of folks to take care of.”
Emotion clogged my throat and instinct had me pushing out a weak joke. “You planning on dying soon?”
“No, no.” He leaned forward, his forearms resting on the back of the chair. “But look at my sister. She died of an unexpected heart attack. Tina’s mostly by herself now. Sure, we invite your cousin over for dinner, but she doesn’t come. She doesn’t have people anymore. We try to be there for her. But watching her is like watching a lost baby bird.” He paused, sighed, then added, “I don’t want that for you.”
“I’m not a baby bird.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“I know that’s not what you’re saying. But you don’t have to worry about any of this. You’re going to be here for a while.” If I said it multiple times, I felt like I could trust it more.
“Am I? We can’t know that. Look at what happened to Bethany Winston. She gets a cancer diagnosis and six weeks later she’s gone, leaving all those kids without a mother.”
“Dad. All the Winstons were grown when she died.”
“But they’re still orphans. When you lose your parents, no matter how old you are, you’re an orphan. I know something about that. And I don’t want you being on your own when it happens,” he said, straightening from his chair and walking over to me.
“If you feel like you need to follow Rae to LA, if you think that’s where you need to be, where you can do the most good, then you have my blessing. But think about what I said.” Hesitating for just a split second, he set his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze, his palm warm and steady. “As your grandfather used to say, ‘Seeds sown in dread never bloom because fear makes for shallow soil.’”
Chapter 28
*Raquel*
“If you haven’t cried, your eyes can’t be beautiful.”
Sophia Loren
I didn’t call Jackson on Sunday.
If I didn’t call him, if we didn’t speak, then we were still technically together, and he couldn’t break up with me. Also, I didn’t want to make an idiot of myself and beg him to give me another chance. But let’s be honest here, regardless of when it happened or how dry my eyes were at that moment, I was going to burst into tears and beg him to give me another chance.
“Are you okay?” Dave asked, holding very still at the entrance to my room, his tone cautious. “Will you eat? I think you should eat. Don’t throw anything.”
I pressed my face against my pillow and said, “Erm sseriefer dungth at.”
“What?”
Fine. I’ll lift my head.
“I’m sorry for doing that. It was highly unprofessional, and I was completely in the wrong. Please accept my apology, and I understand if you feel you need to seek alternate employment. I will be happy to offer a severance and assist you—”
“Oh, stop it. It was two throw pillows. They’re literally called throw pillows. I mean, come on. Sheesh.” In my peripheral vision, I saw Dave stroll into the room. He held a mug and a plate. “And I might’ve been a little bit of an asshole, so . . . truce?”
Flipping onto my side, I stared at him. “Are you kidding? A little bit of an asshole? You were a GIANT asshole.”
He shrugged, taking another step inside the bedroom and sitting on the end of my bed. “Yeah. I guess I was. But somebody needed to say something.”
“‘Don’t fuck this up, Rae. Whatever happened, I’m on Jackson’s side.’” Sitting up in my bed, I deepened my voice to quote Dave’s asshole statements from yesterday—when I’d woken up to find Jackson gone without a word and Miguel and Dave giving me dirty looks over coffee.
So, yes, I’d yelled at Dave. And then Dave had yelled at me. And we both made big hand movements and crude gestures. And then we’d yelled at each other, and I threw pillows at his head and slammed my door, and now here we were, Monday morning, and I couldn’t seem to move. I’d spent all day Sunday in bed, hiding from the world, convinced that the moment I turned on my phone, I’d get a breakup text from Jackson.
Except, he wouldn’t break up with me that way. Jackson—being Jackson—would show up in person, and probably bring roses and coffee. He would sit me down and be all gentle and kind about it, staying with me until he was certain I’d be okay. He’d probably also give me a pep talk, a motivational speech about how great of a person I was and how he’d keep me in his prayers. Then he would check the oil and tire pressure of my loaner car as he left.
He was the best. God, I love him. PLEASE DON’T LET HIM BREAK UP WITH ME!
Dave lifted the plate he held toward me. It contained grapes and carrots when all I really wanted was cake. A whole chocolate cake. A big, giant, double chocolate frosting laden chocolate cake with a giant glass of cold whole milk. No fork. I just wanted to shove my face in it and become one with the cake.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the plate from Dave. It wasn’t cake, but he was right. I needed to eat something.
“Are you ready to talk about what happened?” he asked, quickly following it with, “I promise, I won’t judge. I’ll just listen.”
I popped a grape in my mouth, not tasting it as I chewed. “I messed up,” I said simply.
I had messed up. I wasn’t sure what I’d said that had made Jackson so angry and distant, that had made him sleep on top of the covers Saturday night instead of beneath, that had made him careful not to touch me as we lay together, both of us not sleeping or talking, but I must’ve said something.
I’d fallen asleep just before dawn. When I awoke, he was gone, and I felt certain he hadn’t kissed me goodbye. If we get through this, I’m going to institute a rule: he has to kiss me goodbye.
“What did you do? How’d you mess up?” Dave handed me the mug.
It resembled the freshly juiced concoction of greens that my chef back in LA made me for breakfast—celery, cucumber, spinach, parsley, and ginger—and suddenly I was glad my taste buds weren’t working.
“I’m not sure, to be honest. But I know I messed up.” I took a gulp because I knew it was good for me even though I’d never particularly liked it.
“Okay, take me through what happened.” Dave turned and placed a leg on the bed, bent at the knee in front of him. “Harrison left, Sienna came over to get something out of the closet while Miguel and I finished up helping Jethro—he was making raspberry jam, I brought some over—and then we walked back to the house. The next thing I know, Jackson is leaving your room looking like his world has ended.”