Emmy and Meadow, and then Jude and Meadow, had won the advanced and freestyle divisions, and Aaron and Bear came in third in advanced. The club had a rare sweep of the main events, which made the day super exciting for everyone . . . except Logan. I’d babbled all the way home about all the wins, but he’d been very quiet. I could tell he was happy for me, but after my initial excitement, we went back to being awkward. Which hurt and confused me.
And then there’s Jude. I’ve seen him several times this week, and I do like him, but he seems to want to take things faster than me. I’m starting to have the feelings of doubt that always creep in after a while when I get to know a new guy. He’s too this, or not enough that, and I’m not sure he’s quite right.
But . . . the clock is ticking. Not my body clock. I hate that expression. Plenty of women a lot older than me marry and have children. I mean that my birthday is in two weeks, and I’m starting to wonder if I’m being too darn picky. Jude really is sweet . . . and there’s daunting item ten on my list.
I’m supposed to be falling in love with someone. Why did I put that on there? Because I’d been twenty-five at the time and assumed it would be easy by the time I was thirty. Stupid Stevie.
Mom swings into the driveway a few minutes late and harried as usual. She’s already talking before I even get the door open.
“So sorry, Stevie Sunshine. I could not get out of bed this morning. I was up late working on a contract, and you know I need at least seven hours.”
“I know. It’s okay.” I kiss her cheek. “I’m sure Tam and Dean won’t mind. Do you know where they’re going? They didn’t tell me.”
It’s their last Adventure Thursday of the summer, so I assume it will be something extravagant. I’m planning to take Jazzy to the museum, and then out back to the park to play in the fountain and eat a picnic lunch.
“No, I have no idea.” Mom answers quickly. A little too quickly.
I glance at her. Why in the world wouldn’t she tell me where they were going if she knew? I have no idea. I don’t know much these days.
We pull into the driveway, and I get out, then stop, head tilted. Logan’s car is here. I look at Mom and point at it with a questioning expression.
She shrugs, but a way-too-innocent expression takes over her face. “I have no idea why he’s here, hon. Let’s go in and find out.”
Inside, the living room is mysteriously empty. Tamara, Dean, Jazzy, and Logan are nowhere to be seen. I walk toward the kitchen with Bean trailing and almost have a stroke when they all pop up from behind the kitchen island.
“Surprise!”
I grab my chest and step back. “What the heck is going on? What are you doing here, Logan? Surprise for what?”
“It’s your birthday, Aunt Stevie! But I want to go on Adventure Thursday, too.” She whines the last part and grabs her dad, peering up at him hopefully.
Dean groans. “We’ve told you, Jazzy. They wouldn’t let you. You’re too young and you don’t weigh enough. And even if you weren’t either of those, Mom and I wouldn’t be comfortable letting you skydive yet.”
I gasp. “We’re going skydiving?”
Tamara swats her husband. “Dean, you ruined it.” She turns to me, shaking her head. “Surprise! We’re taking you skydiving for your birthday. Mom’s babysitting Jazzy and Bean. We’re all going, and Logan already paid for your dive, so you can’t back out.”
I cover my mouth and gasp. “Oh, thank you! But it’s so expensive. Are you sure?” My eyes find Logan.
He smiles his familiar smile, and the warmth I see there reassures me. He wants to do this. For me. For my bucket list birthday. What an amazing friend he is. I hug him, holding on longer than I probably should. When I pull back, everyone is staring. I move away quickly.
“What do I need?” I say.
“To get in the car!” Tamara says. “We have to get up to Longmont. Our safety training starts in an hour and a half.”
I kiss Bean on the head and hug Mom and Jazzy. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome,” Mom says. “Have fun and oh, Logan, get that video that you said the company will take. Don’t forget! Lamar and Jazzy and I want to see it!”
“You got it,” Logan says, winking at Mom and high fiving a still pouting Jazzy. “Ready?” When he holds out his hand hesitantly to me, I take it.
“This is so incredible,” I say. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.” He squeezes, and I squeeze back, and I feel a surge of love for him. He’s my best friend, no matter what. This has been a hiccup. Relationships have them.
Outside, Tamara and Dean throw a bag into the back of their minivan and argue about which route to take to the Longmont airfield, so we have a private second or two.
I study my friend. “What’s on your bucket list, Logan? I’ve never asked.”
He smiles softly and helps me into the back of the van. “I’ll tell you one of these days.”
“Taking I-25 to the Longmont exit is best, love, like they said on the website,” Dean says from behind the wheel as we get on the road.
“No, babe, if we want to avoid traffic, we should go toward Boulder and take 287 up and then over to Longmont,” Tamara argues.
“You guys have the sweetest arguments,” I say.
“Best way to stay married.” Dean says to me in the mirror. “Don’t worry, you’ll see.”
I snort. “Sure about that? I’m no closer to finding a husband than I was at Jazzy’s age.”
Dean guffaws, and Tamara smacks his arm again, harder this time. She shoots him a warning look, although I’m not at all sure what he’s done wrong. Logan looks out the window.
The ride to Longmont takes a little over an hour. We get there in time to use the restroom, grab a drink of water, and report to the briefing room. The safety video takes about half an hour, and then we’re introduced to our instructors. We each have our own, because we’re doing tandem jumps. Mine is Seth, a burly, bearded, tattooed guy, and Logan has a wiry older man named Mike.
Tamara and Dean meet their instructors, and together, we decide that they’ll dive first, so we can watch them for a minute or two, and then Logan and I will go. Supposedly, we’ll all land near each other. I hope.
“Here.” Logan hands me my hoodie and jacket out of his backpack. “I brought you these. They said it can be cold at 18,000 feet, even in summer.” He hands me my layers, and our fingers brush together. His eyes warm again. “Excited? Number two on your list is nearly in the bag.”
“I’m so excited. And so touched. Thank you for planning this.”
Something flares in his eyes . . . an intensity . . . like he wants to say something important, but he turns away, patting the front pocket of his jeans as if reassuring himself something is there.
My nerves kick in around the time we’re fitted for jumpsuits and Seth shows me our shared parachute rigging. He assures me he’s already checked it thoroughly. He’ll wear it and engage it when it’s time. I’m responsible for me and my borrowed safety goggles. But that makes me more anxious, in a way. I have zero control of this situation. I excuse myself to use the restroom one more time.