Chapter 13
thirteen
. . .
Indi
T he story is hard to hear, like I always imagined. I wanted to stop him halfway, but I got the sense that he needed to tell it. Jameson has been internalizing that awful day, keeping all the details to himself and even convincing himself that it should have been him, that he should have died that day instead of my dad. Knowing he thought, all this time, I wanted it to be him and not my dad leaves an ache in my chest that seems to have settled there for good. And if I really thought back to those dizzying days after my dad's death, the notion probably crossed my mind more than once. It's those crazy, almost maniacal thoughts that you think about after a huge trauma. Why him? Why did this happen? And the " if onlys "—those come fast and furious for days afterward. Fate could have easily stepped in and saved Weston and me the anguish of losing our dad, but it didn't. Instead, it showed up and twisted our world in the entirely wrong direction.
"You've been carrying this around with you all these years." My voice is barely audible. I'm still absorbing everything. The lump in my throat makes it hard to talk. "I was so devastated by my dad's death. Weston was angry with you at first, but he kept reminding me it was an accident. I didn't want to hear it. All I knew was you were there, and Dad swerved to miss you and ended up dead."
"We weren't exactly buddies," Jameson reminds me. "You hated me."
I shake my head. "Hate's a strong word. You just—you were mean to me. You teased me mercilessly and then there was the whole prom night debacle. What the heck happened that night? Why were you and Zach fighting?"
Jameson picks up his soda and takes a few gulps. There's that Adam's apple again. "I think you need to let Zach tell you that story. I'm all storied out."
I look at him. "My mom was no picnic, but you guys—you really had it rough with your dad."
"There were good times mixed in with the bad. Mostly, he was too involved with his own life to care what we were up to, but if something angered him or if he was in a bad mood, we stayed well clear of him."
"There—" Rio's hair is wet, and she's changed into a tie-dye T-shirt and shorts. She pulled the pink boots back on. She twirls to the right and the left. "Am I presentable?" She lifts her feet, one at a time, so we can see the bottom of each boot. "And before you freak out, I checked the bottoms for poop."
"You're learning," Jameson says.
I smile at him. "Maybe it is time to break out the stretched corduroys and belt."
"Thanks. And to add weight to that suggestion, I'm about to make some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Care for one?"
"Actually, that sounds good." Sunni's peanut butter and jelly still sticks in my mind as one of the better things to happen during my ordeal.
Rio all but tosses herself onto the sofa next to me. "Before we go through the pictures—check out this baby otter video Bella sent me."
I watch the video and agree with Rio that I want to have the baby otter as a pet. She yanks the phone away as soon as the video ends. "Uh oh, special alert coming in from Olivia." She giggles and gets a little squirrely about something her friend sent her. Her face turns red. "Jeez, Ollie, give a girl a warning," she says as she scrolls through some photos.
"Now I'm curious," I say. "What did Ollie send?" I reach for the phone, but she pulls it away.
"What's going on?" Jameson asks as he places the plates on the coffee table.
"Olivia sent something that is worthy of giggles and a blush," I say.
"Rio, what ya lookin' at?" Jameson asks with a fatherly edge to his tone.
Rio is holding her phone tightly in her hands. Her eyes round, and she sits forward so fast, her boots kick the coffee table. "Oh my gosh." She looks at me then at the phone and then back at me. "It can't be," she says.
I tilt my head. "All right. What's on that phone?" I reach for it but miss. Jameson is much better at grabbing it away.
"Darn you, Dad."
Jameson glances casually at the photo. "Why is Olivia sending you photos of grown men in under—" He stops and holds the phone closer. He repeats Rio's moves by looking at me and back at the phone. "Jones, why are you standing on a sidewalk with Landon Arlo and why is Arlo basically naked?" He turns the phone toward me, but I already know what I'll see.
I glance briefly at the photo and mostly notice that I look like hell.
Rio snatches the phone from her dad's hand. "Just a bit of friendly girl advice," Rio says. "If you're going to meet up with Landon Arlo in his underwear at least brush your hair."
"Is that what they're calling friendly girl advice these days?" I say with a lifted brow.
"Put the phone away and eat your sandwich," Jameson says in a tone that makes her do exactly that.
I sit back on the sofa with my sandwich, keenly aware that Jameson is still watching me. "He's the guy?" he finally asks. "That's the guy who pushed you?"
I look over. Rio is busy texting her friends, no doubt letting them know that the bedraggled woman standing next to Landon is sitting on her dad's sofa.
"Yes, he's the guy. But like I said, I pushed him first."
"And yet, if he comes to town, famous or not, he's going to have to deal with me."
I can't say I hate his instinct to protect me, and it's not the first time it's happened. I remember standing in the lunch line in eighth grade and having Greg Thompson bump into me so hard, I fell to my knees. Greg was a big, block-headed goofball, and he bumped into me because he was laughing about something and didn't watch where he was going. Greg outweighed Jameson by at least fifty pounds in middle school, but Jameson flew across the lunch quad, grabbed Greg by the shirt and hurled him into a set of tables. Greg got a fat lip and bruised knee, and Jameson got suspended.
I take a bite of sandwich and shrug. "He won't come here. He's moved on. In fact, he moved on while we were still a couple. That's why I pushed him."
Jameson sits up straighter in the easy chair. "So, you were dating Landon Arlo? The movie star?"
"You make it sound as if that couldn't possibly be. I lived in L.A., remember? The relationship was never broadcast in public. My boss, his agent, saw to that. She thought it would hurt his superstar potential if he was in a serious relationship, so he wore a lot of disguises when we went out. And while I'm not the school jewel anymore," I continue sharply, "I've still got a little something to offer the opposite sex."
He takes a bite of sandwich and watches me with those pale eyes as he chews and swallows it. "Nope, not seeing it," he teases.
I throw my crust at him. "And you wonder why I always hated you."
He's still staring at me, and it's starting to make me squirm. At the same time, I don't want him to look away.
"And you hated me," I say, hesitantly.
"Sometimes, Jones, it's as if you don't know me at all. That hate was only coming from one direction, darlin', and it certainly wasn't from me."
I don't know how to respond. It's always easy to rewrite history in your mind, but when I think back to times when I was with Weston and his friends, Jameson was always angry. He always seemed to be scowling at me. I never knew what I did to deserve his wrath. I just assumed he hated that I sometimes hung out with them, like I was that pesky sibling always hanging around. Never mind the fact that I was dating the third member of their trio. When I hung out with them it was because I wanted to be around Zach. That always seemed to irritate Jameson.
"Whenever we all hung out together," I start but the conversation is cut short, possibly mercifully so, by Rio's excitement. She's still clutching her phone as if it's holding the secret to the universe.
"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!" She hops up from the couch and runs over to her dad. "Indi was dating Landon Arlo." She swipes open the page. "It says they were in a relationship for a year, but they kept it private." Rio looks at me with a twisted expression. "Why would you keep that private? If I was dating Landon Arlo, I'd be telling the whole world, or, at least Becky Parker. She's the meanest girl in school. A total bully. She thinks she's special because she's the most popular girl. Why are the most popular girls always so mean? Boy, will her mouth drop open when I tell her my dad is dating Landon's ex."
"First of all, tiger," Jameson says as he takes her phone and moves it behind him. Rio tries to grab it from him, but it's never going to happen, so she gives up with a grunt. "Your dad is not dating Landon's ex, and not all popular girls are mean." He looks slyly at me with a teasing smile. "Well, maybe to some people," he says offhandedly.
Rio is too focused on her out of reach phone to hear any of it.
Jameson looks up at her. "We need to work on that science report."
"Nooo," Rio says with a few good boot stomps. She's in that preteen version of middle-earth between tantrums and maturity.
I decide it's time to leave. I got an answer to my question about Jameson leaving flowers at the cemetery. While I've been busy hating Jameson for being on the road that day, Jameson has been living with the burden of knowing he caused a man's death and even wishing there'd been a different outcome. It's tragic no matter what way I look at it.
"I'll let you guys get to the science report. I'll come back another time to help with your pictures, Rio."
"Oh good, and then you can dish on everything you know about Landon Arlo. Is he a good kisser?" Rio asks.
"Discussion over. Stop pelting Indi with questions," Jameson says tersely. Rio pouts, sits down hard on the couch and crosses her arms.
Jameson walks me to the door.
"Thanks for the sandwich …" I look at him. "And everything. Thanks for staying with him." The words catch in my throat. I hurry away before he sees me cry yet again. My phone buzzes as I reach the bike. As if he knew he was the center of discussion, it's a call from Landon. I'm not in the mood to talk, but I answer it anyway.
"Hey Landon. I'm just about to?—"
"Guess our secret is out," he says. He has a habit of talking over me, and I realize now how much it annoys me.
"What secret? There is no secret because we are no longer a?—"
"I miss you," he blurts. "And Genie wants you back. She says you can have the car, the apartment and the job back."
A laugh blasts from my mouth. "Are you kidding? You must be kidding. In fact, please tell me you're kidding. I would work for Satan, himself, before I worked for that woman again. She can keep her apartment and her car and her stupid fucking job. I'm not going back to L.A. ever."
"C'mon, Indi. You left so abruptly. Let's talk about this."
"No, really, Landon. Move on. I'm sure you've got a long trail of women waiting to step into my shoes. Start with Miss Double-D."
"You're never going to let me live that one down."
I can't stop another laugh. "I'm sorry, but no, Landon, I'm not. I've got to go. Good luck with your career, and tell Genie she can eat a big block of cheese and die for all I care." I hang up and shove the phone in my pocket. It would be just like Genie to have Landon call and offer me the job back. She would never lower herself to grovel, but it sounds like she's doing exactly that, through a proxy. She knows it's nearly impossible to find an assistant willing to take the verbal abuse I took from her, so she needs me back. It gives me a nice little boost of satisfaction knowing Genie's aggravated by something. I hope it continues.