Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
They were friends.
He’d thought her shallow early on, despite the way she’d called him on it, and all those pictures of her with her fake expression had thrown him even more, but that version of her only encompassed part of her whole self, not all of it.
These quiet moments in the classroom, after the kids left, showed the real Jif, too, simply a different part.
Like a diamond, beautiful but also faceted, she had many sides.
She honored him by showing him one she clearly didn’t share with many others.
Kind of like the vulnerable moments, few and far between, when someone clung to Nix, face buried in his fur, until they could face reality again.
He’d been surprised by his own words when she asked him about his shallowness. He hadn’t admitted his pain to anyone else, not even his therapist. He couldn’t admit it. If he did, they’d tell him to slow down, and he’d never make the CPAT by July.
She’d remembered.
She slid her hand down Nix’s spine, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the gentle, tender touch she bestowed on his dog.
The Dalmatian loved attention in all forms, happy to lie there while others did the work of petting him, then demanding more when they stopped.
He’d stay all afternoon if Miles would let him.
Well, why not? Maybe not here, but he had nowhere to be tonight, and he really didn’t want to go home and stare at the heap of his weight vest on the floor next to the couch for another night.
He still hadn’t picked it up.
“You want to go grab a bite?” He grimaced, trying to soften the gravelly rumble in his voice.
“Dinner, I mean. Or maybe drinks. I’m sure you have somewhere else to be.
” He’d have to be careful. Alcohol didn’t mix well with most painkillers, so he’d either have to deal with the pain if it kept him up all night or order something non-alcoholic.
Her head jerked up, gaze catching his, and the green of her wrap dress brought out the emerald starburst in her eyes. For a moment, he thought she’d refuse, and, to be fair, he’d already blown her off without any explanation, so he had it coming.
Then, she smiled. A real one. “That sounds good. My friend Jimmy has a place out on James Island where dogs are welcome.”
He should have considered Nix, but he appreciated what Jif had. She’d probably been read chapter and verse about service dog access laws from Abby.
“He has a pit bull he takes everywhere with him, but he’s nice. The dog, I mean. He’s not mean or aggressive. Well, neither is Jimmy, unless you’re the opponent’s offensive line.”
Miles suppressed a smirk as she babbled, filling the silence between them.
“That sounds great.”
“Seafood,” she blurted out. “You’re not allergic?”
The corners of his lips twitched. “I’m not allergic. Seafood is fine.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
She stood, brushing the stray white hairs from her skirt, and reached for his cane, passing it to him.
He barely noticed the ease with which he took it from her, the difference from his awkward visit to the fire station stark.
Instead of pressure to be further along in the healing process, Jif accepted him for who he was right now.
Maybe because she’d never known him any other way, or maybe simply because once you broke through her facade, she genuinely cared, without agendas or expectations.
Nix jumped to his feet and shook, collar tags jingling, jowls flying, and tail whipping back and forth, as Jif collected her shoulder bag and turned out the lights.
They made their slow way to the parking lot, Nix between them, and again, his chest filled with gratitude that he didn’t need to pretend to be better, stronger.
She went his pace, without judging or pitying him, and once seated in the restaurant, it didn’t matter.
He could stretch his leg out under the table, rest his cane against the wall, and be her equal.
Nix sniffed the floor under the table, inspecting it minutely for any crumbs, then thrust his head into Miles’s lap for attention. After a few scratches, though, he abandoned him for Jif.
“Emotionally needy mutt,” he grumbled, though without any bite, as she gently cradled the dog’s head in her hands and traced the lines of his skull with one finger. “He’ll settle if you ignore him. Or you can tell him to down. I promise he’s not as unloved as he’s implying.”
Jif’s eyes glowed, her gentle, sunshine smile warming the space between them, and completely ignored him.
Nix sighed in contentment, eyes drifting closed as he swayed on his feet, half asleep from her ministrations.
When their food came, Miles told Nix to lie down. The dog slid to the floor—slowly, a final act of defiance—and lay his head on his crossed paws with a resentful whuffle.
Miles gave him an affectionate nudge with his toe while Jif laughed, a windchime sound ringing through the busy restaurant.
“The scampi here is my favorite,” Jif said, leaning over her plate and inhaling deeply. “The chef doesn’t skimp on the garlic butter.”
The rich scent of mahi-mahi rose from his own plate on a billowing cloud of steam, and even Nix raised his head, hoping for a bite.
“Down,” he reminded the dog.
Jif held up a fork, clearly waiting, and after a puzzled moment, Miles lifted his and hesitantly clinked it against hers.
“Cheers!”
“I thought we were supposed to do that with our drinks.” He hastily snatched the napkin off the table when Jif pulled hers into her lap.
Jif grinned and held her plastic cup of soda out to him.
The clatter of his cup against hers wasn’t nearly as musical as the silverware, but it didn’t matter, because when he’d ordered lemonade instead of a cocktail, she’d quickly changed her order, and while he’d told her she didn’t need to, she hadn’t hesitated.
Quiet fell as they ate their first few bites, but the peace shattered when a massive guy approached the table, eyes alighting on Jif.
“Jif,” he boomed, pulling her from the booth and wrapping her in a hug. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight, was I?”
In a moment, she’d pasted her false expression across her face, and Miles flinched.
“You weren’t, don’t worry.”
She turned toward him, then paused, head cocked to one side, until he schooled his expression.
“This is my friend, Miles. Miles, this is Jimmy. He owns the restaurant.”
Jimmy held out a hand and, while Miles wasn’t a small man by any stretch of the imagination, Jif’s friend dwarfed him.
Struggling to his feet, they shook as he searched for something to say, some common ground he and this behemoth of a human might share, but Nix saved him, jumping up and shoving his way out from under the table.
“Who’s this?” Jimmy dropped to his knees and scrubbed behind Nix’s ears while Jif introduced the dog, as well.
“Is Santana here?”
Jimmy shook his head. “Nah, she’s home with Leticia.”
Then, he swallowed, his gaze flicking away.
Jif burst into tinny, fabricated giggles.
Miles sank back into his seat, calling Nix under the table again, as she waggled her eyebrows at Jimmy.
“Already? Moving fast, are we?”
The color on Jimmy’s dark cheeks deepened only slightly, but the awkward way he kept his head down and gave Nix a final thump on his rump before standing again showed his embarrassment. “She’s just hanging, I swear.”
Jif put her hands on her hips and mock-pouted at him. “Do I need to ask her about her intentions?”
Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “Pretty sure they’re the same as mine.”
Jif arched an eyebrow, shooting a suggestive, sly smirk his way.
Miles couldn’t bear to watch, any chance at a shared rapport with Jimmy over their mutual love of dogs fizzling with every word Jif spoke. He picked up his fork and poked at his food.
“Fine, but I’m still grilling her at brunch tomorrow. Moving in together is a big step. Practically pre-engagement.” The teasing lilt in Jif’s voice raised the hairs on the back of Miles’s neck.
Jimmy cleared his throat, then exclaimed, “What’s this? You’re eating my seafood without any wine?”
Miles’s head whipped back to the man as he raised a hand to call over their server.
“Don’t worry about it.” Jif pulled on his arm. “We’re both driving tonight, and we’re fine, really.”
Jimmy’s eyes bounced between them. “If you’re sure...”
“We are.”
“Okay then, I have to go. Told Leticia I’d bring dinner, but you guys have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“You haven’t left us a lot of options, have you?” Jif teased.
Jimmy boomed out a laugh, squeezed her one last time, then made his way toward the back with a surprising lightness for such a large man.
Jif dropped back into her seat, and the fake smile softened to something more familiar. The uneasy shiver running up Miles’s spine relaxed and faded.
“Sorry, Jimmy is...” she paused, as if searching for an appropriate adjective. “Loud. He comes from a big family.”
“How big?”
Jif twirled some pasta on her fork. “Umm, his littlest sister is Dylan’s age.
I think there’s another sibling or two still living at home with their mom, plus a few more away at college.
Or maybe Ava has graduated already?” She popped the bite into her mouth, chewing slowly.
After she’d swallowed, she continued, “He takes care of all of them like Colton takes care of us.”
Miles understood the subtext. Family could be hard. Broken family even harder.
“My mom and dad divorced when I was a teen,” he offered, tacit empathy in his words. “She moved to Texas, and we didn’t hear from her again for a while. She got remarried a few years back. I get Christmas cards.”
“My birthday was a month after... Well, I thought for sure my dad would call, or he’d show up unannounced. Pick me up at school and whisk me home. Something. Anything.” She trailed off, eyes on her plate as she chased a shrimp around the edge. “I waited all day.”
Miles reached across the table, covering her hand with his as hurt flitted across her face. The betrayal might be old, but there wasn’t an expiration date on emotional pain.
“He’d always do something. Pick us up early and take us out for ice cream, bring McDonald’s for lunch, go out for pancakes before school, and drop us off late. Birthdays were special. Then, he just... forgot. Or didn’t care. Or... I don’t know.”
It wasn’t fair divorce broke children more than adults.
Parents made choices their kids couldn’t understand, then forced them to follow along.
Clark went to Texas and lost his father and his brother.
Jif lost her dad, and even if there were answers that would make the situation okay—would make it make sense—she couldn’t get them, now.
“I didn’t understand for a long time. How could he hate us all so much, out of nowhere?
I still don’t...” Her chest heaved as she swallowed back her emotions.
“I blamed my mom. She had to have done something, right? For a while, I thought maybe she’d cheated on him, but when his girlfriend moved in, it became pretty clear she hadn’t been the one to cheat. ”
“Have you asked her what happened?”
Jif shook her head. “That’s your solution to everything, isn’t it?”
She finally stabbed the shrimp, popping it into her mouth, but didn’t remove her hand from beneath his.
He cleared his throat. If she wasn’t going to move, neither would he, even if it meant eating with his left hand. “Worked so far, hasn’t it?”
She stuck out her tongue, and he couldn’t help the rough chuckle it elicited, or the full-blown laugh that followed as her eyes widened in shock, and even though she pulled her hand from his, the warmth of her soft skin against his palm stayed with him long after they parted ways.