9. Harlow
CHAPTER 9
HARLOW
He catches up with me after only about three steps, of course.
“What the hell is going on?”
I whirl around and ask, “Why can’t you just leave the people in my life alone? I know you like to mess with me but it’s getting old.”
His brows rise. “What are we talking about?”
“You’re just not going to be happy until you drive away everyone I care about, right?”
His eyes go from me to Margot to Mia and back to me.
He shakes his head. “We’re not doing this here.” He grabs my hand and starts walking, tugging me along.
I dig in my heels. “You’re not just going to drag me around.”
He turns back. “Fine.” Then he bends over and sweeps me up into his arms, bridal carrying me.
“Jefferson!”
He’s heading for his truck, parked along the curb of the square. He grins down at me, but says tightly, “We’re in love, remember?” He leans in and kisses my cheek.
I hate him so much.
I want to fight with him. I am mad at him. But, he’s right. This is day one—actually we’re only a few hours in on our plan—and I can’t ruin it all by throwing a fit in the middle of town.
I stop squirming and take a deep breath.
“Good girl,” he murmurs.
I growl.
He chuckles.
At his truck, he walks around to the passenger side, somehow pulls the door open, even with me in his arms, and deposits me on the seat.
“You’re kidnapping me now?”
“Duct tape over your mouth sounds very appealing,” he comments before he slams the door.
I sit on the seat, arms crossed. I don’t know where he thinks he’s taking me, but I do want to have this conversation, and bursting out of his truck and stomping up Main Street is also not the way to convince anyone that we are in a serious romantic relationship.
He gets in the driver’s seat and I look past him to see Margot and Mia watching us. Both grinning.
Well, I’m glad that everyone’s enjoying this. Including the two women who suddenly think Jefferson is such a great guy.
“You need to leave Mia alone,” I tell him before he’s even pulled away from the curb.
“I’m not messing with Mia.”
“Why can’t she just be happy? Why can’t she just forget about the past? She doesn’t need to get involved with those kids that you want her to talk to.”
He grips the steering wheel. “Then she can tell me no.” He looks over at me. “But she hasn’t done that, Harlow.”
“Everyone in this town, for some reason, has a hard time saying that word to you.”
“Present company excluded.”
I shift on the seat to face him. “Damn right. At least someone around here realizes that you don’t actually have the ability to turn water into wine.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“And you’re such a meddler!”
“Hi, pot, I’m kettle. “
“I don’t meddle! I support people. I help them. I comfort them. I help them find homes and families and love and support! You’re the one who’s always trying to push people away. Trying to find them something else. Somewhere else. It’s like you think going somewhere bigger, far away, alone is some badge of honor. That being stuck in this little town with people you know and love is weak and sad.”
I see his hands tighten on the steering wheel. “You don’t really think that’s how I feel.”
“That’s how you act.”
“Jesus Christ, Harlow, I live here. I came back here. I love this town. I teach here. I see my family every damned day. What the fuck are you even talking about?”
“Then you are only targeting people I care about?”
He pulls into a driveway and I realize we’re at his house. He slams the truck into park then turns to me. “Get in the house.”
I glare at him. “No way. “
“It is beyond time for us to have this out. But we’re not doing it in my driveway where anyone could drive or walk by or look out their front window and see and hear the whole damned thing. Let’s go inside and fight.”
Fuck. I have been pretending to date this man for about two hours and already it’s a pain in my ass.
I blow out a breath, open the door, and get out. He stops at the end of the path, letting me pass in front of him, the gentleman in case anyone’s watching, and I stomp up his front porch steps. I shove the door open, knowing he didn’t lock it, and head into his living room.
Jefferson took the job as guidance counselor and science teacher along with football coach right after college six years ago. In that time, I’ve been to Jefferson’s house with Ginny and Graham a few times, once or twice with my own brother, and with my mom a couple of times.
We share an annoying number of people in common.
He shuts the door behind him, then leans against it crossing his arms.
“You’re accusing me of some pretty big bullshit,” he says.
“None of this is new. You know how I feel.”
“And you have to know that none of that is true. I’m not targeting people that you love in some crazy attempt to try to get them away from you. I’m helping people, Harlow.”
“You wanted to get Graham away from me.”
He sighs. “Okay, in the case of Graham it was more about you,” he admits. “But that’s a specific situation.”
I cross my arms as that familiar hurt makes my chest feel tight. I will not cry in front of Jefferson Riley.“Just because you’re not content with your life here, doesn’t mean other people can’t be.”
“What the fuck makes you think I’m not content with my life here?”
I squeeze my arms tighter against my stomach, mimicking his pose, though I’m not leaning against anything. My feet are braced, and I’m sure I look like I’m ready for a fight.
I am.
I don’t fight with people. I’m calm, supportive, always the voice of reason. I talk things out. I look at all the different angles. Though I am steadfastly on the side of whoever has come to me for help.
Except with Jefferson. I really want to fight with him.
I’ll admit that I’m not always totally rational when it comes to him. He makes me nuts. But I can yell at him. And the pounding adrenaline, the flushed cheeks, the heat I feel, is exhilarating.
I’m not proud of it, but I’ll admit it.
“Fine,” I say. “What makes me think you’re not content with your life here? How about the fact that you didn’t actually get to play in the big championship game that everybody still talks about to this day? Oh sure, they talk about what a big stud you were, what a star you were, how we’ll probably never have a team that good again. But you weren’t actually a part of that three-game series.
“And then you didn’t get to go play for the University of Nebraska. You had to go to Minnesota instead. And no one really liked that, did they? They didn’t really cheer for you once you left the state. You weren’t the same Golden Boy then.”
He doesn’t say anything. He just clenches his jaw and waits.
He’s letting me have my say.
Well, okay then.
“ And, ” I go on. “How about the fact that your whole family is rich, kind-of-famous scientists who are making the world a better place. Except you. You’re stuck in your tiny hometown teaching science and coaching football. You can’t seem to move beyond high school. You are in the same building, basically doing the same things you did your whole life. You spend time with the same people, in the same places, your days looking pretty much like they’ve looked since you were about five.
“You love your family, but being here in the same town makes it really easy for people to compare you. Anywhere else you could be an amazing teacher and coach, but here, it’s kind of not-quite-as-impressive.
“But you got out for a little bit, right? You escaped. And now you think everyone should get the hell out of this place that should make you happy but makes you feel not-quite-good-enough. You’re stuck but you can try to push as many people out of here as possible.”
He’s just watching me. He waits a beat, then asks, “You done?”
I take a deep breath. I can’t believe I said all of that. I don’t actually know that any of that is true. Those are the reasons I’ve come up with to explain how he behaves. But I’ve always wondered. I’ve wanted to ask him. So I nod. “For now.”
“ You’re the one who thinks that Sapphire Falls is a fucking haven. Everyone should live here. If someone can’t be happy here, they’re done for, right? Sapphire Falls makes everything better. All you have to do is live here, eat a few pot pies at Dottie’s, have some frozen lemonade at the stupid town festival and your life is sunshine and fucking rainbows.”
I narrow my eyes and step forward. “Yes. I do believe that Sapphire Falls can be a haven. It is the epitome of home and family, and people deserve that, Jefferson. The fact that you look down on it, that you feel stuck here, and your entire mission in life is to make sure everyone gets the fuck out of here, is your problem.”
He pushes off the door and steps toward me. “And the fact that you think everyone should come here, and never fucking leave, never think about anything bigger or better—yes, Harlow, I said better than Sapphire Falls—” He spreads his arms wide. “Am I going to be struck by lightning? Is the god of Sapphire Falls going to smite me?”
I’m breathing faster and my heart is pumping. “If you hate it here so much, why did you come back?”
“Why can’t you believe that I don’t hate it here?”
“Because you keep trying to make people leave.”
“Just because Sapphire Falls is where I want to be, where you want to be, where a lot of people should be, doesn’t mean it’s right for everyone.”
“Just because a place is bigger, glitzier, has fancier restaurants and higher paying jobs, doesn’t make it better ,” I insist.
“And just because people have to travel a few hours to come home and see their family, doesn’t mean they love them less.”
I just stare at him. If anyone else were saying these things to me, I would probably agree. I am a grown woman. Mature, intelligent, even rational most of the time.
I have made my life’s work finding people, especially kids, homes and families. It is important to me that people feel like they belong and that they find a place where they can be safe and happy.
Has Sapphire Falls been that place for me and the people I love most? No question.
But I am aware of the fact that Sapphire Falls cannot shelter everyone.
Still, there’s something about Jefferson that makes me incapable of being rational and admitting all of that.
At least at this moment.
“Look at your dad,” I say. “He’s a world-renowned scientist. He meets with world leaders. He is literally on the front lines of helping cure world hunger. And he came to Sapphire Falls, fell in love with your mom, realized that this tiny little town had what he wanted to be happy and moved his whole company here. He brought a whole bunch of people here who also fell in love with this town and who consider it home and who count all of these people as their family.”
Jefferson rolls his eyes. “You know that not everyone can stay in Sapphire Falls. You know that that is not actually best for everyone. I don’t know why you have to be such a brat.”
“Leave Mia alone,” I say, going back to my very first point. I’m about to lose the thread of this argument, and I know it, so I dig in.
“So now Sapphire Falls is also a mental and emotional haven? The pot pies, and festivals, and barbecues, and sweet town square aren’t enough? We’re not even supposed to think about sad things?” he asks.
“Not...Mia.” I realize that sounds silly, but I can’t stop.
“What if she can help someone? What if she can be that friend, that support system for someone, that you talk about being so important?”
“She should get to escape from what she went through.”
“That’s not how this works and you know it.”
“You’re a school counselor. You’re supposed to help kids apply to colleges and work study. Quit acting like you’re some kind of mental health expert.”
That was a low blow. I’ve seen Jefferson in action. He was amazing when Alex was going through everything. He was amazing for me . Having him there with me while we were searching for Alex, while we sat in the waiting room at the hospital, while we listened to the kid sob his heart out, made me stronger.
But, as always, Jefferson doesn’t even flinch at my insults. He studies me for a moment, then he says, “I know she was your first case. But just because Mia might get sad sometimes, or scared, or even relive some hurts, doesn’t mean you’ve failed her, Harlow. You have helped her. No matter what still lingers or what’s ahead.”
I feel like he just slapped me.
How does he know that’s how I feel? How can he tell that I’m afraid that I haven’t done enough? That what my family has built around her won’t be strong enough?
I frown and squeeze my arms tighter against my stomach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But holy shit, I definitely do. And I’m reeling from the idea that Jefferson might know this about me.
He takes a step closer. “Mia coming into your life is when you first realized that home and family and love and support are not givens. You were five when you first realized that not everyone automatically gets to feel happy and safe and loved. Then, also at a very young age, you got to experience giving her all of that. And you got a rush from it. You became addicted. And now, that’s what drives you. You need to give everyone you get to know and care about that feeling of love and safety and happiness. And if anything would happen to the idea that you fixed Mia, your sense of who you are and what you do would crumble.”
I pull in a shaky breath.
He is… absolutely right. On every single one of those points. I have never heard anyone put those things into words like that, not even the counselor of my own who helped me work through that realization in college.
It seems obvious where my interest in social work and child advocacy came from, but it’s so much deeper than just placing kids with good families. It truly is about who I envision myself to be.
And I am shaking with the realization that Jefferson sees this in me.
“Mia is a grown woman,” he finally says firmly. “If she wants to help, I’m grateful. I think she’d be great at it, and it could give her an important sense of self-worth. The idea that everything she went through could produce something good could be really powerful. But if she doesn’t want to get involved, I absolutely will not pressure her.”
I finally find my voice. “That’s what you don’t understand,” I tell him. “You’re this person, who is so…” I make a frustrated noise. “Perfect. Everyone respects you. Everyone likes you. You’re good at everything you do. So, when you ask someone to do something, they want to please you. They’re flattered. They figure if Jefferson picked them, then they have to say yes.”
He looks thoughtful. “I don’t think that’s how people see me. I am, after all, the one who didn’t play in the championship game or go to my dream college. I’m just a teacher and coach. I ended up back in my hometown living a life like I’ve always done, right?”
I blow out a breath. That was all really bitchy of me to say. Not only is he an excellent coach and teacher, I know that he’s inspired several kids to go into fields that could easily lead them to do amazing things just like his family is doing.
Great teachers matter. Great coaches matter. Great role models fucking matter.
And Jefferson Riley is all of those things.
“You know damn well that’s just how I see you,” I tell him. “The rest of the town thinks you’re fucking amazing for coming home and for coaching the team. Every kid loves you. All the parents love you. You’re also the best science teacher that school has had in years. And I know your dad just hired someone who credits you for him going into science and wanting to help cure world hunger.”
The corner of Jefferson’s mouth curls up. “Pretty ironic that the thing that annoys you most about me is that I came back to Sapphire Falls, your favorite place, the town you think is perfect and where you think everyone should aspire to live.”
“It’s very annoying that you moved back and are the one blight on my haven,” I agree.
“See,” he says, his smile spreading. “We should start looking at all the ways we’re the same. I think it would be startling.”
I shake my head. “Our general life philosophy is completely different. I believe in home and family. I believe in keeping my loved ones close and supporting them no matter what. You believe in kicking everyone out of the nest. That’s a pretty huge difference.”
He shakes his head. “We both believe in loving our people hard and getting what’s best for them. It’s just that you’re soft and squishy about it, and I’m tough and encouraging.”
I gasp. “I am not soft and squishy about it.”
Now he laughs. “You so are. You are a pushover. You bend over backward to make sure everyone is happy and comfortable all the time .” He pauses, almost as if he’s not sure he should go on, then he says, “Usually it’s very sweet. But that was the biggest problem with Graham and you.”
I draw myself up taller. “You really want to talk about this?”
He looks around. “This seems like a good time. We’re here alone. We have some privacy. And it’s probably a good idea to hash this out so that the rest of the week goes well.”
I relax my arms but prop my hands on my hips.
My heart is still pounding, but now it is less about yelling at him and more worry about what he’s going to say to me.
I do not like being criticized, and I know that Jefferson won’t hesitate, but there’s also a part of me that does want to hear this once and for all.
“Okay, tell me all the ways I was so terrible for Graham.”
“You were too soft on him.”
That’s all he says. I stand blinking at him. “What?”
“From the moment you met Graham when you were five years old, you coddled him.”
“Right, I sometimes forget that Graham’s biggest sin in life was not being tougher and not wanting to hit other guys with his body.”
“This isn’t about football. Though your disdain for how I make my living is also maybe something we need to go over at some point,” Jefferson says dryly. “But it was about how Graham never wanted to try anything hard, to never be outside his comfort zone. You were his comfort zone. And you loved that. You got a taste for helping, loving, supporting someone with Mia. And then you found Graham. Graham needed a protector as far as you could see. And you loved that. You loved being that mama bear. So you took Graham under your wing. And you never let him out.”
That is not accurate. Jefferson was four grades ahead of us in school. He doesn't know what it was like day to day for Graham. He just wanted to be left alone.
“Graham is an amazing person,” I say. “He’s brilliant, he’s caring, he’s funny as hell, and he knows exactly who he wants to be. Carver always had his head in the clouds and was wrapped up in Kaelyn. You were always the social butterfly, the golden boy on the football field. Graham had nothing in common with either of you. Ginny was… Ginny. She had her girlfriends, she was definitely more social, and she was trying to find her place and didn’t have time to worry about Graham. So yeah, Graham needed me. And we were a great pair. I don’t regret helping Graham and protecting him.”
“He never had a girlfriend because of you.”
“Graham never wanted a girlfriend,” I say, exasperated. “And you would know that if you ever talked to him. Also having a girlfriend is not the epitome of success or accomplishment.”
“No. But it is a huge social milestone growing up. It’s a normal part of socialization. One that he skipped.”
“Is this about you thinking he was in love with me all this time?”
“He was for a while. Come on.” Jefferson rolls his eyes. “At least he thought he was. But it wasn’t that. It was that all the girls knew they could never measure up to you for Graham. So no one would even consider dating him. And he was shy enough that he would’ve needed a girl to express the interest.”
“I am not having this fight with you again about how I was bad for Graham‘s love life.”
“Fine, then let’s just talk about everything else. He wouldn’t go away to camp because of you. He wouldn’t work a summer job outside of town because of you. He didn’t want to socialize with any groups of people that didn’t involve you. He took a lot of classes because of you.”
“We were in the same grade! It’s a very small school, and a very small town. Of course we were together a lot.”
“You and Graham were joined at the hip, Harlow.” Jefferson looks as frustrated as I feel right now. “He needed to have his own experiences. His own life. Friends outside of you. And when I realized that he was going to go to college wherever you went, I couldn’t let that happen. He needed to cut the ties. Especially when Colorado wanted him, specifically for their engineering program.”
“He could’ve done engineering here in Nebraska,” I say stubbornly.
“And you and I both know that he would’ve spent every minute studying with you at the library, going out with you on the weekends, probably would’ve wound up as your roommate at some point, not dating. Hell, if I had looked away, he may have ended up with a social work degree.”
“Fuck you. Social work is an amazing and important profession.”
Jefferson scrubs a hand over his face. “Of course it is! It’s the perfect fit for you . Not for Graham. Engineering is perfect for Graham. And since he’s been in Colorado, he’s made a ton of friends, dated, come out of his shell, and learned that he can stand on his own two feet. He’s confident, even funnier, and is blossoming as a person.”
I feel tears stinging the back of my eyes. Because he’s right. I’d be an idiot to not see all of that.
But if I cry in front of Jefferson, I’m going to have to move to Colorado.
Of course, Jefferson would hate that.
“I love your brother,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “He is one of the most important people to me. I can’t believe that you think the way I feel about him is so damaging.”
“And I hate to tell you that,” he says, and I think he’s actually sincere. “Graham leaving you for Colorado was the biggest step he’s ever taken in his life, Harlow. You are incredibly important to him. I was shocked actually when he agreed. I didn’t know if I’d ever get him away from you.”
My mouth drops open. “Holy shit, Jefferson. How am I supposed to feel about the fact that you think I’m terrible?”
“I don’t think you’re terrible. I think that you and Graham’s relationship was way too codependent.”
“And you think the way that I hold my friends back is terrible.”
“Harlow,” he finally says with a deep breath in and out. “Honestly… you love people so hard.”
I feel my heart thump. “What?”
“You think I’m so charming and whatever that people can’t say no to me, but you are so loving and giving, no one can say no to you. ”
My eyes sting even harder, and I blink rapidly. That shouldn’t be a bad thing.
“So loving people is terrible.”
He steps forward. “You love people who are very vulnerable. And that’s awesome when they need that protection. When they need that person to pull them in and hold them tight because everything else is spinning around them and they don’t have anywhere else to go. But you need to learn to let them go when they get stronger.”
I swallow hard. “I don’t like letting people go.”
“I know.”
“They could get hurt.”
He nods. “Like Mia did when she left your family to go back with her parents.”
I press my lips together and nod. He doesn’t need a psych degree. This is all very obvious.
“You have a lot of love to give. A lot of passion. But…” He stops and studies me, clearly trying to decide if he should go on.
I lift my chin. “But?”
“That can be overwhelming for people who aren’t able to give it back to you in equal measure. They feel like they don’t deserve it. Or they feel like they’ll never truly love you enough.”
“I don’t need that,” I argue. “I’m not expecting anything in return.”
He nods. “But you should. You need to be loved and supported and safe too. I think that maybe there’s a space inside that you need to fill up. You keep trying to put more people into it. People who need you. But maybe, what’s missing is the love and security that you need. Maybe you need to be held tightly sometimes instead of always doing the holding.”
Now my heart is pounding so hard. I’m having a hard time taking a deep breath. “You don’t think that Mia and Graham love me back?”
“They both definitely do. But it is really hard to love as hard as you do. Not many people do. It’s just so much.”
Well great. So I am kind of unlovable because I love too much.
This man makes me nuts.
I think he brought me in here, just so he could say things like that, twist my mind and heart up, just to torture me.
“Jefferson Riley,” I bite out. “There is no way I am going to be able to fake liking you for another six days.”
Then I march past him, shove him out of the way, yank open his front door, and stomp down the stairs.
“Do you want a ride?” he calls after me.
Jefferson does live a little further away from downtown, but I have enough pent-up emotion coursing through me right now that a walk will probably do me good.
I simply raise my hand and flip him off over my shoulder.