Chapter 16
sixteen
I follow Jake as he slowly walks up the concrete steps to the one-story home that served as my second home.
It’s almost identical to my mom’s on the outside; the only difference is the bright teal door.
Judy painted it a few years ago to allegedly make her house stand out.
I grin, remembering the real reason she did it was to annoy the grumpy old neighbor across the street, who complained every time someone made changes to their home or landscaping.
If this street had an HOA, he would be the annoying president who fines you for having grass a half-inch too tall.
My smile fades as I realize I’ll never be able to sit on Judy’s front porch, sipping on her legendary homemade lemonade, listening to her and my mom prattle on about the latest town drama.
There’s no doubt my mom will keep me well-informed about the crazy stories of small-town living, but it won’t be the same without Judy.
I’m almost frozen on the front step when Jake gently nudges my arm.
“Are you coming inside? I understand if it’s too much. It took me multiple attempts to walk in the first time,” he says softly, concern radiating across his face.
“Just lost in a memory. Being here reminds me of the last time I saw your mom. I wasn’t—” I shake my head and let out a deep breath. “I wasn’t prepared for how standing outside would affect me. I don’t know how you walked inside alone.”
“Let me show you what I found. It’ll help. Trust me.” He reaches for my hand, pulling me slowly through the front door.
Instantly, I’m transported back to my childhood, playing with Legos on the living room floor with Jake.
The plaid couches remind me of the countless nights spent watching action movies and consuming copious amounts of popcorn and Coke with my legs propped across his lap.
It may be a few months later, but I swear I can smell the remnants of Thanksgiving in the air, like Judy just took the turkey out of the oven.
My chest tightens, remembering spending the holiday with Judy and my mom—our last one together.
Jake and I stand silently in the living room for a few minutes, our hands intertwined, taking in the scene.
The memories. The emptiness. It’s hitting both of us.
We’re back in this house together…without her.
Tears pool in my eyes as I will them to stop.
I don’t want to cry in front of Jake. Not now.
He’s the one who lost his mom. I should be comforting him, not the other way around.
I need to pull myself together.
Be there for him.
This isn’t about me.
It’s about him.
I let go of his hand, quickly wiping the tears from my eyes. “So, what did you want to show me? I’m almost afraid to ask.”
He looks at me with an expression I can’t quite read.
There’s a softness in his eyes, while his brow is crumpled, and he seems to be holding his breath.
It’s slightly unnerving because I used to easily understand his cues.
Growing up, our friends would joke that the two of us could communicate without saying a single word.
That’s not the case anymore. There are moments when I feel that connection is alive between us again, and others when he’s distant, almost a stranger.
He strolls over to the well-loved, outdated plaid couch and takes a seat. He pats the cushion next to him, prompting me to join him in my usual spot.
Do I still have a usual spot if we haven’t been in this house together in a decade? At what point does it stop being your spot?
I swallow and take a seat next to him as he rifles through a box of photos on the coffee table and plucks one out.
“This is what I wanted to show you.” He lifts a photo of the two of us.
We’re around ten, on an ATV, with my arms wrapped tightly around his waist, both of us covered in mud with huge grins I can easily make out even with our helmets on.
“I remember this day so clearly. It was your first time on an ATV. You screamed at the top of your lungs every time we hit a bump. The next thing I know, you’re begging me to go faster.
” A heartwarming grin appears on his face as he hands me the photo.
As soon as I touch the picture, the memories come flooding back with all the emotions from that day.
The nervousness. Excitement. Joy. I shake my head and smile softly.
“That’s when my need for speed started. I always felt safe with you, so I’d push you to go faster and faster.
It used to drive my mom crazy. She did not love this unexpected, reckless side only you brought out in me. ”
“That’s my favorite part of you. The real Kate.
” He leans over to brush a strand of hair off my face, hesitating for a second before tucking it behind my ear.
His steel-blue eyes gaze directly into mine, causing my heart to race and my breathing to slow.
“No one else got to see that side of you. Just me.”
An unexpected emptiness hits me when his hand drops from my face.
I turn my head slightly to break eye contact, shaking off the nervousness I’m feeling.
The weird emotions I’m experiencing from being back in this house with him.
He wants to believe he still knows me, but he doesn’t.
I’m not the same person I was when we were kids.
Back when Judy would jokingly refer to us as PB&J— different but better together.
“That’s not the real me. That was me being a kid. Allowing myself to do stupid things because I didn’t know any better.”
“You mean having fun?” His brows crinkle as he stares at me inquisitively. “When’s the last time you had fun? Did something that wasn’t on your to-do list? Acted spontaneously? Actually enjoyed life?” A smirk slowly spreads across his face, daring me to contradict him.
“What are you talking about? I have fun. So. Much. Fun. I go out all the time in Chicago,” I reply defensively, smirking.
I don’t even bother trying to control my face at this thinly veiled insult.
He deserves to see how frustrated and annoyed his comment makes me. “You have no idea who I am anymore.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Kate. I may not have been around for the past fifteen years, but I know exactly who you are.
I’ve always known,” he replies confidently, causing my breath to hitch.
“Just like when you were a kid, you put everyone else’s needs before your own.
And your definition of fun is spreadsheets.
” He chuckles, shaking his head slightly.
“Spreadsheets are—”
He puts his fingers to my lips. “You don’t need to give me a dissertation on how spreadsheets can be fun.
I know you love them. It’s one of the many quirky things about you that I adore.
” His eyes hold my gaze as his mouth parts slightly before he continues, “But I’m talking about fun that doesn’t involve numbers.
Doing something that makes you laugh so hard, you might pee your pants.
” A wicked smirk appears on his face as he removes his fingers.
My face heats. “That was one time! We were kids. You can’t hold that against me.
Plus, you were holding me down and tickling me.
What did you expect to happen?” I shout, unsure why I feel the need to defend myself and my tiny bladder when his tickling was clearly at fault.
“And I do have plenty of fun outside of spreadsheets. It’s—” I bite my lower lip, racking my brain to remember the last time I did something that wasn’t work or wedding-related.
“Being a responsible adult doesn’t leave much room for fun. ”
“We’re going to change that. You need to have fun. You deserve a break. And I don’t want to hear any bullshit about how you don’t have time.”
There goes the rebuttal I was planning. Damn it.
“Because I know how much you love plans, we’re going to make a plan to have fun. Think of it as your newest to-do list. And I won’t take no for an answer. You know how stubborn I can be, Kate.”
Double damn it.
The determination on his face makes it clear that I’m screwed.
He’s going to pester me until I agree. Part of me wants to quickly come up with a list of excuses for why this is a horrible idea, but it won’t matter, because I’m going to give in.
I always give in when it comes to him…and pretty much everyone else.
Fuck. He’s right. I’m a goddamn people-pleaser.
I sigh. “Tell me more about this to-do list,” I say, waving my hand like it’s a white flag indicating surrender.
He leans in, nudging my shoulder. “I knew you’d make the right choice.
It’s simple. We’ll tackle our responsibilities first. Spend two nights a week, along with Saturday mornings, cleaning out my mom’s house.
I’ll help you with wedding planning one night a week.
Then we’ll have some fun. Plans for the rest of the evenings and weekends are completely up to my discretion.
” There is conviction in his voice and a huge grin on his face. He’s loving every second of this.
My brows raise. “You’re offering to help me with wedding planning?
Why?” I can’t get my own fiancé to help me plan our wedding, so it doesn’t make sense that Jake would want to be involved.
He’s probably mentioning it to be kind, preventing me from using the wedding as an excuse as to why I can’t do one of the fun activities he’s organizing.
“You’re stressed about the wedding, and I want to help. I’m here for the long haul, so put me to work. We can accomplish more together. We’ve always been better together.”
My mouth falls open. He can’t be remembering how his mom used to talk about us being better together. It has to be just a coincidence that he used the phrase shortly after the memory popped into my head.
What is going on? I didn’t expect any of this when I walked into Judy’s house.
Not the flurry of memories and emotions.
And definitely not the incredibly sweet yet confusing offer from Jake.
Although I highly doubt he knows anything about wedding planning, I could use the help.
It would be refreshing to have another person to bounce ideas off who isn’t my mom or Brian’s mom.
They’re both so opinionated and would quickly commandeer everything about my wedding if I gave them an inch.
“I can see the thoughts running through your head, Kate. You look like you’re doing complicated equations, based on how hard you’re concentrating.”
The tension in my face starts to slowly fade.
“Say yes. Let me help you. Learn to have fun again.” He reaches for my hand, clasping it in his. “I’ll play the dead mother card if I have to. I don’t want to use it, but I will.”
“Isn’t that what you just did?”
“Not technically. I’m only suggesting I could use it. It still has all its special powers.”
“Ugh. You’re the worst.”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that,” he replies, looking into my eyes. “Say yes. You know you want to. It’ll be like old times.” He grins mischievously, and his steel-blue eyes twinkle.
I shake my head, sinking into the couch with our hands joined together. “Fine. You win. This had better result in me getting more items checked off my to-do list and not becoming some boondoggle.”
“You will. I promise,” he says with a wink.
Whatever he’s planning is either going to be a ton of fun or incredibly reckless. Probably a combination of the two. Whatever it is, I’m certain my mom is going to hate it when she finds out.