Chapter 16 Joe
While Jason was gone, I put myself back to work.
The tools on the porch were placed in the basement.
I still had my painting stuff out, so the kitchen was my priority.
It took a surprisingly long amount of time to paint the cabinets.
Because I was stubborn, and I wanted to do it right.
Which had meant a lot of prep before the final coating of robin’s egg blue could be added.
Maybe that was my problem.
And why I couldn’t seem to get anything done.
Because I was aiming for perfection.
Maybe I needed to learn to let that go, but I genuinely didn’t know how.
The pressure only continued to build the longer I worked.
When Jason returned from the grocery store, I was genuinely relieved.
I heard him before I saw him, the front door opening after a light knock that I ignored.
I figured I’d finish up what I was doing so I wouldn’t make a mess.
Besides…I’d shown him the house already.
He knew where every wayward nail was; he could handle himself.
Just thinking about the fact that he’d seen my most vulnerable space and hadn’t batted an eye filled me with warmth.
Jason had proved that I could trust him.
He didn’t judge or belittle me.
Simply looked at me the way he always did, with sincerity, and the need to be close. That look was growing on me, too. Just like he was. Like a fucking barnacle.
My favorite barnacle.
That wasn’t a thought I’d ever expected I’d have about chatty Jason from the grocery store. Which was…surreal. But somewhere, somehow over the last few weeks, he really had become my friend. Privately, I admitted, the best friend I’d ever had.
He came in through the front door what felt like fifty times before he found me in the kitchen. When I’d hollered to ask if he needed help, he’d very firmly told me, “No. I got this.”
I believed him.
Jason hovered in the doorway as I worked on painting the interior of one of the cabinet doors.
It was the second coat, and things were finally starting to come together.
The natural wood would’ve been prettier, probably, but I’d had to fill in about a thousand scratches and dings, and figured, after sanding, this was the better option.
“I’m going to squeeze by you to get some stuff in the fridge,” Jason said. His coat was damp when it brushed against me.
There was something…off about him.
I frowned, turning my attention away from the brush in my hand to his face.
He wasn’t looking at me.
Instead, he yanked the fridge open and began stacking food items with a vengeance. Working quickly. Efficiently. I couldn’t help but admire his work ethic. Had he always been this way? And this…capable?
Had I been too blinded by how loud he was to see that?
“Thanks,” I said, cheeks a little hot.
“Sure thing, big guy,” Jason replied. Then he was out of the kitchen again.
He returned in a blink with another armful of bags.
My eyes widened a little, brush held still once more.
Rinse and repeat. Jason stacked the fridge full of eggs, bacon, milk, cheese, butter.
Then he was gone and back with yet another set of bags.
I hadn’t expected that.
I didn’t know what to do with half the stuff he’d just put in my fridge.
What the hell?
My silence must’ve been particularly loud because Jason finally looked at me. He had a bottle of jam in one hand. Strawberry, my favorite. His pale eyes were stormy, then soft, as a laugh bubbled out of him.
“What’s that look for?” he asked, amused at my expense. “You’d think you’d never seen a full fridge before.”
“I expected TV dinners,” I explained. “When I asked you to go.” It was what I always bought. He knew that. He always watched me.
“I got those, too,” Jason smirked.
“Oh.” For a second, we just stared at each other.
There was something charged in the air I couldn’t put a name to.
This anxious sort of energy. Was it coming from me or him?
I had no idea. I resumed painting, ducking my head and focusing on my task.
At the same time, Jason went back to filling my fridge.
We worked in tandem.
In silence.
He was going far faster than I was. I prolonged every brush stroke because I knew it would give me an excuse to be in here while he was finishing up. And Jason…well…if I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was trying to move fast so he could leave.
For the first time since we’d become friends, it felt like he wanted to get away from me. Why? Maybe I was overthinking things, worrying, because I was too tired to properly function.
As though he was just as uncomfortable with the silence as I was, Jason began to babble as he worked. His tone was chipper, but it felt false. Nothing about him had ever felt like that before.
“Madison says hi, by the way,” Jason chattered, shoving a billion onions into the vegetable drawer in my fridge. “She helped me shop a bit. Good ole Madison.”
“She has a coffee addiction,” I said, surprised when the words came out. Not because they weren’t true, but because I wasn’t sure why I’d said them. At least…until I saw Jason’s reaction.
He froze, swiveling to look at me, eyes wide.
“Oh my god.” He looked hilarious with a cluster of garlic in his hand and his eyebrows climbing his face. “Did you just talk smack?” My cheeks flushed as a frankly heinous smile spread across his face. “I never thought I’d see the day. Are we gossiping? We’re totally gossiping.”
“Me neither,” I replied honestly. “And no we’re not.”
I realized now I’d only said that to make him smile.
A real one.
The kind I’d become accustomed to having aimed my way.
“Tell me something else,” Jason demanded. “Something snarky. A rumor. Anything.”
“What?”
“C’mon, Joe.” Jason’s grin was wolfish. “I know you’ve got more. Let it rip. I am quaking in my metaphorical boots.”
I sighed.
Frowning, I picked through my thoughts until I decided on another thing I thought might make him laugh.
“Mr. Peterson down at the vineyard…”
“Yessss?” Jason was practically vibrating.
“He…uh. Have you ever noticed that he always has his shirts on inside out?”
“I thought I was the only one who noticed that!” Jason outright cackled. “I had no idea you were a lil judgy judger, Joe.” I wasn’t going to stop flushing anytime this century, it seemed. “That’s cute.”
Cute?
In what universe was me judging people cute?
I made a sound, and Jason continued to grin. Only, his grin turned hollow a moment later. Aaaand we were back to being false again. The warmth was gone. Like before, he’d been giving me the sun, and now all I had was an LED bulb. It was still nice. But…it wasn’t what it’d been.
Was he worried about the storm?
Is that what was happening?
Admittedly, I hadn’t looked out the window. Maybe it was getting bad out there, and he needed to get home. The idea of him leaving so soon made me genuinely disappointed.
The truth was…I liked Jason.
There was a reason I’d wanted to be his friend.
There was a reason I’d spent Thanksgiving with him.
There was a reason I’d asked him questions about himself.
I was curious.
I wanted to know him better.
I wanted to let him in.
I…wanted him around.
Even when he was distracting me.
Actually…maybe especially then. His presence made it easier to let go of my need for perfection. I was more alive when he was nearby. More real. Less…terrified of messing things up. More efficient. Less stiff.
Jason disappeared into the front room again, taking his pale eyes and confusing energy with him.
Despite that, I dipped my brush in the paint pail, relaxing only when he returned.
This time, he left the fridge alone, heading toward the kitchen island—blessedly the area I’d already finished painting.
“How much food did you buy?” I asked, a little horrified by the sheer number of grocery bags he was carrying. He dumped them on the counter and began pulling the food out arranging it into neat little piles.
“A…lot,” Jason’s smile was bright but his eyes were dim again.
“Enough to get you through the storm. Maybe the next few weeks.” The next few weeks.
So…that would mean I wouldn’t need to go into town to see him.
That should’ve been convenient but it left a pit in my stomach.
Would that mean I wouldn’t see him till after the holidays were over?
It was nice not to have to stress about this stuff myself, but I couldn’t help but worry that I was missing something crucial here. I’d dodged a bullet, really, having Jason help me shop—that’s what I tried to tell myself, anyway.
The grocery store had way too many choices. And though I wasn’t sure what I’d do with the “ingredients” he’d left in the fridge, the boxes on the counter? Yeah. I could handle those.
Cookies, granola bars, Fruit-by-the-Foot. Gingerbread houses. Cheese crackers.
Jason had good taste in snacks.
Asking for his help hadn’t cost me anything. Which…was a genuinely amazing realization to have.
“I can pay you back for the rest after I go to the bank,” I said, resolutely turning away from him and to the cupboards again. Paint, Joe. Seriously? Stop letting him distract you. “I’ve only got a hundred in cash and I doubt that will cover everything. I can stop by the store and—”
“Oh, Joe,” Jason said in the most patronizing voice I’d ever heard. “You’re not paying me back.”
“What?” Once again, I twisted to look at him. “Yes, I am.”
“No. You’re not.” Jason set the last box down. God, there had to be at least twenty of them. They covered the entire kitchen island. Again, his smile remained, but this time there was something hard in his eyes. That same confidence that made me want to roll over, belly up.
I swallowed.
“So, you just…”
“It’s a gift,” Jason said. “I am taking care of you. As your friend. Ensuring you don’t go hungry when I won’t be coming out here anymore.”
Was this a normal friend thing to do? To…go out and buy your buddies hundreds of dollars’ worth of food? Also…what did he mean he wouldn’t be coming out here anymore?
“Okay,” I conceded, skin hot.
“Good.” Jason’s smile softened a little as he nodded. “And now, I’m going to need to head out. The snow was coming down pretty hard by the time I pulled up. If I don’t leave now, chances are I won’t be doing it.”
Privately, I wondered if that would really be such a bad thing?
Giving up my brush for now, I covered the container with a plastic bag I was using to keep it wet, then brought it to the sink to rinse it.
“I’ll help you clear the snow off your truck,” I said, rushing through the rinse job a little too quickly in my haste to follow Jason out so I could prolong our time together.
“No need,” Jason waved me off. “I’ve got one of those little brush things in the back seat. I can take care of it on my way out.” He turned to look at me, eyes flicking down to my bare arms for a moment. Something flashed in his gaze, that he quickly covered up.
Conflicted, I wasn’t sure if I should ask him to stay when he clearly wanted to go.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “See you later. Thanks for—” Again, my cheeks tingled. “Thanks for lunch. And for…you know…” I trailed off.
“I know,” Jason filled in for me.
On his way past me he gave my nape a tight squeeze.
So tight it hurt a little. Made pleasure zing down my spine, my lashes fluttering shut.
That single touch made my skin feel the right size again.
And then it was gone. Just like he was. Halfway through the kitchen doorway and out of my personal bubble.
“See you around,” Jason called, as he headed through the living room toward the door with an air of finality.
See me around?
He’d never said that to me before. Like seeing me was just something that he’d leave to chance. Had I done something wrong? I wracked my brain to try to figure out what, but Jason was already gone.
Feeling ridiculous, I trailed after him.
Lingering in the living room, I stared out the front window.
Allowing myself an entire minute to watch him shovel his truck off.
A shiver wracked my frame, the snow outside the glass beating against it in what had to be the freakiest snowstorm I’d ever witnessed.
Wind whistled through the holes in the drywall, making the space feel drafty as hell.
I was probably reading too much into things. He’d taken my house in stride, after all. Even went out of his way to do a favor for me. That wasn’t something you did for someone you disliked.
There was a storm raging outside.
He likely just wanted to get home.
It was the exhaustion talking.
Everything was fine.
I just…I wished I could’ve cheered him up, maybe. The way his visit had cheered me up.
As I moved toward the fireplace to get a few logs going, the pang in my chest refused to go away. And the Jason-sized hole in my life had never felt larger.