Chapter 20
I’m sitting in Jake’s truck, feeling baseball-sized butterflies fill my stomach. It’s the day of the pool party, and in approximately ten minutes I will meet every member of Jake’s family. This still perplexes me. I honestly don’t know what I’m doing here. I do know that I’m holding a tin of extra-fudgy brownies in my lap . . . but only because I spent the evening at his house yesterday making them. Sam helped while Jake hovered and kept trying to stick his finger in the batter. I swatted him no less than three times, and the whole thing felt oddly domestic.
I want to love it. I want to let myself be ridiculously happy with what seems to be blooming between us. But I can’t seem to silence the loud voice in my head that won’t stop screaming, What the hell is blooming?!
What am I to Jake?
What is he to me?
We kissed once (granted it was a knock-your-socks-off kiss). But was that a fluke? Neither of us has brought it up, so the longer we go without mentioning it, the more it feels like it never happened.
“What’s going through your head over there?” Jake’s voice makes me jump.
“Huh? Oh. Nothing.”
“Not nothing. You look like you’re about to throw up in the car.”
I laugh, and it sounds silly and put-on like a theatrical dame on Broadway. Ha ha! Oh, Jake, you’re too funny! But yes, I’m totally going to throw up. Nerves are overtaking me. I’m about to meet Jake’s family. I almost chickened out this morning and said I was sick, but Jo texted me before I got the chance and basically forbade it.
JO: I better see photographic evidence of your cutie little bootie in a swimsuit poolside, or I will revoke your use of my washer and dryer.
Rude.She knows my weakness too well: clean underwear.
“I’m fine,” I say, but of course my voice wobbles.
“Are you nervous? My family’s going to love you.” Really? ’Cause mine doesn’t.
A few minutes later we are pulling into Jake’s driveway, and there are already five other cars parked outside, and I’m mentally reminding myself how much I love having clean underwear, otherwise I would be hightailing my ass out of there.
Jake gets out, and I stay put. I don’t mean to, but the superglue I poured on the seat before sitting down is really doing its job.
He looks at me through the window and grins. The door opens. He’s not just being chivalrous; he knows I’m not leaving if he doesn’t pry me out. “Come on, goose. They aren’t going to bite, I swear.”
I hand him the brownies and slide out. My cover-up drags against the seat, and a substantial amount of my leg is revealed in the process. Sure, I’m wearing a bathing suit under this cover-up, and it’s going to come off soon anyway. But in a driveway where Jake is still completely covered and there is not a drop of water in sight, it feels a little scandalous. Sexy.
Jake thinks so too, because he’s trying and failing to hide his wicked grin. His thoughts are all over his face. This is the distraction I needed, though.
I whack his arm. “Can you at least try to be a gentleman?”
“I could, but I don’t really want to.”
Charlie jumps out behind me, and I think he finds this flirting between Jake and me annoying, because he grunts and then sits down right beside us, staring up with the most unamused expression I’ve ever seen.
“All right, Charlie. We’re going.” I wasn’t the one to say that. It was Jake. Which means Jake is now interpreting Charlie’s facial expressions too, and wow, this thing is getting real. There’s no way it can be only in my head.
Speaking of real, Jake takes my hand and guides me into the house. We’re holding hands and walking into a family event. This doesn’t feel like friendship. This feels like dating. But are we? I’ve never felt more confused in my life. I also love Jake’s hands. You would think from all the calluses that he’s a contractor instead of an architect.
We walk through the front door, and Jake only drops my hand to take the brownies from me and set them on the counter. He made fun of me for putting up a big fuss about taking the brownies back to my place so I could bring them over again today. That way everyone would see that I was contributing something to the party. I’m disappointed that no one is here to witness my contribution. Now it just looks like the brownies were here all along!
“Wait. Let’s go back and ring the doorbell so everyone can see me bring in the brownies.”
“You don’t have to come bearing brownies for them to like you.”
“But when has bringing brownies ever hurt anyone’s chances of likability?”
In the next moment, the back sliding door opens, and I’m out of time. I lunge for the brownies so I can hold them in front of me like a peace offering, but Jake is one step ahead and blocks the brownies. Now it looks like I’m lunging for him. Wonderful. He takes it in stride, though, and wraps his arm around my shoulder, holding me pinned to his side. Must get to the brownies.
“Jake, you’re back!” says a little blond woman in a voice that is southern and sweet as iced tea. I don’t know why, but I did not imagine Jake’s mom sounding like Jo. Probably because Jake barely has an accent. But it’s clear from her teased-up hair and drawn-out r’s and a’s that she’s as country as bread pudding at a church potluck.
“Oh, and Evie, honey! You made it!” I don’t think anyone has ever sounded so pleased to meet me in my entire life. Even when I was still wrapped up in my parents’ world as a socialite, no one seemed happy to have me around. I was just another pawn to move around the room. Another person with money and influence to watch their back around. Even when someone was smiling at me I felt loathed.
“EVERYONE! EVIE IS HERE!” she bellows toward the back door.
I’m glad I’m only wearing a bathing suit under this cover-up, because there is definitely some back sweat starting to happen.
“Hi! It’s so nice to mee—”
“Evie!” Sam bursts through the door with Daisy at her side and throws her arms around my waist.
Jake doesn’t let go of me. So, I’m just standing here with one Broaden wrapped around my upper half and another Broaden wrapped around my lower half. And then, suddenly, all the other Broadens are watching, and I’m hyperaware of the picture we must be painting.
“Who’s here? Oh, Evie!” says a happy middle-aged man who comes to stand next to Mrs. Broaden. He looks a lot like Jake.
There are now four other women filing into the kitchen, followed by a trail of various-aged children and spouses to look on too. They are all saying hi and smiling so brightly, and the room is spinning. Why do they all look so happy to meet me? And how does my name sound so comfortable on the lips of people I’ve never met before?
But when Jake squeezes my shoulder, I feel like everything shifts into place. Like one glorious line of Tetris when you can get all the shapes to fit perfectly together. He really likes me. Jacob Broaden likes me. He’s told his family all about me. He’s standing proudly beside me and not letting me go.
Maybe our kiss really was the beginning of something.
The introductions are complete, and I have been given a moment to catch my breath by the pool. Jake and his dad are over by the grill, tossing hot dogs and hamburgers on, and Sam and a few of her cousins are swimming in the pool.
Turns out, Jake has the sweetest family on the face of the earth, and I had nothing to worry about. Who knew that there were people out there with families who actually love one another without secret agendas?
I pull my towel out of my tote bag and drape it over a pool chair. I find myself smiling at the sounds of splashing and laughter. Growing up as an only child with two very formal and career-driven parents meant the only sounds that usually filled our house were that of Dad typing on a laptop and Mom gossiping with her other elitist minions on the phone. Exciting stuff.
“Soooo,” says Jake’s sister June as she plops down, stomach first, onto the pool chair beside me. She has a beautiful big sunflower tattoo that caps her shoulder. “You’re the hottie with the body that my big brother keeps talking about.”
My eyes are the size of oranges.
A shadow falls over me. Jake appears out of nowhere, towering beside my lounge chair. “I never called her that!” he says to his sister before looking down at me. “I never called you that.”
June huffs an offended sound. “So, you’re saying she doesn’t have a hot body? How rude, Jake.”
He gives June a look, and now I’m stuck between two siblings in a game of monkey in the middle. “Cut it out, June.”
“You’re not helping your case. Evie is going to leave today completely sure you don’t think her body is hot. But she looks like she knows better than to care what you think anyway.”
I’m struggling so hard to keep a laugh from bursting free.
“She’s not going to think that.” I like the way Jake’s face is turning the tiniest bit pink, and I wonder if I can push it over the top to red.
I give him a pouty look and decide Jake needs to be the one in the middle now. “I am sort of feeling like you think I’m a troll under a bridge.”
He’s glaring at me but clearly trying not to grin. “Fine, I’ll give. Evie . . . you’ve got a hot body.” Bingo! Jacob Broaden is capable of turning bright red, folks!
I laugh, enjoying the feeling of victory far too much. Jake just rolls his eyes and goes back to the grill with his dad.
“He’s too easy to mess with,” June says, shaking her head with a smile while watching her brother walk away. I like her. She’s spunky and a little wild in the best kind of way. And her watercolor flower tattoo makes me wonder if I would look as cute as her with one. Probably not. Plus, I really don’t like needles, so I dismiss the thought instantly.
“So, are you guys dating?” My eyes shoot to June, and I must look like a deer in the headlights, because she laughs. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“No. It’s not that I don’t want to answer. It’s just . . . I don’t know how to answer.” I fish around in my tote bag for my sunscreen to give my hands something to do. “I think Jake and I are friends right now.”
“Eh, I wouldn’t be so sure. He’s never talked about any of his friends like he’s been talking about you lately.” Not sure what to do with that statement other than try to hide the wings I just sprouted from that surge of joy.
“Oh. Well . . .” I laugh and shrug, letting the conversation dangle out on the line because I really don’t think I should be having a DTR conversation with Jake’s sister before I have one with him.
“What are we talking about, ladies?” Mrs. Broaden rounds our pool chairs in her daisy-printed kimono, gives June a little pat on her bikini-clad rear end like affectionate moms are known to do, then takes the third seat beside us.
“Just trying to figure out if Jake and Evie are dating or not.”
“What!” says Mrs. Broaden so loudly I think the whole neighborhood heard her. All of Jake’s sisters definitely did, because now they are swarming me like a frenzy of sharks. “Honey, of course you’re dating. He brought you around us, didn’t he?” says Mrs. Broaden.
“Oh, well, I—”
Jake’s oldest sister, Jennie, squats down beside my chair. “Isn’t he taking you to a benefit or something next weekend? Sounds like dating to me.”
I open my mouth, but it’s useless because yet another sister, Julia (Mr. and Mrs. Broaden apparently have a thing for J names), leans over the back of my chair. “I don’t know. Jake is pretty friendly in general. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything that he asked her to the benefit. I can totally see him thinking this is nothing but a friendship thing.”
Do I even need to be here for this?
June sits up and crosses her legs. “Have you guys kissed yet? That would totally help us figure out his intentions.”
HA. What?!I’m definitely sweating.
“All right, all right. Everyone shoo,” says Mrs. Broaden, riding in on her white horse. Forget Jake and Charlie; she is my new knight in shining armor. “Evie doesn’t want all these questions, and our meddling is going to do nothing but scare the poor girl away. Go play with your children in the pool and let her catch her breath.” She’s waving them away, and they all disperse.
“So, Evie, you’re the one I get to thank for bringing some happiness back into my son and granddaughter’s life.”
“I can’t take that credit. That’s all Daisy’s doing.”
“Oh really? And did Miss Daisy teach my Sammie how to make brownies last night? Did Daisy convince Jake to have a little more fun in his life and throw a pool party? Did Daisy teach Jake how to paint fingernails?”
I laugh. “Jake’s quite the sharer, isn’t he?”
“It was hard to miss the yellow polish.” She smiles. “But actually, no. Jake’s pretty private about his life. Sam is the open book, and she and I talk every night on the phone. She’s been keeping me apprised of all things Evie Jones.” Her smile turns a little more serious. “She really likes you. And my Sammie is a good judge of character.”
“I think Sam is pretty amazing too.”
We are both quiet for a moment, and I decide I need something to do, so I peel off my cover-up, revealing my bright-yellow polka-dot high-waisted bikini, and apply sunblock to my arms and legs. Jo made fun of me when I picked this swimsuit out in the store, saying that she owns sexier swimsuits than this one, but I don’t care. I like it. It’s cute and sporty, and I don’t have to worry about all my parts falling out during a game of water volleyball.
Yes, I know. . . I’m once again pretending that I have big enough parts to fall out of something, but I can dream.
Mrs. Broaden—or Bonnie, as I’ve now been bid to call her—and I spend the next five minutes shooting the breeze and getting to know each other. No, not true . . . She only wants to talk about me. But I like her. I like her a lot, so I answer all her questions. She’s encouraging and cheerful, and I think she and Jo would hit it off right away if they get to meet one day.
When the conversation winds down, though, she throws me a curveball. “Your mom must be so proud of you, Evie. You’re quite a woman.”
I have to look away as soon as she says those words, because I can feel tears prickling my eyes. This is so not the place to cry over my mommy issues. It’s just that I’ve always dreamed of hearing my mom say something like that to me—and I don’t think I ever will. I’ve had to learn to appreciate myself without her help. To see myself living with epilepsy and recognize that I am strong, not helpless and broken the way my mom has always treated me.
Before Bonnie has a chance to notice my change in demeanor, I turn my head to find a bare-chested man with a gorgeous six-pack and tanned, defined shoulders rushing toward me. I only have time to blink at the vision of sexy masculinity before Jake’s arms go under me and he scoops me out of my chair.
I scream and kick like a child as he jogs us toward the pool.
“What are you doing?!” I yell.
“This is payback, Evie Jones,” says Jake before he jumps off the side and plunges us both into the pool.