Chapter Twenty-One #3
Jake’s eyes met mine across the table. Then he glanced sideways to see everyone staring at him.
“Pass,” he said. I deflated, leaning back in my chair. What song would he have chosen? Who would he have dedicated it to? “I don’t have an answer.” He shoved a piece of orange chicken into his mouth. “Leon?”
Leon stared at him. “Speak now.”
Jake choked on his food. “What?”
“‘Speak Now,’” Leon said again, looking over at me and beaming angelically. “By Taylor Swift.”
Huh, nice. “I didn’t know you were a fan.”
“What can I say? She’s a great lyricist. And I’d dedicate the song to whoever needed to speak up.”
“‘You Are in Love,’” Aspen stated. We all swiveled to look at him. “Another great song she wrote.”
Jake glared. “You know what else she wrote? ‘No Body, No Crime.’”
What was this all about?
Wait, was it about “Lovely, Aren’t Ya”? Because it would’ve already been a love song dedicated to Livie, right? So, technically, Jake’s bandmates already knew his answer.
Actually, now that I thought about it, it was the message boards and gossip sites that declared Jake must’ve written it for Livie since they were dating at the time, and Livie who hinted she was his muse.
Jake never actually commented about it himself.
I wondered why. Was it really that hard for Jake to get his feelings out? Or was it something else?
“Just leave it, guys,” Jake muttered.
“So touchy,” Aspen remarked, bopping Jake on the nose with the end of his chopstick.
Before a fight could break out, Phillip reached over and snatched the chopstick from Aspen, earning him a grunt of irritation.
“Thanks for having us over before we left, Ms. Melrose,” Phillip said, changing the subject and beaming across the table at Mom.
He had his magazine-worthy smile on again, except it didn’t look fake this time.
It looked real, like he was enjoying himself.
“When we’re doing band stuff, we don’t really get to go home and have family dinners. This is nice.”
“It’s Diana,” Mom insisted. “And you boys are always welcome here.”
Leon looked delighted. “Really?”
“Of course,” Mom said. “Have band family dinner. See a kitten. Drop by if you ever pass by here on tour again. It’s an open invitation.”
“Cool,” Aspen said, nodding appreciatively.
I watched them all, surprised they warmed to the idea so quickly. Could they like the idea of us being there for them too?
Jake smiled happily at Mom before he looked over at me and noticed my stare. But this time, I couldn’t bring myself to care that he’d caught me.
Once he left, I thought that’d be it, and he wouldn’t ever return to Somerset.
But what if he did?
Jake’s gaze stayed locked on mine. Quietly, as if just for me, he said, “Coming back here sounds really nice.”
I didn’t look away, I just took him in, sitting at my dining table, looking like he belonged—looking like he wanted to belong.
Was he something I could actually have?
The thought hit me like a freight train, scarily fast and knocking me flat.
Jake may want to come back, but what were the odds that he would leave, we’d both be busy beginning the next chapter of our lives, and he’d be just as terrible at staying in touch with me again? We’d lose each other a second time.
Jake disappeared before.
Why would this time be different?
***
After the boys left—quietly and through the side door, just like they’d arrived, so Isabelle didn’t notice her favorite band was next door and accidentally blow their cover—I went back into the kitchen to clean up, and Mom followed me in.
“Dinner was nice,” she said. An understatement. “Lively.”
I grinned. Another understatement.
“I’m going to miss family dinners,” she mused to herself.
Anxiously, I pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen out of my French braid and into my face. As much as my conversation with Mom had given me to consider, I still couldn’t picture leaving her.
“Lucy,” Mom said gently, noticing the tension that started taking over my body, “the important things will still be the same when you come back. You know that.”
I did. Or, at least I hoped The Tiny Tiger would still be around to come back to.
But knowing that leaving didn’t mean I was abandoning everyone didn’t mean I totally believed it was a good idea yet.
Especially since I’d be moving away at the same time things would be harder for Mom at the café and at home with me gone.
And if something did fall apart or she had a setback with her healing, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.
I wanted to take the scholarship—and knew Mom wanted me to take it too—but in the back of my mind, I still clung to the thought of staying instead. Wouldn’t my being here to help keep my home safer?
“You’ve held everything together so well,” Mom told me, as if sensing my thoughts. “I know you’re thinking of what you might lose if you’re not here. But maybe you should also think of yourself, and everything you will lose if you don’t go.”
New experiences. Vet school. Doing good on a wider scale. Getting to expand on the passion I already felt about working with animals.
The idea sent a pang of regret through me.
Ever since Mom’s accident and the café taking a turn for the worse, I’d been so laser-focused on what I had and what I didn’t want to risk. I spent much less time thinking about what else I’d never gain.
Maybe that was a mistake.
“Regrets like this tend to always come back around,” Mom told me. “You know, like old friends.”
I eyed her, seeing where she was going with this. I was getting a chat about college and Jake?
“You’re on a roll tonight,” I said.
“I see why Jake’s still your favorite,” Mom continued, undeterred. “Or is it your bias? Is that how you say it now? Jake’s your bias?”
“Mom.”
“I think that’s what you kids call it now. Or is it, you’re a ‘Jake girlie’?”
“Stop.”
“All right, all right,” Mom said, grinning a little too wide. “I’m just saying, he’s a nice boy. I like him too.”
“Please do not call yourself a Jake girlie,” I begged, while Mom sputtered with laughter.
“Well,” she said, “I’m still glad he came back.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Me too.”