Chapter 3
THREE
“Dad is going to be so shocked,” Emma says hours later with a giggle as she looks around her room.
While we were cleaning, we found the vision board Wren and I helped her make at the beginning of the year, of all the things she wanted to do during the year.
It’s something Wren and I started with Mrs. King when we were kids, and we’ve continued it into adulthood.
Once a year, Wren, Nat, and I get together to eat, drink, and cut up magazines, setting goals and aspirations for the year ahead.
Somewhere in my room, I have years and years’ worth of vision boards, a lifetime of dreams and desires and aspirations.
Last January, Emma heard Wren and me planning our vision board night and begged us to do one with her, too. Later that week, we met at Wren’s place after school, armed with magazines, stickers, poster boards, and glue, and had a girls’ night with the youngest King.
When we unearthed Emma’s board, she noted that some things—like getting into the town soccer championship or graduating from fifth grade—had already been accomplished.
Others, like learning to do her makeup or redecorating her room, weren’t.
Loving a plan, and with barely a week of the year left, I decided we should try to knock out as many of them as possible while she was on break.
Since we were already halfway through cleaning her room, we finished that task, reorganized and moved her furniture around, and then ordered her some new decorations for her room on my phone.
She promised to pay me back with the Christmas money her dad has, and I agreed, knowing full well I wouldn’t accept it.
Afterward, we put together a simple dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup, which we kept warm in the kitchen.
Jesse might not be happy I’m here, but I’ve been around long enough to know that the week after Christmas is always tiring for the guys as they take down the decorations and put them away for next year.
He shouldn’t have to come home and worry about dinner, too.
But now that he’s here, that panic and nervous energy are brewing in my stomach once more, cresting as the door creaks open. Emma turns to me with wide, excited eyes, the complete opposite of how I feel in this moment.
“Emma?” he calls, confusion clear in the word.
“In here!” The telltale sound of boots on hardwood floors gets louder before his presence fills the doorway. “Tada!” Emma shouts with a flourish, her arms moving as if she’s a game show model showing off the grand prize.
His eyes scan the room, and I force myself not to scan him, his worn baseball hat on backward, a worn Three Kings hoodie hanging off his shoulders perfectly, and a pair of old jeans that I know from experience if he turned around would fit his ass perfectly—
Jesus, Hallie, there’s a child in the room.
And it’s your best friend’s brother.
And it can and could never happen.
“What do you think?” Emma asks, and I snap myself out of my internal debate.
“Your room is clean,” Jesse says, shock written all over his face, the mustache he started growing three or four years ago quirking a bit with his joy-filled awe.
“And the living room!”
“I saw.” Then his head turns to look at me, and I get the full force of the handsomeness that is Jesse King. “You cleaned her room?”
I shake my head. “Emma did it.”
His eyes widen then, somehow that being even more of a shock. “You convinced her to clean her room?”
I smile then, a genuine one. “It was her idea.”
It’s not a lie, even though I very heavily guided her in the direction I wanted her to go. From the mix of shock and relief written across his face, I know it was a good choice.
“I cleaned the living room so I could have a fashion show, and then I cleaned my room because I remembered on my vision board, I wanted to redecorate my room this year. Remember when I told you all the things I wanted to do this year?” Emma asks, and I fight back a laugh as she barely even waits for her dad to nod.
“Well, Hallie and I found the list, so we’re doing a last-minute race to get them all done.
I don’t think we’ll get them all done, since, like, you probably won’t let me get a cat.
” She pauses just long enough to see if Jesse will proclaim his love for cats and the idea of his daughter getting a pet, but when he stays silent, she continues.
“But the others, we’re totally doing. Come on, I’ll show you dinner.
Hallie and I made it.” She tips her head toward the kitchen, then moves around us and out the door, leaving Jesse and me in her small room.
“I, uh…” I take in a deep breath. “I hope this was okay. I figured getting her room clean was worth a little redecorating.” I gesture toward the project we worked on today.
“Considering I was concerned things were living in here, yes. A little bribery is definitely worth a clean room.”
A moment passes, his eyes on mine, his mouth opening then closing as if he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. Then again, he doesn’t have to. Despite himself, Jesse has always had an incredibly expressive face, and right now, reluctant gratitude lies there.
I give him a soft look before nodding and taking a step out of her room.
“Anyway. Dinner is in the oven. Emma knows the deal, and you’ll need to help her get the sandwiches out of the oven.
” I move down the hall toward the front door, and he follows me.
“Did eight this morning work? Or should I try earlier or later tomorrow? Just let me know.” I try to keep my tone as light as possible.
“Eight works.”
I nod, but don’t turn around. “Cool. Okay. Bye, Emma! See you tomorrow!” I call out toward the kitchen.
“Bye, Hallie, thanks for hanging out with me!”
I reach the mudroom and grab my jacket, sliding it on almost frantically before putting on my shoes.
“I’ll walk you out,” Jesse says, and I fight back a groan.
Madden almost always walks me to my car on the days when I work from the small office on the farm, so I know arguing it is a lost cause.
Mrs. King raised those boys with manners, and even though they’re both grown, when they’re on the King property, they still fear the wrath of Mrs. King.
Still, I try.
“There’s no need,” I say with a shake of my head anyway, but he ignores me.
I let out a quiet sigh of defeat as I dig through my bag to find my keys before stepping into the biting December cold.
Quietly, we walk to my car, his boots crunching on the gravel, the only sound between us.
I think I’m home free, my hand on the door handle, but before I can pull it, his voice breaks the silence.
“Was Emma okay with you?”
When I look over at him, his face is unreadable, so I answer the best I can, giving him a small, forced smile.
“Yeah. She was great. We messed around with some of her Christmas gifts, cleaned her room, made some plans for the week, and then she wanted to learn to make something for dinner. It’s nothing special, but she did almost all of it herself, so she’s really excited.”
He nods, hesitating as if he wants to say more, but he shakes his head and stops himself.
I pull the door of my car open fully, his hand reaching out to grab the top and hold it open for me, and I snap. Maybe it’s the anxiety of the day and knowing that more of the same is coming tomorrow, or perhaps it’s the way he suddenly looks so tired. Either way, I speak without thinking.
“Are you okay?” I ask, and he looks as surprised as I feel that the words left my mouth.
“What?” I shift, leaning against the side of my car to face him fully, and crossing my arms on my chest. Might as well get this over with now, so I can get on with the week knowing where I stand. Where we stand.
“Are you okay? With this? Me being here, helping out, and watching Emma?” A moment passes, and I bite back the inherent need to continue to ramble and explain and fill in the silence. Eventually, a reluctant Jesse speaks.
“Yeah. We’re good. You’re good with her.”
I stare at him, so many unspoken words hanging in the freezing cold between us, tangible in the clouds our breathing creates.
“I just…I know you were annoyed this morning about my watching Emma, and I know I’m not as good with kids as Wren, but I promise everything was okay today. I made sure we followed your rules, or at least the ones—” He shakes his head, and I stop my rambling.
“No, no. It’s not that. Wren deserves to have some time to herself. I’m just having a rough go of it with her lately and wasn’t sure if she was being a brat with you.”
I nod, understanding, but I still can’t let it go.
I can’t sleep tonight knowing I’m coming here tomorrow without a firm answer.
“But this.” I gestured between us. “Us. We’re good?
” A long beat passes, and his eyes bore into me in a way that Jesse King has always been good at.
I hold my breath, waiting before finally, he nods.
“Yeah. We’re good, Hal.”
Hal. A nickname I once hated, considering it a boy’s name, then begrudgingly accepted because it was Jesse saying it, then missed when he stopped.
A name I hadn’t heard in almost a year, and definitely not in that soft, sweet tone. We stand there quietly, both of us looking at the other, lost in our own thoughts for a moment before I break the silence once more.
“Okay, well, good. Then, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, my voice soft as I force my body to move.
His hand stays on the top of my door as he watches me slide into my car and turn the key in the ignition.
Then he nods at me, a small thing that holds all those unspeakable words that still linger.
I hope he never says them.
“Later, Hal,” he says, then slams my door.
I put the car in drive, turning out of the gravel drive in front of his house and down the road toward town. As I drive down the familiar road, I let myself take in the first deep breath since he came home.
One day down, eight to go.