Chapter Sixteen ADAM
Chapter Sixteen
ADAM
Jackie stares out the window, quiet again, as we fly over endless lakes and pine-covered ridges that stretch all the way to the Canadian border. She hasn’t said much since we got the OK to leave from Logan and Derrick.
At least she’s more at ease around me after our little talk on the balcony. It’s better than the constant suspicion. The way she’s been watching me, waiting for me to slip up so she can prove she was right. That I was a ticking time bomb all along.
Dragging Carter’s friendship into the mix was my last resort. The truth about how I still feel, even if it doesn’t make any sense? That would send her running halfway back across the world. But if this is what it takes to have her not hate me, I’ll live with that.
The only reason I’m flying private is for Jackie’s safety.
I don’t mind either way, but it always reminds me of the absolute horror on one of my Harvard classmates’ faces when his dad told him their jet had a technical issue.
The only seats left during Christmas time were in economy.
It was just a two-hour flight, but he acted like he’d been asked to ride home in the back of a wagon.
Meanwhile, I’d never even been on a plane. My parents and I drove all the way from Minnesota when I started school, the pickup crammed to the roof for move-in day.
“Are you sure your parents won’t mind us bringing all of this,” she says, gesturing to the security team spread throughout the cabin, “to their doorstep?”
It’s cute that she’s nervous. They’ve met a handful of times, and ever since, my mom has made it her personal mission to remind me how wonderful Jackie is.
“Mom’s probably already made enough tater tots to feed a small army,” I say. “You know how she is.”
She rubs her lips together, leans back on the seat, hands clasped in her lap. “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.”
I reach into the pocket of my jacket and hold out a wrapped candy. She studies it for a beat, but plucks it from my fingers with delicate grace and unwraps it.
“No one knows where you’re going. It’ll be fine.” I shift in my seat, catching her gaze. “The truth is, Dad sounded more excited to see you than his favorite son. In the end, I had to tell him. Or he would’ve thought the government was finally coming for him, with all the suits traveling with us.”
“You’re his only son.”
“Technicalities. Just don’t get roped into the garage to check out his Sportster. That’ll turn into a never-ending show-and-tell.”
Her lips twitch. “He still has it?”
“I got him a special prosthetic for the grip.” Mom tried to convince him to sell it after the accident at the lumber mill, but he’s too stubborn. It would take more than a missing limb to make him give it up.
“I bet your mom is thrilled about that.”
“She thinks it’s hot,” I shudder. “Something about men in leather and motorcycles. Please don’t ask her about it. I’ve heard enough stories about being the product of the chrome club.”
Jackie snorts, shaking her head. “Oh, now sex stories bother you. It’s funny considering—”
Her entire face morphs with dread, and she clamps her mouth shut.
“Considering what, Jackie?”
Her cheeks are pink, but her tone is cool. “Well, you weren’t exactly shy in college. I could hear you, you know. When you, Carter, and Logan were in the den during spring breaks.”
My heart falls to the bottom of my stomach with a splash, heat creeping up my neck.
“We were stupid kids,” I say, the words barely squeezing out. “Talking stupid shit, mostly to get under Carter’s skin.”
Jackie’s elegant brow arches, but her tone has a weird inflection. “Were the stories true?”
“Why does it matter? It was all before….” I can’t bear to say it. Before us. Before I put every piece of myself in her hands and never looked back.
Something sad shifts in her expression, but it dissolves quickly. “Was it?”
I stare at her. The meaning of the question slips through my fingers like water. I never so much as looked at another woman while we were together.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re beginning our descent and preparing for landing.” The pilot’s voice crackles through the speakers. “We expect to touch down in approximately fifteen minutes. Please make sure your seatbelt is fastened.”
Around us, the others begin shuffling to their seats, buckles clinking. Jackie fiddles with hers, then leans back, looking out the small, round window again, shutting me out.
This isn’t the place for this conversation. So I say nothing. The silence swells between us, dense and murky, while the plane dips lower through the clouds.
The driver and the guard in the passenger seat are focused on the road as the large SUV zooms through the thick forest. A hundred questions burn the roof of my mouth, but I bite them back.
I can’t risk opening Pandora’s box in the car.
The more I flip her words on every side, the more her tone reeked of a lot more hidden beneath the surface.
“This is beautiful,” Jackie says, craning her neck to get a better look at the dark green wall of trees bordering the winding road.
I silently lean over her legs to lower the tinted window. She tilts her head into the rush of incoming air, playing through her blonde strands, her chest rising with a deep inhale.
“Is that…an eagle?” She points toward the river flowing in and out of view, her mouth parting in awe.
“Don’t get any ideas. You’ve had enough playtime with wild animals.”
She smirks and stage-whispers. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the big bad bird.”
The driver hides a laugh behind a cough. In the rearview mirror, the security detail smothers his amusement, but he doesn’t say anything.
“We’re here.” I point to the crooked, weathered, hand-painted green town sign ahead.
Maple Hollow. Population 650.
The patched road narrows, tar seams thumping under the wheels, the forest closing in, and suddenly there’s the Pump N’ Munch gas station on our left.
“Adam.” My name wobbles with the barely contained laughter. Her head is still whipped toward the passing neon logo, shoulders shaking.
I bite back my own smile. “Please don’t. I’ve heard all the jokes.”
“I bet they’re all so eager to tell you,” she goes on, eyes shining, “that the punchline comes…prematurely.”
A distressed groan leaves my chest, and this time, both men laugh as we roll into Main Street, with its low buildings on each side. None taller than two stories around here.
“That’s the general store.” I point her to a wood-sided building, where two middle-aged men in cutoff shorts and fishing T-shirts laugh. “It doubles as a post office. And the town hall and fire station are in the same building.” I nod to another weathered brick building.
In the middle of town, the only stoplight is permanently set to blinking yellow.
“The mayor and fire chief are the same person, in the name of efficiency?” Jackie asks jokingly.
“At some point, it happened.”
She smiles to herself. “You weren’t kidding about the small in small-town.”
I’ve never talked too much about Maple Hollow. Not that I’m embarrassed by the past. I had a great childhood. Loving family. Friends who’d ask what car we were taking if I ever needed to bury a body.
But in rooms filled with people whose families built half of New York, I learned early on not to lead with this. Not to give them a reason to disqualify me from the start.
Not even Jackie could look past that.
“Did you think I was making it up for pity points?”
“I’m sure it garnered some sympathy with the ladies.”
This again. “It worked with you.”
“It had nothing to do with it.” She peels her attention off the view outside, her hair still swirling. When she stares into my soul like this, I get the urge to bring her closer and kiss her, but then she squashes any fantasy. “But I was obviously wrong.”
Tearing my skin on barbed wire would hurt less.
We pass modest homes with gravel driveways and mailboxes with names written by hand.
By the time the wheels of the SUV crunch to a halt in front of my childhood home, I’m still scrambling to put myself together.
Guilt jams in my throat, looking at the old two-story farmhouse.
It badly needs a new lick of paint, and I have to figure out a way to get it done without tipping off my parents.
They’re already upset I paid off the house.
For my dad’s medical debts, I had to invent a “retroactive insurance policy” I could put them on.
I’m not proud of lying to them, but I couldn’t stand back and do nothing to help.
They don’t care how much money I have now. From their point of view, they’re still the parents, and I’m the kid who should let them figure stuff out.
Months have slipped by since my last visit, and while my parents won’t admit they’re getting older, I can’t ignore how little I’ve stepped up recently.
Out back, the door to the screened-in sunroom that faces the woods flies open, and my mom darts down the stairs with a big smile, warm eyes lighting up when she spots Jackie climbing out of the car.
She’s smaller and frailer than I remembered, her neat bun entirely gray now, but it doesn’t stop her from lunging forward, wrapping Jackie in a bear hug.
“Welcome, dear! I can’t believe this boy who talks even in his sleep kept you a secret.” But she doesn’t stop there. “Every time he calls, he’s all ‘Did you read the article I sent you?’” She tries to imitate me. “‘Jackie got an award for this and that.’”
Jackie’s smile falters for a second, but she bounces back, smiling wide, her training kicking in. “Entirely my fault. I wanted to surprise you.”
My mom beams, and I swear Jackie’s worries melt right off her shoulders.
“I missed you, too, Mom,” I deadpan. “Where’s my hug?”
Mom levels me with a flat stare. “Only child syndrome,” she tuts. “Should’ve given him some siblings.”
“He doesn’t like to share the spotlight,” Jackie says, amused.