Chapter 14
Fourteen
JOE
I t feels just like the old days. I’m at the Moretti house more than I’m at home. Basically when I’m not at work, I’m hanging out there, mostly helping plan the big tribute, but sometimes playing games with Mr. Moretti or watching movies with Sabina. I always sneak into the kitchen to taste whatever it is that Mrs. Moretti is cooking. Gianna and Maia stop by sometimes. And even though I live for those times when Maia comes by, I have to admit that it isn’t the main reason I keep going to the Moretti house.
I keep coming to the Moretti house because it feels like home. Living with my grandparents growing up was fine. They loved me more than anything in the world, and I certainly loved them. I know I need to visit them more. My own parents just weren’t interested in raising me. They were more interested in whatever they were involved in at the time- drugs, alcohol, parties. Their addictions replaced me.
Now that I’m an adult, and I have experienced a decent amount of life on my own, I have a certain understanding about how things work. Instead of anger, I feel a measure of sympathy for both my parents. Albeit selfish and immature, I know now that my mother and father were both caught up in trying to find something to fulfill them, while also trying to escape the responsibilities of being adults and parents. Sad thing is- the things they were trying to ‘get happy’ from were only temporary fixes, never lasting, never real.
I don’t really get it myself. I’ve dealt with enough blows and disappointment in my short life to know something my parents haven’t ever chosen to learn: most of the time, the best things in life — those things really, truly worth attaining — are worth working for; sometimes even waiting for. That’s pretty much what I’ve done, ever since graduating. I’ve worked hard; I’ve taken the failures with the successes and tried to learn from both; I’ve held my head high, through both the good and the not-so-good moments. I’ve found God along the way, too. He’s the key which my parents unfortunately never had or cared to find. Fortunately for me, I looked at their lives and decided I wanted to choose a different way, and thankfully, I did.
Jackie comes into the family room just now, hands me a bowl of chips, and sets two sodas down on the coffee table. She sits down next to me and tucks her feet under herself. If I didn’t know better, I would think that I had traveled back in time again. I remember this exact sort of moment with Jackie back when I was in high school, and she must have been in elementary school. Even back then, I thought she was such a cool kid. She’s turned into an even cooler adult.
“So it looks like everything is just about ready for the Tribute,” she says. “Violet told me that they’ve sold almost five hundred tickets, and that they have some big donors for the silent auction.”
“It’s really awesome of Violet and Robert to jump in and help like they are,” I say. “They really didn’t need to.”
Jackie gives me a look like I’ve lost my mind. She shakes her head. “Uh, no. They definitely needed to jump in. This thing is going to help fund the hospital’s program for at least a year or more. We could not have done that on our own.”
“You’re right,” I concede.
We lapse into silence for a long moment. The Moretti house is just like I remember it, and that’s more comforting than I could have realized. It even smells like it did growing up. Slightly musty, but in the best way. Like libraries and attics full of excitement. Today it also smells like whatever Mrs. Moretti has in the crock pot. And let me tell you, it smells delicious. I’m hoping I get invited to stay for dinner. No matter what it is, the food will be good, I know that without a doubt. Everything about this house just smells and tastes and feels like… home.
“So, should we get on with this painting lesson?” Jackie asks, bringing me back to reality.
“Uh, sure,” I say. I’m not sure why I let her talk me into this whole scheme. She really has been excited about what she’s been learning from Violet. I asked her to show me, but she said that I really needed to experience it for myself, if I was going to understand. So I said sure.
Now, Jackie gestures to the small canvases laid out on the coffee table in front of us. There are little jars of paint with paint brushes sticking out of them next to the canvas, as well as jars of water and a whole roll of paper towels. I think about making some kind of joke about how messy she thinks I’ll be, but I can’t seem to form the thought.
She flips on some jazz music. “Now,” she says. “All you have to do is paint along to the music.”
“What?” I ask.
“Well… don’t think ,” she says. “Just feel .”
I have absolutely no idea what she is talking about. When I glance over at what she’s been doing, I’m shocked to see that her canvas definitely looks like a painting. Jackie notices that I am struggling, and she laughs lightly. Not in a mean way, and I can’t help but think what a pretty laugh she has.
“Just start,” she gently encourages.
When I don’t move, she reaches over and grabs my hand, guiding it to a jar of blue paint. I grab the paint brush, and she guides my hand back to the canvas. I catch her gaze and we just sit there like that for a long moment. My mind is racing. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now, with the painting or with Jackie.
I’m vaguely aware that I’m attracted to this version of Jackie, but I can’t put the thought into a clear one. Why haven’t I ever realized how amazing she is before now? I guess I have always thought of her as more of my ‘little sister’… until running into her when I got back here to Cranberry Creek, of course. She’s definitely not a little girl anymore… and this beautiful, intelligent, confident, caring woman in front of me is something really special. I wonder if…
I open my mouth to say something to her, when the front door slams, jarring us both back to reality.
“That didn’t sound good,” I say.
“Yeah, I wonder if it’s Sabina,” she says. I can hear the worry in her voice.
“We should go see who it is,” I suggest.
“Yeah, we definitely should,” Jackie says, but not before tilting her head and looking at me for a moment with a gentle thoughtful smile, like she’s considering something in her head; like she wants to say something to me. But then she comes back to the present moment and quickly sets her paintbrush down in a jar of water, standing up. I do the same and follow her out of the family room.
I can already hear the crying as I step into the hallway. I’m not sure that I should get involved in this, but I’ve already come this far. I can’t turn back now. When we get to the entryway, I’m surprised to see that it’s Maia. Jackie seems surprised, too, but she doesn’t hesitate to cross the small space and pull her older sister into a close hug.
“Maia, what’s wrong?” Jackie asks.
Maia tries to control her sobbing but can’t, so we wait in awkward silence while she gulps and hiccups. I feel like I should comfort her, too, but I don’t know how she’d feel about that. I definitely don’t want to overstep my bounds.
“Julius and I…we broke up,” Maia says between sobs.
“Oh no,” Jackie says, though I don’t think she means it. She’s alluded to the fact that she doesn’t think that Julius is such a great guy. “What happened?”
Maia sniffles again. “He just wasn’t who I thought he was. I caught him in a lie, and instead of telling me the truth, he doubled down on the lie. You know how I hate being lied to.”
“That sucks,” Jackie says, rubbing Maia’s back. “Is it a final kind of break-up, or do you think you might get back together?”
“What does that matter?” Maia asks.
“Well, it’ll tell me how much I can drag down Julius. If you aren’t getting back together, I can go full-on scorched Earth; but if you might get back together, I’ll soften my approach,” Jackie says. Maia laughs a little, but the next moment another sob comes out. “Do you want to come paint with me and Joe? It’s very therapeutic.”
“No, thanks,” Maia says. “I’m just going to go out back to get some fresh air.”
Jackie and I are silent as we watch her go. I bite my lower lip. This is my chance. I can feel it in my bones. If I go comfort Maia now, I have a shot at changing her feelings for me. She might start to see me as more than a friend. I can’t let that go to waste.
“Do you think I should go see if Maia is okay?” I ask.
When I glance over at her, I see Jackie’s jaw hanging open in apparent disbelief. “Are you kidding me?” Jackie asks.
I’m confused. “So you don’t think that I should go check on her?” I ask.
This is one of those moments where I feel like I am in a lose-lose situation with Jackie, no matter what I choose. It isn’t like when we were kids, and I could make her laugh to get her out of a bad mood. Now, there doesn’t seem to be anything that I can do. I opened my mouth, and now I must proceed. Unfortunately, I have a feeling it’s not going to end well with Jackie.
“Joe, seriously?” Jackie says.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to make sure Maia is okay?” I ask.
“Wow, Joe, that’s a low blow. Of course I want to make sure Maia is okay, but she literally just said that she wanted to get some fresh air. I know she needs a little space,” Jackie says. “She’ll come back in if- and when- she wants to talk.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “Don’t people who have gone through a break-up actually want comfort?”
“And space,” Jackie says.
We lapse into an intense silence, and I feel like I’m in some kind of stand-off. Finally, Jackie takes a step back, and looks at me like she’s challenging me. I’ve seen this look before. When we were younger, the two of us could be incredibly competitive.
“Are we still painting?” she asks.
I don’t know what to say. On one hand, I do want to go back to what we were doing. I was having fun, and something was definitely happening between me and Jackie. I didn’t have time to process the spark, but maybe if we went back, I would. On the other hand, I’ve been in love with Maia my whole life. This might be my only chance to prove it to her. And those old sparks will never go away, I’m convinced, if I don’t see if there’s even a slight possibility that they could ignite into something with Maia.
“Can we postpone it?” I ask, figuring this is a good compromise. We’ll still do the painting, but I can go comfort Maia now.
Jackie stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Just forget it, Joe.”
Then she turns on her heel and stomps down the hall back to the family room. I don’t understand why she’s so mad. We’ll still do the painting. Just, later. And now she doesn’t have to be the only one to comfort Maia. It seems like a win-win to me. I shake my head to clear my thoughts as I head out to the back porch.