Chapter 31
lovelillibet There’s no way for any of us to know what we look like to other people. We might be out there stressing about our clothes or the weird thing our hair is doing and then someone passes us on the street and the only thing they notice is our earlobes.
I think the takeaway here is, why bother? You can’t control it, so we might as well let it ride. Think of all the time I’ve saved over the course of my life by not brushing my hair.
Sincerely, Libby
Image: A person with long messy blonde hair covering their face.
#scruffyforlife #noskills #whodis
The rental car’s navigation system directed Jefferson to a gravel lot off the highway. It was only a few miles from where they’d stayed before, but light-years removed in style. Everything about this place said, Relax, feel the breeze, eat something good. As opposed to, Be careful with my museum-quality faucets.
The sense of place was so strong it brought back all the feelings from the last time he’d experienced this honeyed light and the bracing tang of the ocean. It was like déjà vu, only instead of a prickle of awareness, he was swimming in regret and longing. What if she didn’t want to talk to him? He was the one who’d left without giving her a chance to explain.
Keoki’s eyes widened when Jefferson approached the window of the food truck. He looked him over, lips pursed like he was considering whether to fry Jefferson whole or slice him into sashimi. When he saw the package of shrimp crackers sticking out of Jefferson’s bag, Keoki gave a grudging nod.
“She’s in back.”
The “she” in question rounded the corner of the trailer before Jefferson could get there, pulling something off her head as she stepped into view. Her long hair tumbled free, glinting gold in the afternoon light.
For a heartbreaking second, Jefferson worried Keoki had tipped her off and she was running away. Then their eyes met, and the sun rose for the second time that day, filling him with the molten glow of morning.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered, still standing where she’d frozen at the sight of him.
“Hildy asked me to give you this.” He handed her the marked-up pages that had been express-mailed to his apartment.
He watched the confusion give way to surprise. “My story?”
“She had some notes.” Presented on actual paper in red ink, because Hildy figured that would appeal to a “more traditional audience,” as she’d explained via Post-it. That was apparently a diplomatic way of saying “old.”
“I—don’t think I can think about that right now. I mean, thank you. But. Um. Words. What even are they?” Libby looked at the ground. “Is that why you came?”
“I’m your photographer.” Hopefully in more ways than one.
“Oh.” She scuffed the gravel with the toe of her sneaker. “Is that the only reason you’re here?”
Jefferson shook his head, both as a negation and because he couldn’t believe how bad he was at this. “It seemed like a decent cover. In case you slammed the door in my face.”
Libby made a show of examining the open space around them. “I guess I could clang the lid of the Dumpster.”
“Do you want to?”
“Not really.”
It was past time to stop talking around what was really going on. They’d had enough of not leveling with each other.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Her words overlapped with Jefferson’s rushed, “I came back for you.”
“You go first,” she said.
“I was away.”
“You were?” A hopeful note had entered her voice.
“Alaska.”
“That’s far.”
“It felt that way.” He took a few seconds to look at her, basking in the luxury of being this close. Even if he’d like to be closer. “I brought you something.”
“From Alaska?” She sounded so excited, he kicked himself for not picking up a stuffed moose.
“Before that.” He took a step in her direction. “I got you a Me-mas present.”
“There’s no such thing as Me-mas.”
“Don’t tell my nieces. They still believe.”
Her gaze fell to his bag, expression softening when she spotted the crackers. “You brought me crackers?”
“Would you have preferred flowers?”
“No.”
He smiled, in relief and fondness. “Good. These are your emotional support snacks.” Jefferson handed them to her. “This is your real present.” Reaching back into the bag, he pulled out a small satin pouch.
After a beat of hesitation, she took it from him, carefully unsnapping the closure to let the contents spill onto her palm. He’d wondered if she would recognize it; the immediate curving of her lips told him she did.
“For me?” She threaded the delicate gold chain through her fingers, letting the pearl they’d found together dangle beneath.
“It always was.”
She blinked hard, brushing at the front of her apron. “I imagined this a little differently. Seeing you again. For some reason I thought I’d be in a ball gown.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure. I wasn’t supposed to smell like fried food, either.”
“Do you want me to come back later?”
She grabbed his forearm, holding him in place. A pulse of heat passed from her skin to his. “Don’t leave.”
He took a second to gather himself. “I missed you, Libby.”
“You did?”
“Every day.”
Hesitantly, she raised her eyes to his face. “I thought you were mad. About the lying.”
“I freaked out a little.” He was man enough to admit it. “I was afraid you were playing me. Or I read the signs all wrong. But then I realized that didn’t feel right.”
“And then what did you think?” She was a little breathless, like this was the most suspenseful story she’d ever heard.
“That I should have trusted my gut and stuck around long enough to hear what you had to say.”
“It was kind of a tense moment.”
“I still shouldn’t have run out on you.”
“You came back,” she pointed out, like that evened the slate.
“I couldn’t stay away.”
Her eyes were huge, the afternoon sun turning them the color of a shady creek. “Yeah?”
“It felt like I left part of myself across an ocean.” He touched the place on his chest that had ached for her.
“That sounds painful.”
“It was. But now I can breathe again.”
“Oh.” It was a tiny puff of air, like that was all she could get out. And then she was crashing into him, arms twining around his neck. Jefferson staggered back a step, bumping into the side of the trailer.
When her tongue slid between his lips, it took him apart. He was distantly aware that they were making out in a parking lot. Losing control in public wasn’t part of his plan for the day. Then again, he hadn’t gotten much further in his plotting than finding her, and this was so much better than that.
She pulled away, studying his face. Jefferson had no doubt his pupils were blown out.
“You smell it, don’t you?” She lowered her nose to her shoulder, sniffing. “Conch fritters?”
He put his face to her hair, breathing in. “I promise you I’m not thinking about fritters.”
She sighed in his arms, like her main worry in life had been resolved. “I don’t understand why you aren’t running the other way. You haven’t exactly seen me at my best. Or even as me, most of the time.”
“You were always Libby to me. I don’t think you ever tried to hide that.” He stroked her back, fingers pressing along the sides of her spine. “I know where you come from. I know you take your coffee with cream, and you snack when you’re nervous. I know you’re kind to strangers and you like to make wishes. I know the difference between your real laugh and when you’re pretending. I know what it feels like to wake up next to you.” He raised his hand to cup her cheek. “That seems like a pretty good start.”
Her eyes were wet when she tipped her face up for another kiss. “I know something,” she whispered against his lips.
“What?”
“My roommate isn’t home.”
That was all Jefferson needed to hear. “My car’s over there.”
“It’s kind of a pit,” she warned him. “And I don’t have a hot tub. Or a laser light show in the bathroom.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Yeah,” said Keoki’s booming voice, as he stepped out the back door of the trailer. “It is a relief. You two are a health code violation waiting to happen.” He turned his attention back to the phone propped between his cheek and shoulder. “They came up for air. Okay. Nice doing business with you. Mahalo. Here.” He held the phone out to Libby. “She’s going to run my story in her paper.”
Libby was still frowning as she held the phone to her ear. “It’s Hildy,” she reported. “I’m supposed to put her on speaker.”
It looked like she regretted the decision when the words, “I hope you have your clothes on, sex fiends,” blared from the phone.
“We’re in a parking lot,” Jefferson told her.
“Like that would stop you. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Thank you,” Libby said, before adding a hesitant, “You’re really going to run the story about Keoki?”
“Front of the Living section. Sunday edition. I’m saving Tutu for my magazine, so don’t get any funny ideas. But I wasn’t talking about that. You can thank me for playing matchmaker.”
“I would have gotten here eventually.” It was a mild protest; Jefferson liked to give credit where it was due.
“Like what, a message in a bottle? You’re too old to play the waiting game, JJ. The modern world moves fast.”
“Actually,” Libby cut in, “about the magazine. I really want to start at the bottom and work my way up.”
“That’s between you and JJ. You’re both consenting adults.” Hildy cackled at her own joke. “Seriously, how bad do you miss me right now? Don’t you wish we could all go get some shave ice and shoot the breeze?”
“It’s not the top item on my agenda.” Jefferson’s eyes met Libby’s.
“Okay, horndog. I get it. Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be in touch soon. I’ve got ideas for days. We’ll figure out the job stuff later. Ciao, lovers.” With a smacking mwah, she ended the call.
Libby blinked a few times before passing the phone back to Keoki, who exchanged it for a large paper sack.
“What’s this?” she asked, looking at the sealed paperboard cartons stacked inside.
“Dinner.” Keoki winked. “And breakfast.”
Jefferson took hold of her free hand as they started toward his car. They kept stealing glances at each other, making sure this was really happening.
“One more thing,” Libby said, when he let go to dig out his keys.
“What’s that?”
“Shotgun.” She pumped her fist, dancing a little in victory. “Frickin’ finally.”
He knew exactly how she felt.