4. MJ #2
“I mean, he’s in the Dream Team group chat and I haven’t heard a peep, so I’m assuming he’s continuing to ice me out like always,” I answer honestly.
Again, a look passes between Austin and Blake that resembles confusion, but it’s gone before I can think more about it.
“My parents will be down soon, so maybe they’ll eat before they head off to play cards with the Becketts. ”
“Ugh, the Becketts. Charlie is still trying to hang with us, thinking we’re friends and it’s so annoying. Take the hint, my dude.” Austin’s matter-of-fact words make us all burst out with laughter.
I’m practically drooling as the smell of hot dogs and hamburgers teases my nose.
Blake is pulling the food off the grill just as we hear ATVs up the hill.
My mom is driving the larger one with four seats, and my dad is on the quad coming down from the house.
They park near the area we have set up for food and chat with all of us for a bit.
Mom and Dad graciously decline food, but my dad takes a beer from the case the boys brought, mumbling something about how he can’t believe we’re all old enough to drink the stuff.
They make Blake, Austin, and Shannon promise to come to a formal dinner at the house sometime soon and then take off on the two-seater headed toward the Beckett’s property.
Austin and Blake catch me up on their business venture.
Apparently, Austin is managing the finances for their restaurant, so he’s more on the business side while Blake is more on the creative side.
This makes sense because Austin was always good at math, and he took AP Calculus with me in our senior year.
We were kind of the nerds of our group back then, always taking AP and honors classes when we could.
We shoo Blake away to go rest since he cooked, and Austin, Shannon, and I clean up and pack all the food into the cooler.
Shannon grabs a beer and water, handing the water to Blake, as she sits next to him on one of the fallen tree logs by the campfire.
Austin helps me load the cooler into the back of the quad and then we head over to the campfire, where Blake and Shannon are whispering.
“I get it, but why can’t he just tell some people the truth?” I hear Shannon say.
“Whatcha guys talking about?” I ask as I take a seat in one of the camp chairs across from them, curling my legs underneath me in the oversized chair.
They both look up, surprised to see me, but Blake blurts, “Nothing. Thanks for cleaning up all the food.”
“No problem. Thank you again for cooking.” Austin sits down next to me with two waters and hands me one.
“Okay, what’d I miss?” Austin asks.
“Nothing,” Blake and Shannon answer in unison and almost too quickly. I catch Blake shaking his head slightly with eyes that say to drop it. Austin looks to me and then back to Blake, but then just nods his head, and now I feel like I’m really missing something.
I decide not to press it and figure if it’s important enough, Shannon will fill me in later. Blake looks up at me with a smile. “So, MJ, your Instagram feed is looking very, um, what’s the word? Aesthetically pleasing?” He uses air quotes around the last two words, and I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, thank you. It’s a lot of work sometimes, but I love it and it’s been a fun little creative outlet for me.
” Even though I was technically pre-law at Caracrest, I snuck in a few photography classes as electives.
My advisor even suggested I fill all of my electives with marketing and advanced photography since I loved those intro classes so much.
“It’ s not just a creative outlet though, right, MJ? Like you actually get people to take notice of what you’re posting,” Shannon suggests.
“No, not really.” I shake my head.
“Oh, come on, Em! What about that deli near your school that told you they thought they were getting extra business because of you?”
“That was just a coincidence, Shan!”
“Wait, what happened?” Austin asks.
“So, there was this sandwich shop down the street from my apartment in Piermont, and I was going like twice a week, and I would take pictures of my sandwiches and post them, tagging the shop, of course. The shop told me one time when I went in that they had noticed an increase in college students coming in, and they also saw a bunch of my posts, so they thanked me. Which I told them was ridiculous, but . . .” I shrug and take a sip of my water.
“Oh, Em, so modest. I remember all those sandwich pictures you were posting, and they looked delicious. I was even tempted to make the three-hour drive just to come have lunch with you there.”
I laugh and then change the subject, asking Blake what kind of food he’s thinking about serving at their restaurant. We talk and continue to catch up until I check my phone and see that it’s two-thirty in the morning already.
After getting our stuff back up to my parents’ house and each of us taking showers, Shannon and I fall into bed sometime after three.
I change my alarm to not go off before sunrise tomorrow since it’s already so late, put my phone on the charger and then snuggle in. Shannon’s breathing has already evened out, so I don’t get to question her about the odd conversation I walked into with her and Blake. Later, I’ll ask her later.
June 9
I wake up to the sun blazing through my curtains and the spot next to me is cold. Shannon must have gotten up and headed home already. I rub my eyes and toss the covers off me, then pad over to the bathroom. After freshening up, I go back to my nightstand and unplug my phone from the charger.
Checking my notifications, I see a text from Mom letting me know she and Dad headed to church and they would see me later for Sunday dinner.
Religion is something we haven’t always agreed on, but Mom and Dad respect me enough to make my own decisions.
They haven’t forced me to go to church since I first expressed my feelings when I was twelve.
While they’ve always left that proverbial door open for me, it’s something I haven’t budged on in the last ten years.
A text from Shannon lets me know she made it home about an hour ago. She replies instantly when I text her a thank you and ask what her plans are for the day. Looks like she has a shift at the bar later this evening.
All notifications cleared, I decide to make the most of a slow Sunday. Grabbing my Kindle, I head to the back porch to curl up in the swing and read for a bit until the heat makes me retreat back inside.
It’s close to lunchtime when Mom and Dad make it back home.
The few hours I spent between the back porch and the family library, I was able to post a few pictures to my Instagram and comment on some others.
I also text with my college girl friends and read a few chapters in my book.
A productive day of summer break, if you ask me.
Mom is making sandwiches for us in the kitchen, and I slide onto a barstool at the island. Dad comes downstairs after changing out of his church clothes and pats me on the head. “What are you thinking of doing this summer, Emmalynn?” he asks.
I cringe internally and try to hide the reaction from my parents. If I’m being honest, I need to figure out what I’m going to tell them about next year. That’s been difficult when I don’t even know what I want to do next year.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. Just try to enjoy the summer, I guess,” I say, hoping that’s sufficient for my dad. By the raise of his eyebrows, I can tell he would like some elaboration. “Maybe I can help with a case at the firm,” I offer.
“What about law school applications?” Dad asks with a pointed look.
“Oh, I submitted those a while ago.” The lie tumbles from my lips so easily.
Dad looks to Mom, and they exchange a look similar to the look my friends shared last night. Why does it feel like I’m missing something?
Mom smiles softly at me and then nods slightly. Dad sighs and takes a seat next to me on the island. I turn my seat to face him but glance back at Mom, who’s now biting her bottom lip. “Okay, seriously! Blake and Austin last night. Now you guys. What am I missing?”
“Peanut, the firm has a case right now. It’s actually a criminal case, which is rare for Oakridge, so it would be great experience for you. But I’m not sure if it’d be a good idea for you to help with it.” I’m still completely confused.
“Why not?” I prod.
“Honestly, conflict of interest comes to mind . . .”
I quickly cut him off. “Dad, you know this town. Everyone is in everyone’s business.”
He nods his head, running his fingers through his hair. “I know. So, I don’t know if I could argue a conflict of interest. Maybe, conflict of the heart.” He looks at my mom again and then back at me. “We know you’ve been friends with Alexander since you were little.”
Alexander . . . I take a moment to process who he’s talking about. “You mean Mac?”
“Yes, I believe that’s his nickname.” No one really calls him Alexander, even my parents used to call him Mac when we were younger.
“What does Mac have to do with the case?” My heart beats erratically, and I glance between my parents .
“Mac got into some trouble while you were gone. You know how he was before you left for school,” Mom shares.
I nod, because I knew, kind of. He was definitely not spending time with me anymore.
Instead, he was hanging out with his brother a lot and his brother has always been bad news.
I always thought it was just a phase. He would come around and nothing serious would become of it. Apparently, I was wrong.
“What did he do?” I yell. I look at my dad, whose eyes have softened. “Daddy! What did Mac do?” My lips are trembling now, and I don’t know if I want to cry or scream.
“He robbed Henry’s liquor shop a few weeks ago,” Dad explains.
“What? No way. There’s proof?” The words barely escape as a whisper, as if they can’t be true if not said aloud.
Dad nods but my mom answers, “He was wearing a mask, but it’s his build on the videotape. Plus, he was seen leaving town in his Chevelle.”
I stand there in disbelief for a moment—my brain unable to comprehend what this could mean. Robbery, that’s at least a misdemeanor. Depending on what he stole, even a felony. That could mean jail time. What the fuck, Mac ?
“Tell me more. I need to know more.” I inhale, looking up at my dad.
“He didn’t carry any weapons. It was really a petty theft, just a carton of cigarettes and a case of beer,” Dad tells me.
“He doesn’t even smoke!” Or at least he didn’t.
Dad shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders like he doesn’t understand it either. “His getaway car was noticeable, and he got picked up hopping on the freeway. I think Sheriff Clayborn is trying to make an example out of Alexander, to deter him from going further like his brother has.”
Dad leans forward and pulls me into a hug as my eyes fill with tears.
“It’s going to be okay. I’m doing everything I can to see if Henry will drop the charges or take a plea deal.
Anything to avoid jail time. While I agree he needs to have consequences, the Macdonald family can’t afford Alexander going to prison for any amount of time.
” He lets me go and squeezes my shoulder.
I take a deep breath as I stand and grab my keys, turning for the garage door. “I need some time to process this. I’ll be back for dinner.”