Chapter 15 #2
The announcement earned her a riotous cheer from the crowd. Her dad’s face suddenly lit up. “That’s right. Come to the Wild West Show. Home of Jessie Jane Hancock, your future mayor. Everyone who comes tonight will get ten percent off the next performance.”
Her mom drifted over to her and patted her on the arm. “You did a good job.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She wrapped her arm around Lucinda’s shoulders, but only for a minute. Because her mother tensed up when there was too much unexpected touching.
“I appreciate you coming.”
“Of course I did,” she said, looking past Jessie’s shoulder. “I would never miss something so important.”
She wouldn’t. That was true. Mom had difficulty with certain things, but she was always there to support her kids as best she could.
It didn’t always look like the way other people’s mothers supported their children, but it didn’t mean that her love was any less.
It didn’t mean that she meant it less. Hell, she had been involved in the Wild West Show for all those years even though it was hard for her.
Hard for her to be in front of people, hard for her to perform just because it was time.
But she did it. Every time. And it really was an incredible testament to how much she loved Jessie and West and their dad.
“You’re a good mom,” Jessie said.
“Thank you,” Lucinda said. And Jessie couldn’t tell if that was something her mom had ever worried about. If it was something she had been waiting to hear. She couldn’t tell much of anything from the interaction, so she would just have to accept it for what it was.
She had ridden over with Flynn, and she got into his truck to go over to the Wild West Show.
“Sorry about your mom,” she said.
“Really? That’s the first thing you have to say to me after that amazing debate performance? You did great, Jess. We don’t need to talk about my mom.”
“But this is hard for you. And it’s a lot. And …”
“All of the above. But I knew it would be.”
He forced a smile at her.
“Did you?” she asked.
“I maybe didn’t know all the ways that it would be hard. But I knew it would be. Because that’s just … family.”
“My mom does her best,” Jessie said. “I don’t know if I ever really appreciated that until tonight.
She came out even though it was hard. She was there with everyone, and she’ll probably even come to the bonfire for a while.
I wanted her to be like other moms. She’s not.
She’s her. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t love me, though. ”
“But you were probably still hurt by some of her … the way she is.”
“Well, yes. It’s hard when you’re sort of at the mercy of your parents’ choices. But you know, I would rather have an unorthodox upbringing with people who loved me than …”
“Whatever the hell is going on with my mom?”
“I think she loves you. I wasn’t even actually meaning your mom. It’s just … I can’t imagine being a parent. Can you? Have you ever thought about it?”
He snorted. “No. I can’t say that I have.”
“Well, maybe I would be terrible at it. Maybe trying to do the best thing for me would be the worst thing for my kid. Because in my head, I would want to do everything super normal. I would want them to have a nice house on a nice street. I would want them to go to school in brand-new clothes. But what if they turn out to like vintage? And what if they aren’t made for regular schooling, and they really wish they were homeschooled or something?
I bet my mom was suffering a lot from her own childhood. ”
“She could’ve told you that.”
“I guess. And I could’ve also told her when I was uncomfortable. Or didn’t like something.”
“Jessie, you were caught between a home life that was pretty happy and a world that treated you like there was something wrong with the house you grew up in. I don’t know how you were supposed to feel about any of it.
Or how you were supposed to navigate it.
It’s unfair to be too hard on yourself. You were a kid.
People were mean to you. It’s as simple as that. ”
She nodded slowly. “They were the enemy. Like we talked about. If other people had been willing to make life outside of my house softer on me, home would have been fine. Good, even. It was the people that insisted on making everything about me wrong. Just because I was different. I don’t know that I innately wanted to fit in. I think I just wanted to have friends.”
“Sorry this town sucks,” he said.
“Well, me too. I’m sorry that the LeFevres are so … them.”
“Me too.”
They didn’t speak for the rest of the drive, and when they pulled in, the number of cars in the lot just about made Jessie dizzy. There were so many people who’d come out to celebrate.
They started calling for a speech, and she got ready to stand up, but Flynn did it first. “This is a great turnout tonight. But remember, you have to show up on Election Day. Drop that ballot in the box, folks. And elect Jessie Jane as your new mayor. For all the reasons that you heard tonight, and all the reasons you have yet to discover. And also, because my sister sucks.”
That earned him an appreciative roar from the crowd.
He sat down, and Jessie hung onto his arm, burying her face in his bicep.
There was drunken singing, and some acrobatics from people in the show. Poker games broke out around the bonfire, and about the time it started getting really rowdy, Carson, Perry, and Cassidy excused themselves. Austin and Millie had already taken Emma home.
“This was great,” Perry said, yawning.
“Fantastic,” agreed Cassidy. “I love this place.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” Carson said, jabbing his sister on the shoulder. “You’re not doing any trick riding or anything like that.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Cassidy said.
“I can,” said Flynn.
“Unfair. If it’s good enough for your girlfriend, it ought to be good enough for me,” she said.
His girlfriend. Flynn’s response got lost in that label echoing in Jessie’s head.
His girlfriend. That seemed so …
Well, actually, it seemed far too tame for what they were. And it also seemed way too permanent. Way too intentional. They were just doing this thing until the election wrapped up. That was all.
Except the idea of a relationship didn’t seem quite as ridiculous as it had before. Because she knew him now.
But the idea of … of putting herself out there like that made her want to die. Because she had known so much rejection in her life. So, so much. And the idea of having any more … Especially from him.
Well, she wasn’t going to think about it. That was all. She was simply going to live in the moment. Because she had never felt quite so good living in the moment as she did now.
“Your place?” he asked when they were alone.
“I would love that,” she said.
She missed her little camper. Her little camper with all her frilly little things.
Flynn looked so large and masculine in it.
She couldn’t help but notice when they closed themselves inside.
She moved to him and kissed him. It felt different.
It felt as if things were shifting. It had been easy to define the early shifts.
When she had gone from having never been kissed to having been kissed by Flynn.
From that kiss to another. From never having had sex, to having sex with him.
Now she had lost track of the number of times they had been intimate, but things still kept changing. It was just harder and harder to explain how. To herself, and especially to Flynn.
What were these feelings inside her? She didn’t have a language for it. But she could kiss him. Kiss him and know him, both physically and through conversation.
He was hurting tonight; she could feel it. He was also genuinely proud of her.
It was complicated. Just as everything was always. So she kissed him, and he kissed her back.
His arms were tight around her, and he backed her up against the trailer wall, making the whole thing shake. She pulled off his clothes, and he tore off hers.
She let him lay her on the bed, and she knew what was coming would be fast and furious. She welcomed it.
He protected them both, then thrust deep inside her, the race to completion making her dizzy.
When she finally cried out his name, he was only a few seconds behind her.
And then everything was still. Reality crept back in.
“People are just really disappointing sometimes,” she said.
And she meant his family. Wholeheartedly.
“Are you still thinking about them?”
“Yes. I am. Because how can you be in the same room as your family, and they don’t even talk to you?”
He let out a husky laugh. “That’s sort of an encapsulation of my entire childhood, actually. Never knowing when they were going to include me, or when they weren’t. But … I don’t wonder anymore. Not really.”
“It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
“No. It hurts. But it’s an old wound. And all too familiar.”
“Well, I think it’s stupid. That they treat you that way.”
“Thanks.”
“You were the person in the room I wanted to talk to most of all. I’d never ignore you.”
“Thanks, Jessie.”
“I’m glad we’re … friends.”
“Friends?”
“Hey. I’ve never had a close friend before. Not really. Will you be my friend?”
She felt like she had really put herself out there. It wasn’t a declaration like the kind that had been hovering in the back of her mind earlier. But it was still a lot. Certainly more than she had ever asked of another person before.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice scratchy. “I’ll be your friend.”
“Oh good. I’m really glad. Because I’m a lot happier with you in my life.”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment, but then his hand covered hers. “Me too.”
That was going to fuel her for a long while.