Chapter 12 - Jensen
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Jensen
Ethan’s cheeks are bright red, both from the warmth of the afternoon sun and the frustration that’s been building for the last half hour.
“Okay, we’re going to try it again. This time lift that back elbow up.” I keep my voice calm, not wanting to heap any kind of pressure or expectation on his shoulders. “Keep your eye on the ball and swing hard, okay?”
I wait till Ethan nods and adjusts his grip on the bat. When he’s ready, I throw the ball. He swings hard, but the ball still sails past him, landing with a thud a few feet behind our makeshift homeplate.
His face falls and his shoulders droop as the bat hangs loosely from his hand. “I suck at this,” he whimpers, his eyes welling up with tears .
“That’s not true.” I hurry over and bend down in front of him so we’re eye level. “You’re doing a great job. Sometimes, these things just take a little practice.”
“But we’ve been practicing, Uncle Jensen. It’s been like ten hours!”
I crack a smile at that. Gotta love a seven-year-old’s concept of time. “More like a half hour, bud.”
His brows scrunch together. “Well, it feels like ten hours, and I’m not getting any better. How am I ever going to score a homerun if I can’t hit the ball?”
He stares into my eyes, looking for an answer, and for a second, it’s like looking in a mirror.
Frustration has been a companion of mine ever since a certain green-eyed, beautiful woman became my neighbor two weeks ago, and every time I see my own face, my eyes ask the same question, “what are we going to do about this?”
I give Ethan the same answer I’ve been giving myself. “I know it seems impossible right now, but you’re going to get through this. You can do this, buddy.”
Ethan scrunches his nose, unbelieving. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
This makes me laugh. Touché, kid.
“Well, you know what your daddy used to say?”
Ethan’s face lights up at the mention of Kase. “What?” He looks so much like Kase, with his face all bright and animated that it takes me a second to recover before I respond.
“He used to say that when things got tough, you might as well stop for a snack break. So how about we take a little break and get something to eat?”
Ethan cheers, tossing the bat to the ground and taking off for the back door that leads into the kitchen.
If only a handful of goldfish crackers and a juice box could fix my frustration as easily as it fixes his.
I take a second to grab the ball and the bat we were practicing with before following Ethan into the house.
I get him a snack and help myself to some sweet tea when the front door opens and Sutton walks through carrying a handful of grocery bags.
“Mama!” Ethan leaps from his spot at the breakfast bar and dive-bombs Sutton’s legs. She squeals, nearly tripping over him, but then laughs. “Hey baby, did you have a fun afternoon with Uncle Jensen?”
Ethan untangles himself from Sutton’s legs, while I reach out to take the grocery bags from her.
“We practiced baseball!” Ethan definitely sounds less glum about it than he did in the backyard. “I’m still working on my swing, but Uncle Jensen says I’ll get better with practice.”
“I’m sure you will, buddy.” Sutton pulls Ethan in for a hug. “Why don’t you go finish your snack in the living room? You can watch TV for a little while if you want.”
I laugh as Ethan practically catapults himself into the living room, whooping as he scoops up the remote.
Sutton shakes her head, but she’s smiling as she moves to the counter and begins unpacking the bags. “ Thanks for watching him for me.”
“You don’t have to thank me. You know I love spending time with him.”
“I know, but I appreciate all that you do for us.” Sutton lets out a sigh, her expression morphing into the one that she only wears when she’s thinking about Kasey. “I’m not sure what would have become of us if it hadn’t been for you.”
A shadow crosses her face, and I know we’re both remembering those early days. I shake my head to clear the images of Sutton practically comatose in her bed, staring at the ceiling for hours on end. Of Ethan’s broken cries when he realized his daddy wasn’t coming home.
“Well, the feeling is mutual,” I mumble as more images flood my thoughts. The endless doctor visits, the way Anna looked at me when we heard the news. The empty closet.
Sutton lets out another breath and for a minute, we sit in the type of silence that only we can understand.
I think grief is a lot like the ocean. Some days it can come crashing down on you, relentless and unyielding, but other days, it’s just a gentle ebb and flow that you feel pushing against you even though you’ve found your footing.
In moments like this, I know we’re both feeling its pull.
Sutton turns away to put groceries in the pantry, and when she faces me again, her expression is bright. The waves have passed. “Did you talk to that guy over in Macomb County today?”
“Yeah, he offered me a decent price, but I’m not sure it’s the best move right now.”
“What? Why? You’ve been looking for a Silver Streak to fix up for months now.”
She’s not wrong, I have been looking for one. But things at the shop have gotten really busy, plus as we move further into the spring and summer months, business is only going to increase. As much as I want to take on another RV project right now, I’m not sure I have the time.
“I’ve just got a lot going on right now. The shop is more than busy, and you know it’s only going to get worse as the summer tourists start coming through.”
“That’s not a reason not to pursue the deal,” Sutton counters, looking at me like she’s just given me the most obvious solution in the world. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
“There’s no point in buying it if I can’t work on it right now. I need to keep my focus in the right place.”
“You mean the shop?”
I don’t answer her, but we both know that’s exactly what I mean.
“Shep,” she starts, “we talked about this. You know how much I appreciate you stepping in and taking over the shop. You’ve not only kept it running, but you’ve made it better and you’ve preserved Kase’s legacy for Ethan.
But it was never supposed to be a permanent thing. You need to just let me hire someone.”
It’s the same argument we have every few months, so I give her the same answer I always do. “You know no one can run that place like me.”
“That may be true, but the shop was Kasey’s dream, not yours. Don’t you think it’s time to let it go?”
I open my mouth ready to spit out the same ole rebuttal, but before I can, relief flickers to life in my chest at the thought of being able to walk away from the auto shop for good. But it’s quickly extinguished by the same gut-wrenching guilt that keeps me walking through those doors every day.
“If I hadn’t . . . ” I can’t finish my sentence. I try again. “Kasey can’t be here to do it. He’s my best friend. I’m doing it for him.” My chest tightens, and I paw at the ache.
Sutton’s eyes track the movement before lifting to mine again. “It’s not your fault,” she says softly. “When are you going to get that through that stubborn skull of yours? You don’t have to keep working at the shop because you feel guilty about what happened.”
She makes it sound so simple. Just walk away from the shop, just let it go. But that’s just it. I can’t. I can’t just walk away.
I wasn’t there for Kasey the day he died, and I should have been. That’s something I have to live with for the rest of my life. So no, I can’t just let Sutton hire someone to take my place. No matter how much she tells me that’s what needs to happen, I know better.
I don’t want to argue about it, so I clear my throat and steer the conversation back to neutral ground. “I told the guy over in Maycomb that I’d let him know this weekend if I was still interested.”
It’s a clear deflection, but thankfully, Sutton doesn’t call me on it.
“Well, for what it’s worth I think you should go for it. You’ve been looking for one for months. You could always put it in storage until things die down at the shop.”
“I’ll think about it,” I tell her, and I mean it, even though I already have a feeling what my answer will be. The RVs will always be there. Sutton and Ethan are the priority. I won’t let Kase down. Not again.
“Speaking of RVs,” Sutton whirls around from the pantry, pointing a box of spaghetti noodles at me. “How are things going with your new tenant?” She presses her lips together in an obvious attempt not to smile.
Immediately, that same frustration that’s been eating me alive for the last two weeks flares to life in my chest.
“Fine,” I throw the word away, hoping we can just move past this particular topic of conversation, but Sutton’s smirk just deepens.
“It’s fine, ” I repeat. “She seems settled in well enough. I don’t really notice her to be honest.”
It’s a bald-faced lie. Every time I step out onto my front porch, my eyes go straight to the RV, hope stirring inside me that I might catch some glimpse of her.
And when I do? I notice everything about her.
Like the way, she always wears her hair in a braid while she drinks her coffee in the golden glow of the mornings or the way she likes to sketch and paint in this one particular spot by the water.
I can’t help but notice that I can’t help noticing her.
Sutton just keeps staring at me with that “yeah, okay, buddy” expression that she always gives me when she knows I’m full of it.
I have two choices really. I can keep pretending I’m not about to go out of my mind over this woman, or I can fess up and actually talk about it. I’m not one for spilling my guts, but the frustration coiling inside me is making me cagey.
I drop my shoulders in defeat. “I’ve been avoiding her mostly. I don’t want to get too close.”
Sutton’s face brightens, knowing she’s won. “And why’s that?”
I roll my eyes. Of course she’s going to make me say it. “Because being around her makes me . . . it makes me want to be around her all the time. And . . . ” I let out a low breath. “I can’t be around her, Sutton. I just can’t.”
I’m not explaining it right, but I can tell from the way Sutton’s expression turns serious that she gets it .
“I know what you’re going to say,” I rush to get the words out before she does. “But we both know that it’s better this way.”
Sutton sets the box of pasta on the counter and lets out a long sigh.
“You may not want me to say it, but I’m going to anyway because that’s what friends do.
So, here it is: You have got to stop punishing yourself for things out of your control.
It’s not better this way, it’s just safer .
But that’s no way to live, and if Kasey were here, he’d tell you that himself. Stop standing in your own way.”
But he’s not here, and that’s part of the problem. I press my lips together, but Sutton reads my mind easily enough. I swear, she knows me better than I know myself sometimes. A fact that can be super annoying. Like right now.
“You like Callie. I know you do. I saw it in your face right after the photoshoot. There’s a connection there, and you know what, you dummy? She feels it too.”
The words send warmth through my entire body, and my stupid, stupid heart starts thumping the way it does every time I look out the window at that RV. “Did she tell you that?”
“No, but Mabel did.”
I scoff. “You two hens have nothing better to do than try to play matchmaker.”
My argument is weak, but I cling to it even though Sutton looks very much like she wants to punch me in the face.
“Listen, there’s something to be said about small-town boredom. And gossip for that matter. This is neither of those things, and we both know it. I’m stepping in for Kasey as your wingman. Mabel’s doing the same for Callie. Again, it’s what friends do.”
I start to argue, to tell her that Kase would never push for something like this, but that’s not even halfway true.
Kase was a risk-taker, and he always pushed me to step out of my comfort zone.
He never let me settle for less, for mediocre.
If he were here, well, he’d be standing next to Sutton looking at me the exact same way she is.
“I hear you, but it’s not that easy. There’s no future with me, Sutton, you know that. Anna’s leaving proved that.”
“Not every woman is like Anna. You can’t go through life making assumptions about people and never giving them a chance to make up their own minds. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to you.”
Her words crack through some of my defenses. “When I’m around her, all I want to do is keep being around her. It’s easy, you know. Just being near her. And when I’m with her . . . I can breathe.”
There. I admitted it. What I feel when I’m around Callie terrifies me, but I also crave it. It’s what drives me to my front windows every morning. Even the smallest glimpse of her fills my lungs. “For the first time in a long time, I can breathe when I’m next to her.”
Sutton’s eyes are all glassy. “Then breathe, Shep.”
Those three simple words unlock something inside me. A lump rises in my throat as I reach for Sutton, wrapping my arms around her. She hugs me back in that fierce way of hers, and I let myself get lost in it for just a second.
I still don’t know where to go from here. Being with Callie isn’t a good idea—my thoughts on that haven’t changed. But maybe, just maybe, I don’t have to avoid her completely. Maybe we could be, I don’t know, friends or something.
It doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to go anywhere.
I can just be around her now and then. Just enough to take a breath once in a while. Would that be so bad?
“I’ll think about it.” I say, pulling back. “I promise.”
“Good. You do that,” She smiles before turning back to the groceries. “You want to stay for supper?”
“Nah, I gotta head home and check on Peaches. Thanks, though.”
I give Sutton another quick hug and pop into the living room to tell Ethan goodbye. “Hey buddy, I’m getting ready to head out. You feeling any better?”
Ethan nods, his cheeks lifting in a bright smile. “You and my daddy were right. The snack helped a lot. Think we can practice baseball again soon?”
“Sure thing, bud.” I return his smile and ruffle his hair.
Walking out to my truck, my steps are lighter than they have been in a while, and I steer for home with Sutton’s words replaying in my head.
Then breathe, Shep.
I resolve to try.