CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Malcolm spent his day doing PT exercises and having a productive meeting with his visiting nurse.
She was pleased with his wounds and even suggested he’d be able to go back to light duty full time within a week or two.
Granted, he wouldn’t be speeding to scenes and putting out fires right away, but he’d be able to drive himself to the station.
That small hint of freedom gave him purpose.
More importantly, his parents could head back to Tennessee. He was grateful they’d done everything they had, but he was a grown man who wanted his house back. Well, that wasn’t true. He wanted his house back, plus Jessie.
“What time am I dropping you at Trevor’s?” his dad asked, sticking his head in the doorway to Malcolm’s bedroom.
“Six, if that’s okay. We’re gonna watch the game and order pizza.”
Craig smiled, leaning on the doorjamb. “I’m glad you’re getting back out with your friends, especially after such a productive nursing visit. You must feel like a million bucks.”
“Not gonna lie, it’s pretty sweet.” Malcolm ran his fingers through his hair, struggling to keep his curls in check. He pawed around his pockets for his phone, muttering when he couldn’t find it.
“Oh.” Craig snapped his fingers and pulled Malcolm’s phone from his shirt pocket. “You left this charging in the kitchen.”
“Thanks,” Malcolm said, already planning on turning off the infernal device so he wasn’t more distracted than he already was.
As he was about to shove his phone in his pocket, he noticed a text from Jessie.
His eyes widened, and he fumbled to unlock the screen.
He saw the picture first, a familiar scene he’d thought about often.
It was the groves near the meadow, right in the middle of Hog Hollow.
Jessie had taken this shot at work, and she’d thought enough to include him in the moment, despite his ghosting her.
“Everything okay?” Craig asked, leaning forward to see what had Malcolm so enraptured.
Her message had his heart racing more than it already was. It’s a beautiful day here, and I couldn’t help but think of you.
What the hell did that mean? Did she wish he was there with her? Did that mean she was really staying?
“Son?” Craig asked, standing directly in front of Malcolm. So lost in his own musings, he hadn’t even heard his father approach. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Yeah, the ghost of ex-girlfriends.
“It’s nothing. We should go.”
Malcolm and Craig walked into the living room, where Estelle lounged on the couch watching a YouTube interview with one of her former Atlanta Hearts costars. She was hinting at a reunion show, and Estelle nervously picked at her cuticles.
“You all right, darling?” Craig asked, walking over to peck her on the cheek.
Estelle sighed, falling further back in the couch cushions.
“I don’t know. Ever since Netflix got the show, everyone is talking reunion.
But my agent hasn’t confirmed my contract, including how many episodes I’ll be in.
My word, they could use that AI mumbo jumbo and have me be a ghost or something!
” she whined, covering her face with her hands.
Through her fingers, she asked, “Do you think they’ve changed their minds? ”
She looked to her husband and son expectantly, and Malcolm suddenly wanted to evaporate.
He loved his mother, dearly, but when she got these episodes of self-doubt, it was crippling.
“How about you join me and Malcolm? We’ll drop the boy off at Trevor’s, then I’ll take you out for dinner.
We can go to Cajun Carl’s. You love it there. ”
Estelle glanced back and forth at the screen and her husband. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she took a moment to decide. “Do you mind if we swing by that little ice cream shop on the way out of town? I could go for a little sweet.”
Craig held his hand out, easing Estelle to her feet. “Anything you want.” They kissed chastely on the lips, causing Malcolm’s already muddled brain to turn into rice pudding.
For his whole life, he’d watched his parents’ relationship ebb and flow, like most couples.
The big difference was, they always complemented each other—they always knew what the other needed.
He had that with Jessie, from knowing how she liked her coffee and evening tea, to why she favored overalls to shorts.
The woman was a part of him, heart and soul, and he needed to figure this out.
Malcolm shuffled out with his dad, Estelle clacking behind in her favorite pair of heels. He slid with relative ease into the backseat, eager to get to Trevor’s for some guy time. “Just text when you need a lift home,” Craig said, catching Malcolm’s eye in the rearview mirror.
Estelle turned back and smiled, although she looked nervous. “Have fun, but not too much fun. I know the nurse released more restrictions, but you don’t want to—”
Malcolm silenced her rant with a pat on the shoulder. He felt like a parent placating a child. “I’ll be careful, Mom. We’re ordering pizza, not flying to Italy.”
“Oh hush,” his mother admonished him. “Have fun. If Jessie’s there, tell her we said hello.”
Craig’s head fell back as he ground out, “Estelle, we talked about this.”
Malcolm’s hand froze over the door handle. “Talked about what?”
Craig said, “Nothing,” as Estelle said, “Jessie.”
“All right.” Malcolm huffed, shoving the door open.
“It’s guys’ night; JJ won’t be there.” He didn’t think .
.. No. His stomach roiled with possibilities.
If she were there, it would certainly make things easier.
That text was burning a virtual hole in his pocket, and he didn’t know how to respond.
Didn’t know how he wanted to respond. “That’s my cue to exit.
Have fun at Carl’s. I’ll text you.” And with that, he slid out of the car and shambled up to Trevor’s place.
Malcolm didn’t get a chance to knock, as Javi threw the front door open with a theatrical “Thank God, you’re here. Trev refused to order food until we knew what pizza toppings you wanted.” He stepped back so Malcolm could enter, before letting the door slam shut.
“Were you raised in a barn, Ortiz?” Trevor joined them in the living room, handing out beers. “You’re okay with one?” he asked, not releasing the bottle neck until Malcolm groaned.
“Please, not you, too, Trev. I’m about to go insane. I’m a grown ass man, and I’m allowed a drink.” He tugged until Trevor released his grip, nearly spilling beer on himself and the couch.
Trevor backed away, arms in the air. “Sorry, didn’t realize that was a touchy subject.”
Javi rolled his eyes, flipping through channels until he found the baseball game. “Smithy’s been as much fun as a wet mop lately. I thought you’d get happier the more you healed.”
Malcolm reared back. “I’m happy,” he lied.
Javi’s head fell back as he cackled. “Oh yeah, you’re a regular laugh riot.” He nudged Malcolm in the ribs. “C’mon, man, you’re allowed to be upset. A freaking building fell on you last month. I guess I miss my happy-go-lucky friend.”
Trevor joined them, tossing his phone on the coffee table. “Pizza will be here in thirty.” He eyed them on the couch and sighed. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing,” Javi said, glugging back his beer.
Malcolm scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed. “Javi’s on my case since I’m not my normal, smiley self.”
Now it was Trevor’s turn to sigh. “I’m guessing this has to do with my sister.”
That got Javi’s attention. He slapped the remote to mute the TV and gawked at Malcolm. “What does that mean?”
Trevor snorted, nearly sending beer through his nose. “Javier Ortiz! You’re one of our best friends, and you didn’t realize that Malcolm and my sister have history?”
Javi was dubious. “I mean, I listen. I know y’all dated, like, what, a million years ago?”
“That timeline seems accurate,” Trevor mumbled, his attention fixed on the muted TV screen. “Oh, look, the Braves are up five runs already.”
Malcolm placed his beer on the coffee table and offered Javi the abbreviated history of Jessie and him. “JJ and I were high school sweethearts,” he started.
Javi interrupted him with a raised hand. “I knew that already!”
“Gold star for Ortiz,” Trevor groaned. “You’ve mastered level one of Pinegrove history.”
Malcolm soldiered on, hoping that talking it out would make him feel better. “To make a long story short, mostly because her brother is sitting right here”—Malcolm gestured with his beer bottle—“JJ and I have been dating on and off again since we officially broke up after high school.”
“Dude!” Javi was aghast, mouth hanging open as he pivoted to face Malcolm. “How in the hell did I not know this?” He looked down at his hands like they held the answers. “Have I been this oblivious?”
Trevor said, “Yes,” while Malcolm tried a more tactful “No.”
Javi was dumbfounded, jumping to his feet so he could pace the length of the living room.
Trevor kept craning his neck to see the TV, but Malcolm was too entertained to stop him.
It took a lot to rattle Javi, and this news apparently was a bridge too far.
“So is that why she wanted to go home with me the other night?”
That question sucked the air from the room, and both men glared at him. Malcolm knew the story, but clearly Trevor was pissed. “What did you just say?” Trevor asked, his expression murderous.
“That’s not what I meant,” Javi backpedaled.
“When we were at book club planning meeting, she was upset and asked to go home. I teased her that Trevor would kick my ass”—he flapped a hand toward a very irate Trevor to highlight his point—“but apparently I should have included Smithy in the list of men who would gladly tear me limb from limb.”
Trevor held up a finger. “Please tell me you didn’t try anything with my sister. I might have to kill you.”
“Eww, no man,” Javi quickly agreed, only to realize his folly and moan. “Poor choice of words. Jessie’s great, but she’s not my type.”