Chapter 5
NOW
June
The next morning, I woke up to three loud knocks on my driver’s side window.
When I got to Peter’s house last night, I couldn’t find the courage to go in.
Instead, I went to Wendy’s to get a meal, use their bathroom, and take advantage of their free Wi-Fi all day.
When I pulled into the driveway, I still couldn’t make myself go in, so I slept in my car, which I was no stranger to doing.
I rubbed my hands down my face before sitting the seat up straight. My neck ached, and every joint in my body was stiff. I blinked at the person standing outside my car. Jackson fucking Delvecchio. I turned on the car and rolled down the window.
“Why the hell are you sleeping in your car?”
I ran my fingers through my hair. I didn’t want to risk looking in the mirror to see how awful I looked.
“I wasn’t ready to go inside yet.”
He looked me up and down. “Come on, I’ll go with you.” I went to argue, but he cut me off. “I brought snacks.” He held up a white plastic bag, then scrunched his nose. “And seriously, you need a shower.”
I scoffed. “Always the charmer.” I rolled up my window and tried to ignore him, but he didn’t step away. Instead, he pulled on my door handle, and I cursed myself for leaving it unlocked.
I stayed in the seat and stared up at him, his arm resting on the top of the door frame, waiting for me to get up. I silently cursed Peter before lifting myself out of the car. Why did he have to leave me the house?
I grabbed my suitcases out the trunk, and Jackson carried one up to the house for me. I unlocked the door and inhaled a deep breath. “He didn’t even change the locks,” I mumbled.
“Maybe he thought you’d come back,” Jackson said softly. Had Jackson thought I’d come back, too? No, most likely not.
“Honestly, fuck Peter. I don’t want to deal with this,” I groaned as I stomped a foot on the porch.
Jackson slipped past me to open the door, walking in while I stood on the porch, peering in over his shoulder.
“Your brother was a real piece of work,” Jackson scoffed as he kicked an empty bottle out of the walkway. I took a step inside, finding exactly what I expected.
The place truly was a dump. The leather couch in the family room was peeling, the paint on the walls was chipped and stained, and the kitchen counter was lined with empty bottles.
“I can’t believe I’ve never been in here,” Jackson said from the family room. He set the snacks he’d brought down on the coffee table, crossing his arms and looking around.
In all the years I had known Jackson, I’d never let him or anyone else in his family set foot inside this house.
“Well, you weren’t missing much,” I said with a sigh. I couldn’t even bring myself to walk down the short hallway to my old room. “Peter’s room was in the basement. I’m sure it’s even worse down there.”
He pulled out a box of Cheez-Itz from the bag on the table and threw it to me. “Eat something, and then let’s decide what to tackle first.”
My stomach growled as I opened the box and popped a Cheez-It into my mouth. “And you’re helping me because . . . ?”
He scratched at his jaw before meeting my eyes. “Because I want to.”
I couldn’t stand how sincere he looked. “Don’t you have like, a restaurant to run?”
He laughed at me as he shook his head. “Believe it or not, I’m hardly there. Remember Rami?”
I nodded. I loved Rami; he was one of the waiters who had started working at Delvecchios’ when he was a teenager. He was at least a good ten years older than us, and had been almost thirty by the time I started working there.
“He manages the place alongside Sophie. I do everything from home, mostly.”
I ate another Cheez-It while I accepted this information. “What’s up with Phil and Marie?” I asked. And how the hell did they convince Jackson to buy the restaurant?
Jackson chewed on his lip while he watched me, then gave a pained smile. “Marie is down in Texas with her sister. She moved down there after Phil died.”
I choked. I put a fist over my mouth, trying to clear my throat.
“Phil?” I loved their dad—he was one of the nicest men I had ever met.
Marie and Phil were the best parents, too.
They were so loving and generous, and one of the only couples I had ever seen that were truly in love.
They had treated me like one of their own children.
“Heart attack, two years ago,” Jackson confirmed.
I shook my head in disbelief.
“Damn.” I wondered if that was why Jackson bought the restaurant. To keep it in the family, since Phil was gone and Marie left. “I’m so sorry.”
Jackson gave a one shouldered shrug. “Yeah . . . Me, too.” He ran a hand through his short hair. “So, where should we start?”
He clearly didn’t want to talk about it anymore, but I couldn't fully process this information yet. Phil died, and Jackson still didn't try to contact me. It started to confirm what I'd always feared, I wasn't as important to the Delvecchios as they had been to me.
I wiped the Cheeze-It dust off my palms before clearing my throat, pursing my lips as I looked around the room. “Start from the bottom up? Maybe we can go through his clothes and donate them.”
Jackson followed me down the stairs into the basement. It was an open floor plan with a washer and dryer in a small alcove off to the side, and Peter’s bed, TV, and dresser in one corner. There was still a pile of dirty clothes on the ground.
Jackson started picking up the pile. “Let’s just toss anything dirty.” He ran back upstairs to get trash bags.
My eyes started to glaze over as I looked around the room. I didn’t want to have to do this. When Jackson came back downstairs, I wiped at my eyes quickly.
“Sorry,” I said as I used my hoodie sleeve to wipe under my nose. “It’s just . . . a lot to do, and I don’t want to do it.”
He looked around the room before meeting my eyes again.
“I have an idea: Let’s do the same thing we did in high school.
We’ll pick a time frame for a task, and choose songs to listen to.
When the songs are over, we take a break.
Take a walk, or just sit and relax. It’ll make it more manageable,” Jackson suggested.
It actually wasn’t a terrible idea. And it made the whole thing seem less overwhelming.
“Okay, but I definitely need a drink first.” I grabbed a half-drunk bottle of whiskey off Peter’s dresser and took the cap off before shuddering at the smell.
I couldn’t put my lips to the bottle to drink it, knowing Peter had probably done the same.
I raised it up, fountaining the liquor into my mouth without touching the bottle against my lips.
I drank it in one quick gulp. “Ugh, disgusting.” I wiped my mouth and handed it over to Jackson, but he shook his head. “Too early to drink?” I joked.
He itched his right eyebrow right over the scar before meeting my eyes. “I, um . . . I don’t drink anymore.”
I laughed, assuming he was joking. Then I met his gaze, and my jaw snapped shut the second I realized he was looking at me sincerely. “Oh, you’re serious?”
He nodded awkwardly. “I’ve been sober for five years.”
“Oh, shit,” I said as I turned around and shoved the bottle behind the bed frame. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
Jackson laughed at how flustered I was. “Addie, I can be around it. Sophie still drinks.”
I turned around and pushed my flyaway hairs out of my face.
“Let’s just . . . pick the playlist for the task,” I said to change the subject.
“I hate to say it, but I’ve been listening to Taylor Swift’s new albums with all her rerecorded versions.
I bet Julie had a field day over those when they were released. ”
Jackson laughed as he took my phone out of my hand. “You have no idea. I took her to The Eras Tour for her birthday last year, in California. I let her pick my outfit and put glitter on my face and everything.”
“Oh, please tell me you have pictures of that,” I begged. “So, Julie stayed in California, huh?”
Jackson nodded. “Yeah, she got married three years ago. She’s a big fancy lawyer now, and she and her wife live in LA.”
“Well, the first song on today’s playlist has to be ‘Enchanted’, then. Taylor’s Version, obviously. It was the first song Julie played on my first shift.”
Jackson smiled down at my phone at my request. “You remember that, huh?”
“My first shift at my first job? Of course I do.” The real reason it was such a deep memory was because it was the day I met Jackson and Julie. But I wasn’t brave enough to tell him that.
He handed my phone back to me. “I added my number to your contacts.”
I wanted to say something like, “I’ll delete it as soon as you leave,” but we both would’ve known it was a lie.