14. Jaxon #2
“I am not the neatest of the bunch. I mean, I’m not dirty, but I don’t always see the clutter.
I listen to songs I love on repeat. That or I can’t stick with a station to hear an entire song, even if I’m actively singing it.
I hate calling places to order food. I mutter to myself all the time.
I mean, like all the time, but I’ve heard it’s a sign of intelligence, so I’m going to go with that. ”
So far, she’s named cheeky and fun quirks, but she turns in the next sentence.
“I’m too sensitive and cry too much. I perseverate on things and struggle to let them go.
I am a people-pleaser to a fault. It’s why I said yes to Tripp in the first place…
because my father insisted I do. I still live under a bit of a dark cloud since my mother died, and sometimes I play some voicemails I have saved from her when I’m feeling extra lonely.
” The half-hearted smile that accompanies those words pulls at something inside of me, and the world falls away as I look at her.
I realize I don’t even have words for what I am feeling.
When she sees everyone staring at her, she nervously laughs and keeps going. “Apparently, I need to add word-vomiter to that list because I’ve said too much again,” she says, looking at me. “Sorry for the overshare.”
“Della, if I asked you to say things you love about yourself, could you so readily come up with that list?” I ask because she just rattled off almost a dozen things in a snap.
“I mean,” she starts, but stops. “There are lots of good things too.”
“Go on then,” I nod, not breaking her stare. “I’d love to hear them.”
Della takes a breath to answer, but before her first word comes out, Molly interjects again. “Okay, well, what’s your plan then?”
A few thoughtful seconds pass by.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. The plan was to get to Driggs, take a breath, and then go from there. I know I’m not going back to Chicago. Since I’m a physical therapist assistant, I have flexibility, but I might go back and pursue the full degree.”
“Fuck it, just stay here,” my sister says. All the heads around the table snap to her.
“That’s very kind of you to offer, but I don’t really know what I would do.”
“Maybe we just have a physical therapist on staff? Like if people want to continue PT on vacation, they come to you!” Hazel says it with the kind of conviction that makes me believe maybe that’s not the worst idea.
“That sounds amazing and all, but that’s just not possible.
You’re dealing with insurance and continuity of care, and you develop a relationship with your therapist so they know what you need after tracking your progress.
Coming here for a week and having me work on someone is a no-go.
I appreciate the thought so much; it just doesn’t have legs. ”
“Get hired as a barn hand,” Molly says, as if it’s the smartest thing ever.
“Contract the job,” she looks at me for approval, then back at Della.
“Then stay here. You can’t stay in the cabin you’re in now, but maybe there’s a long-term one you can rent, or somewhere in town.
I’d avoid the bunkhouse. But then you don’t have to go anywhere.
I mean, where else are you going to find people as cool as us? ” She raises her glass and laughs.
Trying to assess how everyone is reacting to this, I look around the table, and everyone is nodding along.
Maybe that could be something we explore.
To be fair, Hazel and Molly haven’t taken to anyone as they’ve taken to her, and I trust their judgment.
Honestly, it’s validating that I’m not the only one drawn to this woman with unreasonable immediacy.
“What do you think, Della?” my brother asks. “Think the city girl can muck stalls?”
“I can do anything,” she says with a confident smile. “And once I figure out what that means, I’ll be the best damn mucker in the world.”
The table laughs at the statement. “It means shoveling shit, Della,” Molly says.
Her face blushes with the cutest red. “Well, I stand by what I said. I’ll be the best shit-shoveler there ever was,” and she salutes us.
When I look at her, there are so many competing thoughts.
“Are you serious, Del?” I ask.
The corner of her mouth twitches up. “Seeing as I’m in the business of reinventing myself right now. Might as well go all in,” she shrugs.
“You really want to be hired as a barn hand? It’s smelly, early mornings, and cold,” I try to lay the cards on the table.
“If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you’re trying to talk me out of it, Jax,” she raises her eyebrow in challenge.
“Not trying to talk you out of anything. Just want to make sure you know what you’re signing up for.”
Who am I kidding? If she hates it, I’d figure out something else for her to do.
“Well, I won’t know until I try, will I?” She smiles at me and sparkles. I swear to God, the woman just fucking sparkles.
“You’re hired then,” I say, tipping my drink towards her. We could always use extra hands, especially in this hectic pre-high season. A six-week contract isn’t making or breaking us, but it could her. My mind travels back to what I told Cayson: why wouldn’t we help her if we could?
“Just like that? No application?”