Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
JORDAN
“El, what’s up with you?” Face buried in his phone, Elliot totally ignores me. I glance over across the kitchen island where we’re all sitting and see Noah and Cooper rolling their eyes like they know something I don’t. Sitting here with my brothers around the island where so much of my childhood took place, I can’t deny the contentment that washes through me. It’s really good to be home.
“What?” I ask, my gaze bouncing between them. Elliot still hasn’t looked up, and I’m almost sure he didn’t even hear my question.
Noah smirks at Elliot. “Seems El has himself a bit of a mystery woman.”
I reach over and snatch the phone away from Elliot. “What the fuck, Jord,” he sputters, glancing between the three of us.
“Mystery woman?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes, grabbing the phone back from me. “They’re being dramatic. It’s not a mystery woman.”
“Uh, yeah it is,” Cooper says, leaning back in his barstool. “Seems Elliot over there met a woman on a plane last week and fell, like, instantly in love with her or something. But then when they landed in Boston, she disappeared and left him with nothing but her first name. He’s been glued to his phone trying to find her ever since.”
“I have not,” Elliot mutters, putting his phone face down on the island and then immediately picking it back up.
Cooper snatches it away and glances at the screen. “Is that why you’re looking at property records for every property owner named Amelia in the greater Boston area?”
Elliot sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I have no idea what’s wrong with me. We sat next to each other for a grand total of, like, six hours, and now it’s like I can’t get her out of my head.”
Noah leans forward and props his chin in his hand. “It’s like something out of a romance novel. I dig it, El. It’s romantic as fuck and I hope you find her.”
Cooper narrows his eyes at Noah. “This is the second time you’ve brought up romance novels. Are you sure you’re not reading them on the sly?”
“I’m not,” Noah says quickly. “But even if I was, there’s nothing wrong with men reading romance, okay? People think they’re less than because it’s art created by women for women, but that’s a hot load of bullshit. And anyway, we were talking about Elliot, not me.”
Elliot shrugs, tossing me his phone. “Hide this from me, okay? I think I’m starting to lose my mind. There was just…something about this girl. I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”
I pocket his phone just as Jo walks in with my parents. The room immediately brightens with her in it, and my stomach swoops, my heart pounding as I watch them. Her head is bent close to my mom’s, ponytail swinging and green eyes sparkling as they chatter about something. Jo’s mouth is tipped up in a grin, and my mom grins back, linking her arm through Jo’s as my dad watches them both with a fond smile on his face.
The love that washes through me is sudden and strong and utterly undeniable. The words may still be getting stuck somewhere between my heart and my lips, but it doesn’t make the feeling any less real. I love Jo, I know it with more certainty than I have ever known anything in my life.
Mine .
“You don’t have to explain it,” I murmur to Elliot, my eyes still locked on Jo. “Some things just are.”
“Does she know?” Elliot asks, his words quiet enough only for me to hear. Not that Noah and Cooper would hear anything while they argue about the best way to locate someone with only a first name and no other identifying details.
“Know what?”
“That you love her.”
My instinct is to deny it, but then Jo’s gaze meets mine, and she beams at me before turning back to my mom.
“Not yet. The words are…a little hard for me to say.”
Elliot lays a hand on my shoulder, squeezing. “You’ll get there. She’s amazing.”
“She is,” I say quietly. “I don’t know what happens next, or what happens at the end of the summer, but I don’t want to let her go. I can’t let her go. She’s the best part of my life. The best everything. She’s just…I didn’t think I would get to have this again. Sometimes it’s scary, but then it’s not because it’s her and she makes everything better.”
“I like seeing you happy. I missed my brother.” He winces, giving me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry; that’s a shit thing to say.”
I shake my head. “It’s not. I’ve been a shit brother for the past two years.” I hold my hand up when he starts to protest. “Let me just say this, okay?” He nods. “I didn’t know how to be any other way. I don’t think I could have been any other way. I couldn’t have done this differently even if I had wanted to, but I’ll never stop being grateful for the way you guys showed up for me the past two years, even when I couldn’t show up for you, or even myself some days.”
Elliot’s eyes go soft and fill with emotion. “We’re brothers, Jord. Family. And family sticks, always and no matter what.”
“He’s right, Jord.” Cooper folds his arms across the island. “Now we just have to figure out a way to get you back to Boston permanently. New York sucks.”
“Totally sucks,” Noah says, tuning back into the conversation. “The four musketeers really need to be back together again. We owe it to Boston.”
I can’t deny the thrill that rushes through me at the idea of living back here, in my favorite city, with my brothers. But even if quitting my job in New York and finding one in Boston was a possibility, my brain rebels at the idea of being farther away from Jo. Pittsburgh to New York is far. Pittsburgh to Boston is forever. And I can’t shake the sense that I could be happy anywhere, as long as I’m with her.
Something to consider when I’m not in a room full of my family.
“What are we talking about over here, guys?” Jo’s arms come around my neck from behind, and she props her chin on my shoulder, a smile in her voice. Feeling a hundred pounds lighter from giving El some of my hardest truths and thrilled with the feeling of Jo’s arms around me in my absolute favorite place, I do exactly the thing brothers do and throw Elliot under the bus immediately and without a second thought.
“Elliot fell in love at first sight with a girl he met on an airplane, and now he can’t find her.”
Just as I thought she would, Jo squeals and swings around me, making a move to pull out the barstool on the other side of Elliot. Before she can get very far, I snag her around the waist and settle her into my lap. “No way, Hurricane,” I whisper in her ear. “I want you close to me.”
She turns her head, grinning at me. “Like, share a chair when there are like six empty ones close? I didn’t realize we were there already.”
I tighten my arms around her and press a kiss to her neck, loving how her face flushes and she glances around like she’s just a tiny bit embarrassed to be sitting on my lap in a room full of my family. “Oh, we are definitely there.”
She studies me for a second, gaze searching my face before she smiles and shrugs, kicking her pink Converse-clad feet. “Love that for us.”
I chuckle and then escalate to a full-blown laugh when Jo turns all her attention to Elliot. “A mystery woman on a plane, Elliot? Love at first sight? I’m sat. Tell me literally everything.”
Elliot laughs. “Noah was right.”
“Duh,” comes Noah’s voice from across the island. “I’m always right. What was I right about this time?”
“That we definitely need to keep, Jo.” Elliot grins at her.
“Oh, then yeah, absolutely. We love you already.” Noah flashes her a mile wide grin. “Hey, how’s Hannah by the way?”
Jo gives him a confused look. “Hannah, my sister?”
“Yeah.” Noah shrugs, his face turning uncharacteristically red. “I talked to her a little the last time I was in Pittsburgh. She’s cool is all.”
I hide my smile because that is absolutely Noah’s I’m interested in a girl voice, but Jo doesn’t know him well enough to know that.
“She’s good,” Jo says, smiling at Noah. “She didn’t mention you guys had talked.”
Noah’s face falls so fast it’s practically comical, but before either Jo or I have a chance to say anything, my mom comes over and wraps an arm around me and one around Jo, joining our little circle.
“Look at all of you, talking in here. All together.” Her voice wavers, and her eyes fill with tears.
Jo looks alarmed, but I tug on her ponytail. “She’s fine, Jo Jo. Crying when we’re all together is a Pam Wyles special.”
“She’s a happy crier.” My dad goes to the fridge, grabs a beer and slides it to my mom, then hands out beers to the rest of us. He puts an arm around my mom and fixes his gaze on Jo and me. “We’re really happy you’re here. Both of you. We missed you, Jord. We understand why you had to stay away, and we’re so glad you were ready to come home.”
I twist the cap off my beer and take a long swallow to wash down all the feelings that threaten to bubble over. Somehow, Jo knows, and she takes my free hand in hers, lacing our fingers together. It gives me the support I need to say the thing I want to say. “I’m sorry I had to stay away for so long. I wanted to come back; I just couldn’t. It was too hard. I needed the space to figure it all out. I’m not sure if I have yet, but I’m the closest I’ve ever been.”
Jo squeezes my hand, and my mom’s gaze arrows straight in on it.
Wordlessly, she walks over and stands in front of us, putting a hand on my cheek. “Jordan, honey, you needed to get through the last two years in whatever way felt right to you. I raised all my boys to know their own minds. I hated seeing you go through so much pain, knowing I couldn’t do anything to take it away from you, but I have never been prouder of anyone than I am of you. We all miss Al?—”
She cuts herself off, glancing at Jo. The way my mom stopped in the middle of saying Allie’s name has anxiety churning in my stomach. I want to tell my family to say her name just like I told Ben, but the words get stuck in my throat, and I’m helpless to do anything but sit there, every muscle in my body tense.
Jo just lays her hand over the arm I have wrapped around her, stroking my forearm with her thumb in a comforting rhythm, and fixes her gaze on my mom. “Say Allie’s name, Pam. I want you to. Jordan needs you to. She was a part of your family too. You all lost someone, and it’s okay to remember her out loud.”
Overcome, I lay my forehead against the back of Jo’s head, breathing her in, wondering how I could possibly be lucky enough to have found this twice in one lifetime. Jo squeezes my arm as my mom’s breath hitches.
When I lift my head, my mom is smiling more softly than I thought her capable of. She’s a live your emotions out loud person. A lot like Jo, actually. She lays a hand on Jo’s cheek, looking back and forth between Jo and me. “Welcome to chaos, honey. I think we’ve been waiting for you. All of us.”
I can feel Jo’s smile even though I’m behind her. And when she says, “I love it here already,” I can’t help the way my brain serves me up a fast forward of images of Jo and me together right here in Boston. Living in Back Bay, hanging out with my brothers, strolling along Newberry Street hand in hand, coming here for dinner on weekends. It’s just a fantasy, but I can’t help but feel the tiny roots of it take hold. Like it’s something to strive for. Hope for, maybe.
The way I feel about Jo makes me feel like it’s okay to hope for things again.
My mom gives a satisfied nod. “I’m so happy to hear you say that. This is going to be an excellent weekend, and not just because my birthday is tomorrow.”
Jo grins. “I heard all about the birthday breakfast festivities. I can’t wait.”
“You’re going to love it. Now, are you hungry? I see that none of my children have bothered to feed you.” She glances around the room, giving all four of us an accusatory stare.
Jo snickers. “I’m fine, really. It’s late, and I’m sure you’ll want to go to sleep.”
My mom waves that away. “When my whole family is together, sleep is never a priority. And it’s good, actually, that they didn’t feed you because I have a little something planned. Someone mentioned to me that you have an affinity for breakfast food.”
Jo turns back to me, and I just smile and shrug, knowing there’s no stopping my mom once she gets an idea in her head.
“I love breakfast. Who doesn’t?”
“Indeed.” My mom gives a satisfied nod. “Well, we’re having midnight breakfast.”
I feel my grin spreading. Midnight breakfast is a long-standing Wyles tradition. It started one winter night when we were in elementary school. It was snowing, and my brothers and I were bouncing off the walls since they were calling for a blizzard, and school was already cancelled for the next day. My mom came downstairs and declared that we were celebrating with breakfast for a second dinner. She ordered us each to make something, and that was the night midnight breakfast was born. Ever since then, we always have midnight breakfast for special nights and times when we need a little bit of a celebration. It makes me happy that my mom decided tonight was that kind of night.
I think it is too.
“Fuck yes,” Noah says, hopping off his stool. “I’m making the waffles. I kill at waffles.”
“He really does,” my mom tells Jo, and then she starts ordering everyone around. “El, you’re making pancakes. Rob, my love, do your hash brown mastery. Jordan, you’re on omelets.”
“Wait, I have to cook? Aren’t I a guest here?” I say it mostly to get a rise out of my mom, and I am not disappointed. She arrows a fiery gaze in my direction.
“I’m sure I didn’t just hear you call yourself a guest. None of my children are guests in my kitchen, and when we’re having midnight breakfast, everyone cooks.”
“What about Cooper? He doesn’t have to cook.”
My mom heaves a long-suffering sigh, and Jo snickers. “Cooper could burn water.”
“Hey!” Cooper exclaims, like it’s news to him that he’s the world’s worst cook.
She turns to my youngest brother. “I love you, baby, but you’re banned from doing anything resembling cooking. I’m not interested in a visit from the fire department tonight. Set the table, handle drinks, get out all the pancake and waffle toppings, and stay the hell away from the stove.”
“What should I do?” Jo asks. “I’m not the best cook, but I know my way around a kitchen. Kind of.”
“You really are a guest, which means we are going to let all these men of mine handle everything, and you and I are going to have a mimosa and watch the show.”
Jo leans back into me, and I can feel her grin again. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”
And it is.