“We haven’t had lunch together here in a long time,” Dad said.
“No, we haven’t.” I smiled.
The last time I remembered coming to the school to eat lunch in his classroom was when I’d gotten my job as director at the camp. I’d made us peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, then come down to surprise him with the good news.
Just like then, he was on his side of his tall desk, I was on the other. In the corner was the same periodic chart that had been there for decades. The cabinets at the back of the room were full of beakers and Bunsen burners. Above us was a replica of the solar system I’d helped him make a few summers ago.
“Remember in high school when you’d come here on Thursdays to eat with me?”
I nodded. “Best lunch day of the week.”
I’d ditch my friends in the cafeteria to come and eat with Dad. Once, a kid in my gym class had made a snide comment about it, calling me a daddy’s girl. I’d just shrugged and walked away because it was true. I was a daddy’s girl. Spending forty-five minutes in his classroom had never been an embarrassment.
Most of those lunches, Dad and I would talk about my homework or my friends. If something was bothering me, his classroom was my escape.
Like today.
“Is there something wrong, honey?”
I swallowed a bite of my sandwich and chased it down with a swig of Coke. “No,” I lied.
He frowned. “Willa.”
“It’s nothing.” I was lying to myself too.
The last two weeks had been miserable. Ever since I’d asked Jackson if he loved me, things between us had been off-kilter.
We still saw each other every day, but he was distracted. He didn’t laugh with me anymore and the rare smile he’d give was forced. Whenever I asked him if he was okay, he’d get irritated and tell me he just had a lot on his mind.
Maybe a braver woman would have pestered and pressed him until he admitted what was bothering him. Maybe she would have stood up to him, demanding he lose the grumpy attitude.
But I wasn’t that woman. I let him be a grouch during the day because at night, he’d still sleep with me in his arms.
Jackson might not want to talk to me much, but he didn’t seem to have any trouble taking me to bed.
Was it pathetic that I let him? Maybe a woman who didn’t love him so much would have cut him off.
But I just couldn’t. On the nights when Jackson wasn’t working, I went to his house to make dinner for him and Ryder. We’d eat, then all watch TV on his worn leather couch.
The nights when Jackson worked, Ryder would stay with Hazel. He didn’t invite me down to the bar to spend the evening with him. He was spending more and more time at the bar during the day too. Whenever I’d ask him to go to lunch or hang out, he’d be meeting with Thea or helping Hazel with this or that.
Still, he’d show up at my apartment in the midnight hours.
I never once pushed him away as he crawled into my bed.
“You can always talk to me,” Dad said.
“I know. Thank you for that.” But this was a conversation for Mom or maybe Leighton. I needed some female advice.
“Ryder seems to be adjusting to school just fine.”
“I think he is too.” I nodded. “He’s a great kid. And it sounds like he’s already made some friends.”
Dad grinned. “From what I’ve seen, he’s Mr. Popular.”
“I’m not surprised at all.”
Dad and Ryder had met a few weeks ago, but since Dad wasn’t his teacher, they didn’t see one another often. Though I was glad both he and Leighton were here to keep an eye on Ryder.
I wasn’t just in love with Jackson. His little brother had me wrapped around his finger.
Ryder was sweet and funny. His handsome face was constantly smiling and there was a twinkle in his eye that reminded me of his brother’s. It showed a lot these days, especially since Jackson had petitioned the district court to become his legal guardian. It was amazing how a set of papers waiting to be evaluated by a judge could erase a mountain of worries from a young boy’s mind.
He was the only reason why things between Jackson and I weren’t miserably uncomfortable. Ryder provided a buffer on the evenings we spent together. Jackson didn’t have trouble giving him gentle smiles or laughing at stories about Ryder’s new adventures at school.
It was just me who he was pulling away from.
And it was all my fault.
I’d been so worked up by my friends’ comments that I’d pushed Jackson too soon. He wasn’t ready to confess his feelings. For all I knew, he’d never said those words to anyone before.
I refused to believe that he didn’t love me. He did. This was just a big step for him and he needed time. The idea that he didn’t love me, or never would, hurt so badly I couldn’t breathe.
Was it pathetic to live in denial?
My perpetual boredom didn’t help. With nothing to do all day, I thought about Jackson constantly. I needed a distraction.
“I’m bored,” I told Dad. And lonely.
He laughed. “Well, if bored means you’ll come eat lunch with me, I can’t complain.”
“I wish I could have found a job this winter. There are only about five hours of work a week to do at the camp and I’m going crazy. I was thinking of expanding my search to Kalispell.”
It was only thirty miles away but driving up there every day in the winter had never been appealing. The highway that wound around the lake was often covered in ice this time of year, so a thirty-minute drive could easily take twice as long. When it got really bad, they’d close the road entirely.
But with nothing else to do but sit at home alone and fret, it might be worth risking the roads.
“What kind of job do you want?” Dad asked.
“My options are limited. I don’t want to take a job where they’d be counting on me to work for longer than a few months. So it doesn’t leave much. I was thinking maybe seasonal holiday work. I bet I could find something at the mall for Christmas.”
Though I doubted I’d be all that good in a retail shop. I wasn’t exactly the outgoing salesperson type. But a holiday job would get me through January. Then I’d only have a few months to wait until things picked back up at the camp.
“I don’t know.” I picked at the crust of my sandwich. “I’ll start looking and see what’s open.”
Footsteps echoed down the empty hallway, and out of habit, Dad and I both turned to stare at the door.
When Jackson passed by with an angry scowl on his face, I nearly fell out of my seat. What was he doing at school? Was there a problem with Ryder?
Before I flew out of my chair, Dad was off his, walking to the door to call Jackson into his classroom.
Jackson followed Dad into the room, looking tired and worried. The moment he saw me, a smile tugged at his lips, but then it fell.
That’s what always happened. It was like he forgot for a second to be disappointed with my presence.
My goodness, it hurt.
“Hi.” I waved, not getting up.
“Hey.” He came over and bent to kiss me on the cheek.
He hadn’t kissed me on the lips since the night I’d asked him if he loved me, not even when we were in bed together. He kissed me everywhere else—the forehead, my neck, on top of my hair—but not the lips.
Every kiss on the cheek made my heart sink. It put more distance between us. He was standing right by my side, but he might as well be orbiting around a different sun.
All because I’d asked him one silly question.
Do you love me?
No. No, he did not.
And pathetic, stupid, naïve me didn’t care. I stayed with him anyway.
“So what brings you here?” Dad asked Jackson, though he was staring at me. The worry on his face made my heart ache even more.
Jackson rubbed his jaw and sighed. “Had a meeting with Ryder’s teachers.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“No. He’s behind the other kids. They said we need to start thinking about holding him back a grade.”
“What?” I gasped. “But it’s only November. The school year’s not even halfway over yet. Why would they want to talk about that now?” My last question was aimed at Dad.
“How far behind is he?” Dad asked Jackson.
“Far enough that they don’t think there’s any way to catch up.”
“Sorry,” Dad said. “I didn’t realize.”
How would he? He wasn’t Ryder’s teacher; otherwise he would have given us a heads-up much sooner.
“Is there anything we can do?” I asked.
“No.” Jackson sighed. “There’s nothing I can do.”
I said we. He said I.
“Tutoring,” Dad suggested. “One-on-one help makes a big difference. It might get him caught up enough to at least be able to stay in the right grade. He probably won’t get perfect grades, but at least he won’t fall behind. And if you keep it up, maybe by the time he gets to high school, he’ll be on the right track.”
“I’m no tutor.” Jackson shook his head. “I barely passed school myself.”
“I could tutor him.” My eyes met Dad’s, a grin playing on his face. He was already five steps ahead of me.
Maybe I wouldn’t need that job in Kalispell. I loved spending time with Ryder and it would give me something to do. It was perfect.
Except Jackson shut me down. “Nah. You’re busy. I’ll just see if Hazel or Thea could help.”
My shoulders fell. He knew I wasn’t busy and he knew I would love to help Ryder. But he wasn’t even going to let me do that.
The writing was all over the chalkboard. Jackson was pulling away from me before he made the clean break. He didn’t want me tutoring his brother because he had no plans to keep me around.
“Well, that’s probably for the best anyway, Willa,” Dad said. “You can’t be tutoring Ryder if you’re going to get a job in Kalispell.”
“What?” Jackson’s eyes snapped to mine. “You’re getting a job in Kalispell?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“It’s winter.” He planted his hands on his hips. “As soon as the snow sticks, the roads will be shit. You’re not driving up there every day.”
This man confused me to death. He didn’t want me around, but he didn’t want me to drive to Kalispell for a job to keep me occupied.
“Then I guess you’ll have time to tutor Ryder,” Dad said, trying not to smile.
Jackson dropped his gaze to the piece of paper in his hands. It looked to be some sort of report card. After a heavy sigh, he nodded and handed it over. “Fine. Let me talk to Ryder after school and tell him what’s up.”
“Okay.” I took the paper, seeing a list of Ryder’s classes with his grades next to each. Every single one was an F.
“I gotta go.” He turned around and took two steps but then stopped. He came back, gave me a quick kiss on the forehead, then waved to Dad. “Later, Nate.”
“Bye, Jackson.” Dad waved back.
Neither Dad nor I spoke as Jackson’s boots echoed down the hallway.
“I’m losing him,” I whispered. “He’s just . . . drifting away.”
Dad reached across the table to place his hand over mine. “Then pull him back.”
My chin quivered. “I don’t know how.”
“Talk to him. Don’t just let him drift away. If your relationship is going to end, you deserve to know why. Stand up for yourself, honey.”
“You know I’m not good at that.”
Dad patted my hand. “I think you’re a lot better at confrontation than you think. You just choose your battles.”
I didn’t want to fight this battle, because I wouldn’t win.
Jackson had all the weapons. He held my heart in the palm of his hand.
How was I supposed to fight? I couldn’t demand that he fall in love with me. I couldn’t make him feel those things.
When we ended, I’d be shattered. My life would be forever changed. I couldn’t stay in Lark Cove without him, not with memories of us together around every corner. I’d end up leaving my beloved camp. My parents. My home.
Everything.
“Do you have dinner with the girls tonight?” Dad asked, always knowing when to change the subject.
Though that topic wasn’t much better.
“No, not tonight. June and I are kind of fighting. And you know Hannah, she always takes June’s side.”
Dad nodded. “And Leighton always takes yours.”
“Yeah.”
I hadn’t called June or Hannah since the night at the diner two weeks ago. I would eventually—we’d been friends too long to just throw it all away—but I wasn’t quite ready yet. And I didn’t know how I’d face them if they ended up being right about Jackson.
“What happened with you girls?” Dad asked.
I gave him a sad smile. “I stood up for myself.”
And look where it had gotten me.
“So how did Ryder take it?” I asked Jackson later that night.
We were lying in his bed, him on his side, me on mine. It was another thing that had changed these last two weeks.
There was no more spooning.
“About as well as you’d think,” Jackson muttered. “He doesn’t want to get held back.”
“He’s smart. We’ll get him caught up.”
“We might not,” he said. “The fact is, Mom was too busy dragging him all over the country to worry about keeping him in school. He might have to repeat this year. So don’t promise him something that might not happen.”
“Okay,” I whispered, wounded by his sharp tone.
A chill settled into the bed as silence consumed the room. I’d never wanted to escape Jackson’s bed before, but right now, I just wanted to go home and cry.
“I think I’m going to go.” I sat up, ready to run away, but Jackson grabbed my shoulder, forcing it down and back into the mattress. It was the first time he’d touched me since I’d come over after dinner.
“Stay.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . let’s get some sleep.”
It was only nine o’clock. Jackson was a night owl, so nine o’clock to him was like five o’clock to others. We’d never gone to bed this early, which showed me just how much he wanted to avoid any sort of conversation.
“Fine.” I settled back into my pillow.
I didn’t feel like staying, but I also didn’t want to go home. It felt like once I left here, that would be the beginning of our end.
I burrowed under the covers, bringing them all the way up to my ears. Then I turned my back on Jackson, curling into a little ball so I’d stay warm. Without his arms around me, I’d be cold tonight.
Then with tears prickling my eyes, I drifted off to sleep.
Hours later, in the dead of night, I woke up cold and alone.
“Jackson?” I sat up in bed, swinging the covers off my legs.
He wasn’t in bed or in the bathroom, so I got up and pulled on a sweatshirt to go searching. His hushed voice came from the living room and it sounded like he was on the phone, but I hadn’t heard it ring.
By the time I made it to the bedroom door, the front door opened and closed. I hurried down the hallway toward the living room but was too late. I walked to the front window just in time to see Jackson’s truck pulling out of his driveway. It had started snowing and his headlights illuminated the flakes as he backed onto the road and drove away.
Was something wrong? Was it Thea or Hazel? Rushing back to the bedroom, I swiped my phone from the nightstand. My finger hovered over his name, ready to call, but I stopped.
If he’d wanted to share, he would have told me. He would have woken me up before he disappeared in the middle of the night.
His silence was just another rejection. It was another dagger to my heart.
I clutched my phone to my chest and crawled back in bed, hoping he’d call.
He didn’t.
Three hours and seven minutes later, I heard his truck pull back into the drive. Then a few moments later, the front door opened and closed. He stomped his boots and thudded down the hallway.
I kept my eyes closed and stayed curled into my little ball, pretending to be asleep. My body was perfectly still as I listened to him strip off his clothes. The entire time I wished he’d say something and explain where he’d been.
He didn’t.
He finished undressing, crawled into bed and passed out.
When he began snoring, I rolled over to study his face. As I leaned closer, a heartbreaking smell filled my nose.
My boyfriend had left me alone in his bed only to come back hours later smelling like tequila and women’s perfume.
