“Really? Last I heard you weren’t ignoring Hennessey.”
“So then you know?” Of course he knows, Mel. He’s been watching me since I got back to the city. He’s seen me hang out with Hennessey. He’s a man and isn’t as blinded by stupidity. He must have seen something I failed to notice. Nobody can keep a secret in that family anyway, so even if he hadn’t been watching me, someone would have told him. Even if it’s not really a secret but just something you don’t really blab about, it ends up being front page in the Hayes household.
He’s silent and still doing the staring thing. His breathing is regulated, and his muscles, though tense, aren’t heaving under his fitted ladder company tee. Only Jameson’s eyes look like they care much about this conversation. All the bullshit and the confusion sends me to a place I don’t like very much but have little control to stop right now.
“You’re okay with your brother asking me out?”
No.
You’re mine, Lulu.
Please.
“Are you asking for permission to date my brother?” Jameson leans in and lifts the wishbone from my flesh with his rough fingers. He quietly studies the small piece of gold and rubs it slowly. He dips his face down to the side of mine. He must have shaved this morning, but his face is already a little prickly as he presses his cheek into mine. His hot breath warms my ear. “You don’t need my permission, Lulu.”
“I’m asking you to give me a reason not to,” I whisper and have to concentrate on not crying. Just, come on. Give me a reason—any fucking reason. Just one.
“You got it all figured out, so why don’t you give me an example.”
Like you’re in love with me.
Please.
But he doesn’t say it. It’s just one more moment in the long list of moments that tell me I should give up on him. But I don’t because there’s something going on here that I’m missing. I’ve been missing a lot lately courtesy of denial, but I feel like if I just hang in there, it’ll get better and Jameson and I can work through this stuff.
Or maybe we can’t. Because maybe, just maybe, the problem is that he’s over me. Maybe it was fleeting for him. Maybe now that he’s free of Lydia, the temptation is gone and I’m not all that appealing after all?
Maybe.
“Why is this so hard?” I ask. “Why does it seem like we just can’t get it right? When do we say that this is just too difficult and it’s not working?”
My words are muted by the house siren that goes off. In an instant, the garage bay is crowded. I step back and give them all a wide berth as they burst into action and hop on the truck. Once Jameson’s suited up, he climbs into the driver’s side and starts her up, turns on the sirens and lights, and pulls her out onto the street.
Maybe this is my sign that this isn’t working out. Maybe I should take Hennessey up on his offer—a nice clean way to force a separation between Jameson and me. Like a get-out-of-jail-free card that I can pull. If he won’t show me that I matter by being with me, then perhaps I need to move on and be with someone else to close this chapter in my life.
Chapter 14
Jameson
When I walk into my parents’ house I’m immediately assaulted with the smell of a baking lasagna. My stomach grumbles in excitement. Once the lease was up on my and Lydia’s old apartment and I had that money freed up, I found a little place above a bodega that I like well enough. For the first few weeks, Mom was cooking me dinners and bringing them to the firehouse a few days a week, but that dried up a while ago, and now I only get home-cooked meals when I visit. I guess I got a little too used to being fed and waited on during my two months back here.
At the end of the long, narrow hall stands my six-year-old niece, Hope. Her striking red hair falls down in a mass of waves around her shoulders. Her bright green eyes light up at the sight of me, and she takes off running. From the kitchen, I can hear Mom and Jack telling her not to run.
I bend at the knees just in time to catch her and toss her over my shoulder. I’m rocked back slightly by the impact and reach for the baluster on the staircase to keep me steady. She’s not a baby anymore, that’s for sure. I land a hand firm on her butt that makes her shriek with excited giggles and bounce purposefully as I carry her back down the hall toward the kitchen.
“Uncle Jay, I got into attention today,” she says and slaps at my back and kicks her feet. “It was fun.”
“You got into attention? What’s that?” No clue what the public schools are teaching kids these days.