After not hearing from him for five days, I tossed on some clothes and headed over to Jackson’s place to check in on him. When he didn’t answer the door, I walked toward the auto shop, but he was nowhere to be found. Then, I walked around the building and saw him with that sledgehammer in his grip, hammering away at a new broken-down car. His white shirt was tucked into the side of his jeans as he swung the hammer into the glass windows.
His arms were muscular and tan as if he’d spent the past few days standing directly in the sun. I cleared my throat loudly, and watched his body react to the sound. He knew I was there, but he didn’t look my way.
After opening and closing my mouth a few times, I finally built up the nerve to ask him a question. “Is everything okay? I haven’t seen you around the bookshop lately, and when I called you, I didn’t get a reply.”
He swung the hammer up and then dented the hood of the car. “Been busy.”
He still hadn’t turned to look at me.
“Oh, well…okay…I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
He didn’t reply.
I wished I could crawl into Jackson’s head and see what he was thinking about. I knew his issues went much deeper than he let on. I should’ve let him be and allowed him to have his alone time, but something in my heart told me not to leave. Something in my heart was asking me to stay.
“Jackson, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Jackson, come on. You can talk to—”
“Can we not fucking do this?!” he barked. The sledgehammer dropped to his side, and he finally looked up at me. “Can you just leave?” he snapped, sending chills down my back. He was acting like the monster I’d first met when I came into town, and I didn’t have a clue why.
A tear fell from my eye. His coldness stung me a lot harder than I’d thought it would. The last time I’d seen him, it had felt like we were finally getting somewhere, like he was finally knocking down the wall he’d built up over the years.
Plus, lately, he seemed like the only thing that brought me comfort, and I was convinced everyone in town was wrong about him. Now, though, he was acting exactly how the townspeople viewed him—like a nasty beast.
I sniffled a bit before wiping the tear away and then nodding. “I’m sorry.”
I turned to walk away and heard him mutter, “Shit,” before he called my name. When I turned around, he was facing me, sweat dripping down every inch of his body as if the sun was only beaming its rays on him. Every inch of him was soaked, every inch of him wet. I felt my cheeks heat as my stomach began to flip back and forth.
“I’m in a shitty mood,” he said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. I pretended the nerves forming in my gut weren’t real as I nodded his way. He crossed his arms, and kept talking. “And my mind is really messed up right now.”
He dug his palms into his eyes before he moved those same hands to his mouth and tapped repeatedly while his spoke. “Like really fucked up, but instead of trying to decipher my thoughts, or go find some shit to make me forget, I’ve decided to be in a really shitty mood and fuck up this car in my backyard. I understand where you’re coming from, and I appreciate the hand you’re reaching out to me, but if I talk to you right now, I’ll probably be an asshole, and I don’t want to be an asshole to you because you’re good. You’re a good thing, but I will break if you keep pushing me, and I can be a real asshole, Grace. Then you’ll hate me, and I’ll feel bad about it, so…I just need my alone time to feel like shit for a while.”
I nodded once more. Beating up on that car was his outlet to his anger, to his hurt. It was the safety belt keeping him from falling down the rabbit hole, and I’d interrupted that.
Walking back home, I felt foolish for crossing the line with Jackson.
How na?ve was I to think he’d let me in?
28
Grace
It had been a few days since Jackson asked me to leave him alone, and I hadn’t heard a word from him until he walked over to my corner of the bookshop on a Wednesday evening.
“Hi,” he whispered, standing tall with his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his black jeans.
“Hi,” I replied just as quietly.
“I owe you an apology—” he started, but I cut him off.
“No, I owe you an apology. You made it clear that you needed time, but I didn’t listen, and I’m sorry for that. You asked for your space, and I didn’t give it to you.”
A person shushed me, but then when they saw Jackson give them an intense look, they said, “Never mind,” as they stood and walked away.
I’d never seen a stare so powerful.
He brushed his hand against the back of his neck and sighed. “I don’t know how to handle people wanting to know if I’m okay. I reacted poorly, and I just wanted to apologize for the way I treated you. You deserved better.”
“It’s truly okay, I promise. Are you okay, though?”
“No,” he replied. “But that’s normal.”
I wished he understood that there was nothing normal about not being okay.
“You can talk to me, you know. I know it’s against the rules and all, but you can, Jackson. I’m a safe place.”
I watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed hard, and his body began to tremble. He parted his lips to speak, but his eyes glazed over before any words could escape his mouth. He fought hard to keep the tears at bay, but by the way his body shook, I knew he was close to losing the battle.
I stood from my seat and moved closer to him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
He cleared his throat, and his bottom lip twitched. “Tucker’s gone.”
“What?” I gasped, placing my hand on his arm. “What do you mean gone? What happened?”
“He, um, he passed away five days ago. I woke up, and he couldn’t even walk. I took him to the vet and was told he was in organ failure. They said he probably wouldn’t have made it through the week, so I had to make the decision to put him down.”
“Oh my gosh…Jackson…” I moved to hug him, and I watched his body tense up. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Jackson, this isn’t the part where you argue with me.”
“Then what part is this?” he asked.
“This is the part where you let me hold you.”
He separated his lips to speak but surrendered as his shoulders slumped forward. He nodded his head a little, and within seconds, I’d wrapped my arms tightly around him. I held on as I felt his tense body slowly relax against mine.
When he asked me to let go, I held on tighter because I knew he needed me close in that moment. After a while, he stepped back and pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, shaking his head.
“Will you do something with me?”
“Anything,” I promised. “Whatever you need, I’m there.”
*
We walked through the wooded area of Jackson’s property. He held a box in his hands, and as we walked farther through the trees, we reached a clearing. There was open land, and the setting sun touched every corner of the space. In the middle of the field sat an easel with a canvas resting on it. There were paint supplies surrounding the stand, and a small cross made with paintbrushes.
“That’s where we buried my mother’s ashes,” he told me. “This is where we were supposed to build her art studio. I just thought it would be nice to have Tucker buried beside her.”
“I think that’s a beautiful idea, Jackson.”
He set the box on the ground then pulled out Tucker’s stuffed elephant toy and his water and food dishes. Then he pulled out the small urn of ashes and set it down. He cleared his throat, and as he stood, he grimaced. I took his hand into mine and squeezed it lightly.
“He saved my life,” he told me with a somber look. “A few years ago when I overdosed, Tucker found me and led Alex from the auto shop to me.” He swallowed hard, and his voice cracked. “He’s the reason I’m alive today.”
My heart kept breaking for Jackson’s pain. I held his hand a little tighter but didn’t offer any words. There were no words for a story like that. Just thankfulness that Jackson was still alive and well.
“I don’t know how to say goodbye,” he softly spoke, staring at the empty bowls.