If I Tell

CHAPTER eleven



Adjusting the guitar strap on my shoulder, I hurried up the front steps of the church and tiptoed down the hallway, a little nauseated by the stuffy air. It smelled like the trunk in Grandma’s closet filled with Grandpa’s old clothes and personal items. I headed to the kitchen and found Grandma sorting piles of packaged food on the long counter and talking to a girl about the same age as me. Grandma looked up and motioned me closer. I tried to tell by her expression if she’d heard about my fight with Simon or missing classes, but she merely seemed preoccupied.

“Jasmine, hi. This is Tanya. She’s helping me put together food baskets.”

I nodded at the girl, noticing her old clothes. No brand names on the jeans or plain blue sweatshirt. She smiled, friendly but cautious. I smiled back and sneaked another look at Grandma, breathing slower with relief.

From the back entrance, a pimply, tall boy walked into the kitchen, dangling a toddler in his arms.

“She needs her diaper changed, Tanya,” he said with a squeamish grin and held the baby out.

Tanya put down a loaf of bread and hurried to the baby, cooing as she took her from the boy. She grabbed a diaper bag off the floor and disappeared around the corner toward the washrooms.

“If you can’t handle that duty, Charlie, go bring in more groceries from the truck,” Grandma ordered. “We’ve got twenty-five baskets to get out tonight, and the driver will be here in half an hour.”

The boy grinned and nodded. “Deal.” He headed back the way he’d come in.

Grandma shook her head and picked up the loaf of bread.

“That boy will not change diapers.”

I didn’t say anything.

“She’s a good mom for such a young girl, and Charlie tries. They’re good kids.” She motioned me closer. “They volunteer almost every food-basket night.”

I nodded. The girl would be about the same age as my mom when she had me. A couple of older kids marched into the kitchen carrying boxes of canned goods. Grandma rushed over, inspecting the boxes and pointing to the counter.

She looked over her shoulder. “Jasmine, your group is downstairs in the meeting room. Cede will help you out tonight, but after this week you’ll have to handle the equipment yourself, so pay attention. Some of your group will use the karaoke machine, and some will want you to play guitar. You’ll figure it out, right?”

I shifted the guitar on my shoulder. “Um. I guess. How many people?”

“Ten or twelve, I think. It’s the bereavement group’s social night. They voted for singing.”

“Bereavement?” As in sad old people? Great.

“Most of them lost a spouse in the last year or so. Don’t worry. They’re not going to cry or demand therapy. They’re here for fun.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper.

“Here.” She handed a sheet to Charlie. “Take this list and start putting together a box.” She glanced over at me. “Cede’s downstairs. She’ll explain. Go. She’s waiting.”

I turned to leave, almost crashing into another girl who was walking into the kitchen with a stack of food in her arms. I blinked. It was Lacey.

“Hey. What’s up? What’re you doing here?” Lacey asked.

“Me? What about you?”

“Didn’t I tell you Jasmine was helping out with karaoke night?” Grandma called to us. “I swear I lost my memory in the ’90s.” She gestured at Lacey. “Lacey’s been helping me out with food baskets for the past couple months. But of course, you knew that.”

“Uh. No.”

Lacey put down her pile of food. “Don’t look so surprised,” she said.

Grandma groaned when Charlie knocked over a pile of canned goods. She raced away after a rolling can.

“I didn’t know you were helping out my grandma,” I said to Lacey.

“I guess that’s because you’ve been so busy avoiding me,” Lacey sniffed. “Anyway. I’m not doing it to impress you. Your grandma asked for my help. And I like it.”

I nodded. I didn’t want to feel sorry for her or forgive her for her tendency to go after inappropriate men. Like my mom’s boyfriend, I reminded myself and headed for the exit.

“Jaz?” Lacey called as I started to leave.

I turned.

“You ever going to forgive me?” Lacey asked softly.

I glanced at Grandma, but she was busy piling up cans. I lifted my shoulder but didn’t answer.

“How’s your mom doing? I saw her the other day.” Lacey glanced at Grandma, but she wasn’t paying attention to us. “She wasn’t very friendly.”

I scowled. “She doesn’t know,” I whispered harshly. “She’s having a hard time with her pregnancy, that’s all.”

Grandma looked up then and pointed at her watch.

“I gotta go,” I told Lacey. “I’m doing karaoke downstairs.”

Lacey’s face loosened. “With the seniors?”

I nodded, a smile tugging at my lips. “Yup.”

“Have fun with that, Spazzy.”

Without thinking, I laughed out loud. A long time ago, Lacey and I promised each other we’d grow old together. Be roommates at an old folks’ home. We’d called ourselves Spazzy and Looney and wreak havoc on the old men.

“I miss you, Spazzy,” Lacey whispered. “You’re my best friend.”

My laughter disappeared. “I gotta go. See ya.” I headed downstairs, wanting to get away from her and from the heaviness in my heart.

***

Karaoke went smoothly, but the sad voices of lonely seniors crawled under my skin. One old man reminded me so much of Grandpa that my heart ached. He asked me to play a Neil Diamond song on the guitar, and as he sang along, I had to bite my lip to keep from crying. I hurried out of the church when I was done, avoiding Grandma and Lacey.

I swung my guitar strap on my shoulder so it was comfortable and began to walk. I didn’t think about where I was going or why. I just walked. Loneliness throbbed so badly inside that I struggled with my breathing. But I stared ahead and kept putting one foot in front of the other. Before I knew it, I was at Grinds.

I went inside. Behind the counter in the Pit, Jackson was spraying whipped cream onto a specialty coffee. He spotted me, and his smile warmed my insides. Instantly my impulse to come to see him seemed okay and not the stupidest idea I’d ever had. I hurried closer.

“I’m not stalking you,” I said when I was close to him.

“Damn,” he answered and placed the drink he’d finished making on the counter. “And here I was hoping.”

A man in a suit gave me a dirty look and cut in front of me to grab the mug of steaming coffee. I stepped back, but I didn’t take my eyes off Jackson. He was so handsome. So polite to the customers. The man grabbed his coffee and moved out of the way. I took a deep breath. It was now or never.

“Do you remember what you said about a rain check?” I asked.

Jackson nodded without hesitating. “Of course. No expiration date.”

I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding, while clinging to my guitar for dear life.

“Well.” I gnawed my lip. “I was wondering. If, well…when you get off, if I could, you know, take you up on it. I mean, could we talk?”

He glimpsed down at his wrist. “I’m off in fifteen. After that, I’m all yours.”

I nodded, the combination of relief and nerves making speech temporarily impossible. For a minute I wished. Well, I wished that he really was all mine. Not just a friend.

But I needed a friend. I glanced around the coffee shop and then at the bookstore next door. “I’ll come back. You’re sure you’re not too busy?”

“I’m sure.” He grinned. “Hey, you were volunteering tonight, right?”

I bobbed my head up and down like a moron.

“How’d you get here?”

“I walked.”

He stood on his tiptoes and peered over the counter at my feet. “Well, at least you had your shoes on this time.”

I laughed, and more of my tension drained. It would be okay. I could talk to Jackson. Trust him. No matter what else, he was a good person. Inside. Where it counted.

I wandered over to the bookstore until Jackson’s shift was over. When I returned, he was clocking out. He lifted his hand in a wave and motioned me over.

“You want to grab a seat in here?” Jackson asked from behind the counter.

“Um. Would you mind if we went somewhere else?”

Jackson didn’t miss a beat. “You want to head over to Gracie’s?” he asked. “They have awesome apple pie. I’m starving.”

I nodded, my heart thumping. What if I told him the secret and everything went wrong? Could I really trust him?