He looks at me with pursed lips as though I’ve somehow been offensive. “You got off easy.”
Lifting my eyebrows, I cock my head back. “Okay, then. Nice talking with you.”
I can’t take any more of this conversation without turning into someone I’d rather not be, so I clutch my gift from Nora to my chest and reenter the warmth of the house, slipping off my shoes before retreating to my room fibbing about my need for a nap.
In reality, I lay on the bed facing the ceiling, my book still in my hand as I think about a teenage Geoff trying to navigate high school with his former all-star brother drying out on his parents’ couch. A picnic? No, I suppose not.
But neither is abandonment.
“Sounds like Geoff can pack his sanctimonious attitude and take a flying leap.”
“Eden!” I yelp, burying my face into the pillow to muffle my laughter. “That’s not nice.”
“Sure it is,” she says, pushing my shoulder. “I didn’t say what I thought. And, he wasn’t nice, either. Honestly? It’s Christmastime. And he’s there with his whole family to meet you, and he tells you that you got off easy? Really?”
Eden’s parents were more than happy to drive her to Roland’s parents’ house so we could have some serious girl time before Roland and I head to Georgia. Her parents stayed and chatted up Roland, Nora, and Tim, before returning home, leaving Eden and I to have free-range girl talk.
I sigh, propping my back against the wall. “I don’t know. But, if I picture the worst image in my head of Roland during that time, and then try to see it through the eyes of someone only two years younger than me who once worshipped his older brother? It had to be depressing.”
“Still,” Eden huffs, “has he ever heard of compassion? How was he around Roland? Snobby?”
“No,” I say, surprised at my answer. Thinking back on the past few days, Roland and Geoff seemed to get along like any other adult brothers that belong to a loving family. “Maybe my presence just drudged all the yuckies up. Like it did with Joy, and Dean Baker …”
“Don’t,” Eden snaps. “Stop doing that to yourself. You can’t control how other people feel or behave, especially if they don’t even know you.”
I take a deep breath, and nervously ask her the question that’s been on my mind for months. “What was your first impression of me?”
“That you were gorgeous,” she answers quickly.
I laugh. “Seriously.”
Her eyes widen as she gestures to me. “Seriously! I may or may not have thrown up a prayer that Jonah wouldn’t notice you the way I did. I know we weren’t together then, but sheesh!”
I wave my hand. “Even if I had liked him I still think there wouldn’t be anything to worry about. You’re far more his type than I am.” I’m past the point of thinking Jonah—or anyone else for that matter—is too good for me. It’s not about “good” or “bad.” It’s a simple fact of where I come from, geographically, politically, and spiritually. I’m just as good for them as any other girl is, even if they don’t know it.
Maybe they do. You’re kind of scary in that inciting way.
Eden seems to read my mind. “I think you don’t give yourself enough credit. Maybe if we were all in our thirties and in an environment like this, it would be different. When people are supposed to know what they want. But, up until now, people from my world have been told what they want. Wait, haven’t you, too?”
I huff through my nose. “Yep. You’re right. And what I’m supposed to want doesn’t usually involve anything in, or around, CU.”
“And what I’m supposed to want is the version of Jonah all the parents see and love.” Her eyes fall, taking my stomach with them.
I clear my throat. “Um … what?”
Everyone’s got a closet. Maybe Jonah’s is filled with something Eden can’t bear. Or the other way around? No. Definitely not the other way around.
She puffs out her cheeks, eyes scanning the room through her exhale. “How long till he gets here?
“Tomorrow. I think you’re safe.”
In breaking news, Jonah will be joining Roland and me on our trek to Georgia. Apparently Jonah worked his dad for months to allow it—since his dad is far more conservative than Roland. But, once his dad realized they’d be attending the most conservative thing in America since George W. Bush’s inauguration, he okayed it.
“You’re not worried that he and I—” I try to project her hesitation onto my pending road trip with Jonah. Matt’s family has a guesthouse, where Roland and I will be shacking up, while Jonah will be in the main house with Matt.
Eden violently shakes her head. “God no, nothing like that. I trust you, Kennedy. It’s just …”
“You want the version of Jonah all the parents see and love, even if you try to not want it?”
She nods, slowly.
“I’m relieved,” I admit.
“Why?”
“To know you’re normal. It’s normal to rebel and it’s normal to feel okay in your skin. You want the all-American pastor for a husband.”