I suck in a breath. “What makes you say that?”
“Please. We’ve been best friends forever. How are you guys? Looked like you were going through some heavy moments. I almost interrupted something in the kitchen again, didn’t I?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what to make of the way he’s being. I’m confused. Did you know he requested to transfer his residency to MUSC up in Charleston?”
“He told me yesterday. I accused him of doing it to interfere with Jack and me. He said he had his own reasons, but he was very cagey about it.”
“He told me …” It’s hard to form the words. They seem to get stuck in my throat.
“What?”
I lick my lips and try again. “He said he requested to transfer so he could be closer to me.”
There’s dead silence on the other end of the line.
“Keri Ann?”
“I’m here. Ho-leeeeee shit.” She laughs. “This is fantastic.”
That isn’t quite the word I’d use for it.
“This is good, right? Or, wait. Have your feelings changed? I mean, I wouldn’t blame you. It’s been three years.”
“Not least of all the fact I’m leaving.” I flop back down on my pillow.
“Wow, talk about shitty timing.”
“It really doesn’t matter how I feel about him. I’m not going to be ‘that girl.’ The one who gives up opportunities for the chance with a guy. Especially a guy who’s already demonstrated he’s not sticking around when shit gets real.”
Only my mother, and presumably Lizzie, know how really real it almost got. I know I should have told Keri Ann. But I didn’t want to put her in a tough spot with Joey. He was her brother, after all.
“I know I can’t defend him,” Keri Ann says.
“Don’t.”
She lets out a long breath. “Oh, Jazz.”
“I know. This sucks. Part of me wants him to beg me not to go. To prove how much he wants me. But I’d hate him for doing that. For putting me in the situation of picking between my dreams and him. I’m supposed to go over there later so we can talk.”
“Can I say one thing?” She goes on without waiting for my answer. “The way you just described ‘that girl’? You could have been talking about me with Jack. Yet here I am taking a leap of faith with him and his crazy celebrity lifestyle. It doesn’t mean I’m giving up my plans and dreams. If I can do this, you can too. You can have both.”
“That’s the thing. I’m just not sure I can. I’m not sure I want to anymore.”
There are few more beats of silence.
“Just hear what he has to say, okay?”
“Okay.”
JUST AFTER FIVE that afternoon, the sun low but still burning hot, I pull my car into the crushed oyster shell driveway of the Butler house. I park under the long curving branches of a live oak tree.
I’d spent the afternoon down at the beach reading. After all my studying for college, I hadn’t read a good old love story in a while. It helped take my mind off the evening ahead.
I’m wearing a short cotton sundress in bright buttercup yellow that makes my suntanned skin glow. My skin has finally faded to brown after my sunburn last week.
I take a deep breath and open the car door, startling when I realize Joey is standing in the open front door, leaning against the frame with his shoulder. Wearing faded jeans and a faded blue t-shirt, his feet bare, his arms are crossed across his chest and his legs are crossed at the ankles.
I hate that I always feel the impact of seeing him like a punch to the gut.
“Impatient grasshopper, aren’t you?” I call out.
“It appears so,” he concedes.
I trot up the steps.
He’s looking at my empty hands. “What, no wine?”
“Why would I bring wine?”
“Isn’t that what people normally bring when someone asks them to dinner?”
“You didn’t ask me to dinner. And what is this? The geriatric early bird special? It’s five o’clock in the afternoon.”
“Technically, it’s ten minutes past. You’re late. Hence my impatience. I meant to ask last night. How’s your sunburn doing?”
I quickly show him my back.
“You put stuff on it?”
“As much as I could, Dr. Butler.” I roll my eyes. “But my mom’s out of town and I’m not a contortionist.”
“More’s the pity.”
“Anyway, I’m fine now. Are we going to stand on the porch all evening?”
“It’s such a nice afternoon, and I finally fixed the wiring to the fan out here. Check it out.”
I follow his finger pointing upward. “That’s awesome,” I say. “A man of many talents.”
“Yeah. So let’s sit here on the porch swing. You want a beer or something?”
“That’d be great.” I glance across the side yard to the small cottage. “You realize Mrs. Weaton is probably staring at us through a gap in her blinds.” I waggle my fingers in her direction, my eyebrows raised.