“Oh!” Recognition finally flashes in my father’s eyes. “Did you come about the noise? Look, it’s barely even eleven right now and I’ve already spoken with the police—”
“No,” I interrupt with a groan. “She used to live next door. We used to hang out together as kids, remember?”
He winces now, as if it’ll help him see into the murk of the past.
“I’m sorry…the only friend I remember of yours was that little brute who looked like a boxer. You know, the troublemaker. Bad influence. Brought the whole neighborhood down.”
I grimace as I see Jessie’s stance stiffen, as if she’s holding back a left hook of her own. Kyle might be protective of her, but she’s just as protective – if not more so – if people start talking trash about her family.
“That was Kyle, Dad,” I say, angling my body between them. “Jessie’s brother.”
“Oh,” he says, almost on the verge of embarrassment, but instead deciding to laugh maniacally as he drops back down onto the sofa between the two blondes. “Well, at least someone got the good genes!” he says to one of the girls beside him, causing them to erupt in sycophantic laughter.
I stand for a moment in front of him, feeling the rumblings of anger and frustration that always accompany meeting him face to face, and then the inevitable emptiness that comes when I realize he wouldn’t care even if I did let him have it. I turn to Jessie, grab her arm, and guide us away.
“Let’s get out of here,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Is that it? Don’t you want to talk with him a bit more? I know he can be a bit of a jerk, but if you—”
“I don’t want anything from him. Not anymore.”
We take the fastest route away from my dad, which leads us across the back yard and out past the pool and guest cabin. We walk in silence as we skirt around the side of the property, circling back to the front yard and my parked car, my mood so heavy even Jessie can feel it.
“Hey,” she says suddenly, stopping.
I look up to see her gazing off toward the edge of the grounds. She looks back at me, smiles, and nods her head backwards at the path.
“Come on.”
“Jessie…”
“Come on!”
Before I can reply again she’s off, jogging down the path that leads away from the mansion – and away from my car. I start following. The pathway cuts through dense, overgrown trees and bushes that cordon off the grounds of the mansion, curling around until it opens up again at the back yard of Jessie’s old house.
Her gentle jog turns into a full-blown run as she swipes and ducks around the overhanging branches. I try my best to keep up, catching small glimpses of her as she starts laughing. Suddenly I’m a kid again, smiling at the thrill of the chase.
When I stumble out from the foliage and into Jessie’s old back yard, she’s not there. My smile drops like an anvil, and I take a few steps in complete confusion.
Then I see her.
“Jessie!” I call out, rushing over to the tree with the hammered-in steps as she clambers up toward the treehouse. “That thing’s gonna break!”
She’s already up by the time I say it though, up on the small platform with a few uneven planks nailed together as walls and an equally lopsided roof.
“It’s fine! Come on up!”
“I…but…”
“Don’t make me dare you!”
Jessie beams me a smile and then disappears into the treehouse. I take a second to realize just how crazy this is, then start climbing. When I get to the top, I duck inside and we both spend a minute laughing goofily.
I sit up against the side, the same spot where I’d always sit when the three of us spent time in the treehouse, only now I have to keep my legs a little bent, and the plank behind me doesn’t seem quite so stable.
“You know, this whole thing is probably going to come crashing down with us inside it,” I say. “What is it, fifteen or twenty years old now?”
“Yeah, something like that. Fuck. That’s a long time. I didn’t think this would still be here.”
I gaze down at the wood, dense and strong as if fortified by memories.
“It’s not the things that change, it’s the things that stay the same which you notice as you get older.”
“Oh, very profound,” Jessie says sarcastically. I shrug, and something in her eyes softens.
We sit in the gentle peace of the treetop for a while, gazing out the windows at the horizons we knew so well, at each other, at the stillness of everything. Allowing the weird sensation of feeling out of time take over.
“I’m sorry, Nate.”
Jessie’s voice emerges from the quiet like wave lapping the beach, almost catching me off-guard.
“What? Why?”
She takes a moment before speaking.
“I used to judge you while we were growing up. For being the way you were.”