“Jade…” I shook my head and breathed out an airy wave of laughter. “It was clear what you meant. And trust me, this is a learning curve for me, too. I may have been married, but I’ve never had a little kid running around the house, especially one I have no rights to. I should’ve thought about it before I took her to the beach today, but I couldn’t see past letting you sleep in order to understand the ramifications. It won’t happen again.”
As if suddenly realizing how close we were, her gaze fell about four inches to my lips. That one move was enough to relinquish my hold on her and allow her to step back, both of us panting wildly as though we’d just been caught making out by our parents.
“So…we’re good?” She awkwardly stuck her thumbs into the front pockets of her shorts.
“Not until you clap for me again.”
Her eyes closed, head tilted back, and a wave of the best song in the world flooded my room when her laughter filled the space around me. “Well, then…I actually came in here to tell you dinner’s ready.” Her lips turned up at the corners into a demure grin. “So I guess that means you don’t get to eat.”
“Oh, come on. Just once. Let me see it one more time.”
“In your dreams.” She winked and left the room.
Yeah…in my dreams.
9
Jade
As strange as it was to adapt to Cash being in the house, it was even harder to get used to him being gone. It made me wonder if that was how his wife had felt. It seemed like as soon as I had become comfortable around him, he was packing a bag to leave. And the worst part was trying to explain it all to Aria. She didn’t understand any of it, and the more I tried to spell it out for her, the more confused she got.
After an entire day of answering her questions about Cash and where he was, I gave in and called my best friend. I’m sure she’d expected me to cry and tell her how horrible it was here, or confess to Cash doing something awful—especially after my frantic call to her on Sunday. But that’s not what she got. Instead, I filled her in on everything that had happened, half of which she’d already heard from previous calls last week, but she was more interested in what went on while Cash was home. Before we hung up, I suggested she come for a visit and spend the day with us. Not expecting her to say yes, I was floored when she made plans to drive over on Wednesday. I immediately called Cash to make sure it was okay with him if I had someone over. It wasn’t until Tuesday afternoon that I finally received his response, letting me know he trusted me, and that any friend of mine was welcome.
Wednesday arrived, and so did Stevie. And it was so good to see her.
“So you guys talk all the time?” Stevie asked from her spot in the surf.
Another wave ambushed us, eliciting the wailing cackles of my two-year-old, who had perfected the art of jumping them—thanks to Cash. “Kind of…I guess. I mean, we used to. Before I moved in, back when I was living with you, we spoke almost every night, and even more on the weekends. Last week, I think it was every night for at least a few minutes, but maybe that’s because he wanted to make sure we’d settled in okay. Then everything happened on Sunday with him taking Aria to the beach and me freaking out, and now…it’s just weird.”
“How so?” She seemed far too interested in my life.
“Well, when he came home Friday night, we stayed up talking. On Saturday night, we talked for a bit, and then he put on a movie. We ended up not going to bed until after two. But Sunday night, he went back to his room shortly after Aria went down. Then he left early the next morning. I didn’t hear from him at all that day, barely heard from him yesterday—which was just a quick text saying he didn’t care if you visited—and nothing from him today. I think I messed everything up.”
She touched my arm, then wiped off the sand with a smirk. “Let it go, Jade. He’s probably busy with work, and all you’re going to do by obsessing over it is make things even more awkward when he comes home again.”
She was right, but I couldn’t drop it. I’d gotten over the whole incident, but his silence was what ate at me. I stopped myself so many times over the past few days from sending him a text and asking if everything was okay, because I refused to be that girl. He’d made it abundantly clear that he had no interest in any romantic relationship, sexual or otherwise, and even though we’d shared a few intense moments over the weekend, I didn’t want him to assume I’d thought more about it than what it was. So instead, I’d stuffed it down and tried to pretend the worry didn’t exist.
Leave it to Stevie to sniff out.
“So this guy’s hot?”
I whipped my head to the side, analyzing my best friend with my finest scrutinizing gaze, even though she couldn’t see it behind my dark sunglasses. “What made you ask that?”
“No need to explain. That was all the answer I needed.”
“Seriously, Stevie. Why’d you ask?”
“You’re all twisted up in knots over him. It’s written all over your face. I’ve never seen you smitten with anyone, and that includes Jordan DeCanter from summer camp.” She dropped her head back and hummed toward the sky. “I don’t think there was a dry pair of panties anywhere in that camp. Damn, he was fine.”
“We were sixteen. That’s gross. I’m pretty sure the image of him you’re conjuring up right now might be on the wrong side of pedophiliac.”
“I hate you. Way to pop my fantasy.” She dug her heels into the wet sand and let the rolling surf wash over her feet. “Have you talked to your mom since you moved?”
I debated between shoving her face into the ocean until she caught a fish in her mouth, and telling her to mind her own business. But she was my best friend, after all, and she only asked because she cared. And because of that, I decided to answer. “No.” However, that was all she’d get about it.
“Liar. She called me looking for you.”
I resigned to my fate of telling her the ugly truth. “Fine. She called last week, all concerned because I didn’t tell her I’d moved, and then she gave me a guilt trip for refusing to give her my new address. She really wasn’t happy when I wouldn’t tell her what city I’d moved to. Let’s just say it wasn’t a good conversation.”
She snickered next to me, calling my attention back to her. “Do you two ever have good talks?”
I scrunched my nose and faced the water in front of me. “We’d have to actually talk in order for that to be possible.”
That was the saddest part. We used to be close, we used to talk all the time, but that was before I’d pulled away. I had only wanted her to notice me—for her to see me and recognize something was wrong. But she’d chalked it up to repressed anger over losing my father and brushed it all under the rug. Eventually, I’d stopped trying to get her to pay attention and closed myself off from everyone. Then when I’d found out I was pregnant, my mom threw her hands into the air and gave up. And that was pretty much the end of any kind of a relationship between us.