Chapter 3

 

 

Jackson sank back into his chair, his cereal forgotten in the bowl. Once Reed had begun speaking, the words had spilled from his lips in a frantic rush, until he’d finally fallen silent. The seconds passed but neither of them spoke until the shower turned off, causing Jackson to grunt.

“Wow.”

“I know.”

“I can’t believe she . . .”

“I know.”

Reed swallowed and looked away, all the pain of that night coming back in a flood of emotions. He realized his hands were clenched and forced his fingers to open. Jackson’s expression was frozen in disbelief until he swept his hand to Reed.

 “And you promised to . . .”

“A date for every second I listened to her die.”

 “That’s . . .”

“Five thousand dates.”

 He balked. “Isn’t that excessive?”

“She lost her life because of me,” Reed said. “I swore I wouldn’t let it happen to another girl.”

Jackson regarded him for several seconds and then blew out his breath. “I need a drink.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“I understand why you didn’t.” Jackson shook his head and reached for his spoon, but the cereal had gone soggy. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Reed said. “Please tell me you have some advice.”

Jackson picked up the box of cereal and began to eat by hand, his expression twisted in thought as he munched. Again, the silence passed between them and then Jackson shook his head and shrugged.

“I’ve got nothing.”

Reed frowned. “You’re the first person I tell a massive secret to, and that’s your answer?”

“I’m not very good with big issues,” Jackson said. “When my grandfather died my mom got mad because I put my basketball in his casket.”

“Really?” Reed asked.

Jackson grinned. “She demanded to know what I was thinking, and I said I thought he’d like to play in heaven.”

Reed began to laugh. “I bet she hated that.”

“She actually liked it,” Jackson said with a smile. “She began to cry and said Grandpa would like the gift.”

“So how exactly is your story supposed to help me?” Reed asked.

Jackson grabbed another handful of cereal. “You loved Aura, but I think she’d want you to be happy.”

“So I should just let her go?”

“Why not?” Jackson asked, shoving the handful in his mouth.

Jackson’s easy dismissal of years of regret brought a smile to Reed. He spoke with such simplicity, but Reed could not simply let go of his promise, even if he wished he could. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

Shelby stepped out of the bathroom in a towel. “Shower’s open,” she called, and then spotted Reed and Jackson sitting at the table. “Is everything okay?”

“Great,” Jackson said. “I was telling him about when my grandpa died.”

“When you gave him your ball?” Shelby asked, shaking her hair out. “I think it was sweet.”

“I should have given him my old one,” Jackson said. “Grandpa was buried with my good ball.”

Reed and Shelby shared a smile and she disappeared into Jackson’s room to change. Jackson stood and shoved a final handful of cereal into his mouth. As he strode to the bathroom Reed called out to him.

“Please keep it to yourself.”

“You think I want to share something like that?” Jackson jerked his head. “I’ll leave the unloading of heavy knowledge to you. But you should tell Kate. I think she’d understand.”

“It was hard enough to tell you,” Reed protested. “And we’ve known each other for years.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jackson said, “I still think you should tell her.”

He slipped into the bathroom, leaving Reed to his thoughts. Deciding to forego the shower, Reed reluctantly returned to his room. He collected his laptop on the way and threw himself into homework, hoping it would provide relief from his doubt. The homework didn’t, but texting Kate did.

The next week passed in a blur of homework and preparation for finals week. In addition to tests, he had a pair of meetings with his thesis committee, the combination filling his time and providing a welcome distraction. He studied late and dreamed of homework, until finally completing the last of his exams the day of his date with Kate.

Excited, he texted her several times as he got ready. Then he waited outside for her. Jackson and Shelby were off celebrating with their basketball team, which had taken second in another competition.

Thoughts of Aura evaporated when Kate pulled into the driveway, and before she could get out Reed opened the door and sank into the seat. She grinned as he closed the door and gestured to him.

“Excited for tonight?”

“Let’s just say I’d like to shoot something.”

“That kind of week?”

He nodded. “Finals were tough. You?”

“I think I did fine,” she replied, pulling onto the street. “And I got the internship for the summer.”

Dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, she looked every bit the country girl. She even wore a cowboy hat over her brown hair, making her rather cute. He said as much, and she smiled.

“This is not my usual style,” she said. “But for today, it’s only fitting.”

“What will we be shooting?”

“Whatever you’d like,” she replied. “Ember briefly worked at a shooting range because she liked a guy that worked there. She managed to talk him into providing us the evening.”

“How romantic.”

She laughed and pointed east. “We’ll stop for dinner first. It’s an odd place, but you can eat bison, alligator, even duck.”

“I’ve never had any of those,” Reed said.

“Me either,” she said, “but I hear bison is good.”

“Like a steak?” he asked, imagining carving into a gigantic steak.

“I think it’s a burger,” she said.

He grinned. “That sounds more my style.”

As they drove into town they talked of food and favorites, and Reed enjoyed the easiness of the companionship. After the stressful week, just being with Kate was wonderful, and he found himself again trying not to hold her hand.

She too seemed unburdened. Although he thought it was due to the completion of her own finals, he began to guess it had more to do with Jason. They ate dinner and reminisced about the date with sushi, with both agreeing that a bison burger was better. When they climbed into the car again he rotated into his seat to look at her, finally deciding to voice his thoughts.

“You look good,” he said, interrupting their conversation about favorite cheeses.

“I think you already said that,” she said with a smile.

“Not your clothes,” he said. “You. You look good.”

Her eyebrows knit together. “Thank you?”

He grinned. “That sounded like a question.”

“It was.”

He shrugged, casting about for an explanation. “Since our first date there was a cloud hanging over you. Now it’s gone.”

“Until I met you, I regretted my choice to break up with Jason,” she said. “I didn’t understand everything that had happened between us. Between my dates with you and his return, I managed to put all my doubts to rest.”

“And now?” he asked.

“I’m free,” she said with a smile.

“And what do you plan to do with your newfound freedom?”

Her smile turned mischievous. “Shoot some guns.”

“You said you used to shoot with your family?”

“I did,” she said. “Military family, remember? I used to go with my dad and my brothers. I’m decent with a pistol, but I prefer rifles or shotguns. You?”

“Very little experience, I’m afraid. Although I used to go shotgun shooting when I was a scout.”

“That’s what your mother said.”

Reed laughed lightly. “How many guys’ parents have you talked to?”

“Only yours and Jason’s,” she said. “I think his mother didn’t like me at first. Now that I think about it, his father didn’t care for me either.”

“Why?”

“I told you they were doctors, and they wanted him to marry one. I don’t think an engineer was a prestigious enough occupation for their son.”

“Sounds a little arrogant.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” she said. “Jason said his parents are getting a divorce.”

“That’s too bad,” he said. “How was he taking it?”

“Not well,” she said. “He’d always considered his parents to have the model relationship. I think their falling apart left him shaken.”

“It’s always hard when your core principles are broken,” he said, nodding. “Any younger siblings?”

“Three sisters,” she said. “He’s the oldest. The others are still in high school.”

Reed winced. “So he now feels the weight of his family on his shoulders.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Older siblings always feel a divorce the worst,” he said.

Her eyes flicked to him and then returned to the road. “Is that you or your degree talking?”

“Both,” he said. “My parents split up when I was a teenager, and all I wanted to do was protect my little sister.”

“Now that you mention it,” she said. “I think my older brothers did go out of their way to protect me. They used to get me candy when my parents were arguing and sneak me a tablet so I could watch TV.”

“Clever.”

“I may have fought with my brothers, but they were always on my side.”

“You still sound sad.”

She shook her head. “Not at my brothers. I’m just wondering—is that how every family is going to end up? With brothers protecting their sisters?”

“I hope not. But I guess it depends on the couple.”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes lingering on him. “I suppose it does.”