Page 23 of Jesse's Girl
He leans in close, dropping his voice low. “That’s for all your snarky bullshit back at the store.” He pulls back and slowly wipes his hands on a clean napkin, smirking at me.
“You’re dead to me, Bailey.”
“Oh, I doubt that.”
When he hands me another clean napkin, I snatch it out of his hands.
“For real, though. I’m sorry that prick cheated on you.” His earnest tone takes me by surprise. “You didn’t deserve it.”
“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” I feel like I have whiplash from the quick shift. “He was a prick, in hindsight.”
“Sounds like a shithead, yeah.” A muscle flexes in Jesse’s jaw as if he’s holding himself back from saying something more.
“A horny shithead,” I add.
“Hey,” Jesse says, looking taken aback. “Some of us are horny and respectful.”
I can’t help but laugh. “My apologies to the respectfully horny men out there.”
“Thank you. I’ll let the other guys know at our next meeting.” Jesse pops the last bite of his sub into his mouth and grins.
6
JESSE
“Don’t you have something better to do than hang out with a sick old lady?” Mom asks. She takes a sip of water, then rearranges the blanket over herself on the couch. “Something with your friends?”
“Not really,” I say, squeezing her knee. “I’m here to help you out, remember? You come first.” I arrange Mom’s medication bottles in a row on the coffee table next to the TV remote and her cell phone, mentally checking that she has everything she might need now that she’s home. Her little ad hoc command center reminds me of staying home sick from school as a kid. She’d always set me up in a couch nest with all my toys, coloring books, snacks, and favorite movies.
“Honestly, honey, I’m fine. And if you’re stuck in Lennox helping me, the least you can do is enjoy yourself in the meantime.”
It’s been just under two weeks since the aneurysm, and it’ll be another several more until Mom’s able to drive or exert herself again. I’ve officially abandoned all hope of making it to Bangkok. Instead of vacationing, I’ll be spending the rest of the summer playing chauffeur and errand boy whenever Mom needs me.
“Plus,” she adds, “Claire’s coming by tomorrow with the kids, so that’ll be more than enough excitement for me.”
I raise an eyebrow, unconvinced.
“I mean it.” She gives me a serious glare. “I have nothing to do here but sleep and… probably sleep some more. And I’m cleared to shuffle to the kitchen if I want to grab something to eat.” She lifts her chin at her freshly restocked fridge. “This condo is tiny. Everything’s basically in arm’s reach here. So you can go. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, but that’s what you always say.” I’m still nervous about leaving her alone, knowing there aren’t any nurses or defibrillators just around the corner. After finally getting discharged this morning, she seems suddenly vulnerable to me. I try to let it go, remembering her doctor’s reassurances before we left. She just needs to take it easy, take her meds, and keep up with her follow-up appointments. Things are looking good. With a resigned sigh, I push off the couch and head to grab my wallet and phone.
“I wish I had the space to put you up here,” Mom says.
“Nah, you need your rest.” It’s true enough, though there’s a sense of relief in shrugging off the idea of staying in such close quarters together. I’m not sure I’m ready to face everything we’ve been avoiding for the last eight years. “I can keep crashing with Marcus. It’s fine.”
As if Mom can feel the stiffness already settling in my back, she says, “Honey, twenty-seven is too old to be crashing on a friend’s couch. And you’re too tall for it. You need a proper bed.”
Admittedly, the prospect of spending several more weeks on the trash couch is daunting.
My phone buzzes as I pick it up, and I unlock the screen. Distractedly, I say, “I’ll figure something out, okay? Don’t worry about me.”
Ada
You free this afternoon?
Me
Yeah just leaving my mom’s. What’s up?