Page 100 of Truly Forever
I push the button for the garage door.
Harboring hope my final texted plea this morning registered and convinced Hollie to stay, I picked up a second chicken Caesar salad at the sandwich shop, just in case. I also ordered a giant roast beef sandwich for Jacob. Now, I feel foolish.
But Jacob, at least, is here—so what does that mean?
No sooner does my brain ask the question than Hollie pulls up. We exit our respective vehicles and size each other up in the gathering dusk that feels early, thanks to heavy clouds. “I brought dinner.”
In dark slacks and a soft-looking cream sweater, she looks sweet and especially pretty. She folds her arms, not angry as much as self-protective. “I’m only here to get my things.”
I bite off a protest, a stern reminder that it’s too soon for her to return home. “You still need to eat, don’t you.”
“John…”
“Please, Hollie. I brought a sandwich for Jacob too.”
“I told you we were leaving.” She sounds accusing.
“Look, this isn’t bullying. I saw you left your things and I figured you’d at least be back for those.”
“But you’ll try to change my mind while I’m here?”
I hold up my hands. “Not a word. Promise.”Shoot.
Really not fair of her, the way her perfect white teeth dig into her pretty pink lip while debating my offer.
Takes me a moment to realize the worried gaze she’s fixed on the house might not be entirely about me. “What’sshedoing here?” Hollie turns and looks me in the eye. “I’m sorry, John. I didn’t think I needed to tell Jacob that this wasn’t his home to invite guests as he pleased.”
Given my line of work, I’m picky about security and giving out my address, but I can’t imagine a pregnant teenager is much of a threat.
Then again, her brother is an active dealer and is the likely source of Hollie’s current drama. “No worries.”
But she appears quite worried, the invasion of my privacy perhaps not her sole concern. I can guess her other fear. I hate that she’s onto something, hate what she’s soon to learn, and more, I hate that I know and she doesn’t.It feels unfair—and she’s angry enough with me already.
That’s it. One way or another, I’m putting Jacob on notice: He has twenty-four hours to tell his mom about the baby—or else.
She follows me through the garage, into the utility room, and then the kitchen. I flip on lights as we go. The house is dark, except for a glow from the hallway where the guest bedrooms are.
Dropping my keys and phone on the counter, I watch Jacob approach his mother, guilt written all over his face.Busted, buddy.
But Reagan is beyond him, huddled into the sofa, picking at her fingernail, the remnants of tears showing on her cheeks. She looks frail and thinner than a week ago. I guess the morning sickness rolls on.
Hollie’s mouth is set in a sharp slash. “What is she doing here?”
Yikes.Her tone is unusually harsh, harsh enough to sound reminiscent of yours truly. I turn at the sink to at least afford the appearance of privacy, and squirt soap onto my hands.
“Mom.” It’s half-huff, half-plea.
Over the rush of water, I hear Hollie ask to speak to her son alone. Rinsing off, I grab the hand towel and see them huddled near the back door, speaking too low for my ears. Hollie isn’t the only one who’s steamed. Jacob looks about to bust with all the outrage and righteous indignation an almost-man can muster.
Reagan’s gaze bounces into mine. I’d say both of us would prefer to be anywhere but here. Trying for a quick smile, I nod, then return to my car to retrieve the takeout meal I forgot once Hollie drove up.
Hollie
“Why is Reagan here?” And why is my son suddenly flouting my rules?
Jacob spreads his arms. “Because she’s my girlfriend, Mom.”
How dare he act like I’m the one who’s out of line. “You know the rule, Jacob. Reagan is not allowed over when I’m not home.”