Page 29 of What If It Was Us
“Busy. Never had the time,” Jackson said without looking at me.
God, he was being cagey. “When’s the wedding?”
“Don’t have a date yet.”
Jackson held up a stack of pictures next.
“Ugh, just fucking toss,” I said without looking at the photos. “How did you have an engagement party without an official date set?”
“Well, aren’t you just full of questions?” Jackson said as he tied the garbage bag. It was already full.
“I’m playing nice!” I said with a hand on my hip. “This was what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
Jackson smiled at me, nodding. “Sophie wanted new stuff for the house, so we had the party.”
I grabbed a new bag and we started another dresser drawer. When the playlist ended, we just let it repeat until we’d finished the basement. We were on a roll, and we both figured we should get it done while we had the energy.
Time slipped past, and when I lifted my arms to crack my back, I realized how sore my muscles were. A glance at my phone showed that it was already well past midnight.
“We should call it a night,” I said as I plopped down on the floor.
Jackson was staring at me from where he was standing by the staircase, leaning his back against the wall. And guess what—he had that dumb smile on his face again!
“What?” I asked as I leaned back to balance on my palms.
“You’re acting like yourself again,” Jackson said.
After the third time the playlist had played I had let my guard down, and Jackson and I had slipped into that feeling of routine we’d had while closing at the restaurant. We’d both been singing along to the songs while we cleaned the basement, and it had almost felt like we’d slipped back in time. It was the closest I’d felt so far to how things were before.
I shrugged at him. “Thank you for helping me.”
He nodded before pushing himself off the wall. “That’s what friends do,” he said sincerely.They protect each other.
I pushed myself off the floor. “I’ll walk you out.”
I followed him up the stairs, and Jackson grabbed the trash bags to put on the curb. I didn’t even try to fight him on it.
“I’ll text you,” Jackson said before stepping out onto the porch.
I wanted to make a smart-ass comment. To pretend like I didn’t want him to come back, or to keep helping me. But I knew it was pointless.
“I’ll answer,” I promised. He smiled one last time before walking down the driveway. This time I waited until he got in his car before I locked the dead bolt.
Chapter 14
BEFORE
October, Thirteen Years Ago
Marie and Phil’s thirtieth wedding anniversary was on October 30th, which fell on a Tuesday this year. The weekend before, Sam flew in from New York and he, Julie, and Jackson threw a costume party at the restaurant to celebrate.
The restaurant was filled with a bunch of their extended family that I had never met before. Phil had two brothers, Marie had three sisters, and there were too many nieces and nephews for me to keep track of. Marie and Phil were both the youngest in their families, so all their siblings’ kids were significantly older than Sam, Julie, and Jackson. Some of Jackson’s cousins were already married with kids of their own. I had never been surrounded by so many Italians before. It wasawesome.
Jackson and I were wearing matching Peeta and Katniss costumes from The Hunger Games—a movie Julie had taken us to see earlier this year. She and Jackson had massive crushes on Jennifer Lawrence, and I’d admitted that I had been obsessed with Josh Hutcherson sinceI saw the movie Bridge to Terabithia. Jackson and I looked nothing like the characters, with his hair so dark it was basically black, and my hair as light as snow, but Julie braided my hair for me so I had a perfect Katniss braid. Jackson brought me an old plastic bow and arrow toy set he had from when he was younger—it was lime green and bright orange, and the child-size quiver barely fit on my shoulder, but it got the costume across. Jackson was carrying around a bread roll from the kitchen, and half his family didn’t get his costume, which just made it a million times funnier than it had to be.
Marie and Phil were dressed as a zombie bride and groom, with fake blood painted on their faces. Julie was wearing a lime-green shirt with a sparkly silver skirt and an alien antenna headband, her long brown hair crimped down her back. Sam was dressed as Clark Kent, in an unbuttoned suit with sunglasses, and a red S on his undershirt.
There were bottles of wine at every booth, and someone had filled a punch bowl with a bright-orange mixed drink, which sat on the hostess stand. Jackson was sneaking us cups throughout the night, but I didn’t have enough to get drunk—unlike Jackson, who had a steady buzz going.
