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“Sure.” Jackson shrugs.
“Well,” I nod toward the house, “I’m surprised you’re doing it again.”
“Marriage?” Jackson says.
“Your ex did mess your head up pretty badly.”
“Hell, she did that all right,” Jackson says with gusto. “And there was a time there, that I didn’t think I’d ever do it again. But strange as it seems, it wasn’t what she did to me, that held me back. It was the stories I told myself. I got stuck in my own head, Finn. I was a prisoner there for a long while. Meeting Bree helped me break out.”
I’m delighted for him, I truly am. Jackson deserves another chance at happiness. But after what Miranda has put me through, I don’t think I could ever trust another woman. And why would I? Why would I put myself through that all over again?
Sometime later, Ben comes up to the house. He looks as pleased to see me as Jackson did, and welcomes me warmly. He’s a man of about fifty, but the energy of a twenty-five-year-old. He’s not had an easy time either, losing two wives to illness, but I can’t recall a time when I’ve seen the man without a smile on his face.
“It’s good to see you again, young Finn.”
I smile at his words. It’s what he’s always called me. I’m nearly thirty-one years old, but I suppose I will always be young Finn to Ben.
“I have a requisition for you,” I begin, when he sits down on the porch beside us. “My Mom’s favorite lamp had an accident.”
“All by itself?” Ben smirks at me.
“Yes.” I smirk back. “It just jumped off the table and landed on the floor. Unfortunately, when it landed, it was in more pieces than when it began its preliminary flight.”
Ben and Jackson chuckle at my sarcasm.
“So, I’d like to place an order for a lamp. I could go and buy one, but it’s not going to mean the same to Mom. It was her favorite lamp, you see.”
“Oh, dear,” Ben says. “So, you’re trying to get back into her good books.”
“Something like that.”
“That’s no problem, young Finn. Tell me what you have in mind and I can see what I can come up with.”
By the time I’m ready to leave, Ben has my specifications, and I bid them all farewell.
“Will you be at the BBQ on Saturday?” Jackson asks as I climb into the truck.
I frown at him, having no clue what he’s talking about.
“Oh, come on, man. Have you really been away so long? It’s the annual August Meat Feast.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say, now remembering the town’s long held festival. “Sure, I can be there.”
“Good. I need a wing man. Dad will be too busy, and I know Bree will end up talking about weddings with all the women.”
“Hey,” Bree says, giving him a playful shove and faking offense.
“You know it’s true, babe.”
She grinned then, and nodded. “I know.”
“I’ll be there to back you up,” I call back.
“You better,” Jackson says, giving me a determined stare, before grinning and throwing a farewell hand up.
When I pull up to the driveway, the front door bursts open, and Sylvie flies out of the house. I’m suddenly worried because she looks anxious. It’s not an expression I often see on my younger sister’s face. In fact, I can’t recall the last time I saw her without a smile or at least passively happy.
Yanking the passenger door open, she swiftly slides in beside me, and turns to face me.
