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Jackson looks at me for a long moment, and then he nods his head. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“You’ve got a thing for her,” he confirms.
There’s no point denying it this time, so I say, “Yes. I do. But it doesn’t really matter.”
“Why?” Jackson asks, his brow now furrowed.
“Because I don’t think I’m ready. Well, it’s not that I’m not ready, it’s just…” As I try to explain my reticence to Jackson, I begin to realize that I don’t really know what’s holding me back. There is something, though. Maybe it’s fear; maybe it’s the idea that I’m rushing into something. I don’t know. I just don’t know.
“You’ve had a rough time of it, Finn. A rough time you haven’t deserved,” Jackson says. “And in truth, I don’t think any of us are ever ready. But from what I hear, she’s a good woman. And if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you deserve to be with someone good.”
When I leave Ben’s house with the new lamp safely buckled into the passenger seat beside me, I have more on my mind than just my mother’s delight at her new ornament.
