“Jesse, we’re worried about you. You’ve been different since…” She pauses, biting down on her bottom lip. She doesn’t finish the thought, but we all know who she’s referring to.
“We think you’re depressed, is what my wife is trying to say,” Toby chimes in.
I raise an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look, but he barrels on as he starts to enumerate observations on his stubby fingers.
“First of all, you never want to hang out. You’ve practically turned into a hermit. Second, you’ve been eating my spaghetti without issuing a single complaint.”
I shrug. “Guess I’m finally getting used to it.”
The bell jingles and someone steps through the doorway. She’s dressed in a thick raincoat, and she stomps her feet on the doormat, shaking off the water droplets. A sliver of red hair peeks through her hood. The color is like an arrow to the chest. I lean forward in my chair, breath catching as I study her. It couldn’t be, not after all this time… could it?
The stranger pulls back her hood and my heart plummets. It’s not her. Of course it isn’t. Now that I’ve gotten a closer look, I’m not sure how I ever could have made the mistake. Her hair is more auburn and curlier than Marissa’s soft waves. She looks in our direction and smiles when she meets my eye. I realize I’m scowling and quickly look away. It’s not her fault that she isn’t the person I desperately want her to be.
The rest of the table is giving me a knowing look when I turn back around and it’s clear they’ve clocked my double take. They know exactly who I thought it was. At least they have the decency not to call me out on it.
“Look,” I say. “Was I bummed about how things played out with Marissa? Of course. But this was always how things were going to work out. We were never going to end up together. We had fun last summer, but it was never going to be anything more than that. She needed to go back to her world and live her life, and I needed to stay here.”
I stare down at my lap so they won’t see the pretense that’s surely written all over my face. Because my naïve, treacherous heart never believed it was just a summer fling. The way I felt about Marissa was never casual. My stupid, wasted heart will be hers forever.
“Did she say that?” Violet asks softly. “Or is that just what you heard?”
The beginning of a tension headache forms on my forehead. I rub my thumb and forefinger over the skin to soothe it.
Lifting my gaze to Violet, I ask, “Are we going to order soon? I could really use a coffee.”
She crosses her arms and glares at me, but sulks off to the kitchen nonetheless. Thank god. One less person at this ambush.
“What do you all expect me to do?” I ask my remaining two interrogators. “Follow her out to LA like a lost puppy and leave you in the lurch? Let Legacy fall apart and put all of you out of work?”
Toby and Shelby exchange a look.
“You want to tell him, or should I?” Toby asks his wife.
Shelby shrugs. “He’s your brother. You can do the honors.”
A tight ball forms in my chest. I already don’t like where this is going.
“Tell me what, exactly?”
Toby tilts his head sympathetically. “Legacy Builders doesn’t need you.Youneed Legacy Builders.”
I squint at him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Shelby cuts in, “that we love you and we love working with you. But this business would not fall apart without you. Toby is more than capable of handling all aspects of construction. I’ve got us covered on design and have started taking some online business management courses. And whenever we need an extra set of hands, we can hire out.”
Her voice softens. “Don’t think we’ve forgotten that this was never your dream. You took over when your dad died, and while we respect the hell out of you for it, you can’t hide behind the business forever.”
“I’m not hiding,” I object. “I’m…” I trail off, fumbling to find my next point. It never comes. Instead, realization hurls itself at me like a pile of bricks. Fuck,haveI been hiding behind this job? Or was I just doing what needed to be done? Stepping in to fill a void to keep my family afloat?
This isn’t the first time I’ve been accused of prioritizing the family business over other aspects of my life.
“Do you think it’s possible that you tried to protect yourself by ending things with Marissa first? That you tried to push her away because you thought losing her on your own terms would be easier?”
My face flames under the spotlight of their scrutiny, as the pair of them peer down at me like northeastern PA’s version of Mulder and Scully. Because, as much as I hate to admit it, they are dead-on.
“Let’s face it, bro,” Toby says. “We’ve had our fair share of family trauma, and it’s left you with a fear of abandonment.”
I recoil, as if I’ve taken a physical blow. “Wait, you think this is aboutMom?”
