Page 23 of AJ’s Fire

“Daddy’s job is boring. He just sits and talks to people. Mommy got to be the vice president!”

“A vice president, of a really big company here in New York City.”

“Daddy said she worked really hard, and he was really proud of her.”

“All true, princess. Your mom was amazing.”

“You were Mommy’s friend too. Right?”

I sat up while Vera continued to draw. I wasn’t sure I was the right person to be handling a conversation about Anna, but I loved my niece, and I’d loved her mom like a sister. I figured if I answered Vera honestly, it’d be okay. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to answer, but right then there was a knock on the door.

“Pizza?” Vera asked as she jumped up and headed back to the front door. I hadn’t even ordered yet.

“Wait for me, Vee!”

The New York game was later in the evening, so I was surprised to find Jackson with his head down as I opened the door, as if he was embarrassed. I’m pretty sure that in turn, I had a look of worry on my face. He met my stare, and I could see turmoil and stress in his eyes underneath his efforts to hide the emotions. But I knew him too well.

“You okay, Jax?” I started, but I’d barely gotten the words out when Vera interrupted.

“Jackson’s here!” She yanked him by the arm and led him into the house. I didn’t have time to get out of the way, and our chests grazed each other as he walked past, our faces close. Since I’d focused on his eyes a few weeks earlier, they seemed to mesmerize me any time he was near, and those few seconds seemed to go on for minutes, slow-motion-movie style, as I watched his countenance change from stressed to startled to something I couldn’t quite interpret. Then Vera dragged him forward, and his look shifted to amused. I could feel my heart pounding in the same slow-motion way as I studied him, and he stared back.

“We’re drawing!” is all Vera said to make those eyes shift, and as he transferred them to my niece, I felt the loss of them, like, in my gut and possibly lower. My concern over my friend had been overwhelming lately, and I had tried to push all strange thoughts about Jackson and showers and blow jobs from my mind. Sometimes they reared their ugly heads.

Ignoring my feelings, I decided that I would use our evening together to try to hopefully find a way to help Jackson, who still seemed stressed despite assuring me that he was over his crush.

In the living room, Vera tried to drag Jackson to the floor. “Hold up a sec, Vera,” he said as he emptied his pockets: wallet, phone, and keys ending up next to my phone on the coffee table. Jackson looked at me again, all smiles this time, as he bent down and picked up my drawing of Vera’s mom and dad. Unlike other members of my family, I had not in any way inherited the artistic gene. Jackson might have been confused about whether the drawing was my creation or Vera’s.

“Your work, Michelangelo?”

I shrugged. “I always preferred Donatello.”

“You know I’m not talking about turtles, right?”

“Ooh! We should draw turtles!” Vera contributed.

“Yes, we should!” Jackson agreed, and without compunction, he sat on the floor amidst a sea of crayons. Vera pulled another sketchbook from her shelf of books and toys and sat down next to my friend.

“My Florida grandma and grandpa took me to see humongous turtles. I want to go back! Uncle AJ, do you think Daddy will take me back to Florida? Ooh, and Daddy took me to the zoo here too. I want to go back to the zoo! What color is your turtle going to be? I think mine will be rainbow.” Vera started collecting crayons. “Red, purple, blue … oh, orange!”

Jackson had followed along intently, opening his mouth once or twice to comment, giving up eventually. As Vera settled in and started a new drawing, Jackson shrugged, picked up a crayon, and got to work.

I put a hand on Jackson’s shoulder, and he bolted up, like my hand was a stun gun shooting a jolt of electricity through him. He looked up at me, and I could see him tempering the look on his face. Funny thing, it had kinda felt like my hand zapped when I touched him. Ignoring the strangeness, I smiled down, and the awkward moment was swept away when Jackson smiled back.

“You good?”

“I’m great,” he assured me.

“Anything special on your pizza?”

“Usual is fine.”

“I’m on it.”

I sat on my brother’s couch and picked up my phone to call in an order, propping my feet up on the coffee table and watching my niece wrap another grown man around her finger. With my feet propped up, I could feel Jackson’s silent phone vibrating against the table.

“You need to get that, bro?”

I dropped my feet and reached for the phone, but Jackson interrupted.