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“It is an antique. It was my mother’s, actually.”
“Was it passed down over the generations?”
He gives his head a small shake. “Would you believe that someone was getting rid of it at a garage sale of all places?”
“No! Did they have any idea what it was worth?” I might not play the piano anymore, but I’m certainly aware that this is a gem and could cover my living expenses for at least three years.
“I don’t think my parents even realized what it was worth until after we got it home. It took up most of our living room. At the time, we lived in an eight-hundred-square-foot house. They had to remove the sliding glass doors to get it inside, but she loved it, and my dad loved her, so it became a centerpiece, if you will.”
Looking at the size of it, I can’t imagine that it would have fit easily into a small home. “It’s beautiful. He must have loved her very much.” I run my fingers along the detailed woodwork. I have the urge to sit down on the bench and play something, although I can probably only remember “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” at this point, which hardly does something like this justice.
“He did. More than anything. He only survived a few days after she passed. Like he’d been waiting for her to go first, so he didn’t have to leave her to suffer on her own.”
“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”
“They fought to stay as long as they could. I think that was the most painful part of it. Watching my parents struggle through treatments, radiation, whatever options were available, eating up their savings, and realizing it wasn’t a battle they were going to win. But they hadn’t wanted to leave each other. Or me.”
He’s quiet for a moment before he continues. “But by that time, I was already an adult. Legal to vote. Able to take care of myself. And in all honesty I had been, for a lot of years already. They staggered their radiation and chemotherapy so they were never going through it at the same time, but neither one was really in any shape to take care of the other.”
“The responsibility fell on you.”
“We had a nurse’s aide who would come and help with the things I couldn’t or shouldn’t, in order to preserve my parents’ dignity.”
I take a step toward him. “I can’t even fathom, Jackson.”
“You shouldn’t try. I apologize. This is a rather heavy topic and not at all the reason I showed you this room.”
“Don’t apologize.” I reach out and touch his arm, just a brief contact. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I understand what it’s like to lose parents far earlier than you’d expect. It leaves scars on the heart. Sometimes we need to share those memories to help them heal.”
He gives me a small smile. “I generally don’t talk about it. It seems to be a character flaw of mine.”
“You’re talking about it with me, so maybe it isn’t the flaw you think it to be.”
He makes a sound, somewhere between a little laugh and a hum. “Come.” His fingertips skim my shoulder, and he inclines his head toward the door. “There’s more to see.”
I fall into step beside him, trying to stay in the moment when all I can think about is the fact that I had the perfect opportunity to offer him comfort that wasn’t just verbal. I could have hugged him. Should have, even. Maybe. There’s something about Jackson, how easy it can be to lower my guard with him and just enjoy his company, and every once in a while, I get a rare glimpse of vulnerability. That’s the side I want to see more of. The side that seems most authentically him. Those little tidbits of information he drops like bread crumbs. Each piece helps solve the puzzle of a man.
“London.” Jackson’s fingers wrap around my wrist and a buzz zings through my veins, making the hair on my scalp prickle.
I startle and spin around. The floors are polished and slippery. I’m not particularly clumsy, but I don’t have the athletic genes Avery does. I stutter-step in order to avoid tripping and end up chest-to-chest with Jackson. I grab onto his shoulder to keep from mashing my face against his tie.
His other hand settles on my waist. “Whoa. You okay?”
“I’m so sorry. I’m not usually a space cadet.”
“I’m very aware you’re not.” He smiles wryly. “But I’m guessing you’re a little preoccupied, what with the meeting coming up soon. Maybe we should save the rest of the tour for later. After the business matters are dealt with.”
I’d completely forgotten about the meeting, which causes my embarrassment to ratchet up a few notches. “Maybe that would be a good idea.” And so would stepping out of his personal space bubble, because right now all I can focus on is the feel of his hand still wrapped around my waist and how I’d like to get closer, wrap my arms around him, and give him the hug I should have back in the music room.
