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“It doesn’t.”
The story continues to tumble out, and I’m telling Jasmine more than I’ve told anyone about the whole mess.“Mom built her whole world around my dad.It’s like she can’t even figure out how to be happy without him.But she wasn’t even happy with him.She can’t see that though.”I haven’t admitted my anger before, and I’m thankful for the darkness, which feels protective.“I’m angry with my mom for being bitter.When my parents were together, she acted like she hated my dad.Said horrible things to him.”I clear my throat.“And I’m mad that my dad didn’t fight sooner to work things out.He just took it until one day he quietly packed a bag and left Mom a note.He acted like leaving would create peace.But it didn’t.Everything is still broken, even more so.”
Jasmine continues softly stroking my hand, letting me unload the yuck that I’ve bottled up.
“I remember times when we were happy.Laughter was common at our house.But I’m not sure when it changed.”I press a kiss to the side of her head.“One thing I find so attractive about you is that your smiles seem to come from inside.I like that.”
Tears slide down her cheek, and she brushes them away.“Thanks.”
“It’s getting late, and as much as I’d love to stay right here with you for the next several hours, I’m sure Mr.Grindle will come chase me off at some point.I don’t want to rankle relations.”I let go of her hand and wrap my arms around her, holding her close to my chest.“Thank you for listening.I don’t talk about this, so ...”
“I won’t say anything.But anytime you do want to talk, I’m here.”
At the neighbor’s, a door opens, and Mr.Grindle whistles a tune as he walks around the side of the house.
Jasmine feels my muscles tense and chuckles.“Calm down.He’s taking out the trash.”
“He may be carrying trash to the can, but he’s whistling to let me know it’s time for me to skedaddle on home.Overprotective, but I still like them.”I press a kiss to her forehead, then stand.“I’ll see you on Wednesday.”
She walks me through the house and to her front porch.
I’m two steps down when she says.“Tyler, I like that you smile a lot.I’ve noticed that about you.”
“It makes my face prettier.I think.I’ve heard guys tell girls they’ll be prettier if they smile.Stands to reason that it should work both ways.”I tip my hat and hurry to the truck.
Her laughter rings out as I close my door, and I relish the sound.I must be the luckiest guy in the world to meet Jasmine twice.
