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JACKSON
PRESENT DAY…
“So, how’d your date go?”
T-ball practice is over and Terrell and I are gathering up the rest of the equipment from the field. Nia tagged along with him today. She’s busy with the kids and passing out the updated game schedule to all the parents, giving us a minute to talk.
“Not how I expected it to.”
“Oh, yeah?” Terrell wags his eyebrows at me. “Was she into that freaky-deaky stuff?”
“Yeah, that definitely didn’t happen. We ended up running into Rory and Brad at the restaurant. So my first date turned into a double date.”
“Yeah, but that’s good, right? Rory’s always been a great wing-man for you.”
I’m sure that’s how my friendship with Rory looks to the outside world. None of our friends know my true feelings, nor have they noticed this weird shift that’s suddenly happened between us.
“True, but our relationship can intimidate new people. Women easily get jealous and territorial about it. Usually double dates don’t happen until we’ve made sure the new person knows exactly how we are.”
“I can see that. So, did this chick get scared off?”
My mind goes back to last night. When I walked Vanessa to her door, she wrapped her arms around my neck and asked me if I wanted to come in. The old Jackson would have taken her up on the offer then never called her again. But I’m looking for something serious, which takes time and doesn’t involve ghosting some poor woman the day after a hookup. So instead, I gave her a soft kiss on the lips and scheduled our second date.
“Surprisingly, no. We’re going out again Wednesday.”
“Terrell, we’re going to be late!” Nia calls from across the field.
“Lunch with the in-laws.” Terrell hands me the bases he’s collected. “Enjoy the single life while you can.”
“Weren’t you the one who told me to hurry up and settle down?”
“Terrell, let’s go. Bye Jackson.” Nia waves at me.
“My opinion changes daily,” Terrell jokes as he walks off the field.
Once home, I decide to tackle a few projects I’ve been putting off. Looking around the laundry room and half-bath combo, I decide today is the perfect day to demo this room. Walking back outside, I head toward my tool shed.
I knew what I was signing up for when I bought this place. Mr. Jenkins, who owned the house, was a widow. He and his wife had one son who left for college in California and never moved back. For twenty something years, he lived here, alone. One afternoon, the station received a call from his son asking if we could perform a wellness check. Mr. Jenkins hadn’t answered his phone in two days, and the son was rightfully worried. When I pulled up to the rundown house, I found the old man lying on the front porch. He had tripped going up the steps and had been waiting for someone to find him. When the hospital finally released him, I made a point of checking in on him a few times a week. After he passed, his son asked if I knew anyone who might be interested in purchasing the home. He saw the place as a burden. It was too rundown to be a profitable rental, and the last thing he wanted to do was be a landlord. He ended up selling it to me for way below market value as a thank you for all that I did for his dad.
Grabbing a small sledgehammer and a few other things, I make my way back inside. There isn’t anything better to clear your mind than putting a few holes in walls. In the front room sits an old stereo system that belonged to Mr. Jenkins. It’s one of the few things his son left behind. My eyes glance over the CD jackets before finally settling on one. Lynyrd Skynyrd blares through the speakers as I begin my work. The hammer easily tears through the old drywall, and I’m soon completely tuned out to the world around me.
I have no clue how long I’ve been at it. All I know is the sun has set, and my arms feel like Jell-O. Looking around, I’ve got two of the four walls torn down and the old linoleum pulled up. I put the washer and dryer back in place for now, but the toilet lies on the floor in pieces. Grabbing the T-shirt I tossed on one of the broken boards, I pick it up and wipe the sweat off my brow.
“Busy day, I see.”
Turning toward what used to be the door, I find Rory standing there.
“It’s the first free weekend I’ve had in a while. Thought I’d take advantage of it.”
Rory’s eyes make their way from my face to my chest. They slowly trail down my abs before settling at my belt buckle. For a moment I think I see her breathing quicken, but when her eyes snap back to meet mine, she’s fully composed.
“I brought you dinner.” She moves into the kitchen and I happily follow her. The smell of food makes me suddenly aware of how hungry I am. “Your mom and I stopped at that BBQ place your dad likes on the way back from Austin.” Rory is standing at the kitchen table removing Styrofoam containers from brown paper bags.
“How’d dress shopping go?” Standing at the kitchen sink, I wash all the dust and debris off my hands. Glancing over my shoulder, I catch Rory staring at my back.
“Good.” She licks her lips before grabbing the plates and silverware from the drawer. “Your mom’s all set for the party and the wedding… and apparently every other function she needs to attend from now until she dies.”
“Thank you for going with her. Jameson’s wife, she’s, um—”
