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JEM
The television is on, but Dad’s gaze is on the framed photo next to it, where my other father’s joyful face is proof that the past was as happy as we all thought. Or maybe Gabe was fooling us even then. Faking his smiles until he grew tired of us and left.
I clear my throat again. “Dad.”
It takes three more times before he looks my way, and when he does, he’s as absent as the man in the photo.
“I’m heading next door, to babysit,” I say. Not that he particularly cares where I am or what I’m doing. All he does these days is stare at that photo. He doesn’t notice much when I’m around, so it’s unlikely he’ll notice I’m gone.
I mean, I turned eighteen last week, and it was the second birthday I’ve had that’s gone under the radar. Nohappy birthday, Jem. Not even a whisper. Just a too-little, too-late call from Gabe on the wrong day, which I didn’t bother to answer. Call metwice shy, because I refuse to risk being abandoned by the man more than once.
Dad turns and nods at me, like he’s heard what I said. Then his gaze drifts back to the news, as if he has the capacity to pay attention to anything happening in the world today.
I sigh at his glazed expression and lack of energy. I once loved Gabe with all my heart too, but he left, and no amount of apologizing is going to make me forgive him. I hate him for what he did to our family, and every time I look at Dad, I reaffirm that I don’t ever want to fall in love or depend on anyone the way he did Gabe.
My neighbor gets it. She’s single on purpose. Independent and thriving, as she creates the family and life she’s always wanted. Time and again, I look at how freely she lives and think,That’s what I want.
So many times I’ve needed guidance and asked myself,What would Shelby Cooper do?
The answer is always something empowering and inspiring. She makes me feel like I’m capable of anything — I just need to figure out what I want.
I knock on her door and call out that I’ve arrived, and her voice rings down the stairs. “Come on in, Jem. We’ll be down in a sec.”
I help myself to a grape from a fruit platter on her kitchen counter, and stand taller when she comes into view with little Jaxon on her hip. “You look amazing,” I say, admiring her shimmery dress with envy. “Where are you off to?”
Shelby grins and hands Jax over, so she can finish putting on her dangling earrings without his trying to rip them from her ears. “You like?” she asks with a twirl. “I’m going to down margaritas at that new line-dancing place, and snag a good-ol’ country man, who’ll want to go for coffee after — and bycoffee, I meansex, because I want a warm body large enough to give me cuddles, and a grown man grabbing at my tits instead of a needy little baby.” She giggles and tickles Jaxon’s chubby feet until he grins and squeals and kicks.
She’s always so… open and shameless.
Shelby Cooper knows what she wants, she knows how to get it, and she doesn’t give a shit if anyone judges her for it. She’s kind of my hero.
“Well, good luck,” I say. “I wouldn’t know where to start with any of that,” I admit with a snort, as I jiggle her ten-month-old on my hip. “The boys at school bugged the hell out of me, and I’m just grateful I don’t have to see them anymore. I still can’t understand how half of them got accepted into colleges on the three brain cells they shared between them when two of those neurons were so clearly focused on getting their dicks sucked. Blows my mind.” I make a silly face at Jaxon. “You’re the only cutie-patootie boy I’ll suffer, kid.”
Shelby watches me with a smile. “He’s definitely my fave. But a decent roll in the hay with a grown man gives me tingles, and tonight, I need me some tingles,” she says. Her gaze lingers on my knitting bag a moment, and she draws her brows down a little. “How’s your dad doing?”
I shrug, because what can I say? It’s been nearly two years, so it’s hard to know if things are going to improve at all. None of the antidepressants Dad tries seem to touch his melancholia, and I’m not sure he’ll ever be okay again.
“Have you heard much from your friends?” Shelby asks. “It’s got to be hard, staying home to take care of David, when everyone else has left for college.”
I shake my head. “Honestly, I didn’t have that many friends, and the few I had were in a hurry to leave town and move on before I was free to. Technically, I skipped a grade, so a gap year isn’t the end of the world, and I’m not even sure college is the right path for me, so it’s more financially viable if I take the time, to be sure,” I say with certainty. “And I don’t mind staying home,” I add. “It’s not like I begrudge Dad his grief and mental fragility. He’d take care of me if things were reversed.” The words leave my mouth automatically, but I only half-believethem. I used to be sure of his love, but it’s hard to be certain anymore. I haven’t felt it in so long. If I think about it too much, it’s hard to believe anyone cares, when even my parents have literally or figuratively abandoned me.
Am I the problem?
“You should come over more often,” Shelby says interrupting my thoughts. Her expression is filled with concern. “I worry about you. Maybe I could take you out sometime?”
I laugh softly. “To meet country men and havecoffee?”
“If you want.” She winks.
I laugh harder, and then moan. “I do want to trycoffee, but I’m…” I gesture at myself and shrug. “I don’t think I’m anyone’s type. And knowing my luck, I’d snag some useless-in-bed guy, who’d ruin the idea of sex forever. Or I’d accidentally seduce a kidnapper or something, and then who’d take care of Dad?”
Shelby chuckles too, but then she gets all serious and thoughtful. “You’re definitely somebody’s type, Jem, but my advice would be to find an older guy, for your first time. Someone who looks and feels good to you, who’s had some practice at pleasing a woman. A sweet thing like you would have him eating out of the palm of your hand within minutes. All you’d need to do is be honest and tell him what you want — decent sex and an orgasm — and ask if he can help. You just do that as many times as it takes to get laid, but I doubt you’d get a singleno,so be prepared to get lucky on your first try.”
What she says makes way too much sense, and it sort of sounds complimentary, which puts butterflies in my stomach. “You really think so?”
She swats a hand at me. “Men can be very obliging if it suits them. I asked the cutest one I could find to put a kid in me, with the understanding that I didn’t want him to stick around and cramp my style by needing to play Daddy, and the pretty, dimpled son of a bitch did it. You’d be surprised what you can getif you only ask. If you want something, you have to be brave and go get it.”
