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Me:You’ll hear it soon. And I don’t have your mom.
Jamie:A book written by one of her favorite actors andI Love Lucychocolates. You definitely have my mom.
Chapter Thirty-Six
-Jamie-
Elliot:Still not telling you what song he’s singing.
This man.
Even through text he could make me laugh. He was just fifty feet away in our cabin, and I wished I was over there with him as he played with Dustin. Or I wanted him here with me in the main cabin, the music filling these walls. Instead, I was here with my mom, Jillian, and Carrie as we wrapped gifts for the kids. My mom, as usual, went overboard on the gifts for her grandchildren, but Carrie drew the line at getting Dustin his own guitar.
“He has to prove he wants to do it first,” she mumbled as she stuck tape to the side of the island. “You know Dustin, he was into karate for a moment too but didn’t stick with that.”
“Maybe karate wasn’t his thing, but maybe the guitar is. I saw his face as he watched Elliot play—” I stopped, literally feeling myheart stop beating as I waited for their response. Maybe they didn’t catch that I just calledDaxton,Elliot. Maybe it would slide off their shoulders.
“I’m sure he enjoys playing with Dax, but I can’t afford to put him in another lesson if he’s not going to stick with it. Karate was expensive.” Carrie finished with the tape, setting it down on the countertop harder than she intended.
“I wish you lived closer. I’m sure Daxton would teach him for free. Dax is good with kids.” I used my fingernail to create a stronger crease in the wrapping paper.
“Yeah, well, I don’t like Portland, and I’m sure Dax wouldn’t drive to our neck of the woods.”
“You only live a few hours away. Daxton and I could take trips to see you once a month or so.”
Carrie shook her head. “If Dustin is really into it, Holden and I will talk about it later.”
“He was really cute when he came over and asked for Daxton.” I smiled, counting in my head how many times I had said “Daxton” since slipping “Elliot” earlier. Four times? Maybe five . . . if I kept going it was going to become obvious I was purposefully saying his name.
Maybe he was right, maybe I should tell them sooner rather than later. Goodness knows I wanted to. It was obvious to me that Elliot was in my life for longer than the three-week mark we had originally planned on. Just the thought of being separate from him again once we got back to Portland . . . pretending this never happened . . . I didn’t like that. I wanted to be near him constantly. I wanted to hear his voice and feel his lips against mine. But he couldn’t be “Daxton” to my family forever. It’s not like he changed the way he acted, he was himself around them, one hundred percent. It was just the name that was different.
“Hey, Mom,” I heard myself say before I could stop it. I guess I was telling themnow. In the midst of them talking about Dustin and how he wanted to play the guitar, I was telling them about Elliot. “I really need—”
Just then, the front door flew open. My two brothers and all the kids flew through the door, my dad following them slowly. They trampled in with the ski boots still firmly on their feet, the banging on the wood floor caused my mom to drop the wrapping paper and march towards them.
“If you ruin the flooring and we have to pay for it when we leave . . .” she scolded.
Jillian and I laughed as we gathered the wrapped gifts. Thankfully, all had been wrapped. Placing them by the fireplace—missing the giant tree we normally would have—I sighed and looked at Jillian.
“I almost let something slip,” I whispered.
“I was wondering how many more times you were going to say ‘Daxton’ after you called him ‘Elliot,’” she whispered back. “You’re going to tell them, then?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Eventually. He wants to tell everyone.”
“Well, I’m on his side. You aren’t pretending with him so why pretend with us?”
“I don’t want to, it’s just . . .”
“Awkward.”
I nodded. “I don’t want Mom to bring my health into it, you know?”
Jillian scrunched her nose. “She won’t. She’ll understand.” Lifting her arm she rubbed my shoulder, forcing me to move, “How does Elliot react to it? Is he as worried as we’ve been?”
Thinking of Elliot, mainly his lips on my scar, I blushed and shook my head. “No, he doesn’t even take notice of it very much. It’s just . . . me.”
Jillian dropped her hand. “Itisjust you.” She smirked. “You know I’m still reeling over it, but I think mom will take it easier than you think. Dad on the other hand . . . he really . . . really likesDaxton.”
