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We stop at the bench near a pond, sitting and watching the ducks glide across the surface.
“But that doesn’t mean he’s flirting. Maybe he’s just trying to be nice.”
“Why is he texting you atall, Zoey? I get helping you with the Axel situation, but texting you late at night?”
“He’s a good man, though.”
“What does that mean?”
“He wouldn’t hit on his dead best friend’s daughter. That’s what it means, and he’s Mom’s ex.”
“Youthinkhe’s your mom’s ex? You haven’t gotten the full story.”
“Well, I’m not going to interrogate her about it.”
We sit quietly for a while, then I say, “I didn’t mean to snap, Nat. I’m sorry.”
She touches my arm softly. “Don’t be. I get it. You know what I think you should do?” She grins. “Show up at his place in a sexy outfit, watch him carefully, andthenyou’ll know. But wait. Don’t watch his eyes. Watch his—”
“Okay, okay,” I say, laughing before she can get explicit. “There’s no way I could do that. I’d melt with embarrassment.”
“He’d die too when all his blood circulation—”
“Please, enough.” My laughter has a somehow sad tinge to it, perhaps because I know, deep down, Jaxson would never react how I want him to. “Anyway, he hasn’t texted me back. Clearly, this is the end of whatever we were starting, and that’s probably for the best.”
“Ifhe and your mom were together, but you still haven’t found that out for sure.”
“Every time I ask her, she freaks. She hates me for bringing it up.”
“Come on. That’s a little harsh.”
“Okay, maybe nothates, but she really doesn’t like it. She resents it and wishes I’d pretend it never happened. Why would she react like that if there was no truth to it?”
“I don’t know,” Natasha says quietly, “but we should probably head back unless we want to miss class.”
She’s right, and we walk back together. I try to focus for the rest of the day, aiming my attention at the lecturer and the old classic books, but my mind is a hostage to Jaxson. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket several times, even if it doesn’t.
During the drive home, I think about what Natasha said about the chance that Mom and Jaxson were never an item, but that could be wishful thinking slapping me across the face. Let’s say Mom and Jaxson weren’t together—and that’s the mother of allifs—it doesn’t mean he’d want me. He was still Dad’s best friend.
I can guess what happened and why he stopped responding to me. He was trying to be nice. Then he read over the conversation and realized he might’ve given me the wrong idea. His friendly messages could seem like flirting, so he decided to back off to leave my thoughts to spiral and flurry and become borderline unbearable. No,nope, no way. I’m not letting myself get morbid about this.
Mom’s sitting on the couch when I get home. I sit on the armchair and glance over at her. There’s no benefit to dragging this up again, especially since I haven’t mentioned it in a long time, but Natasha’s words won’t leave me alone.
“Is something on your mind?” Mom asks.
I could tell her no and dance away from this topic. “Well,” I say cautiously, “I was just thinking about you and Jaxson.”
Mom sits up. When she frowns, her sharp cheekbones cut the light, and her eyes narrow. “Okay…”
“I guess I was wondering what exactly happened between you two. You didn’t seem very happy that he came by to help with the Axel situation.”
Mom stands, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to talk about this, and I’m running late.”
“Late for what?”
“I promised one of the ladies from work I’d meet her for a few drinks. I need to get ready.”
She almost runs to her room, refusing to look at me, doing nothing for the doubt and the guilt flaring up in me. It’s like an infection that won’t quit, so imagine how much worse it would be if Jaxson and I actuallydidsomething. Mom doesn’t want to talk about it. Is that because something happened?
