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Do I ask him to come in? Is it too soon?
“I don’t think we’ve exchanged numbers.”
He’s right. We seem to be doing everything backward. We trade phones and enter our contact information.
“I had a great time tonight.”
“Me too. Sorry things got a little deep at dinner.”
“The conversation was my favorite part. That, and making out in my truck.” Jackson smirks.
His sweetness and humor are climbing the list of things I love about him.
“I’ll agree with that. Are you working tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Earl and Sylvia need as much help as they can get these days. Have fun tomorrow. It should be beautiful.” Jackson leans in and gives me a full, soft kiss, turns, and walks into the darkness below. I desperately want him to slip under the covers with me.
I could have asked him to stay or at least come inside for a drink.That would have seemed too eager. Right? I don’t want to come on too strong.
Leaning against the screen door, I watch his headlights illuminate the dirt driveway and disappear into the night. I open the door to the cabin and the scent of pine and vanilla fills my nose. The table lamp illuminates the walls and pictures I brought from home. I admire the new items I’ve purchased—the cozy couch pillows, the small bookshelf showcasing my favorite reads, and the plants sitting on almost every flat surface. It fills me with warmth and pride. This cabin will be my safe haven, filled with items and people I love most, and I’m more confident than ever moving here was the correct decision.
And I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but Jackson has invaded every cell in my mind and body since that day at the hardware store.
I cover a yawn and let the tiredness from today sink in. I wouldn’t give back one minute of it, though. This day was by far the best date of my life. My phone beeps as I attempt to muster the energy to shower.
Mom:
Did you have fun tonight?
I quickly scan the empty living room and the vacant driveway outside. Seriously, did they install security cameras in this place?
Ummmmm? Yes???
That’s great! Any other news?
Seriously, Mom, how did you know I was out?
Don’t be mad. Your father and I were talking to your brother. He knows how much your father worries. He reminded Dad we installed the “find family” feature that shows us your location. Remember, when you were a teenager, we would keep tabs on you guys? I guess we never deleted it.
Is she serious? I’m twenty-six years old, and my parents are still tracking me. Fantastic.
I’m not mad but . . .
So, what did you do? I mean, I have the location of where you were, but who were you with? Meet anyone special?
There is no sense trying to pull one over on my intrusive mother. Even one hundred and fifty miles apart, she is still invading my personal space. It’s never going to be any other way. I’m not sure if all moms act this way, but when she’s wrong, she’s right. Her unsolicited advice is always spot-on. She’s pushy but supportive-ish. So, if she wants to track me, I guess I’ll have to let her.
His name is Jackson.
Nice name. Is he a nice boy?
Man, Mom. He’s a man.
Right.
Yes, he’s very nice. Cute too.
That’s fantastic, honey. Just be careful. Does he have any connections?
