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Chapter Eleven
Sadie
“Maybe you’d be better off if you went on your own.” Jude climbs out of his truck.
He’s freshly showered with a spritz of cologne, hair perfectly styled with no hat to be found, although his hair still has that messy look I love on him. He’s been telling me the entire drive over here that my mom is going to see right through him.
“Oh, stop it. She loves you.” I join him at the front of his truck and take his hand. He glances down and back up at me. “We’re supposed to be in love. You just proposed.”
He nods. “Yeah, of course.”
He steps forward, leading me by the hand up my mom’s porch steps. Once we’re at the door, Jude stops, and I’m not sure why. The man has been walking into my family’s house for years. Usually, he gives a short knock, then he peeks his head in.
It’s as if with the ring on my left hand, his mind is overloaded, and he can’t figure out how to act around me.
“Mom?” I open the screen door.
“Up here. I’ll be right down.”
“Okay.” I head into the small kitchen. “Want something to drink?” I shout to Jude.
“Sure,” he says from the door frame. He’s leaning his body along it, his hands stuffed into his pockets.
“What are you doing?” I grab two pops from the fridge and hand him one.
“Don’t couples stick together all the time?”
I laugh, but Jude doesn’t. Sometimes I forget he never grew up with an example of a couple since his mom died so young. But I’m not sure if he’s being sarcastic or not.
“I think they might not follow each other to the bathroom,” I say, and he chuckles, signaling he was, in fact, joking.
“I’m nervous,” he admits. “I hate lying.”
I put my finger over his mouth, but the stair creaks will tell us when my mom is on her way down. “Shh…”
He opens his mouth and bites my finger.
“Ouch.” I pull it back.
“That’s payback for licking my neck the other day.”
“I’ll give you that one.” I walk by him, and our bodies brush against each other. Those dreaded butterflies take flight in my stomach.
Thankfully, they die quickly with the sound of the stairs creaking. My mom appears right before I sit on the couch.
Jude waits at the end of the staircase, offering my mom his hand. “Hi, Mrs. Wilkins.”
“Jude. How sweet.” She puts her hand in his and eases off the last step. She’ll need to either move into a room downstairs soon, or we’ll have to figure something out with the stairs. “What brings you two over?”
Jude escorts her to her recliner, then he sits down next to me.
“We have something to tell you,” I say, my nerves causing my words to shake.
“Oh.” Her eyes fall to the space between us on the couch.
Jude is really bad at this pretend stuff.
I take his hand, but he doesn’t scoot closer.
