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Funny how when the poison has been sucked out of your life, goodness has room to shine. Even the air in here seems lighter. Sweeter.
When Preston feels confident his dad has a good handle on it, he finally looks to me. Gives me a small smile, though there’s a wariness there now that wasn’t there before. An unfamiliarity. All our previous exchanges were under false pretenses. We’re starting fresh.
“He’s running by the lake,” he says.
I wait to see if he offers to escort me, and when he doesn’t, I point toward the back of the house. “Mind if I go look for him?”
“Yes, of course.” He sits in the chair beside Harris. “He’ll be happy to see you.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I offer another smile and make my way to the next room. Harris calls after me. “You should stay for dinner!”
I turn. Am unsure what to say again.
Preston goes to nudge him but thinks better of it because of the tea. “That’s for Jake to decide.”
Harris ignores him. “We’re having brisket.”
I can’t help but chuckle. He looks so happy at the prospect. “Thank you,” I settle on, and turn for the back of the house again.
Brisket doesn’t sound half bad.
The only way I know how to get to the back yard from inside the house is through the kitchen, so I head that way. A red-haired woman is dicing something on a cutting board. Shallots, I think. I’m learning more about cooking…now that I’m actually doing it.
“Well, hi there, honey,” she says, laying down the knife. She wipes her hands on her apron, the lines beside her eyes splaying into her hairline as she greets me with a smile.
“Hi,” I say, and it’s then I realize I haven’t seen a single Chippendale butler. They must have gotten evicted after Magnolia and Ruby were arrested.
She swats a curl out of her face, her smile still in place. “And what’s your name?”
“I’m Scarlett.”
“Oh, I love that. Reminds me of Gone with the Wind.”
“My mom was a fan,” I reply with a rehearsed grin…like I’ve said to every other woman over fifty during my lifetime. I think Mom was silently disappointed when I wasn’t born with dark hair, blue eyes, and a perpetual resting bitchface.
“I’m Ms. Debbie. Will you be joining us for dinner?”
“I, um…” I motion outside. “I’m not sure yet? That’ll be up to Jake.”
A wink. “I’ll make more just in case.” She collects her knife with one hand and drags a tomato onto the cutting board with the other. “He’s out back running, if you’re looking for him. And take a couple waters from that fridge there. It’s hot as blazes.”
I spot Jake jogging around the far side of the lake-pond, in the direction of the bench under the branches, and hang back by the patio to observe.
The beginnings of sweat rings are forming under the arm holes of his grey tank, his golden hair flopping against his forehead. His face is relaxed but focused. His calves and the rounds of his shoulders have been kissed by the sun.
He looks good. Too good. Peaceful.
And I consider turning back around and leaving. Maybe I should leave him be.
But like any other time we’re in close proximity to each other, his radar pings and his ears prick.
He senses my presence.
I involuntarily take a step back and hold my breath.
His gaze sweeps this way, and when it lands on me, he squints to see better, but his legs still pump at the same pace.
I work up the nerve to give him a small smile and a wave.
Shock registers in his expression when he realizes who his silent spectator is. It morphs into excitement.
I inhale sharply.
Suddenly, he trips over his feet. Stumbles.
Oh no…
His arms pinwheel as he struggles to regain his footing, but it’s no use. He teeters over and rolls into the lake with a splash.
