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“Well, he and I had a few things to work out.”
“How’d that go?”
“Not bad but we’ll see. Baby steps and all that.” She swallows. “Seems like we have some trust issues to work out, too.”
I nod. “I agree.”
“Beforethe fake wedding.”
“That…” I pause, holding back the smile begging to shine through, “is gonna have to be one hell of a fake counselor.”
“They certainly have their work cut out for them,” she quips. “You’re all sorts of messed up.”
“And you’re about one mental break away from a straitjacket.”
“And yet…” she nods slowly, “I think we can make it work.”
“Me, too.” I step around her to release the cinch off the truck. “So, what are you thinking of majoring in?” I ask.
“Business,” she answers.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I figure Mr. Trin’s gotta kick it at some point and I basically already know how to run his shop. Doesn’t seem like a bad gig; bringing toys and happiness to all the little children of Clover.”
I attach the cinch to her front bumper. “And it’ll make it so much easier for you to slip them doobies and condoms with each purchase of twenty dollars or more.”
“I know you’re kidding,” she says, “but that’s exactly what they’ll say, isn’t it?”
“Pretty much but hopefully by then the name Jovie Ross won’t need a positive spin anymore.”
“Hopefully.”
I step around her toward the truck.
“Will…” I pause mid-stride, feeling her fingertips graze my arm but she doesn’t latch on. “I’m sorry,” she says. “About everything. Everything that I could control, everything that I couldn’t control…”
“Hey.” I cup her face. “I know. And this is going to be the last time you ever apologize for it. Okay?”
She nods. “Okay.”
I kiss her forehead. She tilts up and we lock lips for a brief moment, too. “Let’s go home.”
Jovie looks up at me with clouded eyes, the same ambiguous stare I’ve seen in her since we were kids. She could turn and run. She could stay and fight. Two extremes, both equally as possible and impossible as the other.
Finally, she smiles.
***
Since day one, people have asked me what the hell I see in Jovie Ross.
At first, I wasn’t sure how to answer them. What business was it of theirs anyway? Over time, I’d mostly shrug off the question.
‘Just look at her,’I’d say.
She’s beautiful. She’s witty and smart. Sexy and great in bed. She can dish it out and take it right back. Strong yet vulnerable. Courageous yet shy.
I’d list off all of these amazing qualities that came as naturally to her as breathing does to the rest of us but I never stopped to think about why I could see those qualities when everyone else clearly could not.
