Page 24 of Jesse

Somehow, it’s different.

CHAPTER NINE - EMMA

I think I need a moment.

I might need an entire lifetime to grasp what Jesse just told me.

“Processing, huh?” he says.

“Yeah,” I say. “Processing.”

“Don’t think about it too hard. I did that for way too long and it got me nowhere. Now that I’ve stopped life has gotten considerably easier.”

“How?” I ask.

“Well, I’m not focused on negative shit, you know. And—”

“No. How the hell do you just… not think about it? If someone killed my father and my uncle, Jesus. I’d be scarred for life, I think.”

“I take it you come from a somewhat normal family?”

“I guess. Yeah, I guess.”

“Your parents still together?”

“Yeah.”

He nods. “That makes a huge difference. At least, I think so. If my mom had been around when I was little I probably—maybe, possibly—could’ve skipped that long asshole, dick-face phase I went through as a teenager and after college.”

“What happened to your mom?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

“Just…” He shrugs. “Disappeared, I guess. I have no actual memories of her. Not one. Not even a picture.”

“Did your dad destroy them? I mean. I don’t understand. Not one picture? Not even when you were born?”

He shakes his head. “We had a few nannies when I was little. But not after I turned five.”

“Five?” Jesus Christ.

“Yeah. So that would’ve made Johnny seven, and Joey six. I guess my dad figured we could handle shit by then.”

I just stare at him.

He laughs, then places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Don’t look at me like that. It was fine.” Then he points to my ice cream cone, which is only half-eaten because I got so caught up in his story. “You gonna eat that?”

I look down at the cone. It’s melting all over the napkin. “Nah,” I say. “I’m done.”

“I’ll take it.” And then he takes it. And winks at me. And stuffs the whole thing in his mouth. He chews and swallows, then says, “I like butterscotch too, but I didn’t want you to think I was copying.”

He smiles.

Motherfucking smile of all smiles is what he’s beaming down at me.

“You’re… not what I expected.”

“I guess that’s a good thing?” he says. “Seeing as how you were kinda mean to me until I changed our future with ice cream cones.”

I try not to smile back. I bite my lip to keep it hidden. It doesn’t entirely work. “Sorry,” I say, suddenly feeling shy. Shy like the girl I was before Bright Berry Beach Cosmetics. Back when I knew this man and he was just a boy. “I guess I came on this date with a few preconceived notions.”