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No way, I think as I shake my head. Didn’t she tell me to stay away from her brother?
Still, I can’t help but wonder.
~
By evening, I’ve forgotten about it. With all the work Ken has dumped on me, I haven’t had time to think about anything else. I’m still working, in fact. I’ve kept my word and decided to work overtime to make up for being late this morning. Ken has already left. My fingers tapping the keys as I put numbers into spreadsheets is the only sound in the office, but I can still hear some machines whirring outside.
I guess it’s just me and the workers left here now.
Or so I think until the door opens. Jackson comes in holding two steaming mugs of coffee.
“I thought you might need this,” he tells me as he sets one of them on my desk.
“Thank you.”
I pick it up with both hands and close my eyes as I breathe in the bittersweet aroma of the roasted coffee beans. I lift it to my lips to take a sip. As the warm liquid flows down my throat, a sense of calm washes over me. I wasn’t sure I needed this, but now that my mind feels clearer, I’m grateful for it.
“Do you like it?” Jackson asks me. “I wasn’t sure how you take your coffee.”
“I do,” I answer.
As I take a second sip, I taste hints of vanilla, cinnamon and hazelnut, even a dash of mint. The combination makes the coffee on the sweeter side, but I can still feel the kick. It’s just how I like it.
“Shouldn’t the intern be the one bringing the boss coffee, though?”
Jackson chuckles. “You watch too many TV shows.”
He pulls a chair near my desk.
“Mind if I keep you company for a bit?”
I shrug. “You’re the boss.”
He turns the chair around and sits on it with his legs on either side.
“Where’s Maisie?” I ask.
“Sleeping in the next room. She got tired from playing all day.”
“Better to be tired from playing all day than from working all day, right?”
Jackson nods. “You have a point.”
He takes a sip from his mug. I tap mine.
“I heard about your wife,” I say as I gaze into the bronze liquid.
He lowers his mug. “So Ken told you, did she?”
I nod. “I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not your fault she died. It was her time to go.”
“Well, at least she left someone for you.”
“You’re right.” Jackson smiles. “And I’ll forever be grateful.”
I, too, smile as I remember him and Maisie playing earlier. She’s one lucky girl to have a father who loves her so much.
“You know, she likes you,” Jackson tells me.
“Does she?”
“She said you’re nice.”
I smile wider. “She’s a good judge of character then.”
“You have no idea. I think she’s wiser than some adults I know.”
“She does seem like a smart girl.”
Jackson nods. “Smart. Independent. Sociable. Kind. Brave.”
As he enumerates the qualities of his daughter, his eyes glisten with pride. My chest swells with warmth.
“She can be stubborn, too, though.”
I grin. “Can she?”
He looks past the window. “Actually, she reminds me of Trisha sometimes.”
My fingers grow still around my mug.
Trisha. I guess it’s inevitable for her name to come up when I’m talking to her brother. I just don’t understand how Jackson can speak of her so easily when I can’t even say her name even after all this time.
“Sorry,” he says. “I know you must still miss her. You two were very close, after all.”
I set my mug down. “It’s not just that. Each time I think of her, it hurts because I can’t even remember the last time I was with her.”
“What do you mean?”
I hesitate for a moment but decide there’s no harm in telling Jackson.
“I… can’t remember what happened… the night she…” I pause to swallow the lump in my throat. “That night. I… drowned, too, so apparently something happened to my brain and I can’t remember some things.”
“I see.” Jackson touches his chin. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I wish I could remember. Maybe then I’d finally be able to move on.”
Jackson gets out of his chair and stands next to me. His hand lands on my shoulder.
“I’m sure it will come back to you someday,” he says as he squeezes it. “And if not, maybe that’s better. Maybe that’s what Trisha wants – for you to just remember all the good times you had and not how they ended.”
I look at him. “You think?”
He nods. “And you know her. What she wants, she usually gets.”
I grin. “Yeah. That sounds like her.”
He pats my shoulder. “There. A smile looks better on you.”
I look away as I try not to blush.
“I’m sure Trisha would want you to be happy, too,” he adds. “She’d only want the best for her best friend.”
Jackson’s words take me by surprise. Like a wave, they crash against my heart, breaking through its hard shell and seeping in through the cracks. They wash some of the pain and anxiety away.
