Jesse takes a bite of his pizza and shrugs.
“Why do you want to do this?” I ask. “Why do you care about being sheriff? And don’t tell me it’s because you want to protect the town. You already do that as a deputy.”
He finishes his bite.
“You remember my grandfather?”
“Vaguely. I think he died when Hannah and I were pretty young.”
Jesse grabs a napkin too, wipes his mouth, tears off a strip, and crumples it between his fingers.
“He was important around town.”
“He was the sheriff,” Jesse says. “Died the sheriff.”
“Oh.”
“When I was fourteen years old, he called me into his office during one of our visits to my grandparents. We were there for Sunday lunch. I remember it like… I remember the smell of his cologne and cigarettes in his study. And how big he looked.” Jesse shakes his head. “He told me I needed to be more like Leo.”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah. He told me that Leo was going somewhere. That playing rugby was a valuable thing to do. Told me I was pissing my life away and that I wouldn’t amount to anything and that I could learn from my little brother.”
“Well, fuck that guy.”
Jesse’s gaze snaps to mine.
“Yeah, I can still feel him watching me sometimes. Judging.”
“What an awful thing to say to a kid. Like, that is heinous. What the hell?”
“What about you?” Jesse asks. “You got any fucked up memories?”
“Just my dad passing,” I say.
“Shit, sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”
“No, it’s okay. He’s a good memory. The best I have. The diner was his, and he left it to me when I was like, eighteen. It’s like I can keep him alive if I keep the diner running. Family is important to me. It’s all I’ve got.”
“And your friends?”
“They’re family too,” I say.
Jesse balls up the napkin and drops it on his plate.
“I lost my mother too, but we had time, at least, to deal with it. Your dad was sudden.”
I swallow, but the lump of emotion in my throat doesn’t budge. Jesse Taylorshouldbe the last person I want to talk to about this, but it’s surprisingly easy to tell him about Dad.
“Yeah. He was my hero. Billy’s too. He was at my soccer games, at parent-teacher meetings. My mom left after Billy was born, but my dad made up for it. He was two parents in one.”
Tears well up.
Jesse grabs a napkin and hands it to me. I dab under my eyes.
“The diner and my family are the two most important things in my life.”
“I’ll help you keep them safe.”