Page 9

9

Eloise

I wondered how Jack’s visit with his family went, but I wasn’t about to call him and ask what happened. Instead, I called Mable.

Hello, dear. Can you hang on for a moment, please? Your grandma owes me fifty dollars,” Mable said, cackling.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“I bet your grandma fifty dollars that you would call me tonight. Because you are just like us, nosy.”

“Forget I called,” I said.

“Are you saying you don’t want me to tell you about the kids and the father loving Jack on the spot? They hugged him and didn’t want to be apart from their brother. I’ll bet you one hundred dollars that they will all visit each other as often as possible,” Mable said, almost choking on her laughter.

“Mable, I am not going to bet you money…” And then, like an idiot, I broke down and cried.

“Oh, for Pete's sake, why are you crying?” Mable asked.

“Because Jack Raider finally has a family, and they want him in their lives,” I said, wiping my eyes.

“I know I had to walk into the kitchen when I saw how much they loved him. I was weeping like a baby. But don’t let Jack know we are cry babies, over his happiness,” Mable insisted.

“Yes, we all better zip our lips. Tell Grandma not to even cry in front of Nate.”

“Have a wonderful time on your date. Where are you going to dinner?” Mable asked.

“I don’t know, and don’t ask Jack, I don’t want anyone showing up out of the blue.”

“I’ll talk to you later. Your grandma and I are having a few glasses of wine together and reminiscing about when we were young,” she said.

“I don’t want either of you driving.”

“I’m spending the night at your grandmother’s tonight. Goodnight, dear.”

“Goodnight.” At least Mable didn’t have Henry hanging around anymore. I knew calling Grandma would work. Henry only wanted someone to take care of him, and he wasn’t suitable for Mable. My Grandma kicked him out of Mable’s house, because Mable didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

I took a deep breath, fed my dogs and my cat, made a sandwich, and sat down to watch Housewives of Atlanta.

Just as I settled into my bed with my sandwich and the dog on my feet, my phone buzzed.

Jack Raider.

Of course.

I stared at his name for a full ten seconds, debating whether to answer. My curiosity about his visit had already been satisfied—thanks to Mable and her wine-fueled gossip circuit—but still, the butterflies wouldn’t quit.

I picked up.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound like I wasn’t wearing a sweatshirt stained with mustard and curled under a throw blanket I’ve had since college.

“Hey,” Jack said, his voice low and smooth. “I just wanted to hear your voice before I crash. Long day.”

“How was your visit?” I asked, keeping my tone casual like I didn’t already have the full play-by-play.

“It was… incredible,” he said. “They’re really great kids. And my dad—he’s not who I expected. He cried, Eloise. Hugged me like he’s been waiting his whole life to meet me.”

I pressed the phone tighter to my ear, holding back tears all over again.

“I’m happy for you, Jack.”

“I want you to meet them someday,” he added softly. “Not right away, but… eventually.”

That pulled a genuine smile out of me. “I’d like that.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that somehow felt full instead of awkward.

“I can’t wait to see you on Friday,” he said.

“Me too. Just don’t tell Mable where we’re going. I’m trying to have dinner, not a family reunion in the parking lot.”

Jack laughed. “No promises. You know she’s probably bribing Nate right now for intel.”

I chuckled. “I wouldn’t put it past her, don’t tell him anything either.”

We said goodnight, and I stared at the ceiling for a long time after, wondering how the heck my quiet, predictable life turned into this whirlwind of emotion, family surprises, and late-night calls with a man who made my heart ache in the best way.

Eventually, I turned off the TV, kissed the dogs goodnight, and curled up under my blanket.

Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

I changed my outfit three times before settling on a dress that said “I’m not trying too hard,” even though I absolutely was.

My hands were still a little shaky when I parked outside the restaurant. Jack had picked a cozy little place in town I’d never even noticed before. The kind with string lights on the patio and a chalkboard menu out front. It looked… romantic.

Oh no.

This wasn’t just dinner. This was a date.

Jack stepped outside the restaurant before I could fully panic and reverse out of the parking lot. He was in dark jeans and a navy button-up shirt that made his shoulders look illegal. He saw me, grinned like the world had just delivered him his favorite person, and jogged over to open my car door.

“Hey,” he said, offering me his hand as I stepped out. “You look beautiful.”

I smiled, trying not to trip over my own feet or emotions. “So do you,” I said, and then cringed. “I mean—uh, you know what I meant.”

He just laughed. “I’ll take it.”

The restaurant was quiet, intimate, and blissfully free of Mable, Grandma, or Nate hiding behind a potted plant. We ordered wine, and Jack did that thing where he listened like no one else in the world mattered. I told him about my week, the dog that tried to chase a raccoon through my screen door, and how Mable called to “casually” ask what I was wearing tonight.

Jack chuckled. “Nate said she offered him fifty bucks and a slice of pie for info. He didn’t crack.”

“Good man,” I said, raising my glass.

But then Jack grew serious. He leaned forward, his voice soft.

“I meant what I said the other night, Eloise. About you meeting them. I want them to know you.”

I blinked. “You do?”

“You’re important to me. They should know that.” He reached across the table and took my hand, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I don’t want to keep any parts of my life separate anymore.”

I didn’t cry.

I didn’t cry.

Okay, I almost cried, but I hid it well behind a big sip of wine and a shaky smile.

“You’re important to me too, Jack,” I whispered.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter, shared dessert, and lingering looks that made me forget to breathe. When he walked me to my car and kissed me—slow and sweet and full of promise—I swear the universe paused for a second, just for us.

I drove home floating, my cheeks aching from smiling, my heart full in a way I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

And that night, as I curled into bed with the dogs, I whispered to the ceiling, “Thank you.”

Because somehow, against all odds, Jack Raider had become my favorite person.