Page 11 of Just One Look

Jackson

This lunch has not gone to plan at all.

First, Maverick shows up out of the blue with chicken soup. Then, Clancy invites him to stay, and the guy has to witness my family in complete out-of-control mode. Then, Sib takes him outside and says god knows what to him. I’ve begged her three times since Maverick’s gone to tell me, and three times, all she’s said is to mind my own business—the irony—and to wear something nicer for when Maverick comes over later.

It probably costs less than a shoelace on one of his high-priced sneakers, but my red crew-neck T-shirt and cargo shorts are just fine, thank you very much. I’m not putting on a show just because Maverick might be coming over.

Besides, I have more important things to worry about than my appearance. I’ve got to tell everyone about my condition, which I’m seriously considering not doing. It was already bound to be a major bummer, but now that Maverick and his family might be coming over later, do I really want them showing up to a party that’s had all the buzz sucked out of it? What’s the harm in delaying it until next week’s family lunch?

“Hey.”

Clancy appears next to me as I rinse the cutlery under warm water.

“Hey.”

“Sorry about inviting Maverick in,”

he says.

“It completely slipped my mind that you were going to tell everyone today.”

“It’s fine. You’re old. I forgive you.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“And about Verity and Sib. They didn’t mean?—”

“I know. It’s my fault.”

I plunge both arms into the sink.

“If I’d told them sooner, I’m sure they wouldn’t have done it.”

Clancy rubs my arm.

“Are you okay?”

“With what? The fact that my central vision is starting to deteriorate rapidly, or that Maverick showed up here with soup because he was worried about us, or that I have to tell my family I’ll be blind by Christmas?”

“All of it.”

I shut my eyes and drop my head.

“Do I really have to tell them today?”

“That’s up to you,”

Clancy replies.

“But delaying it won’t make it any easier.”

He’s right. I pull the plug and dry my hands on the dish towel.

“No time like the present, right?”

We walk into the living room. Clancy turns off the game Jack and Chris were watching on TV. Chris is about to pipe up in protest, but Sibella is the first to read the mood.

“What’s wrong?”

she asks, breaking out of her conversation with Verity and Pip, her intelligent eyes darting between me and Clancy.

“Jackson has something to say.”

Clancy motions for me to take the floor, and he joins Pip and Verity on the couch.

“Um, yeah. So, I don’t really know how to say this…”

Wringing my hands together, I begin with the symptoms I started experiencing late last year to the diagnosis I got a few months ago.

“The thing is, having optic neuritis on top of my preexisting condition is incredibly rare. That explains my headaches. I wouldn’t have them if I only had one of the conditions. But combined, it makes weird stuff like that happen.”

My throat clams up as I get to the part I’ve been dreading the most.

“It also means that instead of losing my sight in my forties or fifties, it’ll happen a lot sooner than that.”

“How soon?”

Sibella asks.

I drop my gaze to the floor, not wanting to face my sisters as I deliver the news.

“It’s already started. I can’t drive at night. Dim light is a nightmare. My central field of vision is narrowing. Dr. Ward couldn’t give an exact timeframe, but if I’m lucky? A few months, tops.”

Sibella grunts as she struggles to push to her feet, and along with Verity, they rush over to wrap me up in their arms. The familiar scent of my sisters washes over me as we hug and cry in front of everyone.

“For once in my life, I’m speechless,”

Sibella says, pulling back slightly.

I chuckle.

“And yet you somehow find a way to speak through your speechlessness.”

I stare at her.

She looks back at me.

I grin.

Her mouth curves.

It only grows from there.

Verity giggles.

Pip snorts.

And before you know it, all seven of us are laughing like absolute idiots. I take in my family through tear-soaked eyes, and despite delivering the worst news of my life, right now…I’m actually happy.

Pip frees up the couch so that I can sit between my sisters, holding their hands as we all discuss my next steps.

Where am I going to live? In my cabin at the rescue center.

Will I need any extra medications? I don’t believe so, no.

Will I learn braille? Possibly at some stage, but I’m currently looking into screen readers and voice assistants.

How will I get around? That one is still up in the air. Silverstone doesn’t have much in the way of public transit, so I’m most likely going to have to rely on ride-share apps.

Verity jolts upright with a gasp, like the realization has only just hit her.

“What about your work, Jackson? You won’t be able to ride horses, will you?”

“Of course I will,”

I reply defiantly.

“I know that sanctuary like the back of my hand. I’m currently mapping everything out so I know the distances between places. Besides, I can use verbal cues, routine, and touch to interact with horses. It’s not all visual.”

“But, Jackson, come on. It’s a safety thing. Surely you can’t?—”

“I’m not listening. So please stop, Verity.”

That is one thing I will never be ready to accept. Horses aren’t just a passion for me; they’re my life. My connection to them runs in my blood. If I have to make some modifications so I can do my work, fine, but I’d rather die than stop working with them.

“I’m sure Maverick will do everything he can to help. He’s a good guy.”

Pip sniffs, dabbing his eyes again.

Clancy nods in agreement.

“He’s a really good guy.”

“Supports the wrong baseball team, but apart from that, he seems decent enough,”

Chris supplies with a grin.

My lower lip starts trembling.

They’re right. Maverick is a good guy.

A good guy I can never be with.

An hour later, my phone buzzes.

Clancy, Verity, and Sib are sitting on lean chairs in the backyard, watching Chris and Tim toss a football. Pip and I are at the patio table. Pip’s still grazing. I’m still not hungry, even after getting my big announcement out of the way.

“Is that him?” Pip asks.

After everyone went outside, Pip hung back and told me how much he loved me, how he’d never forget what we did for him, and how I can always, always, always rely on him for anything I need.

I check my phone, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

“Yeah. It’s him.”

“Are they coming over?”

I bring the phone close up to my face to read the texts.

Maverick: Hey. Checked with Wagner. He’s happy to come over to yours.

Maverick: I may have asked him in front of Sammy who lit up with excitement which made it near impossible for Wagner to say no.

Maverick: Sorry!

“Yep, he’s coming,”

I tell Pip, who lets out an excited whoop.

“Awesome. I’ll go tell everyone.”

He gets up and presses a hand to my shoulder before skipping down the steps with a grin, eager to share the news.

Me: Don’t be sorry. We invited you.

Maverick: We?

Me: Okay, technically, my meddling sister did. She didn’t physically hurt you when you went out to her car, did she? You don’t have to say anything. Just reply with a sad-face emoji if she did, and I’ll take care of it.

Maverick: She was fine. The perfect blend of love and overkill. She’s a good sister.

I groan because he’s right and because even though I am an adult, I secretly love it when Sib gets her guardian on. She really is a good sister, and I know she’s going to be the best mom in the world.

Me: It’ll be good to see Sammy again and meet your brother.

Maverick: Wow. Way to fracture my sensitive ego.

I didn’t exclude him on purpose, but of course that’s how he’d interpret it.

Me: Something tells me your ego is fine and doesn’t need any more stroking.

Bouncy dots flash on my screen. Then disappear. Then return.

Maverick: My ego may not need any more stroking, but I can’t say the same about my…

Maverick:

A quiet chuckle slips out as I shake my head.

I’m so confused by my feelings for Maverick, and I’m so emotionally drained from telling my family today.

But also?

I am so…fucking…horny.

Light-headed with desire for Maverick.

Like dry kindling that only needs the smallest spark to set alight. So achingly close to giving in to the tension that’s been buzzing under my skin from the moment we met on the street outside Bunny’s.

I take a deep breath, drag my fingers through my hair so hard they dig into my scalp, and remind myself of two things.

Firstly, I’m in Clancy’s house. And even though I may have jerked off into my socks incessantly like plenty of teenage boys do, it would be highly inappropriate, not to mention just downright weird, to jerk off in his bathroom now.

And secondly, I’m already playing with fire, letting Maverick get way too close. My boundaries seem to be slipping, but that doesn’t mean I should let them fall entirely. It’d be wrong to lead him on without letting him know what he’s getting himself into with me, and I’m not prepared to do that yet.

So I take the easy way out and keep my reply light and totally nonsexual.

Me: Hahaha… I’ll see you guys later!