Page 9 of Just One Look

Jackson

I glance nervously through the kitchen window, shielding my eyes from the glare. Clancy is grilling up sausages while my sisters’ partners, Tim and Chris, are setting up string lights for tonight.

“He’s fine, Jaxi,”

my sister Sibella says, waddling over to me. She’s due in the fall but looks like she could pop any second now.

“He’s not fine.”

I’m too strung out about Clancy to chide her for using the nickname I hate.

“He’s been sick for the past two days.”

That food poisoning really affected Clancy. When I called in after work to check on him, he looked awful, so I moved in and have been taking care of him. I don’t know if a fear of throwing up is an actual, real thing and something that can be genetically passed down, but whether it’s real or imagined, Clancy and I both suffer from it. Big-time. No way was I going to let him go through it alone.

He ate some crackers yesterday afternoon and managed to keep them down and seems to be doing better today, but I still think we should have canceled. Even if it is the Fourth of July. I’m not sure he’s ready for this. That’s my biggest concern. It has nothing to do with me not wanting to tell everyone about my diagnosis.

“And how are you feeling?”

my other sister, Verity, asks.

She and Pip have taken over the counter. She’s putting the finishing touches on her world-famous potato salad, and Pip is slicing up watermelon.

“You never miss work,”

he chimes in.

“Everything okay?”

Food poisoning–wise, yes, I’m fine. Eye-wise? Not so much. The headaches have been getting worse lately, and my central vision gets intermittently hazy.

“Just the usual headaches,”

I say, saving the whole truth for after the meal.

“How bad are they?”

Verity asks.

“To be honest, they’re so frequent I’ve gotten used to them that I don’t think they’re really that bad.”

“That doesn’t sound right. You should book in with your ophthalmologist,”

Sib says, dropping down into a chair in one swift, heavy motion. My heart leaps into my throat, and her eyes widen.

“I keep forgetting I’m as big as a house and shouldn’t do that.”

Verity smiles at her, stirs in one final spoonful of mustard into her salad, then turns to me.

“She’s right. You should.”

I swallow guiltily. I already have, I want to say.

Now could be a good time to tell them, but I planned to do it when we were all around the table, had eaten, shared some laughs, and then I would drop the bomb. It’d give everyone a few hours to process and hopefully not bleed into the nighttime and ruin watching the fireworks.

I blink a few times, the pressure building behind my eyes.

“I will, I will. So, Pip, how’s the study going? Clancy was this close to sending out a search party.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while since we’ve seen you,”

Verity says.

“What’s been happening?”

I breathe out a sigh of relief that my change of topic worked.

Pip squirms.

“Great. I’m doing a course over the summer for autism support and looking at placements for next semester.”

It sounds like a perfectly normal answer, but I can tell by the way he’s speaking faster and nervously tapping his fingers against the steel edge of the knife that he’s lying. Or, at least, keeping something from us. He hasn’t been this evasive since he first showed up. It took months for him to trust me and begin opening up. As close as we are now, I’m realizing there are still so many things I don’t know about him and his past.

“Food’s up!”

Tim sticks his head in through the door. His voice lowers to a tender coo as he turns to Sib and asks.

“How are you doin’, baby?”

I make eye contact with Pip and subtly roll my eyes. I love that Tim is such a loving, attentive husband, and I get that having your first kid is a big deal, but if I had a nickel for every time he’s asked Sib how she’s doing since they arrived an hour ago…I’d have a freaking dollar.

“I’m good. Hoist me up?”

“Of course.”

He dashes into the kitchen and helps her to her feet. The love in his eyes, his devotion, treating her like she’s the most precious thing in the world, for all the times it makes me want to gag, this time, it makes my heart clench with an unfamiliar longing. It’d be nice to have someone treat me like that.

“Here.”

Pip shoves a platter of sliced watermelon into my chest.

“Take these out. I’ll grab the buns. And I don’t mean my cute bubble butt.”

“Sure thing,”

I say, keeping my eyes on Tim and Sibella as he opens the door for her and lets her go first.

I smile wistfully.

Yeah, that’ll never happen for me.

“So how’s everything going at the sanctuary?”

Chris asks from across the table a few minutes later.

We’re out on Clancy’s back patio. The midday heat radiates up from the wooden planks, warming the soles of my bare feet, a gentle breeze stirring the orchard leaves out beyond the backyard.

“Good,”

I say, helping myself to some of Verity’s potato salad before passing it to Pip.

Chris receives a not-so-subtle nod from Verity I could spot a mile away, even with my deteriorating eyesight, and presses.

“Anything interesting going on?”

“Well, we’re finally getting plumbing in the barn, which is totally awesome,”

I reply, showing them both I have zero intention of making this easy. If they want to pry, then just come right out and pry already.

“And way overdue,”

Pip says, loading up his plate with several giant spoonfuls, then handing the salad to Clancy. Dude may be tiny, but man, can he pack it away.

“And how’s the new boss?”

“New owner,”

I correct, shooting my sister an unimpressed glare for getting her boyfriend to do her dirty work.

“He’s…fine.”

Pip starts coughing because humans are not designed to stuff their faces with hot dogs like that. Clancy gives him a few hearty claps between his shoulder blades.

“Fine, my ass,”

Pip says when he recovers, reaching for a glass of water.

“You going to tell them what almost happened in Clancy’s living room a few days ago?”

“No. And now I regret telling you.”

Sibella grins with amusement.

“Aw, how cute. Little Jaxi has a boyfriend.”

“I do not,”

I snap.

“And stop calling me that. You know that’s one of my least favorite nicknames.”

“One of?”

Pip’s eyes light up.

“There are more?”

Verity cackles evilly.

“Oh, there are.”

As my sisters gleefully bombard Pip with all the awful nicknames they’ve come up with for me over the years, I block them out and cast my mind back to that moment with Maverick several days ago, where we almost kissed.

In a way, I’m glad Clancy interrupted us. I didn’t miss the way Maverick’s eyes lit up when I told him I needed to keep boundaries in place around him. And that’s not fair to him. I may have foul moods and not be the world’s cheeriest guy, but I’m never downright mean or cruel. I don’t want to give Maverick false hope that there could be something between us.

Because there can’t be.

So I guess it’s good that we didn’t kiss because at least we don’t know what we’re missing.

I have to focus on myself, my health, and on telling my family about what’s going on with me. And right now, I just want to relax and try to enjoy the last few peaceful, normal moments we have left before I detonate that massive bomb.

Try as I might, I just can’t seem to settle, the knot in my stomach only growing stronger. I thought it would be better to tell everyone after we’d eaten since I didn’t want to do it on an empty stomach, but I’ve barely touched my food.

Teasing me might be Sib and Verity’s favorite pastime, but I love them both so much. I don’t remember a lot about the time Dad died or Mom leaving a few months later, but things got really messed up. I was too young to be privy to all the details of what was going on, but I caught the gist of it. Bottom line, Dad was gone forever. And so was Mom. All I had left were my sisters and Clancy, who took us into his home and raised us like we were his own kids.

“All right. Does anyone want seconds?”

Clancy claps his hands together.

“Or, in Pip’s case, fourths? There’s still plenty of food lef?—”

He’s cut off by a loud knock at the door.

“I’ll get it. You expecting anyone?”

I ask Clancy as I step past him.

“No. We’re all here.”

I make my way inside and swing open the front door, blinking rapidly a few times.

“Maverick. What are you doing here?”

In a short-sleeved, red-and-white striped polo and dark-wash jeans, he looks both casual and stylish at the same time. His chestnut hair is swept back from his forehead, artfully tousled, and his ocean-blue eyes settle on me with quiet concern.

“I just wanted to bring you this,” he says.

I hadn’t even noticed the glossy-white ceramic tureen he’s holding.

“What’s that?”

“I made some chicken soup for you and Clancy yesterday. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

He nods toward the three cars lined up in the driveway.

“You’re not interrupting at all,”

Clancy says, greeting him with a warm smile.

“And how considerate of you. Right, Jackson?”

The old guy elbows me. I frown at him before shifting my gaze back to Maverick.

“Yeah. Very considerate,”

I say slowly.

Don’t get me wrong, it is genuinely a lovely, thoughtful gesture. It’s just that the timing couldn’t be worse. I’m in getting ready to deliver some bad news to my family mode, so Maverick showing up like this is really messing with me.

Maverick hands Clancy the container and asks.

“How are you feeling?”

“I went through a rough patch these past few days, but thankfully, I had this one here to help me get through all the, you know…”

“Yeah. I know,”

Maverick says, his eyes flicking to me briefly, and I can tell he needs the visual reminder of what he endured with me like a kick to the balls.

“But I’m much better now. Thank you.”

Clancy elbows me again, and I scowl at him.

“Ow. Why do you keep doing that?”

“Because it’s more socially acceptable than smacking you across the back of your head. Manners, boy.”

I grit my teeth and mutter.

“Thank you, Maverick.”

Maverick grins boyishly, which only unsettles me even more because I don’t want to be noticing how cute he’s looking right now. It’s bad enough he’s being nice. And Jesus, he has dimples. How did I not notice that before?

“There’s a note,”

he says, pointing to the side of the container.

“A note?”

I peel off the yellow Post-it and read it aloud.

“I heped to.”

“He meant to write helped,”

Maverick supplies.

Clancy looks confused, so I explain.

“Maverick has the cutest four-year-old nephew in the world.”

“Oh, you mean Sammy?”

he says, and I bristle, forgetting these two have hung out a few times. Not that it bothers me.

Okay, maybe it bothers me a little.

Maverick is slowly worming his way into my life, and I don’t know how to feel about that. And when I don’t know how to feel about something, I usually default to my go-to emotion—anger.

“I’ve been instructed to mention Sammy did all the vegetable washing, and his stirring was a lot better than mine,”

Maverick says, still smiling, still way too cute for his own good.

Picturing him and Sammy working together on making us soup softens me.

A little.

“Please tell him a big thank you from both of us,”

I say.

“And be sure to mention that I agree with him and am one hundred percent sure his stirring was better than yours.”

Maverick grins, nodding.

“I will. It’ll make his day. Anyway, I’ll leave you guys to it. Happy Fourth of July.”

“Stay.”

Maverick and I snap our necks to Clancy.

“We have more than enough food, and I’d love for you to meet my granddaughters and their partners.”

It’s impossible for me to glare at Clancy without Maverick noticing since he’s standing right in front of us, so I start expelling heavy, growly breaths instead. Subtle, I know.

Maverick notices.

“Thank you, Clancy. But I really don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not,”

Clancy says firmly as I feel his elbow getting into position by the side of my body.

“Unless you have somewhere else to be?”

“Uh, well, no. Wagner took Sammy to the parade in town, and my best friend lives in Everleigh and is spending the day with his boyfriend?—”

“Then I insist you join us.”

Maverick looks at me helplessly, but what can I do? I can’t outright say, No, don’t come in, and I’m sure the last thing he wants to do is be rude to Clancy, so I cave and give him a small nod.

He aims an apologetic smile at me, then looks at Clancy and nods.

“Sure. I’d love to.”

“Great. I’ll put the soup away. Jackson, introduce Maverick to everyone, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

Clancy skips away, brimming with more energy than he’s had in days.

“I’m really sorry,”

Maverick whispers the second we’re alone.

“I didn’t mean to intrude.”

I sag against the doorframe.

“I know you didn’t.”

He looks at me for a beat.

“And how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re both on the mend.”

I frown at him, confused by the tangled mess of gratitude, annoyance, and nerves churning inside me. He’s making it awfully hard for me to stick to my carefully constructed boundaries, which pisses me off.

I clear my throat.

“Thank you. For the food. And for…caring.”

Maverick nods solemnly.

“And thank you for saying that. I know how hard that must have been for you.”

“Fuck off.”

He grins like he just won a prize and swipes imaginary sweat off his brow with two fingers.

“Phew. There you are. For a second there, I was worried the food poisoning had knocked the bite out of you.”

“You were?”

He nods.

“Yeah. I’ve missed you avoiding me around the center these past few days.”

My frown deepens.

“Please stop being so…”

Funny? Caring? Sweet? I can’t say any of that, so I change topics.

“I have to warn you about my family.”

“Why? Surely they can’t be worse than you.”

His grin grows into a smile. A very sexy, very alluring, dimple-filled smile. But that’s completely beside the point.

“Just be prepared for anything. Okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Jackson. Trust me. I know a thing or two about handling crazy families.”