Page 45 of Mr. Brightside
His smile falters. He side-eyes me sheepishly, almost as if he’s been caught. “I was just thinking about my girls.”
“I have to admit, meeting them shocked the shit out of me. I didn’t think you had any family in the area.”
He tilts his head toward me, not speaking right away. I’m learning that when Jake’s quiet, waiting him out is imperative. He’s usually so quick and conversational. Any pause from him is intentional.
“My mom died before I turned three, when my little brother Joey was born. My dad died when I was twenty. My older brother Julian is the girls’ dad, and his wife’s name is Ashleigh. I honestly only see my brothers once or twice a year, and those are usually chance encounters around town or at events I can’t avoid.”
“If you only see your brothers a few times a year, how are you so close with your nieces?”
Jake shifts back in his seat and fiddles with his wedding ring. Watching him run his fingers back and forth along the polished metal does something to my insides. The sensual way he fingers the platinum band has me wishing his hand was on me instead.
When he finally answers, his voice is low, almost shaky. I’m surprised by his tone. The man’s unflappable. I can’t imagine what he’s nervous about.
“Julian and Ashleigh got married during my senior year of high school—he’s ten years older than me,” he explains. “I was at their wedding, but then I didn’t see them again until my dad’s funeral two years later. After that, we didn’t talk for years. One day, I’m in the Acme parking lot because Rhett was home from school for the weekend and had picked up a few shifts at Clinton’s.”
“So he could be with Tori,” I interject with a knowing glance.
Jake smirks and nods. “Mm-hmm. Funny. She was the only one who didn’t have his number figured out back then. Anyway, you know how the place gets when the regulars know Rhett’s in town.”
He twists the ring on his finger a few times before he continues.
“So it’s a Sunday morning, and Mike sends me over to Acme to pick up extra celery for Bottomless Bloody Marys. As I’m getting back in my Jeep, I notice this woman a few spots down from me. She’s got a screaming baby in one arm, and she’s trying to wrangle a feral toddler into a car seat. A whole bunch of produce had rolled out of one of the bags she set on the ground, and it was about to become fruit salad if someone didn’t help her.”
My heart folds in on itself as I listen to what it’s like to live in the World According to Jake. This man walks around with the purest intentions, always looking to be a helper.
“I rushed over to save a cantaloupe and to see if I could help. When the lady turns around, I realize it’s Ashleigh. It’s my own sister-in-law. With my nieces I didn’t know existed.”
He shakes his head and plants his elbows on his knees. I can feel the anger radiating off him.
“As soon as she saw me, she burst into tears,” he grits out through his teeth. “Julian travels for work a lot, and he’d been out of town for something like three or four weeks that time. She hadn’t talked to another grown up in days.”
He shakes his head again, still agitated, but more resolved.
“The whole thing rubbed me the wrong way. I couldn’t stand to see her like that. It killed me to realize I didn’t know my nieces. So I asked Ashleigh if I could come over sometime when Julian was out of town. To this day, I’m surprised she let me. And really, I think the timing was kismet; she was burned out and lonely… just desperate enough to say yes.”
Jake leans back in the vinyl chair again, hands on his thighs and a half smile on his face.
“I went back to their house—to the house I grew up in—for the first time in years because of those little girls. They stole my heart immediately. They’re the brightest parts of my life.”
“Now that they’re older, Ashleigh lets me take them on adventures around town. We go to the park and the splash pad. I spoil them rotten with cake pops and ice cream and all the fries and tots they want at Clinton’s. I love spending time with them, honestly. And it gives Ashleigh a much-needed break since my brother’s too busy to spend time with his family.”
I smile serenely as I absorb the weight of his confession. He’s always been a jokester with boundless energy. He’s always been a helper, too. It’s sweet the way their family came back together because of the girls.
“What does Julian think about all this?” I ask.
Jake chuckles. “Julian doesn’t know.”
“Wait, what? What do you mean he doesn’t know?”
He shrugs. “He’s literally never home. And when he is, I get the impression that he doesn’t talk to the girls or engage with them in any meaningful way. He doesn’t read to them. He doesn’t play. Mimi calls him ‘father,’ for crying out loud, like she’s one of the kids from Peter Pan.”
“So let me get this straight,” I push. “You have a relationship with your sister-in-law and you spend time with your nieces on a regular basis, but their father—yourbrother—doesn’t know you know they exist?”
“Yep.” He pops thep, and I read it for what it is: the end of a conversation. We’re done talking about this. Instead of letting things get awkward, I grab his hand and lift his knuckles to my mouth.
Before he can respond, the overhead announcement chimes in to explain boarding procedures. We’re sitting first class; we’ll be first in the lineup, so I double-check my carry-on to make sure I have everything.
“Hey, think we should share the news before we board?”