Jamie
Jamie was half-afraid Trevor would suggest he do a similar deal with Jo instead, caught up in the good humor enough to make that kind of a joke, but Trevor just laughed and nodded and made negotiations. It was hard to tell where people drew the line on that kind of thing, and if that was true when he thought about his friends, it was definitely true for Jo.
This wasn’t a date. If anything, it was a group date, but it really wasn’t even that. The way they were sitting meant she wasn’t looking at him most of the time, which was probably a good thing, even if it meant he could spend a lot of time looking at her.
When she was thinking, she’d bite her lip, which made him want to soothe her to stop the abuse, or run her thumbnail over it, like maybe she used to bite the nail instead. When he grabbed her bag he saw she had one of those keychain things attached to a zipper that held a tube of ChapStick, but maybe she needed to step that up a notch and get something medicated. And since when did he care if someone’s lips were dry?
Jamie was first out of the game, which was about par for the course. He got up to get a drink of water, but even that was too close to the light and the laughter, and really he just needed a moment to breathe. Nobody was paying attention to him, anyway, so he went on back through the living room and out the sliding door. The blast chiller was in the garage, and it was about time to check on the pork and move it to the fridge instead.
It would be annoying, maybe, if he honestly had anything better to do, but Jamie even had limits for his friends. They were used to him stepping out for a minute and, unlike Mom, let him without even questioning him for an excuse. Low social battery meant something to that group, and yeah, okay, part of it was probably how he was a singleton among pairs, but sometimes he just had to breathe in the silence and let all the words drain out of his ears.
All this was habit now, the end of a lot of trial and error. His goal was consistency so that people knew what they were getting, whether it was at the Rusty Barrel or in his own food truck. The menu there was small, mostly sandwiches with sides, and customers chose and added their own sauces so the meat itself had a chance to shine. Some people—okay, Mom—thought it was overly simplistic and nothing to be impressed with, even if Chase knew better. Maybe Ricky didn’t entirely take it seriously, or even as seriously as he was capable of taking things, but Chase treated Jamie’s pork with quiet respect.
The fact that he was out here in the garage instead of somewhere in the house spoke volumes. The food truck was a sort of peace offering from Allan and Shane when Jamie had to quit his job and move back home with Mom, almost a joke because hey, his room and board was being paid for, so he didn’t really need much more than a hobby. In Chicago, smoking had been a hobby. He didn’t keep journals or do it more than once a month, and then just enough for his friends. Smoking had once been a hobby, yes, and that was Jamie’s Food Truck in white Comic Sans on the side because Comic Sans was the biggest typography joke, but his business was serious.
Usually he liked having this sort of solitude with the known, practiced movements, but right now that just left too much space. Was Jo actually having fun? She wasn’t competing with Ricky, exactly, because that was a losing game, but she seemed to be matching him pretty well. She was paying attention, too, asking questions and quick with her repartee, but did that mean she was enjoying herself? Would she want to come back?
He wanted her to come back. That was strange and scary and something he didn’t even really want to admit to himself, thank you very much. Wanting something meant that you set yourself up for disappointment.
Telling Jo he’d like to see her again meant she could turn him down.
Jamie got the pork moved and made sure the garage locked behind him before he headed back to the house. He blinked when he saw Jo in the kitchen, and blinked again when she smiled and set down her cup and came out to join him. There was only a thin slice of kitchen visible from the entryway, but she’d picked it. “I’m out,” she announced, kneeling down by his feet because wait, she’d brought her backpack back out here again. “I wanted to give this to you before I forgot.”
He accepted the stack of papers and tried not to think about how she was kneeling right next to him. Normally other people were just there, maybe in his space, but it wasn’t quite so … obvious. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, well.” She zipped up the bag and stood in the sort of fluid motion that made it clear her knees weren’t nearly as old as his. “I’m probably just grasping at straws.”
Jamie had the stack sort of propped on his hip because there wasn’t room between them for it. Jo was that close. “I’ll take a look. Um.” If it was for her, then she’d have a harder time saying no, right? “Tomorrow I’ve got the opening day of the farmer’s market, but I don’t have anything Sunday. Mom, uh …” Great. “She goes to church and then usually has brunch or something after, so if you came over around 9:30 we’d have a good few hours.” What, to sneak around? Like they were teenagers?
Her lips quivered as she fought a smile. “Early enough that I’d be allowed to eat breakfast?”
“Hey, I like breakfast for dinner,” he protested, trying not to shift his weight. He wasn’t sure if he’d go backward or forward, and the thought of finding out made his heart race. “I’d say we could go out and get some, but maybe you don’t want to talk about that in public.” Or be seen with him in public.
Jo tilted her head. “Is Babycakes open on Sundays? I went there this morning.”
“Yeah, eight I think?” He shrugged like she didn’t have him mesmerized. “You could pick something up on your way. Uh.” Jamie shook his head a little. “If it is on your way?”
“Oh, Jo lives with Brent,” Mitch informed him, and now the entryway really felt crowded.
When Jo took a step back, though, it was to open up the conversational triangle, but she didn’t actually move any further away from Jamie. Mitch was the most distant point.
Wait, what?
“Yeah, he said Brent was like the same class as your older brother?” Jo shrugged. “My mom and Amanda went to college together.”
Okay, but Amanda was a lot younger than Brent. Amanda was closer to Jamie’s age, and if Jo was thirty-four …
The math didn’t work. That made Jo’s mom, what, fifteen when she was born?
“Small world, right?” Mitch asked with a grin. “Jo, do you want to stick around and play something else while we wait for monopoly to be over?”
“Uh.” She looked around and took Jamie’s hand enough to check his watch, just this casual skin on skin touch that made him stop breathing. “I’ve had a long day, so I think I’m going to go. Text me about Sunday?”
Jamie blinked and had to tell himself she was talking to him. “Yeah, absolutely.”
“And we’ll see you again next Friday,” Mitch added with complete and utter certainty.
Jo grinned. “Sounds good. Okay.” Smoothly again, she bent to pick up her backpack and slipped her feet into her shoes when she straightened. “Goodnight, Jamie.”
He didn’t imagine that part. Before she left, she said goodnight just to him.
Chapter Eleven – coming October 11
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