Unsuitable
Page 25

Walking up the steps to the front door, my legs are trembling. I take a deep breath and lift a shaking hand to ring the doorbell.
I wait, my leg jigging on the spot.
Through the frosted glass, I see someone approaching the door. Then, the door opens, revealing a man with light-brown hair, who looks to be in his early thirties.
“Hi, I’m Daisy Smith, Jesse’s sister. I was told to ask for Tim Marshall.”
“I’m Tim.” He smiles. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Daisy. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
He has?
That must mean that Jesse has talked about me.
It’s just what I needed to ease my nerves and lift my spirits a little.
“Come in,” he tells me.
I step inside. Tim closes the door behind me.
It’s quiet in the house, and I wonder where the rest of the boys who live here are.
As if reading my mind, Tim says, “The house is empty—aside from Jesse, of course. The boys have gone out for ice cream with Jenna, who works here with me,” he explains. “We thought it’d be nice to give you and Jesse some space.”
“Thank you.” I smile, but it feels awkward and clumsy on my lips. My hands are shaking. My head feels like it’s about to explode. I bind my hands together in front of me, trying to ease the trembling.
“Jesse’s just in the living room.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“You can breathe.” He gives me a gentle smile.
I laugh softly, exhaling.
“I know how nervous you must be feeling right now. But, trust me when I say, it’s going to be okay. Jesse will never admit this, but he’s just as nervous to see you.”
“He is?” I hate to think that Jesse is feeling nervous, but knowing that I’m not alone in this and that he does actually want to see me helps.
“Don’t tell him I told you this, but he was up at six thirty this morning. He showered and is wearing his nicest clothes. For a kid who I have to put a bomb under to get him out of bed for school every morning and practically hose him down in the garden to get him to wash…well, it says a lot.”
“Yeah.” I smile, but his words also hit me. Telling me just how much Jesse has changed.
The Jesse I knew was always up and out of bed early. And he loved taking baths.
I’ve missed so many changes in his life.
Tim walks down the short hallway. Stopping at a door, he opens it. “Jesse…Daisy’s here.”
I follow inside behind Tim.
And there he is, the sole reason I get out of bed every morning.
Love floods me. Tears prick my eyes. I feel like I’ve been smothered in happiness and punched in the chest with a fistful of pain, all at the same time.
The boy I knew looks like a young man. Even sitting, I can see how tall he is. His legs are so long. And he looks so much like Dad. He must have grown about two feet in the last eighteen months.
His hair is different. He always liked to wear his hair short. But, now, his dark brown hair is all grown out, curling around his ears. His jeans are black with a chain fixed on the pocket, linking to his belt that has a skull on the front of it. His T-shirt is black with a band on the front that I’m not familiar with. He looks a world away from the boy I left.
And the way he’s looking at me…
It’s the exact same way he looked at me the last time I saw him.
Hurt mixed with disappointment. And loss. So much loss.
Pain curls like a fist around my heart and squeezes tight.
Jesse sits forward in his seat, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Hi,” I say softly, my voice not offering much.
He stares blankly at me.
“Why don’t you sit down? I’ll make us a drink. Tea or coffee? Or something cold?” Tim asks me.
Taking a seat across from Jesse, I answer Tim, “Coffee would be great. Thanks.”
“Jesse?” Tim asks.
Jesse doesn’t answer. He just shakes his head.
“Right. Well, I won’t be long.”
I watch Tim leave the room.
When I look back, Jesse is still staring at me.
The tension in the air is unnerving.
It makes me sick to my stomach to know the size of the wedge between us.
This is a kid who would talk nonstop to me. A kid who I could sit in perfect silence with and always feel at ease.
Now, it’s almost like sitting with a stranger.
But a stranger I love very much.
My mouth is dry, so I lick my lips before speaking, “You look…so grown-up.”
I watch as his eyes shut down. Shutting me out.
He’s looking at me like Kas looks at me.
Like he hates me.
Pain spikes me in the gut.
“Yeah, well, it’s been eighteen months. I’m not just gonna stop growing ’cause you haven’t been around.”
“I know. I’m sorry—”
“Save it ’cause I don’t want to hear it.” He turns his face away, looking in the direction of the TV. Leaning back, he stretches his long legs out, folding his arms over his chest.
I fight back the tears burning my eyes and take a deep breath. “So…how have you been?” I ask.
He sighs and drags his eyes from the TV and back to me. “You want to make small talk, Daisy? Really?”
Daisy. He always called me Mayday.
Another spike of pain hits me—this time, in the chest. I rub at the ache. “I just want to talk to you, Jesse.”
“Okay, let’s talk.” He swivels around in his seat, hands pressed to his thighs. He looks like he’s roaring for a fight. “How was your time in prison? You learn any new tricks? How long you staying around for? Or should I expect another visit from the cops sometime soon, telling me that you’re going back inside?”