All Who Dream (Letting Go) (23 page)

I quirked an eyebrow.
“How so?”

“I’m
thinking butterflies—lots and lots of butterflies.”

I gasped.
“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Several hours later, I finished book one. Reading
was a good distraction while still at Jacob’s house.
And the
cliffhanger?
Horrible! How did people read these types of books before
the series was completed? I’d go insane. I was already planning out my next
pocket of time to read. These books were a peephole into Jackson’s soul.

Every
girlfriend should be so lucky.

Girlfriend?
 
Is
that what I was?

We hadn’t
discussed titles. We had hardly discussed anything. I for one wasn’t going to
bring it up. If Jackson wanted to label us as an item, he would have to be the
first one to say it. I was old fashioned that way I guessed. At twenty-nine, I
was hardly naive, but I certainly wasn’t forceful or pushy. I could be patient.

Love was
worth patience.

My
stomach rolled at the thought.
How had
four
week’s time
changed me so much?

“Hey, I
think Caleb and I are going to head out. I feel like I’ve hardly seen you since
I got here,”
Pippy
said, pulling up a chair beside
me.

I
immediately felt guilty. I’d been avoiding her since this morning. Seeing her
pretty, happy face was a reminder of my morning’s undercover work outside the
library door.

“I know,
sorry. I’ve been sucked into these novels. Your dad recommended them,” I said.

Pippy
laughed, her eyes lighting up, baiting me to tell her
that I
knew
.

“Yes, I
know. He told me,” I said.

She threw
her arms around me, “I knew he would! I just knew it! That means something you
know—he never talks about his past, or his books, or-” she stopped, her face
flushing pink.

“I know.
We had some good conversations this weekend.”

She
squealed. “What if we’re related
someday!
Oh,
my gosh
!”

My eyes
grew huge. “
Pippy
! Please—
shhh
!”

“I’ve
never had a sister, but of course, you really wouldn’t be my sister…you’d be
like…what?
My aunt?
Hmm...that’s
kind of weird, but still we could act like sisters-”

If only
she had an inside voice. I was dying—my armpits sweating at her family tree
quandaries.

“
Pippy
, I promise you—
if
and when that day comes, you will be first in line. Until then, please do not
talk like that. I don’t even know what’s going on with us yet,” I said, quietly.

She
nodded, her grin stretching wider by the second.

She
hugged me again, and my heart went to mush, my mind again to Jacob. She pulled
back from my arms, about to leave.

“
Pippy
?”

“Yeah?”
Her face was full of vibrant wonder.

“Are…are
you okay?”

“Yes,” she
laughed. “Why?”

“I just…I
wanted to make sure. If you ever want to talk…about anything, I’m here for you.
I hope you know that.”

She
nodded. “See? You’ll be a great big sister-type. That’s exactly what one would
say.”

I chuckled
and shook my head. “Okay. Well, I mean it.”

“Thanks.
It was a great weekend, I was so glad Caleb was able to meet my folks. I think
they both really liked him.”

I nodded,
my words caught somewhere inside.

Would Jacob be alive to see his daughter get
married one day?

“It was a
great weekend,” I said. “And yes, he is a very nice guy,
Pippy
.”

After she
walked away, I felt my body relax slightly.

I had so
many questions.

Too bad
eavesdroppers didn’t get rewarded with answers. I slumped back hard in my
chair. I would suck at being a detective.

In the Land of Certain, options are slim,
outcomes are planned, and pathways are marked

Nothing is original

In the Land of Certain, everything is
placed, everything is timed, and everything is controlled

Nothing is impulsive

In the Land of Certain, faith is needless,
courage is useless, and trust is expected

Nothing is absent

In the Land of Certain, emotions are
balanced, expressions are stoic, and thoughts are passive

Nothing is passionate

In the Land of Certain, you are nameless,
you are unknown, and you are pretend

Nothing is real

For the only truth that lives in
Certain
, is the façade of its own deception

I walked out onto the front porch, as Jacob,
Jessie, Peter and Dee stood around Jackson’s car. The sight of such
togetherness immediately overwhelmed me. My experience with a family this size
was nonexistent, but my desire to be near it was powerful nonetheless. My chest
ached as I watched them, smiling and talking as if their world wasn’t breaking.

As if
their loved one wasn’t dying.

I glanced
at Jacob, a wave a shame sloshing inside my belly. Helpless as I was in this
situation, there was no excuse for my avoidance of him. He was a good man, one
that had so obviously enriched and influenced many of the people I’d come to
care about. I was a coward to hide from him—no matter how uncomfortable I was.

The truth
was like an itchy blanket, trapping me beneath its rough fibers. My skin
screamed at me, desiring nothing more than its removal. Yet the blanket stayed,
indignant at my protests for relief.

Jackson
opened my door and walked around to his side of the car where his mother pulled
him into an embrace that caused something inside me to shift—to yearn. A warm
surge of envious-want coursed through me. I’d never known a mother’s love or
affection. There were years that I’d gone without a well-meaning,
well-intentioned touch. Years that were lost to the shadows of my past, but
standing here, watching this, was a reminder that touch had a distinct purpose:
love
.

“You’re
good for him, Angie. Don’t give up.” The whisper was low, yet the tender voice
that spoke was unmistakable.

Jacob was
at my side, smiling. His eyes held the same child-like wonder I’d seen
countless times in
Pippy
, the same hope and life. He
nodded at Jackson and winked at me. A rush of heat stung my cheeks as he pulled
me into an embrace. My throat swelled as I racked my brain for words to follow
such a statement. In the end though, I simply said goodbye, forcing a smile on
my lips as he closed my car door.

I fought
the tears that threatened to pool in my eyes and refused to blink as I looked
out the window at Jackson’s family.

I hated
time
in that moment. The certainty of
what it brought, the injustice of
who
and
how
it
robbed from us.

A
rebellious tear slid down my face as Jackson started the engine.

Life was
so uncertain.

By the time we pulled up to my apartment building, my
mind was like an overstuffed suitcase. No matter what tactic I tried, I
couldn’t get the darn thing to close.

There was
virtually no line of thinking I could venture down without an overwhelming
feeling of anxiousness taking over. Between the fallout from the interview with
Divina
, my upcoming meeting with Dee, Jacob’s failing
health, Cody’s approaching trip home, and the new developments with Jackson and
I…the list of unknowns was growing by the second.

Twice,
Jackson had brushed my hand with his while we drove, asking more with his eyes
than he did with his mouth. Twice, I had simply smiled in reply.

“I’ll
walk you up,” Jackson said, grabbing our bags from the trunk.

“Thanks,”
I said, following him inside the elevator. Cody already had our key in his
hand, anxious to get inside our room. He’d had to use the restroom for the last
half-hour. As soon as the doors opened, he was off, running down the hallway to
our door. Jackson laughed.

“If I
knew he had to go that bad, I would have stopped.”

“Oh, he’s
fine.”

“But are
you?” Jackson asked, dropping the bags at the doorway, a concerned look on his
face.

My guilty
conscious tugged at me. Who was I to be the cause of his concern, not when his
only brother was home facing incurable cancer? The fact that Jackson didn’t
know I
knew
that information was the
cherry on top of my guilt-sundae.

“It’s
gonna
work out, Angie.”

I
swallowed hard. I didn’t know which of the many things he was referencing, but
I knew his statement couldn’t pertain to that one.
 

Jackson
touched my chin and lifted my eyes to his. “Hey, what is it? Are you not
feeling well?” He touched the back of his hand to my cheek, as if to check my temperature,
a gesture that caused me to feel feverish in and of
itself
.

“No, I’m
not sick. I’m just worried. I heard something this morning and I probably
should have told you sooner, but-”

Jackson
blew out a hard breath and pulled on his neck, causing me to stop short.

“I told
Pippy
not to tell you. We’re going to deal with it, Angie.
I promise. I just need you to be open when we meet on Tuesday morning with my
mother.”

A cold
chill seemed to settle inside every cell of my body.

“What
exactly was
Pippy
not supposed to tell me?”

Now it
was his turn to look surprised, although not for long. His features shadowed
over again, leaving his standard unruffled expression behind a second later.

“You
weren’t talking about your blog?” he asked.

“No, what
are you talking about Jackson?”

He reached
for my hands then, holding them together as he wrapped his fingers around them.

“I need
you to promise me something, right here, right now.”

I raised
my eyes to his, his stare as intense as his words.

“What?” I
asked.

“Do not
go on your blog site, or anything having to do with your publication—not until
we set our next course of action.”

The chill
was back, trying to win over the warmth of Jackson’s hands on mine.

“You’re
scaring me…why not?”

He took a
deep breath. “I’m not trying to scare you, Angie. I’m trying to protect you.
Trust me, please. Just stay off your computer for now—whatever damage
Divina
has caused, it’s not an accurate representation of
who you are. Reading reviews and commentaries based off fallacies will only
work against you. Promise me, okay?”

I closed
my eyes and took a deep breath. It was true then.
Divina’s
hard punches had brought destruction—to my name and reputation no less. Her
crushing blow wasn’t just outing me to the world as a domestic violence victim,
but framing me as a deceiver.

I nodded
at him reluctantly.

Jackson
pulled me into his arms as I let my body melt into him. “So, it’s bad then,
isn’t it? People believe her over me—that I’m a coward?”

He
crushed me to him even tighter. “If I ever hear anyone call you a coward, they
will live to regret their words.”

I heard
the elevator ding and a rustling in the hallway as I lifted my head up slowly
from Jackson’s shoulder. Staring into his eyes I knew he meant it. He didn’t
see me as weak—and in my book that was about the best compliment I could ever
receive. As he lowered his mouth to mine, I heard a gasp followed by two loud
thumps.

Everything
moved in slow motion when I turned my head in the direction of the sound behind
me.

I began
to blink rapidly as if that action alone could help my eyes explain to my brain
what they were seeing. They couldn’t.

“What’s
going on here, Angie?”

My brother stared at me like
I’d just morphed into a bright blue alien right before his eyes.

Charlie
smacked him hard in the chest, hissing,
“Don’t
be rude.”

“
Rude
? Are we not seeing the same thing
here, babe? Because it looks to me like some guy my sister couldn’t have known
for more than two minutes was about to-”

“Briggs!
Stop—I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you guys until tomorrow,” I said, my heart racing
a thousand beats per second.

Charlie
smiled then, walked over to me, and threw her arms around my neck. In that
moment I realized Jackson’s arm was still tight around my waist. Apparently, he
wasn’t nearly as bothered by the interruption as I was.

Charlie
beamed. “Introduce us to your friend, Ang.”

Jackson
took a step toward her, hand outstretched like a gentleman.

“This is
Jackson Ross. He’s my—he’s the CEO of Pinkerton Press.”

Jackson
raised his eyebrows at me slightly, nodded politely. I was so overly aware of
each eye on me in that moment that I suddenly wished the hallway was made of
quicksand.

Charlie
reached back and grabbed Briggs’ hand and pulled him closer toward us.

“Jackson
this is Briggs, my brother,” I said. “Briggs this is-”

Jackson reached
his hand out to him then, lip curled in a smirk.

“Just
call me
some guy
.”

The fact that Briggs and Charlie had caught an early flight to
surprise Cody and I should have been the focal point of the evening.
Ironically
though, the surprise had been a little bigger than they had anticipated.
SURPRISE!