The middle picture was of Marlena and Mason, I had seen the same picture on the desk in Frank’s office.
The last picture took me by surprise.
It was me.
I was sitting on the worn leather couch of the apartment, holding a very new born Georgia. I was smiling, but you could see the genuine fear in my eyes. Frank had taken the picture with my camera on the day I brought Georgia home from the hospital. I had it printed and hung it on the refrigerator of the apartment. I had no clue Frank had a copy, or how he went about getting it. It told me all I needed to know about how important we’d been to him.
I hoped he died knowing how important he was to us.
Frank had all three pictures tucked in his suit jacket when he was buried, along with a picture Georgia drew for him. I made sure of it.
I turned on the small radio I kept on the patio to my favorite country station, keeping the volume low so I wouldn’t wake Georgia. I collapsed onto one of my new-old chairs and packed a bowl. I sat back, lit it up, and inhaled the smoke, savoring the familiar heat in my lungs. I held it inside as long as I could before exhaling it through both my nose and mouth.
I enjoyed my high, and allowed my mind to drift to the one person I tried so hard not to think about. I traced the design of the metal pendant around my neck. I’d never been able to bring myself to take the damn thing off.
I couldn’t help but think about how great a father Jake would have been to Georgia. If he’d stayed that day, I doubt I’d have decided to keep her after all. The thought caused my heart to seize in my chest. I was definitely not going to let myself go there. Georgia was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I refused to think about a world without her in it.
I was lifted out of the comfort of my high by the sound of heavy steps in the grass beside the house. The small patio light only lit the immediate space I occupied, but it cast shadows over everything else.
“Who’s there?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew the answer.
He stood as still as stone, just a few steps from the patio. I heard the familiar sound of his Zippo lighter and saw the red glow from the end of his cigarette. I was frozen in my chair. I opened my mouth to speak and nothing came out.
“Hey,” he said. His familiar voice washing over me like comfort I hadn’t known since he left.
I breathed deeply and gathered enough brain power to speak. “Hey,” I responded, trying my best to keep my voice level. “You don’t have to creep up on me in the dark, you know. You could get yourself hurt.” I mustered as much false confidence as I could, but inside I was shaking like a paint mixer.
Jake stepped out of the dark shadows and into the light. The picture above Georgia’s wall was nothing compared to the real thing. He was still dressed all in black, but the muscles beneath his tight t-shirt were larger than I remembered. They strained against the thin material. “Oh yeah?” he asked. “How you gonna hurt me?”
He flinched when he realized what he’d said. I pretended not to notice.
“With this,” I said as I pulled my .22 from my beach bag.
“Wow. You’re packing now?” He looked amused. “Let me see that thing.” I handed it over to him, and he inspected it carefully, turning it over in his hand. “Nice. You do know you shouldn’t hand your pistol over to someone just because they ask, right? You could be the one who gets hurt.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, using his words. “How you gonna hurt me?”
He laughed.
His hair was longer than it had been when he left. His face was harder and looked older than four years should have made it. But his eyes were as blue and amazing as ever. I had to squeeze my legs together to rid myself of the tingle that was happening all over me. “Maybe handing over my gun is part of my whole plan of defense. I just give it to people and ask them to hold it for me. It distracts them while I run away.”
For the first time in over four years, the smile I’d been seeing in my dreams was now right in front of me.
I almost fell over.
I was seventeen all over again.
“I would probably come up with a plan B if I were you,” he said, pushing his hair behind his ear.
I liked the longer hair. It was hot... and I was getting hot. Too hot. I took off my hoodie and threw it on the chair next to me. The night breeze kissed my skin, and I sighed in relief. “That’s better,” I muttered.
“Bee!” Jake exclaimed. His eyes went wide.
My heart fluttered when I heard him say my nickname again.
“What?” I asked, hoping I hadn’t dropped my pipe.