How to Love

“The Gallagher family was really messy,” Dad announced as he came upstairs later on Monday night after the viewing. “Jake might need a little extra help cleaning.”

“Okay,” I agreed easily. Earlier that day, I had anticipated a few awkward and tense moments with Jake, but he carried on like nothing had happened on Saturday night, and I was extremely grateful for that. He’d just sat down next to me in psych like he normally would, occasionally making comments about how weird the instructor was. He’d even had lunch with me and we talked about Revolutionary Road for a little while, discussing everything from Frank’s affair (“He’s a shitty guy,” Jake had remarked), to the Wheeler’s annoying neighbor, Mrs. Givings. “I’ll go ask him.”

I pushed away from the desk for the first time since that afternoon when the viewing had started. My job was to stay chained to the desk as long as my dad wasn’t around to answer the phones, which often times meant that I wouldn’t leave my desk for hours, not allowing me the luxury of bathroom breaks or snacks. I headed downstairs to see Jake vacuuming in his normal clothes, obviously having changed since the viewing, though I hadn’t heard him come upstairs. He usually said hi to me when he came up or let me know what he was planning to do downstairs, so I was little surprised.

When he noticed me, he turned the vacuum cleaner off. “Need something?”

“No, I was actually just checking to if you needed any help,” I said. I glanced around the chapel, noticing a bunch of flower petals around the stands in the front that Jake hadn’t gotten to yet.

“Well, if you want to straighten the chairs when I’m done sweeping, that would be really helpful,” Jake suggested. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand before continuing. “That takes up the most time, I think, and I’d like to cut out of her around nine. Plus your dad tried to show me how, but I can’t ever get it right.”

“Takes years of practice,” I told him with a small smile. “Matt can’t do it either, so don’t feel bad. Anything else you want help with?”

“Could you maybe do the women’s restroom downstairs?” he asked, wincing a little. “I don’t mind doing it if you don’t want to, but everytime I go in there, I feel like I’m supposed to be. And you were right; it’s usually a lot dirtier than the men’s room.”

I laughed. “I don’t mind. I’ll do that while you finish sweeping.”

“Thanks,” he grinned back. He turned his attention back to the vacuuming and I disappeared downstairs to clean the women’s restroom. It was particularly disgusting tonight, with used toilet paper stuffed behind the toilets. Apparently many of the Gallagher women did not understand the concept of flushing either, one of them leaving behind a horrid mixture of urine, feces, and blood. I flushed that down quickly, desperate to get rid of the smell and even the thought of it. This was definitely going to take a little extra time to clean up. After locating a pair of gloves, I got rid of the used toilet paper and scrubbed behind the toilets and used some disinfectant on the seats and in the bowl. I was getting ready to clean the mirrors when I decided to put out some more paper towels for the next visitation, so I opened up the cabinets beneath the sink and was surprised to find a bottle of tequila stashed there. I shook my head and put it aside on the counter while I finished cleaning and then took it upstairs to throw it out.

As I was coming up to the main floor, I noticed my dad standing there and talking to Jake about something. He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed the tequila bottle in my hand. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“Gotta love the Gallagher women,” I frowned. “You don’t even want to know what that bathroom looked like, by the way.”

“That looks like piss,” Dad stated bluntly, causing Jake to let out a loud laugh. “It’s probably piss.”

“It doesn’t smell like it,” I said, handing the bottle off to Dad. “And it looks too dark to be urine.”

Dad tried to pop the top off of the bottle and ended up spilling some of the liquid on his shirt, making a face of irritation. He smelled it before twisting the cap back on. “It’s tequila.”

“Good,” I said. “At least now you don’t have a piss-stained shirt.”

Dad sniffed at his shirt with an overly dramatic inhale. “I smell like a bar. I’m gonna pour this out and take a shower.” He turned and headed back upstairs without another word to either of us, though he was grumbling about something to himself. The only thing I could make out had to do with why the fuck would you bring tequila to a funeral home?

“I finished with the vacuuming,” Jake said after the accordion doors shut. “I think I got everything, but if you want to check it over, go ahead.”

I shook my head. “I don’t need to. Your vacuuming skills haven’t let me down yet.”

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m the master of the vacuum,” he teased and wheeled the sweeper into the supply closet. “And to think you ever doubted my abilities.” He came back out with the duster and started running it over the tables and organ in the main chapel while I straightened the chairs. We were mostly quiet, but it was a comfortable quiet. Jake was on his last table when he finally spoke up. “So do you like Applebee’s?”

“I don’t know of anyone who doesn’t,” I replied. “Why?”

“I was gonna head over there when we were done cleaning,” he said as nonchalantly as possible. “I was thinking of getting a burger or something. Do you wanna go?”

I hadn’t been to Applebee’s in a few years, so I quickly agreed, probably faster than I should have. “Sure. When do they close?”

“I think midnight,” Jake answered. “So even if we aren’t done by nine, we’d have a lot of time. I just don’t like to be there really late while they’re trying to close. I know how annoying that is.”

I nodded in agreement. Jake put the duster back and then went downstairs to clean up in the luncheon room and men’s room. It was pretty quiet down there, except for hearing him shout, “Jesus, what the fuck?!” once. I contemplated going down and seeing what was wrong, but I was having visions of someone having shat in the urinal or something ridiculous like that. I hated to use the phrase white trash, but that was all that came to mind when I thought of the Gallaghers. I finished up with the chairs a little while later and went upstairs to let my dad know that Jake and I were going to dinner, and his only response was immaturely making kissy faces at me.

Jake was done and ready to go by the time I got downstairs, so we got in his car and headed off to Applebee’s. He had some kind of strange music playing in his car, like a cross between island music, jazz, and rock. He seemed to sense my curiosity at the music selection since he immediately explained. “It’s ska. Big D and the Kids Table. They’re my favorite.” He seemed to rethink his answer quickly. “Although this would technically be stroll, I guess. It’s like a subgenre of ska. It’s a little more easygoing and less energy-charged. A lot more horns, too.” He pointed to the radio again. “This is my favorite song by them.”

“What’s it called?” I asked, a little stunned by the detailed explanation I’d received. With a few exceptions, I didn’t generally know that much about the music I listened to. I liked what I liked, and that was that. I didn’t care to know much more about it.

“The song’s called ‘Been Wishing On,’” he answered. “It’s basically about a girl and a guy who have been friends for a really long time and they’ve seen each other go through different relationships and break ups. Then they realize that they’re in love with each other and can’t imagine being with anyone else.”

“And I called myself sappy,” I joked, though I thought that actually sounded really sweet. Typical and cliché, but sweet.

He seemed to backtrack now. “Well, I like the backing vocals on this song. This whole album, actually. The Doped-Up Dollies give it a cool swing vibe. It’s totally awesome on ‘Not Fuckin’ Around.’”

“And let me guess,” I hedged, “that’s another sappy song.”

“Partially,” he said. “That’s basically him telling whoever he’s with that she doesn’t have to worry about him cheating on her. But the backup singers continuously going, ‘Ooh, not fuckin’ around’ kind of takes away from the romance of it. Although it’s obvious that Frank Wheeler has never heard this song.”

I laughed at the Revolutionary Road reference. “Obviously, since the song didn’t exist yet.” I softened my tone a little. “You seem like you know a lot about music.”

“Not really,” he shrugged, concentrating on the road. “I know a little about a lot of things. If I’m interested in something, I’ll learn about it on my own.”

I nodded and stopped talking so that I didn’t distract him from driving. It was starting to snow pretty hard, so it was getting a little harder to see. Luckily, we weren’t far from Applebee’s by the time it got really bad. We parked and headed in, and I was relieved to be eating somewhere that my most-hated waitress did not work at. They sat us near the bar, which was slightly unfortunate since they were having a karaoke night.

“Shit, if I’d known that there was gonna be karaoke here tonight, I would’ve picked another restaurant,” Jake frowned and shook his head. “They had karaoke every Wednesday night at Jocko’s. It makes you want to stick pencils in your ears.”

“I’d probably just put my head in the fryer,” I joked. “Whoever decided that drunk people and karaoke was a good idea should get slapped.”

“Agreed,” Jake nodded and began studying the menu, so I did as well. I was happy to be out with him again, though I was still a little apprehensive. He’d been normal conversationally, but behavior-wise, he was a little off. Normally he’d have knocked his knee against mine in psych or tried to steal food from me at lunch, but he seemed more reserved and polite today. After a few minutes he asked what I was going to order.

“Probably chicken tenders and fries,” I told him, sticking to my usual out-to-dinner meal. They were generally pretty cheap as well as tasty, so it seemed like a viable option in most situations.

“That’s what I figured,” he said. “I think I’m gonna get this three cheese pasta and chicken thing. They’re both part of that two-for-twenty deal, plus we’d get an appetizer. Do you wanna just do that?”

“We can’t split the check then,” I pointed out.

“I was planning on paying,” he replied. “This is a date, as I recall.”

“And how do you figure that?” I asked, crossing my arms and cocking my head.

“I asked you to dinner,” Jake said simply. “And you said yes. There was no protest or discussion about it not being a date. So I can only assume that this is our first official date.” He closed his menu. “So what appetizer do you want?” And that was that.

We talked a little over our shared appetizer of mozzarella sticks, mostly about the viewing, though he avoided talking about the men’s room at all costs. Finally, he asked after swallowing a mouthful of mozzarella, “So did you ever find a cleaning person?”

I was thankful to be eating with someone who did not talk with their mouth full. “Sort of. My dad asked me to get my cousin Andrea to do it since she needed a job, but I wouldn’t have asked her if he hadn’t told me to.”

“Why?” Jake asked. “Do you have a beef with your cousin or something?”

I mulled this over, trying to think of the proper way to word it so that he would understand. Andrea wasn’t a subject I was comfortable talking to that many people with. Liz was my go-to person when I needed to rant about her, but that was only because she knew Andrea and had witnessed a lot of her idiotic decisions. Still, thinking about Liz, I decided to open up a little. “Yes and no. She used to be my best friend, but a lot of stuff happened between us, especially concerning other people, and we’re just really not very close anymore.”

“What happened?” Jake asked. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I know you’re pretty private.”

I didn’t want to be completely private with Jake anymore. “That’s fine. It’s a couple of different things, really. When I was fifteen, around the time my mom got really sick, Andrea started dating this girl named Lydia, and I was pretty close with both of them. We went out a lot, and we were pretty much inseparable. But then Lydia slowly started to cut Andrea off from her other friends including Liz, and then it was just the three of us all the time. Andrea was spending a lot of money on Lydia too, buying her dinner like every night, and taking her all over the place, and it just got to be ridiculous.”

We paused the conversation momentarily while Jake and I ordered our food, and I felt a little bad that he was buying dinner. Ever since Andrea, I’d had a complex about people buying me dinner (excluding my brothers of course, but we usually bought meals for each other back and forth), which I told Jake about when the waitress left our table. “She used to buy me dinner a lot too. We didn’t have very much money in the house, and everything pretty much was going towards my mom’s medical bills, so we didn’t have a whole lot to eat. So if I wanted dinner, I had to tag along with them. I wasn’t working then except for the occasional babysitting job, and Lydia wasn’t working at all.

“Eventually, I had this huge blowout with Andrea and Lydia because I asked to spend some time with just Andrea,” I continued. “I guess Lydia thought I was going behind her back or something, which is stupid. But we had a huge fight, and Lydia said some bullshit about me calling her a Nazi, which I’ve never called anybody, and Andrea told me I was a mooch, and we didn’t speak again until my mom died and Andrea came to the funeral. She didn’t actually apologize to me until after she and Lydia had broken up, though.”

“How long were they together?” Jake asked. He had his arms on the table, leaning forward. He looked at me like he was really listening, and I could feel my stomach twist a little in appreciation.

“Eight months,” I answered. “January to August. My mom died in June. Lydia broke up with Andrea when Andrea ran out of money, which is what we all tried to tell her would happen. Andrea had over three thousand dollars saved up. She had a little over a hundred dollars when Lydia was done with her. All of Andrea’s friends bailed on her, and she had no real life outside of Lydia, so she really had nothing.”

Jake shook his head. “That’s a shame. When’d you start talking again?”

“Shortly after they broke up,” I said. “I think she knew I missed her, so I’d forgive her a little easier. But I really didn’t appreciate being called a mooch. I’m many things, but that’s not one of them.”

“If you wanna eat, you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do,” Jake shrugged. “She shouldn’t have made you feel bad about it.”

“I agree,” I said. “And it’s not like I never thanked her. I was appreciative. Then when I’d get babysitting money, I’d offer to give her some cash for food or gas or something, but she always said no.”

“Talk about mixed signals,” he scoffed, looking me in the eyes right as he said that. He cleared his throat. “What else?”

“Well, we got pretty close again over the next year, and then her dad passed away,” I continued. “Liz and I were really the only ones there for her. And during that time, she just kept seeking out these people that would take advantage of her to the extreme. Like, ‘drive me to this place that’s super far away, but don’t expect me to give you money for gas,’ or ‘buy me dinner and this other expensive thing.’ It’s ridiculous. The worst was the thing with Robert and Kai.”

“Why do I know those names?” Jake asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

“They go went to Tri-C,” I said. “I think Robert still does. If you ever went out into the smoking section, you’d definitely know them.”

“Occasionally,” Jake said. “Do you know Paul? That Korean guy? He’s funny as hell. I like to go out there and hear him rant about stuff.”

“I do miss hearing Paul rant,” I admitted, feeling a slight, nostalgic smile creep across my face. “There’s a long list of reasons I don’t go out there anymore, though. Anyway, Andrea started dating Kai, but Kai was also dating Robert. So basically she was lying to both of them. I don’t know what she told Robert about Andrea, but she told Andrea that Robert was her mom’s friend and he was supposed to look after her. Kai was a heroin addict, so she played it off like her mom was just worried about her relapsing and that Robert was like her sponsor or something. After about a month, the truth came to light, and then Kai and Andrea broke up, and she was still with Robert. For some reason, Andrea decided to still be friends with Kai.”

I went on to explain the whole situation of Robert and Kai living with us for those two weeks, and then ended with Kai getting carted off to rehab. “It’s one thing for Andrea to let herself get taken advantage of, but it’s totally different for her to let those same people take advantage of us. They didn’t contribute anything to the bills, never bought their own food, and never cleaned up after themselves. And if I go through the trouble of taping six pieces of paper with the word MINE written on it to a carton of ice cream, that definitely means that I don’t want it to be fucking touched. Now what do you think got eaten first?”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Jake scoffed. “Unbelievable. And Andrea’s still friends with them?”

“Both of them,” I confirmed. “She tried to tell me the other day that Kai’s in a halfway house now, but I couldn’t possibly care less. I hope she does okay, but I know the statistics. Heroin’s one of those drugs that you either kick it the first time or you don’t kick it at all. I’m pretty sure this is try number two, so I don’t have high hopes. I don’t wish anything bad on either of them, but I don’t particularly want to be associated with them either.”

“I hear you,” Jake said. “My brother Dave’s a heroin addict. He’s the one that lives in New York.”

“Oh, that’s perfect,” I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Jake said. “He was in rehab last year. I was supposed to go to New York like we were going to hang out for a couple of days, and then I was supposed to drive him to the airport and get on the plane with him to make sure that he went. That was probably the most miserable plane ride of my life. He was coming down, so he was restless and he kept yelling and hitting his head on the ceiling when he’d stand up.”

“Jesus, I can’t imagine that,” I frowned. If I’d had to do that with Kai or anyone really, I’d probably beat them with my carry-on or something. “Is he okay now?”

“I don’t think so,” Jake sighed. “He got out like six months ago, but for the last few weeks, he’s been calling my phone every so often to ask me for money, but he’ll call me like nine times in a row. It’s fucking infuriating. He was doing that shit when I was driving once, and I got so mad that I just threw my phone out the window.”

It was hard for me to picture Jake losing his temper about anything. He was always so calm and relaxed, very go-with-the-flow. “I can’t quite see that happening.”

“I don’t lose it like that very often,” he said. “He just caught me in the wrong mood. And I don’t like Dave very much anyway. He’s my brother and so I love him, but he was constantly a dick to me growing up. You’re lucky your brothers are cool.”

There was a minor lull in our conversation when the waitress delivered our food. Jake smiled at her politely and thanked her, sending her on her way in a slightly better mood.

“Well, what about your sister?” I finally asked. “What’s she like?”

“Michelle’s cool,” Jake answered. “She’s really easy to get along with and she’s super smart. But she can do no wrong and that can get irritating. If I eat in my room and forget to put my plate in the sink and leave it overnight, Jesus Christ, you would think that I’d killed somebody. But Michelle can do it and no one says anything.”

That kind of reminded me of the conversation I’d had with Matt when he’d wanted me to tell Dad about the baby. “Michelle might not see it that way.”

“Regardless of whether she does or not, it’s annoying to me,” Jake rolled his eyes, picking at his pasta. “Plus I wish my parents would stop comparing all of us. Dave’s the fuckup for obvious reasons, Michelle’s perfect because she works and goes to school and has an active social life, and I’m the bum.”

“You are not a bum,” I frowned, and moved my hand over his free one. “I think you have a lot of good qualities. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for, and you’re a hard-worker. You can clean the funeral home better than just about anyone I’ve ever hired. You make really good tacos. You’re funny and you’re easy to talk to, and I know that you’re actually listening. You’re just a really good person. That’s all that really matters.”

He was quiet for a moment, but he smiled. “That’s a lot of compliments.”

“They’re not compliments, they’re true,” I said, and removed my hand from over his. It felt like awkward positioning and I wasn’t sure how long I was even supposed to leave it there.

“Well, thank you,” he continued to smile. “That’s encouraging. I needed to hear that.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so I smiled at him sheepishly and we continued to eat, sticking to lighter topics, like music and some of the weirdos we saw walking around school sometimes. It was pleasurable to switch from such personal topics to something easy. I could feel myself liking Jake more with every word he spoke, and frankly, that was a little scary. I didn’t like to get personal with people. But Liz had told me to try, so that’s what I was doing.

After a little while, the waitress came to our table and asked about dessert. Before I could decline, Jake ordered the chocolate cake I’d briefly mentioned liking while we were flipping through the menus earlier. The waitress went on her way.

“Thank you, but that wasn’t really necessary,” I told him appreciatively. “I can live without cake.”

“I know,” Jake said. “But you said you haven’t had it in two years, so I felt justified in ordering it for you.”

“I feel bad that you’re buying.” I shifted in my seat a little uncomfortably. “We can split it.”

“I’m not big on chocolate,” he declined. “But thank you.”

“Are you sure?” I checked. “It comes with vanilla ice cream. I don’t ever eat the ice cream. You can have that if you want.”

“That I’ll agree to,” Jake accepted. “Only if you’re sure you don’t want it, though.”

“I’m absolutely positive,” I nodded. “Go right ahead.” I wasn’t big on sharing food or drinks with other people. I found it disgusting on some level, but with Jake, the thought hadn’t really crossed my mind.

While we waited for dessert, Jake was animatedly telling me his opinions of Revolutionary Road, continually complaining about the fact that Frank and April were still married, and wondering why you’d want to stay in such an unhappy relationship. He hadn’t really noticed when the waitress set the cake down in front of us, so I thanked her quietly while Jake continued ranting. I picked up one of the spoons and took a bite of the cake, nodding along while he continued talking. I finally had to shove his spoon in front of his face and warn him that the ice cream was melting and that I didn’t want it to touch the cake and make it soggy.

“This is probably the best vanilla ice cream I’ve ever had,” Jake enthused after taking a bite. “Hands down. Try some.”

“I’m not big on vanilla,” I told him. “But this cake is fantastic.”

“I’ll try some of that cake if you’ll try the ice cream,” he tried to bargain.

“I don’t recall asking you to try the cake,” I teased. “I asked at first, but then you said no, so the offer is void.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Jake rolled his eyes. He scooped some of the ice cream on his spoon and offered it to me. “Try it.”

I declined the use of his spoon and used mine to take off a small sliver of ice cream. “Happy?”

“Yes,” he said, and waited until I’d tried it before continuing. “Do you like it?”

I nodded. “It’s not bad for vanilla.”

“That was a very underwhelming reaction,” he said before digging his spoon into the cake to try some. He chewed it slowly and raised his eyebrows. “That’s actually really good. And I don’t even like chocolate.”

We continued to talk and laugh over dessert. We lingered for a little while after, and finally left when someone started singing that “I like big butts and I cannot lie” song. The snow outside was finally starting to clear up and Parma hadn’t done a completely shitty job of plowing the streets, so we made it back to the funeral home pretty quickly. Jake did his usual thing and pulled around so that he was parked under the canopy leading to the front doors.

“Thanks again for dinner,” I said. This was the part that I hated, saying good-bye. This was the part with the most awkward tension, where neither one of us really knew what to say. Then again, it was probably me putting too much pressure on the situation.

“No problem,” Jake said. “I’m glad you went. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to or not.” That was the first time he’d hinted at anything concerning the botched kiss all day, and I’d spend the better part of the day with him. He shifted on the seat so that he was facing me, so I did the same. “I’m sorry about the eyelash thing on Saturday.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” I smiled. “It was nice. Cheesy, but nice.”

“Listen, I’m not trying to play games with you here, Veronica,” he said earnestly. “I like you. I’ve told you that, and I mean it. So now we’re at an impasse. You either like me or you don’t. If you don’t, then we shake hands and move on and remain study buddies, and I’ll still work for you and your dad. If you do like me, then we decide what we want to do about it. But I have to know one way or the other.” He looked vulnerable biting the inside of his cheek while he waited for an answer, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his knee.

I don’t know what came over me, but I moved across the seat and kissed him, lingering for a moment before he kissed back, seemingly shocked by the action. “Does that answer your question?”

“Actually, I think I need a reminder,” he breathed, and I kissed him slower this time.

“Got it now?”

“I think so.” His voice was lower than usual and it sounded unbelievably alluring. “But that doesn’t answer my other question. What do we want to do about it?”

I liked that he used the term we. But I didn’t quite have an answer for him, and I told him that. “Right now, I don’t know. I guess we’re seeing each other. But I don’t want to see anyone else.”

“Neither do I,” Jake agreed. “So I guess we’re seeing each other exclusively.” He chuckled to himself. “I don’t think there’s a Facebook option for that.”

I laughed with him. “I don’t think we need to rush to put a label on things, or if we even should.” Now was as good a time as any to be honest. “I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time, so I really don’t know what I’m doing. But the last time I tried anything with a guy, I got hurt. Bad.”

He didn’t pry into what that experience was, and I was very grateful for that. “So have I. But I’m not going to hurt you, and I don’t think you’ll hurt me.”

“You might,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I might. We don’t know that.”

“Then we take it as it comes, and we deal with it.” He put his hand against my face like he did on Saturday night right before he’d kissed me. “I’m not asking for much right now. We can take it slow, that’s fine. I just want to know that I have you.”

I nodded earnestly. “You do.” He pulled me close and kissed me, slow and sweet. It was a way I’d never been kissed before. Those times, I’d only felt lust and want and greed. But now, here with Jake, I felt something else. It wasn’t love, but it was something like it, and I loved that feeling.

We broke apart and I muttered something about needing to head inside. I invited him up this time and he accepted, just to say hi to my dad and grab his suit that was hanging up in my bathroom. He retrieved his suit and seemed to have every intention of saying good-bye, but my dad kept talking to him, not catching on to any of the irritated glances I threw his way.

“So what are your plans for tomorrow evening?” It seemed like Dad was finally getting to his point after blah-blahing about something he’d seen on the news.

“I don’t have any real plans,” Jake said. “Why, is there a viewing?”

“No,” Dad shook his head. “But every Valentine’s Day, my wife and I used to go out to this Italian restaurant to celebrate. After she passed, we kind of started a new tradition and made it a family holiday, so now everyone comes over and Veronica makes spaghetti. Would you like to join us?”

Jake looked over at me before answering, like he was trying to see if I wanted him there with all of my family. I didn’t mind at all, and I let that show with a small smile. “Yeah, sure. What time?”

“I told Liz six,” I said. “So around then is good.”

He nodded. “Awesome. I’m not gonna die from your cooking though, right?”

“Hey, I had faith in your tacos,” I laughed. “Have faith in my spaghetti. No one’s died from it yet, and Liz always has seconds and then takes some home. So I’d say that’s a pretty good indication that it’s fine.”

“We’ll see,” he teased. He put an arm around my shoulder in a sideways hug and kissed my cheek. “I’ve gotta get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave my dad a little wave before heading down the hallway. “Goodnight.”

Once Dad and I heard the door shut, he asked, “So what was that about?”

I didn’t feel like telling him. For at least one night, I wanted to keep my memories of Jake to myself. “I’ll tell you tomorrow,” I promised and went over to kiss his cheek. “I’m going to bed. ‘Night, Dad.”

That night, I fell asleep with a smile on my face for the first time in ages.