Page 18 of Clara Knows Best

“Yes, ma’am.”

Clara rubbed her forehead. “Is it still in your pocket right now?”

She opened her eyes. His mouth was full, but he shook his head, his amusement palpable.

“Where did you put the lizard, Jesse?”

“Why are you so cranky?” he asked, looking mildly hurt. “I’m just trying to tell a funny story.”

She understood in a flash. He was messing with her.

“Oh, I know why,” he continued. “Princess Clara has a hangover.”

“Yeah, I do have a hangover. You picked this place on purpose, didn’t you? You’re trying to make me throw up.”

“I thought the kitchen smells might help you make up your mind if you’re going to be sick or not.”

“I’m not going to be sick.”

“Then why aren’t you eating?”

“I never eat before noon,” she lied.

He pushed his plate over to her. “Eat some of this and I’ll tell you where I put the lizard.”

She looked down at the messy food for a long minute. Then she unwrapped a fork and speared a small piece of meat.

“Right back where I got it,” he said proudly.

She stared at him as she chewed. “What?”

“Put it right back where I got it after my run. Little guy went over the whole property in one morning—probably for the only time in his life. The Neil Armstrong of lizards.”

“If Neil Armstrong was zipped into a pocket the whole time he was off-planet.”

“All right, forget the lizard,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows. “The real reason I brought you here is because last night you said you and your brothers all lived in Austin after high school.”

“That’s right. My parents bought a little two-bedroom near UT and Hart and I lived in it. Then Beck moved in and Hart moved to New York, and then Nash moved in and I moved to New York. Then Beck and Nash moved to Houston and my parents sold the house.”

“Now tell me, in your own words, why no one ever told me any of that.”

It was not something she had expected him to say, and she had to think it over for a minute before answering. So she took a big bite of carne asada and then apologetically motioned to her chewing, indicating that he must wait.

“Take your time,” he invited, tossing the pile of napkins towards her. “I have all day.”

As she chewed she mulled over the possibility that he really hadn’t known. She had always believed he knew of their presence but hadn’t wanted to see them, and though it hurt their feelings at the time, they had cut him a lot of slack. If he was thinking they should have made more effort to stay in his life, that wasn’t fair. But they probably should have anyway.

At last she said, “I don’t know what to tell you. You asked not to be contacted.”

“The Doc told you that?”

She thought back. “Mom told us you were mad at her and Dad. She said it was normal because of how poorly your father wasdoing and the stress of school and that you’d come back when you were ready. I guess Hart’s actually the one who told me he tried to contact you and got shot down. When I first moved there…six years ago, I guess? I wanted to invite you to a party and Hart talked me out of it.”

“Six years ago I was in med school and my dad was dying,” he said slowly.

“I know,” she assured him. “No one’s blaming you.”

“I was dating this other med student named Brittany who generally made my life unlivable,” he added.

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