Page 59 of Jumping In

A few hours later, Mac, his family, and our friends are all filling up tables at Hal’s. Even my parents joined us, and I can’t stop smiling. We won! Well, technically Henry won the case, but Mac only got community service, which is exactly what we hoped for.

I look over at him and he gives me a soft smile, whispering, “I just want to celebrate with my girl, consequences be damned.” I smile back and nod.

My smile falters when I see my parents approaching the table. My dad, pulling out a chair for my mom, pauses mid-motion when he glances at us. Mom looks over at him, curious why he stopped pulling her chair out, and I see her face fall. “Bill,” she mutters. “It’s okay.” She pats him on the chest, trying to get him to look at her but his eyes are glued on Mac’s arm that has now fallen down my backand is around my waist.

“Laurie, I can’t do this.” Dad shakes his head. His tone is quiet, not wanting to cause a scene I’m sure, but I can still make out what he said.

My mom takes a deep breath and gives me a sad look. “I’m sorry, Peanut,” she whispers across the table.

“Mom? Dad?” My dad turns away from the table and takes firm steps toward the door. Mom looks over her shoulder, mouthing, “Sorry,” and following him out.

Jumping out of my seat, I jog to catch up, dodging patrons and servers with trays. My feet hit the sidewalk out front just as my parents are getting into their vehicle. “Daddy, wait!” I call. He turns to face me with his hand propped on the door, holding it open for my mom.

“Come back in, please?” I plead with my parents, desperate for them to be part of the celebration. Mom looks at my dad with hope in her expression, but my dad shakes his head.

“No, thank you,” he says, his tone clipped. “If that boy is the company you’re choosing to keep, then you are choosing to spend time with him and us separately. I just can’t stand by and watch you throw your life away getting so attached to a criminal!” My dad shouts the last part, and I wince as my blood heats.

“He’s not!” I shout back, defending Mac, but my dad interrupts me.

“No, Emmalynn Jane! I don’t want to hear it. I thought you were smarter than this. I’ve heard the rumors—I’ve seen the furtive glances you two thought you were sneaking.” I reel back at his admission, my face heating.

“You seemed to not let it affect your work, so I let it slide, hoping what I thought was happening wasn’t the case. But I can see very clearly now what you’ve been hiding, and I won’t stand for it. Go enjoy your celebration if that is what you wish to do. Your mother and I are going home, and we can discuss this more another time.”

He nudges my mom to get into the car and then closes the door behind her. My shoulders shake and tears threaten to fall as I watch my parents drive away.

“MJ?” Beck’s soft voice startles me, and I turn to face her. Without a word, she immediately wraps her arms around me and pulls me into her. Completely losing it, I cry into her shoulder. She pats my hair and rubs my back, soothing me and I try to pull myself together.

When I pull back, I see tear stains all down her white shirt. “Beck, I’m so sorry. I ruined your shirt.”

“Shhh, it’s just a little salt water.” She shakes her head and gives me a warm smile.

“He just . . . they just . . .” I can’t even get the words out, tears welling up again.

“I saw. It’s going to be okay, though.”

“How?” I sob, another bout of tears streaming down my face.

“Things always have a way of working out.” She wipes the tears from my face and exaggerates taking a deep breath. I get the hint and follow suit, inhaling and exhaling with her. “Now, let's get you cleaned up and back inside. I had to sick Austin on Mac to keep him in there, and I’m not surehow long he can hold out.”

This makes me smile, and I nod. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that it’s a time to celebrate. The sting of rejection from my parents hurts, but I want to be there for the man I love.

“That’s my girl,” Beck says softly and then drapes her arm around my shoulder, leading me back inside.

July 18

The leather groans beneath me as I wiggle on the couch at the shop, trying to keep from losing a layer of skin. Leather and this heat never mix well, but it’s better than sitting on concrete. I’ve been staying at the loft with Mac for the last few days, not ready to face my parents yet. Mom has texted a few times to check in, and I think she and I are okay, but I haven’t heard from my dad, and I’m not sure I want to. I know I need to talk with them soon, and I can’t avoid them forever, especially since the clothes I grabbed Tuesday morning aren’t going to last me much longer.

Mac is tinkering with his third project of the day while I’ve been working on some ideas for Blake and Austin. I scroll through the templates I’ve created for their Instagram, and a sense of pride washes over me.

“What are you smiling at, baby?” Mac walks toward me, wiping his hands with a red shop rag.

“I was just looking at some social media templates I started for Blake and Austin. Something they can easily use to post regularly. They’re not great, but a start. I know we still have to figure out branding and what vibe they’re going for but—hey!” I cringe as Mac swipes the laptop off my lap, scrolling through the content.

“These look fantastic, MJ.”

“Really? I mean, they’re just basic templates.”

“These aren’t just basic. Maybe we can work on some stuff for the shop? Finally, make an Insta for it?” He asks.

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