Page 9 of Jumping In

“Okay, what’d I miss?” Austin asks.

“Nothing,” Blake and Shannon answer in unison and almost too quickly. I catch Blake shaking his head slightly with eyes that say to drop it. Austin looks to me and then back to Blake, but then just nods his head, and now I feel like I’m really missing something.

I decide not to press it and figure if it’s important enough, Shannon will fill me in later. Blake looks up at me with a smile. “So, MJ, your Instagram feed is looking very, um, what’s the word? Aesthetically pleasing?” He uses air quotes around the last two words, and I roll my eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, thank you. It’s a lot of work sometimes, but I love it and it’s been a fun little creative outlet for me.” Even though I was technically pre-law at Caracrest, I snuck in a few photography classes as electives. My advisor even suggested I fill all of my electives with marketing and advanced photography since I loved those intro classes so much.

“It’s not just a creative outlet though, right, MJ? Like you actually get people to take notice of what you’re posting,” Shannon suggests.

“No, not really.” I shake my head.

“Oh, come on, Em! What about that deli near your school that told you they thought they were getting extra business because of you?”

“That was just a coincidence, Shan!”

“Wait, what happened?” Austin asks.

“So, there was this sandwich shop down the street from my apartment in Piermont, and I was going like twice a week, and I would take pictures of my sandwiches and post them, tagging the shop, of course. The shop told me one time when I went in that they had noticed an increase in college students coming in, and they also saw a bunch of my posts, so they thanked me. Which I told them was ridiculous, but . . .” I shrug and take a sip of my water.

“Oh, Em, so modest. I remember all those sandwich pictures you were posting, and they looked delicious. I was even tempted to make the three-hour drive just to come have lunch with you there.”

I laugh and then change the subject, asking Blake what kind of food he’s thinking about serving at their restaurant. We talk and continue to catch up until I check my phone and see that it’s two-thirty in the morning already.

After getting our stuff back up to my parents’ house and each of us taking showers, Shannon and I fall into bed sometime after three.

Ichange my alarm to not go off before sunrise tomorrow since it’s already so late, put my phone on the charger and then snuggle in. Shannon’s breathing has already evened out, so I don’t get to question her about the odd conversation I walked into with her and Blake. Later, I’ll ask her later.

June 9

I wake up to the sun blazing through my curtains and the spot next to me is cold. Shannon must have gotten up and headed home already. I rub my eyes and toss the covers off me, then pad over to the bathroom. After freshening up, I go back to my nightstand and unplug my phone from the charger.

Checking my notifications, I see a text from Mom letting me know she and Dad headed to church and they would see me later for Sunday dinner. Religion is something we haven’t always agreed on, but Mom and Dad respect me enough to make my own decisions. They haven’t forced me to go to church since I first expressed my feelings when I was twelve. While they’ve always left that proverbial door open for me, it’s something I haven’t budged on in the last ten years.

A text from Shannon lets me know she made it home about an hour ago. She replies instantly when I text her athank you and ask what her plans are for the day. Looks like she has a shift at the bar later this evening.

All notifications cleared, I decide to make the most of a slow Sunday. Grabbing my Kindle, I head to the back porch to curl up in the swing and read for a bit until the heat makes me retreat back inside.

It’s close to lunchtime when Mom and Dad make it back home. The few hours I spent between the back porch and the family library, I was able to post a few pictures to my Instagram and comment on some others. I also text with my college girl friends and read a few chapters in my book. A productive day of summer break, if you ask me.

Mom is making sandwiches for us in the kitchen, and I slide onto a barstool at the island. Dad comes downstairs after changing out of his church clothes and pats me on the head. “What are you thinking of doing this summer, Emmalynn?” he asks.

I cringe internally and try to hide the reaction from my parents. If I’m being honest, I need to figure out what I’m going to tell them about next year. That’s been difficult when I don’t even know what I want to do next year.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. Just try to enjoy the summer, I guess,” I say, hoping that’s sufficient for my dad. By the raise of his eyebrows, I can tell he would like some elaboration. “Maybe I can help with a case at the firm,” I offer.

“What about law school applications?” Dad asks with a pointed look.

“Oh, I submitted those a while ago.” The lie tumbles from my lips so easily.

Dad looksto Mom, and they exchange a look similar to the look my friends shared last night. Why does it feel like I’m missing something?

Mom smiles softly at me and then nods slightly. Dad sighs and takes a seat next to me on the island. I turn my seat to face him but glance back at Mom, who’s now biting her bottom lip. “Okay, seriously! Blake and Austin last night. Now you guys. What am I missing?”

“Peanut, the firm has a case right now. It’s actually a criminal case, which is rare for Oakridge, so it would be great experience for you. But I’m not sure if it’d be a good idea for you to help with it.” I’m still completely confused.

“Why not?” I prod.

“Honestly, conflict of interest comes to mind . . .”

---