Page 76 of Facing the Line

“How old is she?”

“Emma is nineteen, but mentally, she’s pretty close to an eight-year-old.”

His tone stays even and neutral, like this is all no big deal. And I suppose, for him, it’s not. It’s normal. I want to wrap my arms around him in a hug. I settle for letting my shoulder brush his.

“Well, she’s a hoot,” I tell him, and it must be the right thing to say, because his full-wattage grin spreads across his face.

“She is. Spunky and hilarious, probably my favorite person in the world.”

I thought I knew Jonas as well as everybody, but seeing him like this, in front of his family, is different. He’s still the same, but it’s like I’ve put on glasses and the fuzzy edges come into focus. The picture is richer and deeper. It’s a privilege he let me into this group.

“Joe, did you date in high school?” I ask, changing the subject.

He angles his body to face me, blinking. “Yeah, why?”

“Because based on the way your family is acting, I’d think I’m the first girl you’ve ever brought home.”

He glances at his older sisters, grouped together still and shooting us looks, and groans. “Oh, no. They are coming over here. Now you’re in for it.”

“Me?” I put my hand on my chest. “Are you going to leave me to the wolves by myself?”

“Sink or swim, Hads. Sink or swim.” And with that, he winks, pushing off the deck railing with a devilish grin, and walks away.

After Jonas’s sisters—Katie, Alyssa, and Lindsay—finish interrogating me, his dad announces it’s time for dinner. Everyone troops into the house to fill plates, then heads back outside to sit wherever they can find spots.

I end up perched on the deck again next to Jonas. Our plates and drinks balance on the wood railing, and we watch the chaos in the yard.

“Your family is awesome,” I tell him as one of his nieces—Addison, maybe?—spills juice on her sister Chloe.

He raises a brow in my direction. “You think?”

Another niece starts to cry, but I nod my head. “Yeah. You know that movieCheaper by the Dozen?”

“Lindsay was obsessed with it.”

“Well, so was I. I always wanted a family like this.”

He huffs a laugh. “And I wanted to be an only child.”

I push his shoulder. “You didn’t.”

“Nah, you’re right, I didn’t. I loved being the only boy. I got to be the prince in every story.”

He smiles again, and my insides melt. His dad comes and stands beside him, still wearing his punny apron. It’s like seeing Jonas thirty years in the future. Same dark eyes, same build. The only difference is his dad’s laugh lines and hair. Instead of being curly like Jonas’s, it’s close-cropped and gray at the temples.

To my surprise, he turns to me. “Hadley, I hear you’re from a hockey family.”

Oh. My dad. I try to keep my face neutral. “Yes, sir, I am.”

“Call me Grady, please.” He rocks on the balls of his feet and glances at Jonas. I can’t interpret the look they share. “Does that mean hockey is your favorite sport?”

“Um.” I twirl a strand of hair around my finger. I don’t really have a favorite sport, but I can tell that’s the wrong answer.

Thankfully, Jonas steps in. “What he’s trying to say is, do you like baseball?”

“I don’t hate it,” I say, trying to be diplomatic. “I’m not sure I’ve ever been to a game.”

“We’re gonna change that.” His dad smiles, transforming his gruff face, and claps Jonas on the shoulder. “I got tickets to the Cubs game on Sunday.”

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