Page 79 of A Class of Her Own

“Hailey,” I hissed. “I’m freaking out.”

“Ford says to lay one on him. Again.”

“I’m not going to keep kissing a guy when I have no idea what it means.”

“Why? Kissing is fun,” Ford’s voice came in close to the mic. Hailey must have put her phone on speaker.

“I’m not like that. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“You’ve gone skiing. You’ve made vision boards together. You’re cleaning your dad’s house. Those are basically dates,” Hailey replied.

“What’s a vision board?” Ford asked. Then he made an impatient noise. “Nevermind. If he’s vacuuming, he’s into you.”

“This is terrible advice.” I swallowed, listening to make sure Brooks wasn’t about to bust in on this conversation.

Hailey sighed, and her voice lost its playfulness. “Mer, enjoy the fact that you’ve got a nice man helping you with some work around your dad’s house who also wants to kiss you. At the very least, it cuts the work time in half. At the most, you’re working toward something new. Let the rest of it figure itself out.”

That sounded logical. I heard footsteps on the stairs and fumbled with the phone. “Bye,” I said hastily and shoved it back in my pocket.

I dove toward the bed, stubbing my toe on the bed frame as I reached for the sheets. I ended up face down on the mattress, moaning as I tried to wiggle my toe back to life. I looked over to see Brooks lean against the door frame and push his hands into his pockets. His sleeves were rolled up and that tattoo on his arm was peaking out again.

“What’s your tattoo of?” I blurted as I pushed myself to standing.

“What’s up with your dad calling you Evergreen?”

I pulled a face and yanked the sheets off the rest of the bed. “Never mind. Questions are a horrible idea. Secrets are the way to go.” I wadded up the dirty sheets and tossed them toward the door to be carried down to the laundry room later. “Thanks for vacuuming. I hope no rodents were harmed.”

He grinned. “Do you usually end up vacuuming rodents?”

“No. I’m cracking jokes to break up the humiliation of you seeing all of this,” I said without thinking. Then, realizing what I’d said, I shook my head and made my way out into the hall to grab fresh sheets. “Ignore me, please. I think I’m having an aneurysm.”

“Your dad’s house isn’t nearly as bad as you act like it is.” He stepped to the side to let me pass, and I pushed down a shiver as my shoulder brushed his. “It looks like a bachelor pad. No big deal.”

I made a popping sound with my mouth. “Except he was married for a decade and raised three daughters here, so it should look a little less that way.”

Brooks stepped to the bed and began helping me put the fresh bedding on. “Are you a military corner person? Because you strike me as one. I have a quarter if you want to do the bounce test,” he teased.

“For my own bed, yes. For Dad’s, no. I’m more of the ‘Congrats, he’s not sleeping in filth’ mentality.” Again, I spoke without thinking. I stepped back from the newly made bed and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m really freaking out right now, and I’m acting strange. Give me a second to get my head back on straight.”

I left the room, my hands shaking, and sat on the top stair. I wrapped my arms around myself and ducked to sit with my forehead on my knees. I could not figure out why I felt like my sturdy, rock-like foundation was teetering today. It was like Hailey said, Brooks was a nice guy helping me out. He wasn’t here to judge anything or to pity me or whatever. I didn’t need to feel so off-center. But when he sat on the stair next to me, everything inside of me went on high alert. Because he wasn’t a nice guy anymore. He was the guy taking up a lot of headspace and making me rethink my deodorant brand.

“Hey, um, are you a person who can talk when they’re upset or a person who needs to be alone to process?” he asked quietly.

I let out an unamused laugh. “I think you’re the first person to ever ask me that. I’m usually a processor.”

“Okay.”

He fell into silence, simply sitting there. He was warm, and he smelled nice, and he gave me the same type of feeling I got from my cat Betty on hard days when I hugged her to my chest and stroked her fur. I closed my eyes. I was comparing him to my cat. I found myself matching my breathing to his, and soon a peaceful feeling stole over me. Enough that I was able to sit up, although I continued to stare straight ahead.

“Okay.” I cleared my throat. “So, my family is a whole thing, and I don’t really let people over to see it. When I was little, I got pity, loads of pity. I hate pity. I’ve worked really hard to build myself a fully functioning life, and I’ve always kept it tightly together and very separate from my dad. I believe I’m having a little freak out session over the fact that I’ve fought so hard to have you take me seriously, and now you’re seeing all this and hearing my dad call me Evergreen, and I can’t stand it.”

He took his time answering, and I appreciated that he was thoughtful about what he’d say. “Sure, this situation is messy, and I’ve been imagining what that was like for you as a child with the weight of it all on your shoulders. I’m guessing you were responsible for your sisters, too. I have to tell you, I’ve never taken you more seriously than I do now, after seeing this. You’re pretty incredible to have built the life you have. You won’t get pity from me. You’ll get admiration.”

At that I dared to look at him. He was so close that my eyes met his chin, and I had to tilt back slightly. “Really?”

He nodded. “I’m glad you let me come today.”

Tension flowed out of me. “Okay.”

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