Page 11 of This Time Around
“The bucket board,” he said. “Patent pending.”
She gave a small smile and Jack remembered how much bigger her smile had been when she’d found it. He’d fashioned the bucket board from a buddy’s cast-off corkboard and some leftover Christmas gift tags.
“Every year on our anniversary, we’ll write down our bucket list goals as a couple,” he’d explained, “things like ‘have sex under a waterfall’ or ‘think up names for our kids.’”
“Or, ‘start a savings account,’ she’d offered. “Maybe ‘pass the bar exam.’”
“Sure, that’s fine.”
As Jack snapped his attention back to the present, he noticed Allie wasn’t smiling anymore.
“There were other things in the box,” she said, glancing down at her lap. “Tons of paperwork. I’m not sure how it ended up with my parents’ stuff, but there it was—unpaid power bills, an old credit card bill, a third late-payment notice for your student loans?—”
“Right,” Jack grunted. “Keeping track of that stuff was never my forte.”
She frowned. “There were a ton of collections notices. I never realized how many late fees you racked up and how many credit cards there were.”
“Allie, come on.” He set his mug down hard on the end table, deliberately missing the coaster. “Maybe I could have done a better job paying my bills if you hadn’t insisted on that insanely expensive apartment with the heat blasting all the time and those ridiculously expensive HOA dues to cover the on-site fitness center and the trendy zip code and?—”
Paige kicked him in the nuts again, and Jack shut up. His voice had risen along with his frustration, but his daughter slept on. He took a deep breath, then reached down and stroked her hair. His little girl smiled in her sleep, and Jack felt himself go calm again.
When he looked up, Allie sat staring at him. “My apologies.” Her voice sounded tight. “Sorry if I happened to like having nice things.”
Jack felt his blood pressure rising, but kept his voice low this time. “And I’m sorry if I didn’t mind the romance of learning how to be broke together. Ramen noodles, cheap beer, a crappy sofa scrounged out of the landfill instead of some fancy Pottery Barn number.”
Allie glared. “I’m so sorry to have deprived you of that experience. Bedbugs and Bud Light sound like tremendous fun.”
Jack gritted his teeth, annoyed with himself for falling back into this pattern with her. Annoyed with her for being who she was and with himself for being who he was, even though he felt pretty sure he wasn’t the same guy she remembered.
But mostly he felt annoyed that he still gave a damn what she thought of him.
He watched Allie tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and remembered the feel of those silky threads between his fingers. Her dark green eyes flickered with annoyance, and he watched her gaze drop to his hand. She stared for a long time, eyes fixed on his knuckles.
Or was she looking at Paige? At the small polka-dotted stockings cupped in his palm?
Jack cleared his throat. “I should get going.”
He shifted his daughter’s legs off his lap, and stood up. Paige grumbled in sleepy protest, but didn’t wake up. He leaned down and scooped her into his arms, deliberately avoiding Allie’s eyes. His little girl flopped like a rag doll, but didn’t wake up. How much longer would he be able to hold her like this? The thought that she wouldn’t always be this small made his chest ache.
When he turned to face Allie again, she was standing, too. Something in her eyes made him stop. It looked a lot like longing, or maybe he was imagining things.
“Thank you for having us over,” he said. “Dinner was excellent.”
“My pleasure.” She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, then stopped. When she closed it again, Jack knew that was the end of the conversation.
“It was good seeing you again,” she said at last.
“Likewise.” He shifted Paige in his arms and started to turn toward the door. He looked at Allie again, saw her hands twisting in the side seam of her dress, saw uncertainty flicker in those dark green eyes.
“You’re still beautiful, Allie,” he murmured. “For what it’s worth. More beautiful than you were sixteen years ago. That’s saying a lot.”
He wasn’t sure which of them felt more surprised by his words. Did her eyes look misty, or was it just a trick of light?
She didn’t say anything for a long time, and Jack stood there with his sleeping daughter in his arms wondering if he should have waited to pick her up. He’d missed his chance to hug Allie goodbye, but it was probably for the best.
“Thank you,” Allie said at last. “You look good, too. Congratulations.”
“On?”
