Page 81 of This Time Around
She likely had a point. Still, what was he supposed to do? “I can’t just show up on her doorstep.”
“Sure you can. It’s better that way. No phone calls. No text messages. No Spacebook messages. Just real, old-fashioned face-to-face dialogue.”
He laughed, both at the earnestness of her reply and her blending of Facebook and My Space. Still, he felt pretty sure his mom was oversimplifying things a bit. She obviously didn’t realize Allie had just told him they were better off not starting down that road again. If that’s how she really felt, was it really his place to convince her otherwise?
Maybe.
He cleared his throat and lifted his eyes back to his mom’s face. “You’re okay watching Paige for an hour?”
She smiled. “I insist.”
As soon as Jack had worked out his daughter’s punishment and doled out at least a million hugs and snuggles, he told her he needed to run an errand.
“Are you going to see Allie?” she asked.
He smoothed her hair back from her face. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you have that look.”
“Jeez,” he muttered, not bothering to ask what look she was talking about. “You’re as bad as your grandma.”
Paige grinned, obviously taking it as a compliment. “Can you find out if Allie wants to take me shopping this week? Like maybe she could pick me up after school and we could have ice cream or something and then go to the mall.”
“We’ll see.” He kept it vague, not wanting to get her hopes up. If Allie meant it about the last night being a mistake, what did that mean for their friendship?
“I love you, daddy.”
“I love you, too, Noodle Clump.”
She giggled and squeezed him tight, fortifying him with a hefty dose of bravery as he set out to talk with Allie about last night.
But standing on her doorstep now, he felt his bravery trickling from his forehead and springing up under his arms. God, did he always have to sweat when he got nervous?
He took a few deep breaths, getting his bearings. The air smelled spicy, like autumn leaves and fresh bark dust. There was a clay pot of geraniums next to the front door, their carrot-scented red blossoms a cheerful contrast to the pale yellow siding on the house. The white plantation shutters looked like they’d gotten a fresh coat of paint, and Jack wondered when Allie had found time to do all this. Must have been sometime today, since he hadn’t noticed it the night before.
He took one more deep breath and turned his attention back to the door. He knocked once, then waited. The sign telling him to come right in had vanished, so all he could do was stand here. He felt itchy in his own skin, uncomfortable and awkward.
No one answered, so Jack knocked again. He was on the brink of ringing the bell when he heard a thud on the other side of the fence. Frowning, he walked to the edge of the yard and approached the gate. It was slightly ajar, so Jack pushed it open and stepped into the backyard.
The second he saw Allie, he realized this was about to be more awkward.
“Allie, hi.” He looked her up and down, trying to keep his own reaction in check as she stared down at him from the edge of the deck. “Um, wow.”
“What?” Her tone was flat.
“I’ve never seen you wear combat fatigues before.”
She flipped up the visor on the helmet she wore, revealing a guarded expression and one very bruised eye. “Can I help you?”
Jack’s stomach lurched. “Oh my God. Are you okay?” He moved closer, stepping up onto the deck for a closer look. “Who the hell gave you a black eye?”
“The stupid woodpeckers!”
He blinked, then looked her up and down again. The camouflage getup wasn’t something she’d picked up at a local hunting store. It looked old, maybe vintage military. Jack returned his gaze to her face, wincing as he took in the shiner again.
“A woodpecker hit you in the face,” he said slowly, trying to understand.
“No,” she said with exaggerated patience. “The woodpeckers made holes in my house, so I went up to the attic and found all this camo gear and an old BB gun, so I thought maybe I could take care of the woodpecker problem the old-fashioned way.”
