Page 29 of One Little Chance
He’d texted me before I fell asleep double-checking if I’d be there, but I didn’t want to say I was sick. I was determined towake up feeling better. To wrap him up in my arms after the final soccer day and tell him I want every Saturday from now on.
I scrambled to the mirror. My nose was as red as Rudolph’s. My room was full of scattered used tissues. I tried to tame my hair the best I could and yanked on leggings and a sweater.
Dazed and sniffly, I ran out to find Jordan alone in the park packing his truck.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he greeted me as I walked across the park to his truck. “The kids loved the cookies. But they missed Miss Sophia.”
“I’m sorry. I overslept.” I sniffled. I leaned down to grab a case of water bottles to help put away.
His forehead wrinkled as he looked at me. “Sophie? Are you okay?”
“I have a cold, I think,” I admitted, leaving the water bottles on the ground as he placed a hand on my forehead. “I’m so sad I missed your last day. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, you’re burning hot,” he gasped. “We need to get you inside.” Jordan left his truck and everything behind, scooping me into his arms and carrying me back to my house.
My mind was blurry, my body achy as Jordan tucked me into my bed.
“You were still going to try and help me pack up the truck, weren’t you, Rogers?” Jordan said softly.
Rogers.My sick, tired heart soared. He pulled the quilt up under my chin as I shivered.
I closed my eyes for a moment, opening them back up to find him swiping a thermometer across my forehead. “Too high,” he said gruffly.
Next thing I knew, I had a cold rag on my head.
I closed my eyes again, opening them to find Jordan setting a warm mug of tea beside me. “Drink this. I added honey for your throat,” he said.
From my room, I could hear him in the kitchen rustling around in my medicine cabinet.
He made me scrambled eggs on buttered toast. I had vivid memories of a younger Jordan sick under a fuzzy blanket on his family’s couch while his mom delivered him plates of freshly cooked scrambled eggs on toast.
It was as if I had been a wilted flower and Jordan was the sun peeking out from behind the clouds beaming down on me, bringing me back to life. I was already feeling so much better.
I took a bite of toast as Jordan set a fresh glass of water down on my end table. “You know, you obviously remind me of your dad. With the sandy hair. And the love for building things. And the way you two are both always the most welcoming presence in whatever room you enter.”
He stood by the bed, head cocked to the side.
“But, days like today when you make me food and tuck me into bed, you remind me of your mom. She was always the first to clean up my scraped knees or comfort me on a bad day. You’re like that, too. You attune to everyone’s needs, whether it’s physical like getting them cough syrup, or it’s emotional, like how you kept checking in on me since I’ve moved back.”
“The checking in is a little selfish.” Jordan sat down on the end of the bed. “I can’t resist any reason to talk to you.”
“It’s not just that, though. You’ve always been there for me. You didn’t want me to go to school hours away, but you still worked on the college application with me for hours. You even threw me a big party to celebrate when I got in. If things hadn’t…” I let my voice trail off. I had a lump in my throat but kept speaking. “I know you would’ve driven miles and miles every weekend to see me.”
Jordan embodied the healthy kind of love where in his atmosphere my needs always rose to the surface. He never let me bury them. A younger me didn’t realize how rare it was to beloved like that. Older me? I was ready to dig his needs and wants up like buried treasure.
He looked down at the quilt on my bed. “You know I love this town—I love my business—but I would’ve left it all and moved to you. I was already thinking about it even then. Nothing would’ve kept me from you.”
Nothing would’ve kept him from me,except meit turned out.
“Can I say I’m happy you didn’t leave everything?” I whispered, not sure if what I was saying would be received how I meant it. “I love how you give. How you care. But you deserve to have a life about you, too. I see how working with your dad makes you happy. How driving down the streets of Sweet River is exactly where you should be. I wouldn’t have wanted to be the person who took that away from you.”
Maybe our younger selves weren’t meant for each other yet because we weren’t equipped for the depth of our feelings back then. Instead, older Jordan, who’d finally realized he wanted someone whose dreams matched his, was meant for older Sophia who’d come back to Sweet River on her own accord because she grew up and realized all her dreams were here.
“Sophie, you wouldn’t have taken anything from me. It’s funny. You’re saying how I’ve always been there for you and would’ve driven miles to see you…as if that wasn’t alsofor me.Because there’s nothing, not my hometown, not my job, nothing that makes me happier than seeing you smile.” Jordan’s gaze was so intent I could nearly feel it on my skin. “But, maybe, I was young then and didn’t quite know how to navigate what we had between us.”
Maybe we could navigate it now, I wanted to say, trying to collect my fuzzy, NyQuil-laden thoughts enough to broach the subject.
But Jordan was standing up. “Get some sleep,” he said gently, taking my empty plate. “We can talk later.”
