Page 64 of The Naughty List
Mom nods. “I noticed.”
“Not that. Well, yes that. But this isn’t about that. He’s leaving town for some kind of emergency so I—”
“So you jump and run when he calls? That’s not the Hollis I know.”
She’s got a point there.
“It’s different with Jonah.”
“You were moping like someone ran over your puppy tonight until he showed up. Now you’re leaving in the middle of the night.” She sighs heavily. The dark strands of hair are salted around her temples. I hadn’t noticed how much she was aging these past two years. “I’m all for young love, Hollis. I just worry about you is all. It’s my job, no matter how old you get.”
“He needs me and I…” How do I explain this to her when I can’t even explain it to myself? “I like that he needs me, Ma. I like that he lets me in when he doesn’t let anyone else in. I care a lot about him.”
She nods slowly. “I see that. I think he cares about you, too. But I’ve watched you put your own life on hold for the past two years. What has he put on hold for you? Anything?”
I don’t have time for this in-depth analysis right now.
“We have a lot to figure out. I know this.”
“I read the story about him online this morning. About his temper and that boy he nearly killed.”
I’d hoped my family hadn’t seen that but I knew the story—or some version of it—would make the rounds at the bar eventually.
“It was a long time ago,” I tell her. “He was an out of control kid that grew up in the state foster care system. But he did grow up. He’s not like that anymore—rather, that’s not really who he is. He’s one of the sweetest, most generous people I know.”
“Be careful, sweetheart. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I will.” I hug her and tell her I’ll be back as soon as I can tomorrow.
Once I’m on the road, on my way to Jonah, my mother’s words sink in.
Have I put my life on hold?
I don’t date. I don’t look for other jobs. I don’t move forward unless it suits Jonah.
He’s right about one thing.
We need to talk.
* * *
“You’re not serious?”
I stand in the middle of Jonah’s kitchen trying to focus on what he’s saying instead of remembering the last time I was here and naked on the countertop.
“Do you know another way to come up with that kind of money, Hollis?”
I frown. “I told you, we can do a fundraiser at the bar and—”
“It’s a quarter of a million dollars. No local fundraiser is going to bring in that kind of cash.”
I can’t think fast enough. He’s packed. His black suitcase looks military grade sitting ominously like a soldier by the door. He’s leaving for the airport as soon as his Uber arrives.
“You forget things, Jonah. Like buying dog food. Appointments. People’s names. How many more hits can you take until you can’t remember your own?”
“I don’t know. I hope we don’t find out.”
“This is because of that story? The one that ran this morning? You don’t have to spend the rest of your life paying for one mistake, Jonah.”
