Page 62 of A Heart Worth Finding
After that, the two families made quick work of clearing the table, then congregated in the den for a nightcap.
Somehow, Jessica wound up wedged on a loveseat with her mother, who wasted absolutely no time in needling Jessica about Jack once again.
“Tell me what’s really bothering you,” her mom said.
When she was younger, it had irritated Jessica to no end that her mother saw through her, as though she were as thin as a sheer curtain. As an adult, she’d come to appreciate this gift. It made it easier when she wanted to get something off her chest; before she could bring it up, her mother was already asking.
“Jack showing up really threw me for a loop,” she said. “And it’s not like he’s someone I can really avoid, you know? He’sAiden’s best friend, teammate,androommate. And Kenzie is one ofmybest friends. There’s going to be some overlap there, and I’m not sure how to navigate it.”
“I guess I’m confused on why that’s tripping you up,” her mom said. “You have Silas. So either you’re happy and secure in that relationship, and Jack’s random presence in your life shouldn’t be an issue, or…”
“Or I’m not happy,” she whispered.
It was the first time she’d said the words aloud to anyone, and it felt a lot like taking her bra off at the end of the day: freeing because she could finally breathe.
But the thing was, she and Silas had been happy once, and she knew now, after three years of ups and downs, that thingscouldbe good again. And it didn’t make sense to give up a sure thing for a maybe, for something that had been so fleeting.
So right in the moment, but ephemeral.
Jessica’s mom threw an arm around her shoulders and drew her close, brushing her fingers through her hair exactly as she had for both her and her sister when they were kids. It was a gesture meant to comfort, to remind her that her mother was here, and would support her in whatever she decided to do.
“I think if you’re this torn,” her mom began, “you’ve already made up your mind.”
“What do you mean?” Jessica asked, tilting her head to stare into those blue eyes that mirrored her own.
“I think this is the universe giving you a second chance, sweetheart. To have a love like me and your father, or”—she glanced across the room to her other daughter, who sat curled up on Brent’s lap, both of their hands resting on her swollen belly—“like your sister and Brent. Ultimately, you have to decide if you want familiarity, or…something real. The kind of love that spans miles and years and other relationships, and still finds its way home.”
NOW: November 28, 2023
Tuesday and Thursday ofevery week—when school was in session—Jessica tutored. Her clients were spread across the city, but that particular one was, of all things, a hockey player at East Lansing High School. This was only their third session, so she hadn’t learned much about him outside of the fact that he played hockey and enjoyed distance running. He had practice at four p.m. at Suburban Ice, which was a local ice rink, so Jessica opted to meet him there that day, when normally, they would’ve met at the school.
When she strolled inside, her winter coat bundled around her, hands stuffed into heavy mittens, it was just before three. Jessica was pleased to find Seb already waiting for her in the warmingroom, a thin paperback book open in front of him, his hand scrawling notes on a yellow legal pad.
That was the first thing she’d noticed about Seb when she began tutoring him—he favored the legal pad over a notebook, and favored taking handwritten notes over typed ones like the majority of his classmates.
“It helps me retain the information better,” he’d said when she’d questioned him that first time. “It’s like hockey. I need to be hands on to learn.”
As his tutor—and as an aspiring teacher—this information proved to be widely useful for Jessica, not just with Seb, but with her other clients and her career going forward.
Each person learned differently, and a learning plan that worked for one didn’t always—in fact, rarely did—work for another.
“Hey Seb!” Jessica said brightly when she walked into the warming room.
He glanced up at her, shooting her his signature, wide, toothy grin, then dropped his gaze back to the page, hand still writing out words, presumably finishing his train of thought before he moved onto their session.
When she slid into her seat across him, he set his pen down and raised his gaze to meet hers. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Just had to finish this thought before I moved on.”
Jessica chuckled as he echoed her thoughts. “It’s okay. What’re you working on?”
“English paper,” he said. “We’re reading1984and I’m miserable.”
“I hated that book,” Jessica said sympathetically. “Although, I suppose the questions Orwell raised weren’t too far off, were they?”
Seb laughed. “No, they weren’t.”
“What exactly does the paper have to be about? Do you need help?”
“It’s a comparison between1984and a similar, more modern title. Where they differ and relate. Then comparing the overarching themes of both books, and relating them to our society. I haven’t found a comparable book yet, though, and I’m running out of time so that’s got me a little stressed. I don’t understand why our teacher didn’t just tell us what to read.”
