Page 12 of Old Habits

“Tucker.”

He recoils. “Yeah. She’s back. Jovie’s back.”

My guts twist. “How long has she been back?”

“I dunno. A day or two...” I squint at him. “Okay, four. Four days. She’s staying with her dad.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” He holds up his hands in surrender. “Really, truly. I don’t know. All I know is that she’s back, she’s at Uncle Hank’s, she got her old job back at the toy store, and that really is her car right there. We had to special order a part for it because it’s old as shit. But that’s it. That’s all I know.”

I relax my grip. He slips free and takes a wide step back out of my reach.

Holy shit.

Jovie Ross actually came home.

I walk over to the car as another wave of cold memories threatens to knock me over. Jovie’s little, blue car. One of the back windows is cracked and held together with duct tape and the antenna is nearly bent off but this is it. I’d recognize that backseat anywhere.

Tucker straightens his shirt and hovers over my shoulder. “But even if she is back… who cares, right?” he asks. “You’re over her... right?”

I blink. “Yeah.”

“See? No worries…” He pats my shoulder with caution. “Right?”

“Yeah, no worries.” I shift a step backward. “I’m going to lunch.”

“It’s ten-thirty in the morning. Will— ah, crap…”

I leave the garage, ignoring his voice. Every instinct in me tells me to drop this but I can’t. My feet lead me through the town square, past the post office and the diner and coffee shop.

All the way to Trin’s Toys.

I halt in my tracks with my hand on the door. I stare through the glass, feeling my heart plummet from my chest to six feet under the damn earth.

She really did come home.

Jovie Ross stands behind the old cash register with her back toward me but there’s no way it can’t be her.

Her dark brown hair hangs several inches beneath her shoulders, jutting off in thick, wavy strands. She never wore it so long before. Jovie was a pixie-cut kind of girl; the type who would cut it herself on a whim in her bathroom at 3 AM.

A red smock is wrapped around her slim waist. Long, strong legs poke out the bottom to hold her up. Her neck twists to the side as Mr. Trin calls out to her from the storeroom and those cheekbones stick out a little more.

I let go of the door and move to the side to watch her discretely through the windows.

“Damn, you walk fast…”

I see Tucker’s annoyed and out of breath reflection over my shoulder.

“It’s Jovie,” I say, unable to take my eyes off her.

“Yes, it is,” he says, wiping the sweat from his brow.

It sinks in deeper. “Jovie’s back.”

He nods. “I’m sorry, man. She asked me not to tell anyone. Pretty sure the emphasis was on you.”

Jovie turns in our direction and I spin away from the window to avoid her eyes.

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