Page 20 of Jack

“No, ma’am. I’m fine with anything.” Everly continues to put the food away.

Mom looks Lily over from head to toe. “You’re about a size eight.” She’s not asking a question. She knows.

“What’s happening?” Lily asks nervously. Fear finds its way into her voice. I swear she’s about to bolt out of here.

“I’m going to the house for some things. Everly and I are going to stay with you tonight. I’ll get you a few outfits.”

“That’s not necessary,” Lily says quickly.

“It’s okay, dear. I wouldn’t dream of forcing you to stay alone in a strange place tonight.” Mom looks over at the coffee maker. “I’ll make us a fresh pot when I get back.”

Mom doesn’t wait for anyone to say no. She rushes out the front door and down the path to her house.

“I don’t understand the problem.” Everly puts a carton of ice cream in the freezer. “Uncle Jack makes the best coffee. He has all the flavors and toppings you could ever want at his house. This morning, he even made chocolate shavings for me to put on the whipped cream.”

I give her a one-arm hug and kiss the top of her head. “Thanks, Evie. Love ya bunches, sweet girl.” I ruffle her hair.

Naturally, she swats my hand away. “No, Uncle Jack.”

If Shepherd had ruffled her hair, Everly would have laughed. Once again, bloody Shepherd. And once again, I remind myself he’s my friend. I’m not used to fighting jealousy off like this. I don’t like it.

Lily’s mouth falls open as she watches Everly. Yeah, she figured it out. Enough was said in Dad’s office for her to knowAriel was my sister. Everly and Logan are her children. They were three and four when we lost their mom. My parents got legal custody of them within two months. I was fifteen when it happened. It’s still hard for me to talk about. So I usually don’t.

Since Mom’s making more coffee when she returns, I get my mug and finish off this pot. We’re not letting good coffee go to waste. When I turn around, Everly takes the mug from my hands and takes a sip.

“Thanks, Uncle Jack.” She sits down at the table withmycup of coffee.

I stare at my niece like she’s grown horns. Hey, this is coffee we’re talking about. Lily giggles, and my head snaps toward her. It’s one of the sweetest sounds I’ve ever heard. And one I want to hear again. Every day.

“No one has to stay with me.” Lily sits across from Everly.

“Nanny insists.” Everly continues to sipmycoffee.

It’s okay. I’m still staring at the beautiful woman across from her, hoping she’ll giggle again.

“Oh. You don't leave the women you rescue here alone.” She nods like she understands. She doesn’t.

Everly shakes her head. “None of the angels have ever stayed here.”

Lily turns her head toward me. I really want to see her eyes. I shrug in reply to her unspoken questions. She’s the only angel to stay in this house.

No more questions are asked. No stories are shared. I haven’t learned much about the woman I’m destined to protect. When Mom comes through the door pulling two large suitcases, I know I’ve lost my chance tonight. Naturally, I get up and carry the suitcases to which bedroom Mom orders them to go. One holds the things she and Everly will need tonight. The one I placed in the master bedroom is for Lily. It was the heaviest. Mom definitely went a little overboard here.

“Now, go enjoy your party.” Mom kisses my cheek. It’s her way of lovingly dismissing me.

“But.” My eyes seek Lily out at the table.

“Don’t worry, Uncle Jack. We’ll take good care of her.” Everly doesn’t look up from the puzzle she’s putting together on the kitchen table.

Lily turns her head and quietly watches me. Mom doesn’t rush the moment. I really don’t want to leave. I sure don’t want to go back to the party.

She finally speaks. “Goodnight, Jack.”

That’s it. That’s all I’m getting tonight.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I don’t know why I asked it as a question. Of course, I’ll see her tomorrow.

Lily simply nods. Mom takes that as her cue to lovingly push me out the door. I stare at the closed door for several minutes. I can’t stand here all night. Mom will flog me in the morning if I sleep on the swing. Going back to the party really isn’t an option. It doesn’t feel right. Instead, I walk home. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I drop down on a lounge chair on the back porch and stare at the lights in the guest house.

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