Page 40 of Forget Me Knot

“Why did you come? I’m closed today.”

Nate slides over the stool I keep behind the register and makes himself at home. “Just thought we’d check in. It’s been a while and—”

“Owen called you.”

Maloy points at me and clicks his tongue in his cheek. “Ding ding ding. You got it. Of course he did. Said you wigged out at lunch today with the family and the cute girl next door, and since we’re closed at Tots and he has practice, we’re onsad sapduty.”

Nate rubs the space between his brows. “I swear, you never stick to the plan.”

“Oh, you mean the plan where we sugarcoat things for Jack here, and he feels all better about himself but still refuses to take his head out of his be-hind?”

He jabs me in the side, and I have to keep myself from decking him in the face. These guys are my oldest friends, so punching Maloy in the face right here and now would hardly be the first time we’ve been in a fist fight… or even in a fight in Petals.I honestly think it’d make me feel marginally better.

Before I can act on my impulses, Nate steps up to the plate and pushes his brother aside. “Alright, here’s the deal, Jack.” The song changes next door, and all our attention shifts to the wall where Dinah’s voice sings along with old school No Doubtat the top of her lungs. “Man, she’s really wailing over there. Should we step in? Call someone? Check in on her too?”

“I volunteer as tribute!” Nate raises his hand and bounces on his feet like a chihuahua itching for a bone.

I slap his chest and push him down onto the stool. “Sit.”

“Good boy.” Nate pets his head and earns a slap from his brother. “So, you went to lunch.”

I walk away from them and start picking through ribbons for a quick tie on the bouquet of sunflowers, ferns, daisies, and irises I put together.

“And it went well,” Maloy adds. “Or that’s what Owen said.”

I grunt, wrap the flowers in paper, and tie a purple, velvet ribbon around them.

“Yeah, it went well, and that is definitely huge,” Nate continues, then steps up to the counter, staring me down. “Butyouwentto lunch, man. We know you haven’t been in years. And you went with Dinah. That means something, right? Why are you freaking out right now?”

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’re a lot of things Jack Jones, but you aren’t a liar.” Nate puts his hand on mine and pushes the flowers to the counter. “Frankly, I’m tired of this. I miss you, Jack. I miss my friend.”

“And I miss my karaoke partner.” Maloy smirks but it doesn’t light up his face like usual. I can’t remember the last time I went to their karaoke bar and hung out with them. Or the batting cages. Or just asked either to grab coffee. “You disappeared, Jack, but it isn’t just because you wake up some mornings feeling like someone else.”

It feels like a gross oversimplification, and I assume my face matches my thoughts, because he rolls his eyes and attempts a clarification. “I mean, yeah, you’re different. Obviously. And yeah, it’s a little weird sometimes.”

“Dude—” Nate tries to interrupt.

“No sugarcoating, remember?” Maloy leans over the counter. “You’re different, but the Jack you are today was always inside the Jackson you were three years ago—the guy we grew up with. I see it every time you play a prank on Winnie, or ya show up quietly for one of Owen’s games, or when you leave a floral arrangement on our mom’s porch after she visits you here at the shop.”

“I don’t—”

“Save it,” he says and keeps going. “We know who you are. You’re still that same old, sappy small-town dude, devoted to his family and friends. You—Jack—just aren’t the people pleasin’ version anymore. But you’re still you.” He pokes his finger in my chest. “In here, you’re the same guy. And if Jackson is the one who shows up tomorrow, it’ll still be you too.”

He moves that pointer from my chest to my forehead. “This is the problem.”

I swat at his hand. “I know that’s the problem.”

Nate steps in, tagging Maloy out with a high-five as they switch places. It’s sothem, it almost makes me smile. “You remember that first spring you worked here instead of at Peewee Camp and we all thought your Gramps hid it from your dad for a while so he wouldn’t blow a gasket that you weren’t playin’ ball?”

“I was playin’, though.”

“Yeah,” he continues, “but you know what I mean. Until that point, you lived, ate, and drank baseball. Everything we did was leading to college ball and the majors.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

I’d begged Gramps to cover for me. I didn’t want to disappoint my dad when all he wanted to talk about was my future in baseball, but all I could think about was a break. Gramps was the only one I ever told, and he offered me a job at Petals instead. Said it would be good to expand my horizons. Hemay have also mentioned it would go over well with girls, which he hadn’t been wrong about.

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