Page 54 of Forget Me Knot

“Liar,” Emory coughs into her hand. “She has moods.”

I roll my eyes, but Jack points at my sister like they’ve come to an agreement. “I knew it! I knew you had a system.” He squeezes me. “I haven’t figured it out just yet, but you wear those green ones when you’re happy or excited or something along those lines. We’ll see what pink is all about.” Jack taps my nose and kisses it with a smile. “There’s another gift waiting for you at home.”

I wiggle my eyebrows at him in the least sexiest way possible but try to make it flirtatious and littleooh la lato really sell my excitement. “I love at-home surprises.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He kisses my cheek and pushes me off his lap. “Off, you. You’re trouble.”

Molly giggles and hands me the next gift. Opening the large box, I first find solid white granny panties. They’re big and full coverage and absolute perfection. I burst into giggles but then quickly find myself in tears when I see the real gift underneath.

Dad’s handwritten pretzel recipe printed on a wooden board.

It’s beautiful. I run my fingers over the curves of Dad’s lettering, going against the grain of the walnut it’s been etched into. Every curved swoop and end note that looks rushed or half written. I wonder why he wrote it down? He had this recipe memorized, backward and forward.

“He wrote it for James,” Emory tells me, reading my mind. I feel Jack’s hand slip up my back, running pressure up and down my spine. A warm comfort when I’m suddenly feeling a little off balance. “James… He wanted to make them for me once at school when I couldn’t make it home for a birthday. Mom texted him a picture, and I guess I just… I forgot it existed. I thought you might like to hang it in the shop.”

I nod, unable to form words. It’s the most she’s mentioned James or our parents in longer than I can remember, and the moment her explanation tumbles out, the floodgates of my heart open. Jack’s hand finds the back of my neck, giving it a tender squeeze. Reminding me that he’s here. Just like he wanted to be. It makes me feel brave. It makes me want to share a piece of my heart that I’ve held back so as not to weigh her down, but maybe it’s time.

“I miss them. So much, Em. I love you and this.” I hold the board to my chest, but I can’t help wishing it was a hug from my dad. Or a gentle tease from James. I can almost hear him saying Jack’s getting too handsy with me on the couch. I wish it was mom making pizzas and fawning over the guy I’m quickly falling in love with. I just… wish.

“But I hate that we don’t talk about them. Mom, Dad, James… They’ve become unspoken names in our life that feel like eggshells we’ll walk over forever and never clean up. I know you hurt more than I can understand, but Emory, it’s lonely… missing them. I feel like I’m alone.”

“You aren’t,” she whispers, her eyes brimming with tears.

“I’m worried that we’ll forget what her laugh sounded like. Or that we won’t tell Molly about James repeat-watchingThe Officeor about Dad’s—” I choke on my words. “About how Dad always smelled like—”

“Butter and beer,” Emory utters so quietly, I barely hear her.

Jack kisses my cheek, lingering there for a breath, and I feel his pride in that pause. It makes me feel a little like a flower, blooming in the sun. Without a word, he takes Molly by the hand and back outside, and I take a deep breath, feeling more free than I have in a long time.

“I miss them,” I repeat, and though it sounds simple, they’re the only words I can articulate.

Emory jumps from her seat, and I do the same, meeting her in the middle as she bursts into tears and pulls me into her arms. “I’m sorry, Dinah Belle.”

We cry for forever, but not enough to cover the years of hiding our grief from one another, and follow it up by eating our weight in strawberry ice cream and looking at an old family photo album with Jack and Molly. I think it’s the best birthday I’ve had in longer than I can remember.

18

BEAUTIFUL THINGS

BENSON BOONE

JACK

Strawberry Ice cream.

Poop shoes.

Dinner O & W.

It’s been three days since I’ve been myself, but the only notes Jackson wrote are tiny blips and disjointed thoughts that leave me stuttering throughout the day. He’s remembering.

Strawberry ice cream. I ate that with Dinah last weekend.Poop shoes, thanks to my jaunt around the pasture with Molly.

Another one on the bathroom mirror:I remember the kiss.

Not a surprise. Dinah mentioned that Jackson had memories of my first kiss with her in the store.

And then, tied to Chipper’s collar:She loved the door.

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