Page 97 of Give Me a Shot

Some boyfriend.

He pushed off his bed, headed to the shower. There was even more sharp, painful static to wash away.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jess

The following Saturday, Jess started the morning early, but not bright. The drive to Rockford to finally go see her parents would take hours, plenty of time to regret going at all.

I’ll try to land this time. Just like I told Mo, I’ll make the mental effort to feel like I’m home. Maybe this time it will stick.

She took another long swig of coffee from her travel mug and started off, paying close attention to the GPS. A low-level grumbling started inside gnawing at the cautious optimism she was trying to maintain. She reminded herself that Alice and Steph thought a visit was a good idea. She trusted her friends’ perspectives enough to try.

But realistically, there’s no way for this to go well.

At least she could visit Cassie’s grave. Jess hadn’t been able to make it back in time for the funeral, in spite of begging her department to advance her dissertation defense by a few weeks or even do it remotely. Neither she nor her parents could have afforded for her to return to England to do it later. Once she’d returned, she hadn’t been able to muster the strength to go to the cemetery. This time, she felt she could do it. Pulling onto I-96, she fiddled with the radio to find something she could stand listening to, but her heart wasn’t in it. In her frustration, she reminded herself of Alice and Stephanie’s arguments in favor of this visit. They always tried their best to understand, but their relationships with their parents were different. Theycould actuallytalkabout things. The opposite was true of Jess’s parents, for whom appearance mattered more than anything else. Jess sighed.

At least Mo said I can reach out anytime if I need to.

After a while, the music was irritating her more than anything else. She turned it off and listened to the sound of the tires on the pavement, the engine purring as it should. But she felt terribly alone. Most people felt happy or at least content to go back home, welcomed by their families, excited to share the things that were going on in their lives. Instead she was going someplace where no one understood her. A place where she was too opinionated, too direct, too ambitious, too athletic, too serious, too combative with her words when she stood up for herself. Where she was all-around the wrong kind of person.

Except for Cassie.

Even with her softer, meeker nature, Cassie had always made it clear that she thought Jess was just the right kind of person. From making sure their parents knew that Jess helped her to get good grades, or lauding Jess’s achievements to her friends, to helping Jess come up with the arguments to get their parents to support Jess’s studies abroad—Cassie always embraced who Jess was, valued Jess’s feelings and opinions, and made sure she had fun and knew she was loved.

Tears welled in Jess’s eyes. Blinking them away, she set her mind on something else. Mo had offered to join her on this foolhardy expedition, but she’d declined. Now she was regretting it. Mo’s simple presence was comforting. Even without speaking. And when he was around, the heaviness essentially disappeared. She caught herself smiling a little. If nothing else, Mo’s size might have intimidated her father enough to rein in his critical nature. But she didn’t want to share that part of her life with her parents. The less they knew about her, the better.

—

Too many hours later, and with her stomach rumbling, Jess pulled into the driveway in front of her parents’ pointlessly bighouse—an ostentatious two-story with a finished basement, seven bedrooms, and a double garage. Her mother had been killing herself for years to keep it clean because even though he could afford to hire a housekeeper, her father—who could not abide dust or smudges—didn’t want astrangertouching his things. The house was a metaphor for their family: pretty on the outside but lacking love and warmth on the inside.

Appearances, appearances.

As she parked, she caught the blinds moving at the window beside the door. She wasn’t all the way out of the car before the front door of the house opened and her mom stepped outside. She was smiling but wringing her hands over her floral apron.

“Jess! Jess, I’m so happy you came,” she said, staying on the porch as Jess approached.

“Hi, Mom,” Jess said, reaching her and giving her an awkward hug.

“Oh dear,” her mom said, taking Jess’s face in both hands. “Is everything all right? You look so thin.” She pulled her hands away and stepped back to look Jess up and down.

“Everything’s fine,” Jess said.

Because that’s what her mom always wanted. For everything to be “fine.”

Her mom took her hand.

“If you’re sure,” she said.

“I am,” Jess said, letting her mom guide her into the house.

Okay, time to “land.” Time to be back home.

Inside, everything was precisely the same, though Jess hadn’t had any other expectations. She took a deep breath. Her mom had been cooking, and while the food smelled good at first, the hunger Jess had been battling quickly twisted into an acidic feeling. She was glad she’d been careful to pack her medication. Following her mom into the kitchen, Jess transformed her grimace into a slight smile as her mom turned around.

“Everything’s almost ready. I made a brisket and mashed potatoes, your favorite,” she said to Jess.

The acid in Jess’s stomach surged, but she didn’t let it show. Ameal that heavy would leave her miserable for days, and those foods hadn’t been her favorites for years. She’d told her mother so at each of her last three visits. But no use hurting her feelings.

---