Page 79 of The Naughty List
“You okay?” I watch his face for any telltale signs he wants to back out of this.
He nods. “I’m good. Just wish I’d done this a long time ago.” He squeezes my hand. “Thanks for coming with me.”
I squeeze his hand in response.
We walk arm in arm to the front door, neither of us missing the ramp to the left of the stairs. I ring the bell. There’s movement inside and the gray and white striped curtains covering the window shift noticeably.
I hear Jonah inhale deeply as the door swings open.
An attractive redhead around my age with whiskey-colored eyes and a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose opens the door.
“You must be Jonah,” she greets us. “And…”
“Hollis,” I offer.
“I’m Jen. Joey’s sister. Come on in,” she says, stepping back so we can enter.
The house smells clinically clean, like a doctor’s office or a hospital room. There’s a scented candle burning somewhere and possibly coffee brewing, but neither masks the medicinal scent permeating the air.
“Joey just finishing bathing. He’ll be out momentarily.” She glances toward the kitchen. “Can I get either of you something to drink? I have coffee.”
Jonah’s answering smile is tight. He’s nervous. “I’m good. Thank you, though.”
“We have a long drive home,” I tell her. “I’d better pass or we’ll have to stop half a dozen times.”
“Please, have seat.” She smiles warmly. “I’ll go check on Joey.”
As we lower ourselves onto a comfy gray couch, I reach over and wrap my hand around Jonah’s bicep, giving it a small squeeze for moral support.
He glances at me just as a stocky man with ink-black hair wheels himself into the room. He wears a pale blue button-down shirt and khaki pants. His hair appears to be in need of a cut but a definite effort was made to style it. I can’t help but wonder if it was for our benefit.
My stomach tightens as I feel the tension and guilt rolling through Jonah.
“Forgive me for not standing to greet you,” the man, Joey I’m assuming, says.
He’s younger than I pictured, but definitely has a few years on Jonah judging from the gray tinting his temples.
The silence is thick and heavy.
“It’s a joke, man,” he says, chuckling lightly. “Did you lose your sense of humor along with your looks?”
Jonah shakes his head. “I should’ve come by sooner.”
The man scoffs at him. “For what?”
Jonah shrugs. “To apologize in person. To see if you needed anything. To help out. Something.”
Jen steps out from behind Joey’s chair. “You do a lot, Jonah. We appreciate it. The house. The in-home nurse visits.”
Joey watches us closely. “I used to watch you fight. I bragged to the guys I play basketball with, telling them I was your first opponent.”
He’s trying to ease the tension, but Jonah can’t relax. His back is straight and his shoulders are rigid.
I nudge him gently.
“I think I’m done fighting now,” Jonah says quietly.
Joey nods. “I caught the New Year’s Eve event. You definitely still have one hell of a left hook.”
