Page 48 of Beautifully Wounded

Chapter Thirty-Two

Lena

Iwas a little hesitant about getting out of the car. Going to the grocery store was one thing, but being out on the street with so many people frightened me a bit. Jackson walked beside me, his hand at the small of my back, coaxing me down the alley toward the music of the marching band. I did not, for a second, relax the entire time his fingers guided me along. The pressure of his touch on my back was exhilarating, a somewhat new emotion, or at least one I hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

We headed up the sidewalk, weaving our way through the wall-to-wall people facing the street. We found a spot by the curb to stand and watch. The band blasted out Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe,” and the cheers and shouts of all the onlookers rang through the very core of my body. People danced on the sidewalk and in the street behind the band. Everyone cheered even louder when the bandleader threw her baton up in the air and caught it without missing a beat.

Behind the band came a fire truck decorated with American flags. Several attractive firefighters hung on the outside, waving their hands, and a Dalmatian barked with excitement. It looked like a scene taken right out of a Norman Rockwell picture.

Jackson yelled out to someone in the parade, “Hey, Donkey!” He laughed and splayed his hands out in front of him, palms up in a ‘what the hell?’ type of gesture. Jackson shook his head. I looked up to see Brodie standing across the street outside of Jackson’s bar. I assumed the donkey reference sparked from the conversation they’d had about me the other day when Jackson told Brodie he was an ass.

A little while later, Jackson yelled out, “Yo, Grail!” and gave the guy on the float a thumbs up. “Lookin’ good, Grail!” he added before leaning his head close to mine. “That is our illustrious new mayor and a good friend of mine, Tom Grail. He’s only twenty-eight and used to come into the bar a lot when my uncle owned it. He still comes in, but not as much now. ‘Mayoral duties.’” Jackson raised both hands and wiggled his two fingers in the air as he said the words mayoral duties. “The ‘Holy Grail,’ that’s what a lot of people call him nowadays. He has done a lot for this small town. Good things too.” Jackson got this little gleam in his eye when he spoke about his friend. He never seemed to hide any emotions from me. I liked that. It revealed so much about him, and I admired his candidness.

More shouts and cheers rang out around us as a small float, looking something like a giant turtle, came into view. The town’s mascot, I presumed. The turtle’s head bobbed up and down, swaying from side to side. “Oh my God!” I said as streams of confetti spewed from the turtle’s mouth and fell from the sky around us. Tiny strands of paper and red, purple, orange, and green dots attached themselves to our hair and clothes. Jackson scooped me up in his arms, twirling me around and around. I giggled uncontrollably, and when he put me back on the ground, he kissed me.

And time stopped for a few seconds.

I think for both of us.

The kiss ended almost as quickly as it started. He pulled away, dropping his arms to his sides, realizing what he’d done. The music, the shouts, the cheers around us became a sound in the distance as we simply stared at each other. It hadn’t been a long kiss, more a peck, really, but a kiss nonetheless.

The rest of the parade seemed to happen in a fog for me as all I could think about after that was Jackson’s kiss and what it had meant. Small as it was and most likely insignificant to him, I didn’t quite know how to interpret it. I’m sure it was nothing more than a fun little kiss to show his excitement about the parade, but then why did he suddenly push me away and stare at me? Maybe I’d been giving it too much importance, but it stirred something in me. Something I wanted to experience again, and perhaps a little longer next time. That thought scared me. I couldn’t let myself fall for Jackson. I had to keep running.

After about another thirty minutes, the parade came to an end. “We should get going.” Jackson turned to go, and I followed. “It’s going to get a little crazy around here,” he shouted over his shoulder, then took my hand in his. “Stay close.”

We weaved in and out of people. I almost had to run to keep up with Jackson’s long stride. He didn’t stop or slow down even when we came to a group of teenagers taking up the entire sidewalk. He simply headed for the street and hurried around them. I almost tripped on the curb, and thought I heard someone call my name. I tensed and turned to look behind me. Who would be calling me here in this town? “Lena!” I heard again but couldn’t see anyone I knew. I started to panic but then thought maybe it was Leslie, but she knew me as Lana, not Lena. Besides Jackson, she was the only one who knew me here, other than Brodie and Doc, and it was a female voice. “Lena!” There it was again, and I turned to see a woman grabbing a little girl about eight years old by the hand. “Lia! Please don’t walk so far ahead in this crowd. I don’t want to lose you.”

I released a huge breath of relief and fought to keep up with Jackson. She’d been shouting for Lia, not Lena. My jittery soul could relax, but not too much, I reminded myself. Troy had a magical talent for finding people who wanted to stay hidden.

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