Page 32 of Golden Hour

“Fine,” she says. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“It would never work. Between us.”

“I agree,” she says with no hesitation.

“First off, you’re way too good for me.”

She says an “Um-hmm” as we drive.

“Second, you’re my family business’s employee.”

“Also true.”

“Plus, I’m just mean. Inside and out.”

She shakes her head with indignation. “I disagree with you there, Jackson. You have a gooey center. Like those fancy nut clusters you get at Christmas.”

“Just call me Nutty,” I joke. A laugh leaves my lips, and I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much in one concentrated period.

“Like I said, I would crack you like a walnut,” she says. “If we’re going with nicknames, I like the nickname Wally more.”

I chuckle again. “Okay, we’re onto nicknames. You’re Sunny from now on.”

“Fair enough.” She looks out the window. I’ve never met anyone like her. “Sunny and Wally, dog walking Extraordinaires. Sounds like a sitcom.”

Am I smiling, joking? “We’ll have ten seasons.”

Shiloh shakes her head. “The best shows stop at six.”

The dog pops up with its long tongue wagging. Shiloh rubs the dog’s ear. “Do you like car rides? Are they your favorite?”

The dog tries to climb over the console into the front seat, and I block it with my arm. The dog whines in frustration.

“I think you should go out with your siblings. I think it would be fun. Would make a great episode.”

The dog nudges against me, giving me another wet willie, and for a moment, I forget about everything. My existence centers around Shiloh, the dog, and Mandy Moore.

For the first time in years, a true smile crosses my lips.

Being home and drinking by myself was getting boring anyway. It won’t be that bad. My siblings will protect me.

“Promise me you’ll go,” she says.

“I promise.”

We smile at each other, and she pats my hand again, letting it rest on top of mine for a beat too long.

Friends, that’s all we are. All we can be.

12

Shiloh

The sun is setting as I walk into my grandfather’s house. I’ve been taking so many deep breaths to help with the sadness I feel for Carrie and her family. It must crush her she can’t take care of Koda, her dad’s beloved dog. We will find an amazing home for that animal.

I told her as such when I gave her a hug, and she put her hand on my cheek.

“Thank you,” she said, pulling me in for another embrace.

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