Page 14 of Change of Course

“It was amazing,” I confess. “Frankly, it always was, but now it’s better.”

She keeps laughing, but not at me. “Cheri, I’m so happy for you. Really. Now get your ass down here and shake it on the dance floor! And bring Jackson. Promise?”

I promise. I hang up.

And then I look full into Jackson’s face. “So I told Courtney…which means that the rest of the squad is going to know in about thirty seconds. So do you want to go back to the reunion with me and let everybody see that we’re together?”

He takes a deep breath. “You mean that?”

“Of course I mean it. But Jackson…” I bite my lip. “You’re going to be living in Pittsburgh. How do we do this?”

“Oh,” he says, like he’s just remembered something, blinking hard. “Oh, I guess I didn’t finish telling you.” His shoulders relax, and he sits back down on the end of the bed, reaching for my hand. “I’ve applied for a job here, with the city division of public works. I’m scheduled for a final interview this week, and I hope I get it.” He smiles, and I melt all over again. “And if I don’t get it, I’ll pursue opportunities close by. I’ve changed the course of my life, and I’m coming home, Cherry.”

“To be with me,” I say, trying it out.

“To be with you,” he says. “Cherry and Jax forever. Right?”

“Jax and Cherry forever,” I tell him.

And then we go back downstairs to the tail end of the reunion party, and I go in on his arm.

I’m Jackson’s girl, and it’s time everybody knew.

EPILOGUE

CHERI, five years later

“And you’ll be okay?” I ask my mom again. “You’ll call me if you need anything?”

“Absolutely,” she says.

“There are plenty of diapers on the changing table,” I repeat. “And did I show you how to turn on the monitor?”

“I know how,” my mother says, raising an eyebrow. “We’ll be fine. We will be just fine. You’re #1 on my speed dial, and Jackson is #2. Yes, I have the pediatrician’s number. Yes, I can dial 9-1-1. Yes, I have experience with little girls, and Amanda and I will have a wonderful time.”

My sexy husband comes into the living room holding our giggling two-year-old daughter in his arms, and immediately becomes even sexier. “Here she is! Princess Amanda, coming in for a Grammy landing!” He flies the baby—okay, fine, she’s two, I shouldn’t call her a baby anymore—over to my mom and lands her in Mom’s arms, and all three of them are laughing so it makes me smile too.

It’s not the first time my mother has babysat her only grandchild, but it is the first time we’ve both been gone overnight since she was born. I just hope everything is fine here while we’re at our 20th reunion, because this is my world. My mother and my husband and my sweet kid.

“Wow. You look great,” Jackson says to me. “Have I seen you in that before?”

I shake my head. “Nope. Consignment store—Anthropologie from a few seasons ago.”

It’s a long, dark green satin column dress, with a ruched and twisted bodice that leaves a little keyhole in the front, through which it’s apparent I am not wearing a bra. Other than the keyhole, it’s modest in front, but it pretty much has no back at all, and dips low enough to make you wonder whether I’m wearing underwear.

(I am, but you do wonder.)

“And you look great too,” I tell him, reaching over to smooth the lapel of his charcoal-gray suit jacket.

“Gotta match my Cherry,” he says, grinning.

My mother inhales sharply, and we both look at her. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is open, and she is ignoring the way Amanda is pulling at her glasses.

“Cherry lip gloss,” Jackson says. It’s a half-truth, but there’s no point shocking my mother.

“Down peas,” Amanda says, and leans over until Mom has to either set her down or let her throw herself at the floor.

“Be good for Grammy, sweetheart,” I say, crouching to give her a quick kiss and get back up before she can grab me with possibly sticky (but undeniably sweet) toddler fingers.

---