“I can’t wait.” He escorted me to the door, opening it up so I could step out onto his porch.
The red brick exterior of his house was trimmed with white. The square pillars around the porch were thick and adorned with gables. A weaving vine snaked up the far corner to the second floor. All that was missing were two white rocking chairs and this porch would be the perfect place to watch children play in the front yard.
“See you Sunday.” Cole bent down and kissed my cheek.
“Bye.” I stepped outside but paused, looking over my shoulder. “Thank you.” I swallowed hard. “Thank you for kissing me. For being the one.”
His eyes softened. “It will always be me.”
I hope so. I gave him a tiny smile before turning and walking to my car. With a quick wave, I pulled away from the curb and drove straight home. But instead of taking the shower that I’d planned, I went inside and flopped on my bed. Then I grabbed Jamie’s picture off my nightstand.
I stroked his face in the frame.
His smiling face, frozen under the glass, soothed the ache in my chest. Jamie would never want me to be sad. He wouldn’t want me to be alone. If he couldn’t be here with me, then he’d want me to find happiness.
I knew it down to my bones.
I set down the frame and dug into my purse next to me on the bed. With Jamie’s journal and a pen in hand, I flipped to his Jell-O page and checked the box.
We’re almost done, Jamie. Just a few things left to do.
I closed the journal and hugged it to my chest. I’d cried myself out at Cole’s, so I just smiled.
Was Jamie somewhere, looking down and smiling too? Was he glad that I was doing the things he’d wanted to most? I hoped that this list was his way of guiding me through the grief. I hoped that this was his way of helping me say good-bye.
I hoped that this was his way of leading me to a new life.
One filled with smiles. With laughter.
One filled with love.
Two days later, the green had vanished from my skin and I was at Jimmy’s apartment, filling up biodegradable water balloons with paint. I’d spent the last thirty minutes working up the courage to tell him about me and Cole so he wouldn’t be surprised when we arrived at the park later this afternoon.
“So, um . . . I invited Cole to do this paint fight with us.”
“Yeah, I know.” His fingers were covered in blue paint as he tied a balloon closed. “I remember when you told me the same a week ago. Are you worried I’m getting senile or something? Because I’m not. No matter what that asshole Randall says, my head’s as clear as it was when I was your age, got it?”
“Got it.” I giggled, tying off my red balloon and dropping it in the tub with the others. “But I wanted to tell you something else. Cole’s not just a friend helping on Jamie’s truck. We’re kind of dating.”
“You really do think I’m senile.” He chuckled. “Relax, Poppy. I figured as much.”
“You did?” I gaped at him as he filled another balloon.
He nodded. “You talk about him a lot. Seems like you spend a lot of time together. Molly told me he comes into the restaurant most nights. I’m old, not blind. I assumed there was something more going on with you two.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
He shook his head, dropping the paint bottle in his hands to give me his full attention. “I just want you to be happy. And if you like this guy, I’m all for it.”
“You think it’s okay to start dating again?”
Maybe it was because Jimmy and Jamie had been so close, but I needed Jimmy’s blessing. It was the closest thing I had to Jamie’s blessing. I needed him to tell me that it was okay to date Cole.
He nodded. “I don’t just think it’s okay. I think it’s time. Five years, Poppy. It’s time to move on. And you know just as well as I do that Jamie would want that for you too.”
I looked down at my paint-covered fingers. “Thank you,” I whispered. He couldn’t know how many fears and anxieties he’d just eased.
His blue hand closed over mine. “It’s the truth.”
I looked up at him and smiled.
“Are you two ready to go or what?” Randall grumbled from the hallway as he walked into Jimmy’s room. “I want to get this over with so I can be back in time for dinner.”
I started filling another balloon. “Just a few more of these and then we can go.”
“Fine,” Randall muttered as he came into the kitchenette. He was wearing head-to-toe coveralls, and in one gloved hand was a shower cap.
“Look at this guy.” Jimmy rolled his eyes. “A jumpsuit? Really? You pansy. It’s just a little paint.”
“I’m not wrecking my clothes. Some of us take pride in our appearance.” Randall’s eyes narrowed as he and Jimmy went into one of their usual stare-downs.
Jimmy came to The Maysen Jar with Randall nearly every day now, and one thing I’d learned was that they lived to bicker. Those two would come to the restaurant midmorning and argue about anything until well past lunch.
At first, I’d tried to intervene—to play peacemaker—but after my fiftieth failed attempt, I’d given up.
So I just shook my head and kept filling my balloon. “Can you at least save the fight for the park, gentlemen?”
“Always taking his side,” Randall muttered and turned around to the living room.
“She’s my granddaughter!” Jimmy called to his back. “Of course, she takes my side.” He looked to me. “What a dumbass.”
“You two are worse than little kids.”
Jimmy chuckled and waved me closer to whisper, “Look.”
He double-checked that Randall was out of sight, then reached into a cabinet. Out came a full-sized balloon, ten
