Left alone with Gloria, essentially, since the other two humans with us are sleeping, I shrug. “Never a dull moment, huh?”
“Don’t let Lucy bother you. She’s from Texas.”
I chuckle at that explanation, appreciating the support.
“You’re exactly the type of woman Jet needs in his life. A stable, grounding force. Not some bimbo trollop who’s going to cheat on him and leave him for someone else on the team.”
Huh?
Oblivious to my befuddlement, she plows on, “And it’s nice that you have your own career. It displays an important sense of self and independence. But it’s good that you’re not too committed to it, since you won’t be able to keep it forever.”
I gulp, hardly able to believe what I’m hearing. “Okay. Thanks. I mean…” I scratch my head near the base of my ponytail. “Hm.”
“Being the CEO of a brand like Jet Knox is a full-time job.”
Blinking, I replay that sentence in my head and verify that, yes, she called her son a “brand.” And put me in charge of “it.”
I nervously chuckle and trace my finger along the pinstripes in the picnic blanket. “Well, he has people for all of that.”
“None of them will be more important than you. You’ll be his main person.”
Past the lump in my throat, I say, “Wow. So. You’ve thought a lot about this, I can tell.”
She shrugs and says, while watching the tableau on the playground, “I’ve worked hard to get my son to this point. I can’t have all my hard work undermined by someone who doesn’t take his gift seriously enough. He’s better off alone than with the wrong person.” She smiles down at me. “But the good news is, you would be perfect. I’ve told Jet that.”
“Oh. Uh, great. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. My opinion is important to him, especially since I was right about that woman. But she had him fooled, and he loved her, so he had to learn the hard way. He won’t make that mistake again.”
Oh. My. Gosh.
The mama’s boy rolls onto his belly and turns his head sideways on his arms, his eyes fluttering open, followed by a sheepish smile. “Oops. Was I snoring?”
I shake my head, wishing my nausea would abate. When it doesn’t, though, I scramble to my feet and mumble, “I have to use the bathroom. Be right back.” Putting some distance between myself and that blanket helps somewhat, so by the time I get to the cement block public toilet house, I’m no longer in danger of puking or hyperventilating. I use the facilities, wash my hands, and splash water on my face.
As I’m patting my cheeks, blotting my forehead, and swiping the mascara from under my eyes, Gidget enters the building with her oldest, Brianna.
“Bladder the size of a pea,” she explains, pushing her daughter toward an open stall, before looking more closely at me.
I smile shakily.
“Uh-oh. What did Ma say?”
Instinctively, I shake my head. “Nothing. No. It’s not—”
She tilts her head in a mannerism so reminiscent of Jet it makes me want to cry. “You’re freaking out.”
“It’s nothing. I must have gotten too much sun.”
“No, you were fine before we all left you alone with her. We agreed ahead of time not to let that happen, and here we’ve failed on the second damn day. I’m so sorry.”
Brianna emerges from the stall and tries to run out without washing her hands. Gidget stops her and oversees the scrubbing before giving her daughter permission to return to the playground without us, since the path between here and there is in full view of our party.
Then Gidget leans against the sink, crosses her arms over her chest, and demands, “Tell me.”
“It’s all a little intense, that’s all.” I toss my damp paper towel at the trash hole in the counter. “A few months ago, my life was ridiculously simple. That’s how I liked it. Now, I’m half of ‘Jetaura.’ A name I hate, by the way.”
“Isn’t it the worst? I guess it’s better than Met or Jaura. But I wish those couple names would die a swift death. When I saw yours and Jet’s, I actually said, ‘Ew!’ out loud.”
I laugh, relieved amusement is still a possibility and grateful to Gidget for reawakening it. Riding that gratitude, I say, “I love your brother.”
“That much is obvious.”
“What’s not to love, right?”
She chuckles. “Well, he’s stubborn, spoiled rotten, and has a horrible memory. Don’t expect him to ever remember your anniversary. You know, if it ever comes to that,” she adds quickly.
“Yeah,” I say to my shoes.
Snapping her fingers, she says, “That’s it, isn’t it? Ma’s already married you off to him?”
I nod.
“That’s just her way. She’s been trying to offload him since college. Don’t let her—or anyone—rush you. Marriage is a big commitment. Marriage to someone like my brother comes with a whole set of issues the rest of us don’t have to worry about. It takes a special person to handle that. Only you know if you’re that person.”
“That’s just it; I don’t know.”
“You’ll figure it out. But don’t let anyone else’s opinions influence your self-assessment. Not Ma’s, not the public’s, not even Jet’s. You have to make the decision based on what you know of yourself and how you feel about Jet.”
Suddenly I don’t want to talk about it anymore, especially not with this person I barely know. The fact that she’s his sister makes it even more inappropriate. Blushing, I jam my hands in my pockets. “Gosh. I’m so sorry. This is weird. You shouldn’t have to talk about your family like this to me. You hardly know me.”
“I like you, Maura. We all do, for what it’s worth.”
“Thanks.”
“You make Jet happy. We love that big goober.”
“I do, too.”
“Maybe that’s good enough.”
When I snort and shoot her a skeptical look, she pats my arm. “It might really be that simple. Why overthink it?”
Twenty-Three
Draft Day Doubts
That disturbing conversation with Jet’s mom hasn’t been forgotten, but it’s faded to something less
