Page 86 of Kiss Marry Kill
She shook her head. “What are you up to?”
“These’ll do, then. Meet you in my backyard in ten minutes.”
She didn’t understand what they were going to do, but she didn’t care. So long as it was something they did together, she knew she wouldn’t regret it.
Ten minutes later, Megan walked out in clothes she had to tie a knot in to keep from slipping off and saw Jax picking up two very long boards.
“What’s that? Surfing?”
“Nope. Paddleboard.”
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to try. Is it hard?”
“Nah . . .”
* * *
It was midday, and Megan had fallen off the paddleboard too many times already. She was completely done with this stupid strenuous activity. Jax, on the other hand, was standing on top of a red board, parallel to her, holding the paddle in one hand and maintaining a conversation as if it wasn’t the hardest thing ever.
“Ten more minutes and then we go, okay?” Megan said.
“Fine.”
“How long do you normally stay at the cemetery when you visit?”
He shrugged. “Never been.”
“Pardon?” she said, almost falling off her board.
“I’ve never been to the cemetery.”
Wide-eyed, open mouthed, she repeated, “pardon?”
Letting out a big huff of air, he carefully dropped down on his board, linking his legs around hers so as to not drift off. “I know, I know,” he said, solemnly. “I’ve never visited my dad’s grave. It’s just . . . it’s hard, Meg, you know?”
“Jackson, he was your dad. You two were super close.”
“I don’t think it’s really necessary to have to go to the gravesite. I mean, I think about him all the time and—”
“You had it on your list, which means it’s been weighing on you. It’s time you did this. You have to do this, Jackson.”
“He’s the only person I’ve known to have ever died. I’ve never been to a cemetery before.”
“Neither have I. But I’ll be there. We’ll go together, and you can say whatever you want, or not say anything at all. But you’ve got to go.”
He rubbed his palm over his bald head and sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
After swimming to the shore, walking back to his house, and quickly changing clothes, they drove to the cemetery, which was surprisingly close to Jax’s house.
“Should I . . .” Megan pointed over her shoulder to a bench on the far side of his father’s spot.
“No, come with me. I need to get this over with.”
Once they found the site, Megan just stood there, unsure what to do. She’d never had anyone close to her pass away. But the tension radiating from him made her heart break, so she decided to take the lead. Without hesitation, she placed the small bunch of wildflowers they’d purchased into the vase by the marble stone with his father’s name. Then she sat on the patch of grass right by the site, Jax looking down on her silently.
“Hi, Mr. Irons. I’m Megan Cruz. I’m friends with your son, Jackson,” she said, looking up at Jax expectantly. When he still didn’t speak she continued. “I haven’t known Jax all that long, Mr. Irons, but what I’ve learned, I like. A whole lot. I think a lot of it has to do with the kind of father you were to him. He’s a good person and with what he’s told me, you wanted him to be happy. I’ve never met someone like him before. I can’t tell you whether he’s happy or not, although by the smile he always has on his face, I would venture to say he is. I can also tell you, Mr. Irons, that he makes other people happy. He’s made me very happy these last few days. So, for that, I thank you.” Again she looked up at Jax, his eyes watery. He cleared his throat and looked away.
“Hey, Meg, you think . . . maybe I can have a minute with my pop?”
