Page 65 of Lead Me On
“I missed you,” he said, sincerity in his eyes. Jane didn’t know if he was referring to jail or the fact that she hadn’t seen him for nearly six months before his arrest.
“Jessie!” Olive yelled from a back room. “Is that Dynasty?”
“Yes, Grandma!” he shouted as he waved Jane in. He glanced over his shoulder before he spoke again. “Can I stay with you?”
“Me?” Jane yelped. “Why?”
“I don’t like it here. Grandma doesn’t wear clothes to bed.”
“Well, jeez, she doesn’t make you sleep with her, does she?”
“No, she makes me sleep on the couch, which would be fine if she didn’t wander out for a snack every night at 2:00 a.m.!”
The woman herself appeared, fully clothed, thankfully. “You complaining about my birthday suit again, boy?”
“Grandma,” Jessie whined.
“If you don’t air out your plumbing, you get mildew. Everyone knows that.”
“Oh, God,” Jane muttered. “Just put on a robe, woman.”
“This is my house!” Grandma Olive snapped. “If you’re so concerned about his innocent eyes, take him in yourself.”
Jane gritted her teeth, knowing full well what was coming.
“Oh, but you won’t do that, will you? You don’t want some dirty thief living inyourhouse. You’re too high and mighty for that. Still, I guess high and mighty is better than what you used to be.”
“Jessie—” Jane ground out the words “—are you ready to go?”
They both darted for the door, while Grandma Olive shouted for them to pick up peanut butter and milk on their way home.
“Can I please come stay with you?” Jessie begged, but Jane shook her head.
“Nope. I’m not getting on Mac’s bad side. He was right to let you stew, to give you some time to think about what you’ve done.”
“I’m thinking about it now,” Jess muttered.
“I’ll buy you a sleep mask,” she offered. Let him sleep on Grandma Olive’s couch for a few weeks and realize the value of working hard enough to afford his own place. He’d had his personal space in Mac’s basement. There’d been no reason for him to work hard and get out. But now, faced with the specter of prison or more of Grandma Olive’s birthday suit, maybe he’d think about going straight.
Jessie reached for the stereo and fiddled with it until he found a rock station that was only slightly fuzzy with interference from the mountains. She wanted to ask what his plans were, what he wanted to do with his life, but that conversation could wait until they knew just how much prison time he faced. Right now it would be cruel to ask him to consider it.
“I didn’t think Mom should’ve bailed you out, but I’m glad to see you anyway.”
“Thanks,” he said, sounding only half-sarcastic. After a few moments of silence, Jessie cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I ruined your birthday.”
“It’s okay.”
They rode in silence the rest of the way to the lawyer’s office, the Foo Fighters keeping them company.
The receptionist ushered them into the conference room, and Jane’s heart slumped a little when she saw Peter Chase.
Not because of his appearance—he looked really good—but because he sat at the table alone.
Jane hadn’t heard from Chase in several days now, and it felt like an eternity. “Jessie, this is Mr. Peter Chase, our investigator.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Chase,” Jessie said, impressing Jane with his lack of slacker ennui.
Chase’s dad really did look good as he pushed to his feet to shake Jessie’s hand. There was healthy color in his cheeks and a robustness in his movements that had been missing before. Maybe Chase was wrong about him. Maybe he really was on the mend.
