Eversea A Love Story

request for spackling and sandpaper. His handwriting looked like he’d missed his calling to be a doctor.
    We hadn’t talked about whether he’d continue working on the house Sunday and I hadn’t had a chance to tell him about Jasper coming by.
    I decided to run over to The Pig to get his groceries while most people were in church. Driving straight to his place afterward, I piled the bags outside his door. I rang the bell, and without waiting for a response, maturely hopped down the stairs and back into my truck. It was only when I pulled out of the driveway and noticed his bike wasn’t there that I realized what an ass I was being. I quickly grabbed my phone and texted him.
    Me: Your groceries are outside your front door. Sorry I had to run, a friend coming over for lunch today.
    My phone chirped back by the time I got to the end of the street.
    Late Night Visitor: Thank you.
    I hated the prick of disappointment I experienced at his simple text.
    * * *
    When Jasper arrived at lunchtime armed with my favorite chicken salad and ‘everything’ on nine grain, I thought I might finally have reached a calm and stoic state of mind.
    “Wow, you’ve gotten so much done,” Jasper said as he walked around the house.
    “Yep, been working hard,” I said from the kitchen where I busied myself getting plates so I didn’t have to meet his eye. “Grab some waters, would ya? Let’s sit on the porch swing, it’s a stunning day.”
    We headed outside and chatted comfortably on the swing as we ate, although he did look at me curiously while I picked out the onions on my sandwich. I loved onions. I noticed what I was doing and resolutely stuffed one of them back into what was left.
    “So there’s a guy?”
    “What? No!” Jeez, I’d have expected that kind of pointed observation from Jazz. The fact that Jasper noticed meant I was definitely not fooling anyone, or maybe Jazz had told him about Hoodie Guy.
    “Right. Do I know him?”
    I sighed. “No, you don’t. And it’s not like that anyway.”
    “You mean for you or for him?”
    “For either of us. He’s the one who’s helping with the inside of the house.” At least I could come clean about that.
    “Keri Ann, I know I’m not your best friend, but you know you can talk to me, right? I wish I could take back that kiss two years ago. I totally made it awkward between us, which I regret. You should know there’s someone else I like, a lot, so if you need to talk to me about anything, you don’t need to worry about hurting my feelings.”
    I looked at him, surprised. Liz?
    “Don’t ask me who it is Keri Ann, I’m not ready to even talk about it.”
    I grinned. “Well, I’m not ready to talk about this guy either.”
    “Ok, then, so we agree not to talk. Awesome. We’re so healthy.” He laughed.
    “Is she the reason you decided to go to law school so nearby?” I asked.
    He looked off into the front yard, and sighed. “Yeah, partly. But also, I need to keep an eye on Dad. I’m sure you’ve noticed he has a slight weakness of the alcohol variety.”
    I nodded. “What does your mom say?”
    “Well, apparently it’s not the first time. Now that I know that, I have vague recollections as a kid before he got some help. Let’s just say, I’d like to stick around.”
    I’d had a feeling that was why.
    Part of the reason I stopped going to church, aside from how angry I was at God for letting Mom and Dad die, was that Nana didn’t go.
    One summer when we were visiting, I may have only been eight or so, I overheard Nana and my mother arguing quietly. Nana said something that, at the time I didn’t understand, about Mrs. McDaniel not doing a good enough job of hiding the marks if she expected Nana not to get involved. She had never elaborated, but it stuck in my mind, especially when I went to Church every Sunday with my parents after we moved to Butler Cove permanently.
    I felt bad for Jasper and laid my hand on his arm just as I heard the rumble of a motorcycle in the street. Jack, with his helmet on, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a white t-shirt, slowed to a stop beyond the front picket fence. Before I could react or even let out the breath I’d sucked in, he kicked the bike into a roar and headed off. Hot blood rushed to my cheeks as I realized I’d snatched my hand off Jasper’s arm.
    Jasper laughed. “It’s not like that , my ass.”
    Oh shit. I had it bad. It would be obvious to anyone who knew me.
    “Shut it, Jasper. Otherwise,