Ten …
Slowly, her pulse returned to normal, but the alarm had left her feeling worn out and dented. Turning her phone facedown on the table, Jess reached for the bottle of wine and poured, stopping only when the liquid formed a glossy meniscus at the lip of the glass.
“Wow.” Pops whistled. “Everything okay over there?”
“Yup.” Jess bent down, sucking the first sip so that she could lift the glass without spilling. It’s my birthday, she thought. I’m getting smashed.
Pops shared a look with Nana before he turned to Juno. “Miss Junebug?” he said.
She slurped a spaghetti noodle into her mouth. “Hmm?”
“Think you could go back to my place and find my glasses? There were a few crossword clues I needed your mama’s help with.”
Juno’s chair screeched away from the table, and she squinted suspiciously, pointing a marinara-tipped finger at him. “Don’t have cake without me.”
“Wouldn’t dare.”
They watched as she raced out the back door and through the courtyard to the bungalow, Pigeon trailing behind her.
“Well, that bought us about thirty seconds,” Nana said with a laugh.
“I’ll give her sixty.” Pops reached into the pocket of his sweater and pulled his glasses from the case. He gave Jess a teasing wink before slipping them on. “Now, it’s your birthday, Jessica.” He leaned in, pretending to study her. His eyes were pale, watery, full of love. “What’s this face? Does it have to do with me picking you up earlier? The man outside?”
“No.”
“He sure did seem upset when we drove off.”
“He’s a jerk, but this isn’t about him.” If it were just about River and his stupid test, this would be easy. Jess had deleted the app and could ignore him at Twiggs. Done.
But it wasn’t nearly that simple.
“What is it, then?” Nana Jo asked.
Jess leaned her elbows on the table and propped her head in her hands. It weighed about eighty pounds. “Oh … just life.” She picked up her phone again, opening it before handing it over to let them read the Jennings email. “This was one of my bigger accounts. We disagreed on how to move forward, and they’re letting me go.”
Nana’s face fell and she placed her hand on Jess’s. “I’m so sorry, sugar.”
“Money can be fixed,” Pops said. “We’ll always help you.”
Jess squeezed his hand in wordless thanks. They had raised Jamie and Jess, and now helped with Juno. She was supposed to be taking care of them at this point in her life, not the other way around.
“It’s not just money.” Jess took a breath, trying to arrange her thoughts in some sort of order. “I mean it is, but it’s also me. I feel like I’m in this holding pattern, raising Juno, making ends meet, trying to keep things moving until my life actually begins. I was just starting to think how silly that is and how I need to get out more. But now this,” she said, waving her phone for emphasis. “I worked my butt off for this account, and they’re going to replace me tomorrow because there are a hundred other people with looser morals who can do what I do.” Jess pressed her fingers to her temples. “I need to look for a second job. I don’t want you taking care of me.”
“Are you kidding?” Pops argued. “Who takes us to our appointments? Who helps us when we don’t know how to use a damned iPhone? Who found our trainer and helps Nana Jo with the garden? You work hard, Jessica, and you’re raising that amazing little girl.”
The amazing little girl herself bounded back in and pointed accusingly at her great-grandfather. “Pops! Your glasses are on your face!”
“Would you look at that!” He adjusted them over his nose, pulling his crossword closer to peer down at it. “I bet you know a three-letter word for ‘regret,’ don’t you, Jess?”
Jess smiled. “Rue.”
“See? What would we do without you?” He grinned at her over the top of his glasses before penciling the word in.
ONCE HER GRANDPARENTS were gone, Jess leaned against the closed door. Fatigue settled flabbily into her muscles, aching deep into her bones. She felt much older than thirty. Walking through the quiet apartment, she picked up Juno’s shoes, the stray socks, the cat toys, more than one cup half-full of milk, pencils, food orders on Post-it notes from Juno and Pops playing Restaurant. She set the coffee timer, packed up Juno’s backpack, loaded the dishwasher, and glanced around the space for any other random detritus before flicking off the light and walking down the hall to her daughter’s room.
Juno had fallen asleep with Frog and Toad Are Friends open on her chest again, her mermaid light still on. Jess deposited Pigeon on her fancy three-tiered cat post near the window, but she immediately jumped down and onto the bed, happily curling herself into a ball at Juno’s feet.