seven // Taylor Swift

Holly

I enter my house and find Mom sitting up in the recliner, feet propped, watching some reality show.

"Look at you. Must be feeling good." I lean down to kiss her cheek then head to the kitchen. "I'll get dinner started. I'm running late after dropping the envelope off with Butch, but I've got some quick fix options." My pulse is racing remembering the look on Jackson's face as I stood toe to toe with him in the shop.

"Was Butch happy to look them over? I wish I coulda seen his face."

"He was." And so was his son, but I keep that tidbit to myself.

"Nostalgia can be contagious. Makes me want to pull out our family albums and remember the good times."

I hold back the scoff. We didn't have many good times growing up. It's always been just getting by, never trying to find happiness or joy. Never having any hope for something new or different.

I bustle around the kitchen pulling food from here and there to throw together a quick meal. I wipe things down as I go, while also putting clean dishes away from the drying rack and restocking the soap dispenser.

"You sure are a busy bee in there. What's got you so energized?"

I pause at Mom's question. Energized? I look around and see evidence of the multitasking I've been managing. A clean kitchen now clutter free. Dinner almost ready. Wow. I am energized.

"Just trying to be efficient." I answer but there's something niggling in my head about that. I did not have efficiency on my mind as I was moving about in here.

I shrug and grab our plates filled with a mix of leftovers and fresh fruit. I try to give Mom healthy options, but she's become pickier as the years go by. I hand Mom her food then sit near her on the couch. We chat about our days, minus the surprise reunion with Jackson, which I keep to myself, and finish our food. The T.V. show she's watching continues playing in the background and when Mom finishes her food her attention is drawn back to the drama. I begin clearing our dishes, tidying up the living room and suddenly get the urge to dust, wipe everything down.

"My, my. I haven't seen you this busy in a while." Mom comments as I flit past her.

Again, I shrug and smile. But once again, her observation makes me think. And I agree. I haven't been this 'busy' in a long time. Usually I trudge home and do the bare minimum. Just enough to get through the day. But tonight, I feel different.

I turn to glance over at the front door. When I walked into my house tonight, only minutes after seeing Jackson for the first time since I was little, I didn't need to pause when my hand touched the knob and take a breath. The seconds of peace I revel in while walking wasn't sucked out of me the moment I passed over the threshold. I smiled at Mom. I feel the smile living within me even now.

Was that all it took? Seeing Jackson again?

True, the interaction with Jackson left me shocked. The buzz of nerves haven't completely left me an hour later. But when I remember the soft look he gave me, the smile, the warmth behind his eyes, I can't help but feel...something.

Oh my god. Five minutes with him and I'm already different.

***

A couple of days pass by slowly. I find myself thinking back to Jackson at work and home whenever there's a quiet moment. It's the weekend now and I'm antsy, a foreign feeling for me. I'd recognize worry or anticipation, but pent up energy? No. That's not typical for me.

And tonight, I need to get out of this house.

"Mom, will you be alright for a while?"

"Course. You going somewhere?"

I shrug, not wanting to open this door with her. The questions will be endless and the potential for the conversation to lead back to Jackson is enough for me to avoid it. I'm not ready to unpack what's been in my head.

"Gonna be gone long?" There's disappointment in her tone. Instant guilt prickles at my stomach.

"Not very. I have some errands to run." A lie. But it's one that will get me out easier.

"Oh. Yes, baby, I'll be fine here."

She talks about me finding friends, going out, but the second I make any kind of move to do so she acts hurt that I'd leave her. I swallow the resentment once again. My denial won't work for much longer. I'm losing my youth stuck in this house but if I let myself get angry about it, I won't be able to put that aside and take care of her anymore. Moments like this make it nearly impossible to stick it out.

"I won't be long." Biting back my own disappointment, I grab my purse and leave. I know where I'm going—can't find a way to kid myself about why—and wait for the next bus to the east end of town. I have no idea if Jackson's still there, or what I'll say when I see him, but the curiosity is killing me.

The bus ride takes forever but I finally arrive down the street from Blue Bloods. I meander on my walk to the storefront, trying in a futile attempt to calm my nerves, taking in the restaurant menu of an Italian place and the window offerings of a nearby pawn shop. Blue Bloods' neon sign comes into view and my heart rate accelerates. I'm a nervous wreck but I've come this far, might as well go all the way.

I pull the door open to the jingle of a bell. Butch is standing in a spot behind a counter, eyes cast across the shop. He turns his gaze on me and a full smile grows as he recognizes me.

"Holly, girl, good to see you again. Come for those photos? I've got copies all made up so you're free to take them home to your ma."

A sigh of relief flows from my lungs. He's given me a reason for my visit. Other than seeing his son.

"Yes, exactly. Mom is getting sentimental since looking those up. She's wanting to look through them again." Not exactly a lie. She has mentioned them once or twice.

He reaches under the desk and pulls out the original envelope I brought here two days ago, handing it to me with a wide smile.

"Sure is different looking back on those years now that Jackson's here."

His words give me pause. I'd been too embarrassed to ask if his son was still in town, but Butch's sentimental confession has answered the unspoken question. My entire body heats with the knowledge that he's here. Somewhere. Dare I ask?

"You remember much from back then?"

I shoot my gaze to Butch. His question catches me off guard. "Some."

That's a lie. I remember everything where Jackson is concerned. At least, it feels that way. Memories have a tendency to mesh together, seeming vivid and clear but I'm sure there are details I've forgotten.

"He was a little engine, that boy. Couldn't sit still. I think he must have dragged you with him all over town before tuckering out. Little guy was always trying to cheer everyone up."

Me included. Or me most of all. Either way, that's what I remember most about him. He was a caretaker, always checking on those around him. Even then, as a little girl with hardly any experience in life, I knew his friendship was special.

I've missed it ever since.

"I've got to take care of some things in the back," Butch says abruptly, breaking through my memories. "Good to see you again so soon. You tell your Ma thanks from me, will ya?" He turns to walk away then calls across the shop. "Jackson, come say hi to Holly."

I take in a startled breath as my eyes graze across the room. Jackson is standing at the opposite end, eyes directly on me. I hadn't even looked to see if he was around when I walked in, but there he is. I'm struck with the distinct feeling he's had his eyes on me the entire time I've been in the shop. Something moves between us as we stare from opposing sides of the room, electricity, a tangible energy crossing the space. He's motionless, no hurry to walk toward me as though he's content to observe from afar and allow this sensation to consume him.

I'm not that patient.

Just as I start to wonder if I should go to him, he moves. Purposeful strides from his position leaning against a wall to where I stand awkwardly in the reception area. His eyes never leave mine. His face a storm of emotions I can't read. My heart races as he nears. I grip the strap of my cross-body purse for dear life.

And then he's standing in front of me.

"Come with me," he says without preamble.

It takes a second for my brain to catch up. "Come with you? Where?"

A smirk grows across his face. The simple change in his demeanor is everything. Suddenly the tension is broken, my breathing returns to normal and I can think straight.

"Okay." I agree without further explanation.

"Good." The smirk becomes a smile, and although the word doesn't spill from his lips, my mind fills in the blank.

Good girl.

I gulp. That was the insinuation in his tone, at least.

He takes my hand, lacing our fingers together in a grip that feels more intimate than it is, and leads me to the door.

"Don't you need to let your dad know you're leaving?"

"Nah."

He answers as though the two of us taking off is a foregone conclusion. Strangely enough, I think it was.

Jackson relaxes his grip on me—although the pressure was pleasant if I do say so—as we exit the shop and walk down the street to a truck. He unlocks and opens the passenger door, ushering me inside. It takes no time for him to join me in the cab, start the engine, and pull away from the curb.

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"What kind of surprise could you have for me? We haven't seen each other since we were little kids."

He answers with a smirk and nothing else.

I sigh unsatisfied but curious enough to allow the mystery. As he drives to the unknown location with me, both of us in silence, I realize the feeling I have with him is wholly unheard of in my life. Contentment.

What a sad truth to be faced with. But if this is my only chance to soak in that feeling, I'm going to make the most of it.

I loved writing that last scene. Couldn't you imagine Jackson giving Holly the full body once over from across the room? Next chapter will be their mysterious outing. I hope Jackson's got something good planned cause I've got nothing yet, LOL. But that's how I roll *wink*

Also, you may have noticed the disconnect between the guy on the cover and the description I've given of Jackson (no tats and longer hair). This is by design and will be explained...eventually.

I'm back from a 3 week road trip on the east coast and ready to get some good writing in. I was so busy every day doing the tourist stuff that I haven't written hardly a word the entire time. That's about to change drastically. On a good note, I was incredibly inspired by my time in New York and Rhode Island so...new story ideas may be on the way!

Taylor is Holly. Holly is Taylor.

https://youtu.be/pEY-GPsru_E

PS, Inevitable will be a PAID story on August 17, so if you need a reread this is your heads up. I'm excited to meet all the new readers that will discover Fallbrook Hills and the Blue Bloods boys!!