I knew that. He was nice, but it had everything to do with this idea of change that had taken hold of me since my dad’s wedding.
I didn’t want to change completely. There were plenty of things I liked about myself, but those things had more to do with my reverse layup skills on the court or nailing the backlight on a photo. I was just a girl who wanted to look a little more put together than she used to. The craziest change would be my vow to straighten my hair 2-3 times a week. My goal was to “train my hair,” as Tessa put it, to make it two days a week where my hair would require a wash and straighten. Two to three hours of my life that I would hopefully gain back in other ways. I would never be different if I didn’t manifest something different.
I’d be starting an office manager position at a national photography magazine calledWild Horizon. I’d been lucky to land the job and was hopeful that one day it would be a foot in the door to a photography position. The current manager was having a baby and planned to quit indefinitely once she did, so my position didn’t start until the end of August. Tessa’s suggestion to work at the dude ranch for my remaining months in Eugene had been a relief. Offering me a cabin to stay in while simultaneously getting me out of living with two newlyweds was also a relief.
My phone lit up with a call.
“Hey, Tess,” I said.
“You all packed up?”
I looked around my room at the piles and half-filled boxes littered everywhere. “Uh. Sure.”
“It should be easy when you can just take a match and light all your old clothes on fire.”
“And give other people the chance to miss out on old, stained team shirts and Chad’s old basketball shorts? Never.”
“Why do you have Chad’s old shorts?”
“He sold them to me when I was in junior high. They work great for washing windows and weeding the garden.”
“Hesoldthem to you?”
“They were too good to just give away.”
“I have so many questions but not enough time. We’re moving forward. You know, I always thought you were cute, but I must say I’ve never been more proud of you than I was yesterday at the mall. Graduating you from a sports bra to a real bra was a special moment for me.”
“I have had several real bras, thank you very much,” I protested. It was actually one real bra, which I rarely wore. For the past few years, I’d spent half my time as a coach and the other half as a photographer. Neither of those activities required a real bra.
“Sure you did,” Tessa said. “Do you have your first outfit planned?”
“No.”
“I texted you a picture of all possible combinations. You should be good to go all summer with what you got.”
“In case I forget to tell you, you’re a gem of a cousin, and I’m sorry for all the times I made faces at you behind your back.”
She laughed. “What time are you coming to the ranch today?”
“I promised my dad and Belinda I’d have breakfast with them, and then I’ll head out. I’m guessing I’ll be there around eleven.”
“Perfect. Jake is organizing a shooting competition for whenever you get there. He didn’t say that outright, but it’s definitely for you. You might want to bring your A game.”
“He is?” For some reason, the knowledge of this simple gesture filled me with relief. And excitement. And the dreaded realization that I hadn’t held a gun in a really long time.
“Yeah. I’m glad you’re coming. I think you’re just what he needs.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, throwing one pair of Chad’s old shorts in my suitcase, just in case I needed them.
“We’ve all been kind of worried. He keeps everything so close to his chest. He’s had it pretty hard the past little while. I just think…a little dose of Shelby might help the medicine go down.”
“What?” I asked over the sound of Tessa’s laughter. “Your pregnancy brain has done something crazy to your head.” Tessa was eight months pregnant, which I loved for her and Logan.
“I’m just saying…” She trailed off and didn’t actually say anything else, but her implications were clear enough. I thought back to my childhood with Jake. There were too many memories to count, but not one of those had included any pining or forbidden crush or anything of the sort. People could think what they liked, but Jake and I were only ever meant to be friends. That had been clear enough our entire life.
“Alright, I’ll tell everyone you’ll be here around eleven. I’ll let you know where we’ll be shooting.”
We hung up, and I got back to packing. I was almost done when I got to the cluster of pictures of my mother in a frame sitting by my bed. I peered closer at the woman with striking red hair who sat holding me and helping me blow out my birthday candles.