Chapter 2

Jubilee dumped her purse onto her bed when she arrived home, searching through all the various items for that damn list. Swearing, she dug around in her pockets, her coat pockets, even inside her shoes.

No list.

Hadn’t Megan returned it to her before Heath had come into The Rise and Shine? She couldn’t remember. She’d heard the bell while she and Megan had been adding things to the list, and then she’d seen Heath, and her brain had essentially turned to mush.

She texted Megan, Do you have my list?

To which Megan replied a few minutes later, No, don’t you have it?

That meant that that list was somewhere in The Rise and Shine. Jubilee almost considered going back to look around, but that seemed like overkill. If someone picked it up, she hoped they threw it away, thinking it was trash.

Oh God, she thought suddenly, what if Heath picked it up?

That thought sent a chill straight through her, although it was mostly embarrassment she felt overall. She’d never live it down if he saw that list. He’d think she was insane, or slutty. Or both. Who made a list of things like “lose your virginity”? Only sad weirdos did that.

Jubilee pushed away panic, telling herself that Heath would’ve returned anything belonging to her. He was a good guy. A good guy she wanted to kick in the shins, but decent nonetheless.

Jubilee had moved into her apartment two years ago when she’d started working at The Rise and Shine. She’d never lived away from home before, and it had been a battle for her mother to let her go live on her own. Lisa had been convinced that Jubilee wouldn’t take care of herself, or she would get overwhelmed with the usual types of things you had to do when you were an adult. Pay the rent, pay the electric bill, etcetera.

Jubilee had persevered, however, and although working at a bakery wasn’t exactly her dream job, it paid those pesky bills and allowed her to get out from underneath her mother’s overly concerned thumb.

While eating dinner, Jubilee checked her email. Her heart raced when she saw the email from Avila College, a small community college in Seattle.

She set down her bowl of soup and opened the email, only to let out a deep sigh of relief when she saw the words, Congratulations, you’ve been accepted! Jubilee had gotten decent grades in high school, but her second bout of leukemia had lasted through her freshman year. She’d gotten behind, and it had been a struggle to graduate with her peers, but Jubilee had managed it.

A community college wasn’t as competitive as a state university, of course. There was no reason she wouldn’t have been accepted, but that hadn’t stopped her from feeling nervous. Now she just had to tell her family that she was moving to Seattle to go to college.

Lisa Thornton would love hearing that news.

But Jubilee allowed herself a celebration for her good news. Pouring herself a glass of wine, she was about to turn on the Food Network when someone knocked on her front door. She opened it to find none other than her mother standing there with two bags of groceries in her hands.

“Help me with these,” Lisa said as she handed Jubilee a bag. “Those checkout boys can never bag properly. I had to take the bread out from the bottom of the bag before I left the store.”

Jubilee sighed as Lisa started unloading the groceries and putting them away in Jubilee’s cabinets. Lisa periodically bought Jubilee groceries for no other reason than she was convinced Jubilee couldn’t buy her own. Jubilee knew her mother did it so she could check up on her. It also amused her greatly, considering Lisa hadn’t bought groceries on her own for years until Jubilee had moved out. She’d always had help to do that for her.

“You didn’t need to bring me groceries,” Jubilee said as she placed a carton of eggs in the fridge along with bottled water and almond milk.

“You barely have anything to eat here.” Lisa clucked her tongue as she placed three more boxes of cereal next to the lone one sitting in the pantry.

“I was going shopping tomorrow.”

Lisa didn’t hear her, too busy organizing Jubilee’s pantry to her specifications. Jubilee gritted her teeth to keep herself from saying something she’d regret.

Lisa had never left Jubilee’s side during her chemo treatments as a child. She’d taken Jubilee to every appointment, every test, every treatment. She’d brushed Jubilee’s hair when Jubilee had been too tired to do it herself. She’d bathed her, sat with her, told her she would beat this leukemia and live a long, long life.

Jubilee hadn’t realized until years later how much Lisa had missed out on with her five older siblings to care for her. Thus, guilt kept her from telling Lisa to let her live her own life, no matter how frustrating it was.

Jubilee rubbed her chest, right over the scar where a port had been placed during her bone marrow transplants. Sometimes she could still feel the needle under her skin, even though she hadn’t had any treatments in over a decade.

“Why didn’t you answer my text?” Lisa asked. In her sixties now, Lisa remained an attractive woman. She kept her hair a light blond, her makeup light but elegant.

As the matriarch of a large family, Lisa remained a fixture in her children’s lives, even after they’d reached adulthood. After she had almost broken up Harrison and Sara, however, she’d since “calmed down,” as Harrison had termed it. Jubilee had a feeling she’d only calmed down regarding her older siblings. Jubilee would always be the baby who needed to be protected.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot.” Jubilee started eating her soup again, but it had gotten cold. She sighed inwardly.

“Are you coming home this weekend?” Lisa sat down next to Jubilee, her back not touching the cushion behind her. “Your father would like to see you.”

Jubilee bit back a smile. “He just saw me yesterday at the bakery.”

“You know what I mean. You haven’t been home in a while. Your brothers and sister will be there.”

“Really? All of them?”

“Most of them. Caleb is worse at responding than you are.” Lisa tapped Jubilee’s knee. “I’m worried about you. You work all day, you have no food when you come home, you live in this tiny apartment—”

“Mom, we’ve been over this. My apartment is just fine. I have food, I’m paying my bills. I’m taking care of myself fine.”

“And so this is it? You’ll work at a bakery the rest of your life?”

Jubilee flushed in embarrassment. She considered telling Lisa about her acceptance to Avila, but she bit her tongue. She wasn’t in the mood to hear Lisa tell her that moving to Seattle would be a terrible plan. Ironic, considering that Lisa wasn’t a fan of Jubilee working at a bakery.

“What do you want me to be doing?” Jubilee countered. “Move home and live with you and Dad for the rest of my life?”

“No, I’m not saying that. Don’t put words in my mouth. I’m simply saying that I’m concerned about your choices, that’s all, and you have to be careful with your health. If you have another relapse…”

“Unlikely, now that I’m an adult.”

Seeing the worry in Lisa’s face, Jubilee couldn’t help but squeeze her mother’s hand.

“I’m fine. I’m happy. Don’t worry about me, okay?”

Lisa squeezed her hand back. “You’ll come home this weekend?”

“Yes, I’ll come. I promise.”

After Lisa left, with Jubilee promising to get the landlord to look at her leaky window, Jubilee tossed out the now ice-cold soup and poured herself a second glass of wine.

Would her mother ever let her grow up? She didn’t know if Lisa could let go of the sickly child Jubilee had been.

Her mother’s continued interference only hardened Jubilee’s resolve further. No matter what anyone said, she was going to Seattle, and she was going to live the life she’d always wanted.

When the bell rang at three o’clock, Heath knew that his students’ minds were already looking toward home.

“Okay, everyone have a nice weekend. Be sure to work on your multiplication tables for the test next week.”

Heath worked at Fair Haven Elementary, which was the only elementary school in town. There was talk of opening a second one, though, considering that the school had had to hire more teachers to teach fourth and fifth grade. Those teachers’ classrooms were housed in portable trailers on school grounds, something which had been met with loud complaints from multiple staff members.

“Mr. DiMarco, can I talk to you?” Jessie, a new student to Fair Haven Elementary, was a petite ten-year-old with a mass of curly dark hair. She’d been shy and quiet at the beginning of the school year, but Heath had been pleased to see her coming out of her shell and making friends lately.

“Of course. What’s up?”

Jessie hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at the other students packing up, laughing and making their way out of the classroom for the weekend.

“How about you get packed up and then come find me when everyone’s gone? Do you have to catch the bus, though?”

Jessie shook her head. “No, I walk home.”

Heath cleaned his desk, stuffing folders of tests and quizzes and homework into his bag while supervising the remaining stragglers. He ushered the last two out the door, knowing full well they would miss the bus without another thought.

He shut the door to give him and Jessie a little privacy. Fifth graders were one of the best classes, Heath thought, because they were still young enough to like (and sometimes hug) their teacher, while being old enough to think for themselves. Heath couldn’t count the number of times one of his students had said or written something that had blown his adult mind.

“So, Jessie, how are you? Is everything at home going okay?”

Jessie shuffled her feet. She looked uncomfortable, and Heath’s heart went out to her. This was the hardest part about teaching: the human aspect of it. His students came from all walks of life. Some had wealthy parents, some had middle-income parents. Some had one parent, some only had a grandparent. Some children only ate breakfast if they came to school for it.

Heath had met Jessie’s mother, Lana, who seemed like a sweet woman who worked hard to provide for her daughter. Jessie’s father had died in a construction accident three years ago.

“I just…” Jessie bit her lip. “My mom’s not happy.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, she gets sad a lot. Daddy’s been dead forever now, but I’ll come home and she’s crying. But she won’t tell me why. I’ll try to make dinner and do the laundry to help her. Last night she told me that she’s lonely.”

Heath had a feeling Lana wouldn’t love that her daughter was talking to him about her issues. Before he could tell Jessie that, Jessie blurted, “I want you to date my mom.”

Heath had to stifle an incredulous laugh. Putting on his best I’m-taking-you-serious face that he used so often with kids this age, he said, “That’s very kind of you and I’m honored you thought of me. But that’s for your mom to decide, not you.”

“You won’t even try? You’d like her. She’s not fat like a lot of the moms here. She gets her hair done at the fancy salon!”

Heath’s lips twitched. “I’ve met your mother, and she seems like a lovely person. But I’m not going to date her.” Rising, he handed Jessie her backpack. “Now, how about we get you home before your mom worries about where you are?”

Heath shook his head as he gathered his own things. He’d have to have a chat with Lana tonight. He didn’t want Jessie to misconstrue anything he’d said, considering the delicacy of the subject.

The thought of dating made him think of Jubilee—and her list. The list sat on his bedside table, mocking him, telling him he was an asshole for reading it.

And yet…

Heath cracked open a beer the moment he arrived home. His apartment had two bedrooms, one of which he used as an office. It had been built within the last two years, with brand-new appliances, carpet, and even a washer and dryer. Yet sometimes Heath felt like his place didn’t feel like home. It seemed barren. Even after putting pictures on the walls and letting Rose decorate, it felt like someone else’s place.

After two beers, Heath grabbed that damn list and sat staring at it as the TV buzzed in the background. He knew the list—two lists, technically—by heart at this point.

Jubilee and someone else had listed five names of men in Fair Haven “worth dating.” Heath knew all the names, although he actually knew only one of the men: Ash Younger, Trent Younger’s brother. Ash worked as Trent’s accountant for his restaurants, and although he was charming and handsome, Heath was well aware of Ash’s reputation as a playboy. There wasn’t a single woman in Fair Haven he hadn’t slept with or tried to sleep with, or so the rumors went.

Jubilee deserved better than a player like Ash Younger.

The other names were bachelors who often hung out The Fainting Goat, Trent’s bar and a popular hangout in Fair Haven. They were the guys who liked pretty women and had no intention of settling down. Would Jubilee really go home with one of them and lose her virginity without a second thought? None of those guys would care enough to make sure her first time wasn’t just good, but amazing. What if they hurt her, even accidentally?

The thought made Heath’s stomach turn. And worst of all? The thought of Jubilee with any guy sent his mind into a total tailspin.

He folded up the list and put it into his wallet, promising to return it tomorrow. Jubilee usually worked at The Rise and Shine on Saturdays. He could give it to her then.

As the evening waned into night and Heath depleted another beer, he took out the box that held items important to him. Rose’s first tooth; a photo of his parents, dead these many years; Rose at her high school graduation; a letter from his fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Dunby, who’d inspired him to become a teacher in the first place.

One thing was missing, however: a lock of Jubilee’s hair.

He knew that Rose’s ex Johnny had stolen it—for whatever twisted reason—when he’d broken into Heath’s place earlier that summer. Heath hadn’t mentioned it to Rose, because how could he without explaining why he’d kept it?

It had been Jubilee’s twenty-first birthday the night she’d given it to him. She’d had her party at The Fainting Goat, along with a few friends from high school and her brothers keeping watch. Heath had arrived by himself, not realizing that it was Jubilee’s birthday.

Jubilee was radiant that night. Normally a little shy, she became exuberant and affectionate as the drinks were poured into the night. Heath hadn’t planned on staying late, but he was mesmerized by Jubilee that night.

He also knew very well that she was completely off-limits. Harrison had become a good friend after Heath had moved to Fair Haven. He wouldn’t jeopardize that friendship—no matter how beautiful his younger sister was.

When it got close to midnight, Harrison and Caleb were helping Jubilee to her car, her friends too drunk to do anything but laugh at anything anyone said or did. Jubilee staggered, giggling, before telling her brothers she needed to pee.

Heath watched as Jubilee meandered down the hallway to the restroom. When he heard a thump, though, he rose and went to make sure Jubilee hadn’t fallen. Or gotten stuck somewhere.

He found her on the ground, digging through her purse. Her red lipstick was smeared, her dark hair a tangled mess. She grinned up at Heath when he approached her.

“I thought I saw you glaring at me,” she joked. She giggled. “Are you drunk, too?”

“No, I’m not.” He squatted down in front of her. “Can you get up?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m looking for something…” She resumed digging around in her purse before pulling out a pair of…scissors? “There they are!”

“Jubilee, I’m not sure—”

“Oh, don’t worry. I meant to do this earlier, but I forgot.” She took a large piece of hair that had fallen from her up-do, opening the scissors around it and was about to start cutting.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Heath stopped her before the scissors closed over the hair. “Don’t cut your hair now.”

“No, no, you don’t get it. You know I was never allowed to cut my hair? After chemo, I lost it all. Twice. It took five years to get it this long again. My mom wouldn’t let me cut it.” Determination lit her features. “But tonight I’m going to cut it all off.”

Seeing how determined she was, Heath said, “How about you cut off a small piece? Just a little one. Then when you’re sober in the morning, you can go somewhere and get it cut.”

Jubilee narrowed her eyes at him, assessing. “You’re probably right.”

“Probably,” he said with a grin.

Taking the scissors from her, he separated a smaller lock from the piece Jubilee had been about to cut. It wasn’t in an obvious spot, so hopefully Jubilee wouldn’t be upset at its loss in the morning.

“You sure about this?” Heath asked.

“Do it. Or I’ll do it myself.”

Considering how uncoordinated she was, Heath didn’t want her injuring herself accidentally. Before he could rethink this mad plan, he pulled the lock straight and snipped it about an inch from her scalp. It fell into his palm, silky and dark.

“Your prize, madam.”

But as he tried to hand her the lock of hair, she shook her head. “Keep it. I don’t need it.”

Right then, Harrison came around the corner, and Heath put the lock of hair into his pocket. Harrison helped Jubilee up, thanking Heath, and then she was gone, the scissors left on the floor like some bizarre symbol.

Heath had kept that lock of hair ever since. When he’d next encountered Jubilee, she hadn’t said a word about it. He had a feeling she’d forgotten it in her drunken haze.

He snorted, closing the box of mementos. It was better this way. He didn’t need to keep thinking of a girl—no, a woman—who could never be his.

Jubilee had no idea about his past, and he planned to keep it that way. Even if it meant he could never act on his attraction to her.