Page 52 of The Surprise
“Pretty boys are usually dumb.” Her smirk brightens her whole face. I wonder what she looked like fifty years ago. I wonder if Jed loved her like I love Beth.
In that moment, I realize that I do.
I mean, I’m eighteen. I’m sure Mom would say that I don’t really know what love is. But I think it’s something that makes you happy. It’s something that makes you want to work hard. It makes you want to run fast. It makes you want to break things if they get in your way. It makes you think about that person morning, noon, and night, and maybe it makes you text them so much that you could get confused with a stalker. And when you can’t see them, you feel all broken and stubby inside.
If that’s what it is, then I do know.
“I love her,” I say. “And without Uncle Jedediah’s weird will clause, I wouldn’t have ever met her. I just wish that judge had tried to do what Uncle Jed wanted, and not just what it said in the will.”
“Just because that idiot never took a vacation, he shouldn’t have limited you guys to a week.” She shakes her head. “He was such a stubborn fool.”
And in that moment, watching Amanda Saddler thinking about the person she loves, and thinking about Beth myself, I wonder whether it’s all a futile waste of time.
“Family’s always a complicated mess,” she says. “And you have a lot of family.” She leans a bit closer. “But it’s the best mess in the whole world. You may feel a little cursed, but really, you’re luckier than most people I’ve ever met. Try to remember that.”
“That’s probably true,” I say. “But it doesn’t help me right now.”
“Don’t give up on her, then. Just because you’re moving back to Houston—”
“I don’t even want to move,” I say. “I told her that, but she won’t even text me back.”
“Did you tell her you love her?” She isn’t mocking me, and that’s a relief.
“Of course not. I only just admitted it to myself.”
She nods. “Smart boy. Don’t breathe a word of that.”
“No?” It feels momentous, like I should tell the world, like I should at least tell my mom. And of course Beth needs to know, too.
“No way.”
“This is coming from the woman who let fifty years pass—”
She slaps my shoulder. “Stop. Just because someone made one mistake for a really long time doesn’t invalidate all her other advice. Now, listen. I may not know you very well, but I’ve known the Ellingsons for a long time. And that sweet, shy girl?”
Now I’m hanging on her every word and she knows it.
“She’s like a scared duckling. You’re not gonna get her to come out with big declarations.” She shakes her head. “No. You want her to come to you, so you’re going to have to friend zone her.”
“Friend zone her?” Clearly Amanda Saddler is an idiot. I stand up. “Good talk.”
“I mean it, boy.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“It’s not what I did with Jed,” she says quietly, as if she knows what a bomb that will be.
“Wait. It’s not?”
“I froze him out. That’s totally different than this. The opposite, in fact.”
I sit back down. “How so?”
“You’re going to keep yourself in the game, you big lummox. You’re going to be there, outshining all the other little boys she meets, and acting like it’s totally fine, and that you don’t even like her. That’ll keep the little duckling from swimming away.”
“Okay. Tell me more.” I like the idea of being able to see her, even if I can’t kiss her.
“Listen, I pushed and pushed and pushed with Jed and your grandpa, and I pushed so hard that it burned the bottom of the soup pot.”
