Credence

Jake’s moods have spiraled lately, and I’m worried it’s my fault. Is he feeling guilty? Is he concerned for me? Is he jealous?

I haven’t had a chance to talk to him. Kaleb and I are always together.

Or Kaleb makes sure we’re always together.

Not that I’d choose to have it any other way. I just hope he trusts that I’m well aware of who I’m in love with, and he doesn’t need to worry about his father and brother around me.

I jog after Jake. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you are.”

He heads over to the tool bench and picks up what he needs before turning to another work-in-progress.

He won’t look at me.

“I’m happy,” I tell him, because I know that’s what he really cares about.

“I know.”

So what is it, then? I stand there, feeling Kaleb walk past me to the sink. He washes his hands, but I know he’s watching us.

“Just…don’t get pregnant,” he finally grits out. “You’re only eighteen.”

“I know,” I assure him. “I won’t.”

“And you’re going to college.”

“I will.”

I think.

He glares at the bike he’s working on, seething. “And tell that woman,” he bites out, closing his eyes like the mere mention of her is going to send him over the edge, “that if she doesn’t stop calling every other day just to get in my face and ruin my goddamn peace of mind with all her questions and arrogant little comebacks, that I will burn every cell phone and computer in this house, so she can’t ever get a hold of you again! And then I’ll put up an electric fence in time for the snow to melt so she can’t get on the property!”

I fold my lips between my teeth, holding my breath, because my laughter is about to burst out.

So that’s what’s wrong. Mirai calls to talk to me, but she calls way more often than is necessary. And if I don’t answer,

she calls his phone.

The best part is…as frustrated as he sounds, he always answers.

They fight every time. No one riles him up so much. Not even us.

I choke down my amusement and nod. “I’ll tell her.”

He throws a wrench on the work bench and picks up another. Kaleb and I head into the house.

“Change that lightbulb!” Jake yells after us before we close the door.

I let out a laugh and Kaleb smiles, placing a peck on my forehead.

He walks to the cabinet and digs out a lightbulb, winking at me as he heads for the staircase.

The scent of the cinnamon rolls I put in the oven a half hour ago fills the air, and I shut off the timer, with only seconds left, and dig out the baking dish.

Shutting off the oven, I set the rolls down on a cooling rack and glance over at Kaleb as he hops onto the railing and then climbs onto a rafter to start scaling his way up to the chandelier. One bulb has been out for days. My heart skips a beat, watching him go higher and higher.