As it turned out, Marla Jean didn’t give Bradley away, after all. She’d gotten a nice note from Libby thanking her for all her help, but Marla Jean decided the happy couple deserved the gift of her absence from the wedding festivities. But that didn’t mean she didn’t hear every juicy detail. Hoot and Dooley had plenty to say, and every customer who came in to the barber shop couldn’t wait to add their two cents describing the extravaganza.
And she hadn’t spoken to Jake the next day, either. She heard all about how handsome he looked in his suit. Hoot seemed to think she’d be particularly interested. She heard how Libby cried through the entire ceremony. Now there was a surprise. And how Bradley wrote his own vows and delivered them without missing a beat. She heard the wedding cake was pumpkin, courtesy of Cal’s giant pumpkin, and it was shaped like the Bookmobile with little marzipan books scattered all around. And everyone that came in to the shop had to give Dooley a hard time. It seems he drank too much punch, and when he danced the jitterbug with his wife, he fell down and took half a dozen couples with him, knocking them over like bowling pins. Hoot wouldn’t let him hear the end of that for a good long while. She heard Genna Stanley caught the bouquet, and Donny Joe caught the garter. And she heard the two of them danced together until the wee hours of the night. There probably weren’t many details that some kind soul didn’t see fit to share with her. And that was all right. She’d also heard through the grapevine that Bradley and Libby had returned safely from their honeymoon in Russia, and they appeared blissfully happy.
Good for them.
The Everson Daily ran a small story about the accident that destroyed the Bookmobile, complete with pictures of photogenic Genna alongside images of crying Libby and of Marla Jean sticking her nose out from under a hospital bed sheet long enough to glare at the camera. Genna hinted to anyone who would listen that she’d heroically saved Libby from being kidnapped before the wedding and strings had been pulled to get the charges dropped. Marla Jean didn’t have the energy to bother disputing it. Her friends knew the truth, and they were the only ones who mattered.
She’d settled into her apartment in Derbyville, although a few boxes still remained unpacked. Despite the yellow paint, the place was a little cold and sterile, but between teaching art classes and working she didn’t spend much time there, so what did it matter?
The barber shop still took up her days, though she’d worked out a schedule that had Milton working some half days and gave her some flexibility in her work week. Having her dad back at the shop had turned out to be a real blessing.
Because she was teaching evening art classes at the community college she had a legitimate excuse for not eating dinner at her parents’ house every night of the week. Bitsy worried about her being alone, but the truth was, for the first time in her life, she allowed herself that choice. Choosing to be alone felt powerful and luxurious and a little bit decadent.
Teaching had proven to be an unexpected pleasure. She hadn’t been certain that loving to paint would translate into loving to teach it. But when she was working with someone who shared her passion, she felt herself blooming, opening up in ways she never could have predicted. All in all, she was content with her life.
And it wasn’t as if she sat home alone all the time. She’d gone on a couple of dates. A fellow teacher from the college took her to dinner one night after class, and she’d had coffee a few times with her next-door neighbor. Both were nice guys, but it was painfully clear that neither of them was Jake.
When she was alone, she’d allow herself to think about Jake, relive the night she’d spent in his arms, and wonder if she’d ever feel that way about any other man. She still saw him in town occasionally, and somehow managed a friendly façade that hid anything deeper. They even had lunch together once in a while, but he usually seemed preoccupied and distant. Nothing was ever again mentioned about the night at the barber shop. Not a word. Not since he’d broached the subject at the hospital and she’d cut him off like the coward she was. It was as if it never happened. That should have made it easier to accept that Jake was a closed chapter, but it didn’t. If she was smart she wouldn’t dwell on the one night she’d had with him, and she certainly wouldn’t dream of what might have been. But then, whoever said she was smart?
One day Theo stopped by the barber shop right at closing time. Said he was on his way out of town to start his Alaska adventure, and wanted to say his good-byes. Instead of his usual carefree manner, he took her hand and with an earnest expression asked if she’d do him a favor while he was gone.
“Of course, Theo. Just name it.” She studied his face, so like his brother’s, and realized how much she’d come to value Theo’s friendship in the short time she’d known him. If she was going to miss having him around, she could only imagine how hard it would be for Jake.
As if he read her mind he said, “It’s about Jake. This may sound strange, but if you could promise to maybe watch out for him while I’m gone.”
“Me? I don’t know—”
“Listen, Marla Jean, my brother is big on taking care of everyone else and their grandma, too, but when it comes to admitting he could actually use a little help himself on occasion, he’s got those big thick walls built up, and from what I can see, you are the only person he lets wiggle inside sometimes.”
“I think you misunderstood, Theo. We’ve known each other a long time, that’s all.”
“Whatever. He’s different with you. Better. More easy-going. So just promise you’ll check up on him once in a while. Okay?”
She’d opened her mouth and said the right words. “I promise, Theo.” He’d hugged her, said he’d send her a postcard and with a jingle-jangle of the overhead bells disappeared out the shop door.
But she hadn’t done it. She hadn’t watched out for Jake. He would’ve laughed at the very idea. And she couldn’t quite admit how dangerous the suggestion was to her peace of mind.
But one night while she was having dinner at her parents’ house, her mother mentioned over peach cobbler that Jake had sold his folks’ old house to a young couple with two small children. A boy and a girl, and a boxer that barked all night long, her father added.
Finally, after all these years and all the work he’d put into it with Theo, he’d sold the house. It felt like some kind of cord to the past had been permanently severed. His childhood home sold to strangers. No more off chance of running into Jake in the old neighborhood. No more glancing up to see his old truck parked across the street, two houses down.
Was he happy that the last tie to his father was gone? Or sad? Maybe she’d ask him next time she saw him. She usually tried to avoid heavy subjects that might evoke anything uncomfortable or scary like feelings. But then again, she had promised Theo.
Christmas was only a couple of weeks away, and since she had Mondays off, she’d promised her mother they’d have a girls’ day—shop, do lunch, shop, have tea and pie at Bertie’s, treat themselves to a pedicure, and then maybe shop some more.
She showed up early, noticing that her dad put the Christmas lights up over the weekend. Garlands of greenery draped the porch rails, and a wreath of fresh pine decorated the front door. The whole family would gather on the weekend to decorate the tree, but Marla Jean hadn’t done anything to get into the holiday spirit. Maybe she should pick up a small tree for her apartment and put some lights around her front window. That might be fun.
She entered the house, greeted by the welcoming scent of cinnamon and bacon. It smelled like her entire childhood. A mild current of longing for things past rippled through her, but she blamed it on the upcoming holidays and the fact that this would be her first Christmas in her new apartment.
“Is that you, Marla Jean?” her mother called from the back of the house.
“It’s me, Mom.”
“I’ll be ready in a minute. Oh, there’s a letter for you on the front hutch. It looks official.”
“Thanks.” She picked it up and turned it over, not immediately recognizing the return address. Opening the envelope she realized it contained a check. It was from Bradley’s lawyer in the full amount he owed her for their house. She hadn’t expected to get the money without a messy fight and inconvenient court dates. Maybe Libby was already proving to be a good influence on her ex.
Her mom walked in adjusting her earring. “What was in the letter, if I’m not being too nosy.”
Marla Jean flapped the check around in the air. “It’s my house money.” She did a little jig. “Bradley sent a check for my half of the house. Hot dang, Christmas just came early.”
“Well then, I say lunch is on you, kiddo. Does this mean you’re going to look into buying the Brown house again?”
Marla Jean stopped in her tracks. “The Brown house? I don’t even think it’s for sale anymore.” That was a chapter she’d closed along with any idea of having a relationship with Jake. “I know he had another interested buyer at the same time.”
“Well, that’s a shame.” Bitsy slipped on her coat, grabbed her purse, and pulled Marla Jean out the door. “Let’s go. I have a long list, and I don’t want to miss the sales while you dawdle around here daydreaming.”
Marla Jean followed her out the door. “Hey, I was here early. I don’t think I’m the one dawdling.”
Her mom dug in her purse and pulled out a giant ring of keys. Jangling them at her daughter she said, “Watch your manners, missy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said contritely. The Christmas wreath on the front door bounced as she pulled it closed behind her.
Marla Jean stuck her fork into her lemon meringue pie and twirled it this way and that, destroying its pie-like shape without ever taking a bite. She sat in a booth, staring out the diner’s front window, all her attention focused on Jake’s Home Remodeling Service across the way. Lucinda was parked out front, so she knew he was in his office. The big fat check in her purse was the perfect excuse to get up, walk across the street, and ask Jake about the old Brown house. Just to satisfy her curiosity. Not that she wasn’t perfectly happy in her new apartment. But it couldn’t hurt to ask, could it? Who was she kidding? She was curious about the house, but if she was honest, what she really wanted was a good excuse to go see Jake.
While she was at it, she could talk to him about Sadie. Somehow, the time had never seemed right to take her to the new apartment. The puppy seemed so happy with Jake. But she’d put down the pet deposit, for Pete’s sake, and she couldn’t expect him to keep her forever.
Another good reason to go see Jake.
Her mother was in the middle of a spirited discussion with Bertie about the pros and cons of including leeks in her potato soup recipe. They’d moved onto the merits of split peas, so she figured Bitsy would hardly notice if she stepped out for a minute. She could zip over to Jake’s and be back in plenty of time to go have their toes done at Durinda’s Sweet Feet Spa before they hit the outlet mall on the highway.
She took a fortifying bite of pie for courage, stood up before she could change her mind, and declared, “I’ll be right back, Mom.”
“It’s not for sale.” Jake hardly looked up from the paper he was scribbling on when she walked in the door. If he was happy to see her, he was doing a mighty fine job disguising his glee.
She sat down in front of his desk. “Oh, so I guess you sold it to Bud Gailey after all? That’s what I figured, but I thought it couldn’t hurt to check.” Disappointment welled up inside her chest. She’d tried not to get her hopes up, but once the Brown house became a whisper of a possibility again, she’d been a goner all over again.
He put down his pen and looked straight at her. “I didn’t sell it to Bud.”
“Oh, well then, someone else made an offer?” She didn’t even want to imagine who was living in her house now.
“Actually, after I sold my folks’ house, the need to unload it wasn’t so pressing. My lease was up on my apartment, so I decided to keep it for myself.”
“You did? But I thought you said it was too much house for you. That it needed a family, and all that.” Maybe he’d changed his mind about wanting a family. The very idea of him living in her house with some woman now or anytime in the future had her clenching her fists and grinding her teeth.
“I’m actually living out there now. Sadie’s having a grand time exploring.” She noticed he didn’t address his change of heart about the house.
“Gosh, Jake, that’s great.” She didn’t mean it. Not for a minute. Jake and Sadie living in her house, while she was all alone in a cracker box of an apartment in Derbyville. What was wrong with this picture? “I guess you’ve got all sorts of plans for it. Oh, of course you do. You showed them to me, didn’t you? Well, I’ll rest easy knowing it’s in good hands.” She was babbling, but she felt herself getting unexpectedly weepy. She was acting like an idiot, working herself all up over something that was never hers to begin with. And she wasn’t just talking about the dumb old house.
He didn’t seem to notice her distress. In fact, his whole body lit up with eagerness as he started talking about the house. “I’m just getting started, but you’ll have to come out and see what I’m doing to the place when you get a chance, Marla Jean. Your approval would mean a lot to me.”
His big brown eyes met hers, and she felt her insides melting like butter cream icing spread on a cake fresh from the oven. The afternoon sun streamed in through the front window, playing across the planes of his face, gilding each strand of his dark hair with golden light. Why did he have to look so freaking perfect? Why did he have to look like a man who needed to be hugged? Where had that idea come from? She was used to having lust-filled thoughts about him, but this was more of an “isn’t he adorable, and grand, and wonderful” kind of feeling. Her heart couldn’t afford to keep entertaining those kinds of thoughts about Jake. Especially if he had plans to move some other woman into her house.
She tried to listen as he rambled on, looking more animated and alive then she could ever remember. You’d think he was the one with childhood memories of the place tattooed onto his heart.
She swallowed hard and nodded. When she spoke her voice was brittle and wobbly. “I’d love to come see it, but I’m sure it will be wonderful. Really, wonderful, Jake.”
“Are you okay, Marla Jean?” His tone changed to one of concern.
She found a smile. “Oh, sure. I’ve just been thinking about Sadie, lately. You’re probably ready for me to take her off your hands.”
He stood up, looking genuinely troubled. “Oh. Of course. I thought I’d let you settle into your apartment before I mentioned it. But I guess you are settled now, right? It’s been almost a month.” Now he was the one babbling.
“I appreciate it, but yeah, I’m as settled as I’ll ever be.”
“Well then,” he said. “Come by tomorrow night, and I’ll make dinner.”
“Oh, you don’t need to go to any trouble.”
“It’s no trouble. I haven’t started tearing up the kitchen yet. And I’m a pretty good cook.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“All right. It’s a date. Well, not a date.” She shrugged, thinking she should stop talking altogether.
“Great. I’ll have Sadie’s stuff all gathered up and ready to go. So, say, seven?”
“Seven it is.”