Later that night, Jenna was in her bedroom, snarling at the textbook open on the bed in front of her, when there came a knock at the door. A second later, Kyrie appeared, pushing aside one of the many swaths of gauzy fabric that Jenna had suspended from the ceiling.
“I don’t know how you sleep in here,” Kyrie grumbled. “Doesn’t this stuff blow across you in the night?”
“Sometimes. Once I dreamed that I was in the middle of a Venus flytrap. That was pretty gross.” Jenna tossed her highlighter onto the page. “What’s up?”
“It’s your turn to do the vacuuming and sweeping this week.”
“Right. I know.”
“Soooo . . .”
“So, I’ll do it.”
“Could you do it tonight?”
Jenna tilted her head to focus on her sister. “Okay. I know you don’t have a hot date, because you’re here and Ben is in Philly. And if he was here, you’d be too busy boinking like bunnies to care about the floor.”
“Seriously, Jen?”
“Oh, don’t act so offended. You’re not the one who has to stock up on earplugs to get any sleep when he’s in town.”
“We . . . I . . . must you?”
“Which is exactly what I say when it’s two in the morning and you guys are still at it.”
Kyrie made a noise that Jenna interpreted as a cross between a shriek and a swear word. In either case, it came out so garbled that laughter was the only proper response.
“Get over yourself.” Jenna snagged a pillow and tossed it toward Kyrie, who grabbed it, hugged it, and glared. “I’m just torturing you.”
“Right. Now I have a complex. I’ll never be able to do anything in this apartment again.”
“Nah, don’t worry. The sound doesn’t go through the walls. Honest.” Jenna grinned. “But you know, your bedroom is right over the cash register area of the shop . . .”
Kyrie let loose with the strangled-moose noise again, and Jenna burst out laughing. Damn, but she loved teasing her sister.
When Kyrie had first suggested that Jenna come live with her and help with the shop, thereby giving Kyr more freedom to spend time in Philly with her now-fiancé Ben, Jenna had been wary.
Much as she loved her sister, she hadn’t been sure that this was the best solution. They hadn’t shared a living space in years. Worse, when they had, they’d been horribly mismatched. Jenna was a night owl while Kyrie was one of those horrible people who loved early mornings. Kyrie liked schedules, Jenna loved freedom. Kyrie did coffee and yoga, Jenna did iced tea and naps.
Add in the fact that the apartment was atop a very long set of very challenging stairs—ones that would have given Jenna a run for her breath even without a bad leg—and yeah. She’d been a little more than uncertain.
But time, or experience, or the simple fact that Jenna didn’t have a lot of options all meant that she’d had to give the idea consideration. The prenup she had so willingly signed entitled her to walk away from her marriage with barely enough to pay for a couple of years of tuition and medical insurance. In a fit of something that Kendall probably thought was generosity but Jenna knew was a face-saver, he had agreed to cover her deductibles and co-pays while she was back in school—go him—but that was about it.
And, as Jenna had quickly discovered, there weren’t a lot of jobs open for a woman without a degree, without much experience in anything but being an unpaid event planner, and with a need to schedule in a shitload of physical therapy.
So she had taken Kyrie up on the offer. Much to her surprise, it had worked. Kyrie was only around half the time, Jenna was too focused on juggling school, work, and recovery to keep her old hours, and it turned out that living together as adults—without Neenee to keep an eye on them—was actually kind of fun. Jenna was going to miss these days once she moved on.
Not that she was going to let it stop her. But still.
“If you must know,” Kyrie said, “Paige is coming over tomorrow afternoon. We have to go over wedding stuff. If you’re available, you can sit in and tell us how ridiculous we’re being.”
“Ridiculous because of the whole double-wedding thing? Nah. I think it’s adorable.” A little schlocky, but hey. That was allowed. As long as the right bride left with the right groom, the rest was gravy. “Thanks, but I’m booked.”
“With what? You’re not on the schedule then and I know you don’t have a class.”
“Nope. I’m lending a hand at the campaign headquarters two doors down.”
The astonishment on Kyrie’s face was almost worth paying for. “Hang on. You are helping someone run for office? You?”
“It was Bree’s idea.” Okay, Cole had suggested it first, but still. “She said I need to beef up my résumé.”
“Oh.” Kyrie peeled herself away from the bedpost she’d been hugging—apparently she’d needed the support after Jenna’s announcement—and joined Jenna on the bed. “You know,” she said slowly, “we haven’t talked much about what happens after you graduate. I know you want to get a real job, and I completely understand, but just so we’re clear, I’m not in any hurry for you to leave. You can take your time. Make sure you find the right place for you, not just taking the first job that comes along. I want you to be happy, Jen.”
The sentiment was so unexpected and so obviously heartfelt that Jenna had to make a couple of attempts before she could speak. “Thanks, babe. I appreciate it.”
“I know you think that when I asked you to work here, I was doing it to be nice. And yeah, that was a little bit of it. But it’s turned out so well. I love being able to spend a week or two with Ben and know that I’m leaving you in charge, and everything will run perfectly while I’m gone, and it will all be safe and secure and . . . well. You know.”
Since the manager who had preceded Jenna had stolen enough money from Kyrie to make her almost lose the place, yeah. Jenna knew.
“It worked out well for both of us,” she said. “And I am going to get all sloppy and sappy and tell you that you have no idea how much I owe you. Things would have been a lot scarier if I hadn’t been able to come here.” She pushed the textbook aside and squeezed Kyrie’s shoulder. “But it’s time for us to move on. You and me both.”
Kyrie made a face. “I know. Part of me is excited about heading out on the road with Ben and setting up my little coffee shop on wheels wherever his research takes him. It’s going to be good. But I admit, it won’t be the same, knowing you’re not here keeping things chugging along while I’m gone.”
“Are you sure you want to keep this place? I mean, what are the odds that you’ll ever end up back here?”
“You’re right. I know. Sometimes I think, nope, I’ll just sell it and have my funky RV coffee truck and focus on life wherever Ben’s work lands him. But I’m not ready to give up this place. Not yet.”
“I can’t stay here forever, Kyr. I need to see what it’s like to live someplace where no one knows me. Someplace where I can take chances and screw up without people saying that I’m just like Dad. Or that now they understand why Kendall left me.”
“People say that to you?” Kyrie’s expression went from astonished to hostile in the space of a heartbeat. “I hope it wasn’t anyone here.”
“None of the staff.” At least not to her face. “Sometimes a customer will let something slip, but it’s easier to deal with that than with the ones who cop a feel.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Asses, every one of them.”
“Agreed.” Curiosity—and, okay, a deep desire to not return to the case study she was supposed to be researching—had Jenna leaning back and eyeing her sister. “You don’t get those kind of comments from people?”
“Well, I was never married to the richest man in three counties, so that’s off the table right there. But as for Dad . . .” Kyrie shrugged. “I guess I’ve heard a few things. They never really registered, though.”
“Probably because you were always more grounded than me. You weren’t running around giving people an invitation to write you off, like I used to do.”
“Come on, Jen. You were never that bad.”
“Come on, Kyrie. You really think I would have let my little sister know that the reason I kept switching majors in school was because I kept being disinvited from programs? If I hadn’t quit to marry Kendall, I would have had to leave anyway. Academic probation can only be extended so many times.” She frowned. “I’ll give Kendall this: he gave me a reason to stop being the party queen. Also the access to the high-priced help I needed to do it.”
“See? There’s always something good.” Kyrie leaned forward. “Which is why you shouldn’t be so fast to write off Calypso Falls. I mean, this is home.”
“It’s also our darling Daddy’s home now. And as they say, this town ain’t big enough for the both of us.”
“Jenna—”
“You still haven’t run into him, have you?”
“Nope. Bree, either. He tried to surprise Annie at work, but she wanted to nip that in the bud so she told him that if a convicted felon came within fifty feet of the day care, she could lose her license.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes ma’am. Total bull, but she convinced him. And did you hear about Margie?”
Jenna’s grin started somewhere deep inside. “What?”
“He made the mistake of showing up at the house while she was gardening. Before he could even say hello, she turned the hose on him.”
Jenna hooted with laughter. “Damn, I wish I could have seen that one.”
“Me too. And you know Margie. It wasn’t one little shot. She did some seriously prolonged spraying. Didn’t let up until he turned tail and ran.”
“Serves him right.” Jenna’s laugh stilled as she realized who hadn’t been mentioned yet. “What about Mom?”
“As far as I know, he hasn’t had any contact with her.”
Jenna thought back to the night when Neenee had told them that Rob was returning. “I wonder how she feels about that.”
“Relief, probably.”
“You think so? Knowing Mom, my guess is she’s probably trying to find a way to run into him. You know, accidentally on purpose. Just so she won’t get caught off guard.”
“Yeah, there’s that,” Kyrie said slowly. “Or she might be . . . I don’t know. Curious. She might want to see how he’s changed, if he’s still the man she loved.”
Jenna barked out a laugh. “Speaking as the only other divorced person in the family, I can assure you that it doesn’t work that way.”
“Right, but there’s a difference. Do you honestly think you and Kendall would have stayed together if not for the accident?”
“My lawyer would say yes.” At her sister’s glare, Jenna raised her hands. “Sorry. Force of habit. But if you want the truth . . . I’m not positive.”
“But you’ve said that things were bad. That you were getting fed up with his attitude and his scheming and his scummy business tactics.”
“None of that is under debate. The only question is whether or not I would have had the guts to walk away.”
Kyrie leaned back and gave Jenna a serious once-over. “Hang on. Are we talking about you? The girl once voted Most Likely To Try Anything?”
“Oh, Kyrie. It’s easy to be fearless when you’re a stupid kid who doesn’t know any better. But when you get older, and you see what a twit you were for blowing your chance at school, and you look at the lifestyle you have and compare it with what you’d end up with if you left, it gets a lot scarier.”
“So you think you might have stayed?”
“I hope not. But I can’t guarantee it.”
“You wouldn’t have.” Kyrie’s hand was warm and steady on Jenna’s. “I know you wouldn’t have stood by and watched that go on for much longer. You might have been scared, but our family is the specialist in starting over, right?”
Some might say I’m the fresh start.
Now why on earth was she thinking about Cole Dekker?
Jenna shook the memory of that smile out of her head. “And that’s all I’m looking for, Kyrie. A chance to start over. That’s why I’m going.”
“I know. But . . .”
“But what?” Jenna picked up her abandoned highlighter and leveled it at her sister. “You’re leaving, Kyrie. So’s Paige. And Lord only knows where Bree will land once she finishes school. How come you can all head into the world with birdies singing a happy song, but I get grief? “
“Because . . . I don’t know. It feels different.”
“Different can be good.”
“It can.” Kyrie shrugged. “I don’t know, Jen. It’s just, when I think of us all leaving, I feel like . . . like Paige and Bree and I are all going to something. But you . . . you’re going from something.”
“Okay, that didn’t make any sense at all.” Neither the words nor the kick of acknowledgment that they brought about.
“I guess it’s like this. We’re leaving because of our futures. You’re leaving because of your past. It’s not the same, Jenna.” Kyrie shook her head. “And if you want to know the truth, I don’t like it.”
***
Cole opted against saying anything about Jenna that night. Ram and Allison both had family commitments, and it didn’t feel right to make them among the last to know. Instead, he waited until he went home and poured himself an oversized bowl of cereal before opening his laptop and composing a message.
Hi all. First, thanks to everyone who put in the hours to get those signs designed and off to the printer on time. Great work. I can’t wait to see the fruits of your labors popping up all over town.
Next, we have a new volunteer on staff. I know that I don’t usually do this kind of group intro, but in this case, I think you’ll understand. Her name is Jenna Carpenter. Some of you may know her already, as she grew up here in Calypso Falls. Her name was Jenna Elias then.
I know. A whole bunch of you just choked and thought, Elias? What the hell is Cole thinking?
Trust me. Jenna is smart and quick, and she wants to be part of our efforts. She’s not her father. She deserves the same kind of chance as any of us, and she is to be judged only by her own actions, not those of anyone else.
I know you’ll all join me in welcoming her aboard and I trust you will strive to make her time on the team as productive and helpful as possible.
And by the way, Ram tells me that Thursday night will be Prep the Mailing night. If anyone is available, there’ll be pizza and loud music as my thanks.
He sent the e-mail, leaned back in his chair, and rolled his head from side to side to work out the kinks in his neck. He’d slept through his morning run for the last three weeks, and the hours in the chair were making him antsy. The nights without enough sleep had him aching like his grandfather.
And the thought of walking into headquarters and seeing Jenna smiling at him from behind a computer monitor left him doubting his own wisdom and sanity. Not to mention his resolve.
In another time, another place, he wouldn’t have hesitated to get to know her better. But this definitely wasn’t the point to start a relationship. The next time he got into something, he was going to do it right. He’d learned the hard way that relationships took time. Focused time. You couldn’t build something solid out of pockets of time, and right now, that was all he had.
Nope. Right now he needed to focus on the connections he already had. Like making sure he didn’t miss his nephew’s birthday party, because he was pretty sure his mother had said something about it but—crap—he couldn’t find anything on his calendar . . .
He shot off a quick note to his sister, rubbed the back of his neck, and dragged his attention back to the screen. Right. Legal eagle time. Personal injury case. Man out of work.
“Come on, Cole. The nice guy relying on you to get him a decent settlement doesn’t care that you were up until three o’clock writing a speech to give to the Lions Club.”
Pushing out of the damned chair, he did a couple of stretches and jogged in place for two minutes on the clock. As exercise went, it sucked, but at least it woke him up.
He returned to the screen, reviewing the statements from witnesses, jotting notes on the legal pad by his side. As always, the work pulled him in. Sometimes it took forever, but there always came a point when he forgot about his surroundings and slipped fully into the case.
This was why he had become a lawyer. This was why he still loved practicing law, even though his years in Corporate Land had almost beat it out of him. It was for moments like this, when he could take the materials in front of him and go over them line by line until he found the one piece that tipped the scale. That moment when he knew how he could make life better for someone who needed it. That was what had drawn him to law in the first place, and that was why he would still continue to take on a few carefully selected cases, even after the election. Because he wanted—needed—to help.
It was what had made him a second-rate corporate lawyer but a very effective personal one. All modesty aside, he knew that this was what would make him a good mayor. And all he had to do was convince fifty percent of the voters, plus one.
When he finally had a billable hour’s worth of work behind him, he closed the file and spared a moment for a last e-mail check.
TO: Cole Dekker
FROM: Ramalama Ding Dong
Subject: Re: Upcoming Date/New Volunteer
Greetings, oh Supreme Warrior. Thought I’d let you know that I’ve had six folks contact me already about your announcement. Two of them think you’re letting the whole “everyone deserves a chance” thing go too far this time. The other four expressed variations on the theme of a squirrel losing its nuts. I talked them all down, but damn, Cole. You might want to add chicken wings to that pizza, because morale is going to be a bit challenged until little Miss Elias wins folks over on her own.
In other news, my latest unofficial public opinion sample has you in a solid position against Tadeson. Of course, my sample was largely drawn from the kids at Padma’s nursery school, so this could just be due to the fact that Dekker is easier to say than Tadeson.
And by the way, you looked like hell the last couple of days. Get some sleep, will ya?
Cole let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. No one could get him like Ram. Times like this, he was kind of grateful.
The next e-mail had him sitting up straighter.
To: Cole Dekker
FROM: JustJenna
Subject: Re: Upcoming Date/New Volunteer
So how many team members have been chased away by my impending presence?
Oh shit. He hadn’t meant for her to feel guilty. He replied right away.
Don’t worry. No one has quit.
Her answer was swift.
Who’s worried? I was mentally calculating how many jobs I could take over. That résumé isn’t going to build itself.
He burst out laughing—longer and louder than her words deserved, he was pretty certain, but damn. She specialized in catching him off guard.
For the first time, he felt a flicker of pity for Tadeson. If Jenna worked out as Cole suspected she would, the poor sitting mayor wasn’t going to know what hit him.
***
On Thursday, Cole stepped back from the phone and the desk for a minute to take the temperature of the office.
It was Jenna’s first evening. Ram had introduced her around, as he did with all volunteers, and then got her settled at a desk with a stack of envelopes to be stuffed. It was the most menial work they had and Cole knew that Ram did it deliberately. People watched too many movies. They walked into an office and expected to be assigned to something glamorous and exciting, to be huddled around a desk conferring with the candidate over policy and platform. And yeah, they might get to that point.
But first they had to stuff envelopes. And make coffee. And take lists of voters to the desk so they could make cold calls.
A lot of folks never made it past the first couple of nights. Or they stuck around but got antsy, dropping hints, wondering when they would get to do something juicy. Cole knew that Ram expected Jenna to be one of those. She wasn’t here because she believed in his candidacy; she was here to gain job-worthy experience. Stuffing envelopes wasn’t something anyone would be highlighting on a résumé.
But there she sat, hands moving quickly and efficiently across the piles of papers, head up and ears obviously tuned in to the conversations taking place around her. She hadn’t said anything yet. But he knew she was filing it all away.
The initial stiffness when she entered was beginning to ease. The camaraderie that they usually shared wasn’t back in full force, not yet, but he was pretty sure it would return. Jenna wasn’t being a diva, wasn’t bothering anyone, and wasn’t making a big deal out of her arrival. He was pretty sure that was going to help.
They’d been working an hour when the pizzas arrived. Jenna stood, stretched, and moved quietly to the conference table that served as Food Central. Cole watched while she asked Ram something, then disappeared into the kitchen. A moment later she appeared with a stack of paper products. She set them down in the empty space near the boxes, then said something else to Ram—something that had him looking up, cocking his head, and appearing to think over what she had said.
The next thing Cole knew, Ram was sliding the pizza boxes to the middle of the table, individual bowls of salads at their side, while Jenna set plates at one end. She then scooted to the other end, where she did something that looked like wrapping forks in napkins and standing them in a cup.
Cole saw the beauty of her plan right away. Instead of juggling plate, fork, and napkin while getting their food, folks would have only one thing to manage at a time. A tiny improvement, to be sure, but one that he liked.
He caught her eye and winked. She shrugged like it was no big deal. Which, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t.
But he couldn’t keep from feeling that this was just the beginning.