Chapter 20
I wiped my hands on the dishtowel and hung it on the hook next to the sink. “Thanks for helping clean up,” I said to Jim, giving one last swipe to the drainboard with the dishrag. We’d done the dishes and pots in near silence. Every time I tried to comment on the dinner or the murder investigation, I got a monosyllable in return and finally gave up.
“Not a problem.” He rolled his sleeves back down and buttoned the cuffs with quick movements. “Think we could take a look at the article?” he asked.
So that was why he’d stayed. It sure hadn’t been for the conversation. Something was going on with him, no question. I supposed I could simply ask him. But no, I’d let him tell me when he was good and ready.
“Sure, if Danna sent the link. Come on in here.” I gestured for him to follow me into the living room. It wasn’t a big space, but I loved the tall windows looking out onto the old barn and the woods beyond. I’d furnished it with my desk, a small sofa, and an easy chair. The wood on the sleek coffee table and end tables shone, partially from the love Mom had put into crafting them for me. A big split-leaf philodendron I’d nurtured since high school reached for the ceiling in the corner of the room. Birdy, who’d made himself scarce when we were eating dinner, lay on the back of the sofa curled up in a sleeping ball of black and white.
I sat and scrolled through my email until I saw one from Danna. “There it is.” I clicked the link and pointed to the article on my laptop screen.
Jim sank to his knees on the floor next to my wheeled chair, his left arm around the back of the chair. His face came right above my shoulder and I was stunned by how intimate it seemed sitting this way. He smelled like himself again, but I still caught a faint trace of something sweet. I wanted to take his head in my arms, kiss it, stroke it. I know earlier I was doubting my feelings, but not in this moment. I wanted to—
He reached over to the touchpad and scrolled down in the article. I cleared my throat a little to calm down. This feeling obviously wasn’t mutual. At least not right now. When he reached the end he sank back on his heels and then sat on the floor, knees up, resting his arms on them.
“Not much more than Danna told you.” He swore and shook his head. “Did Samuel send his nephew’s name yet?” He gazed up at me.
I checked. “No, not yet. But they probably just got back to Adele’s, and I imagine he has the information at his own house.”
“So I won’t get it tonight.”
“I doubt it. I’m sure Samuel is staying over at Adele’s. They do sleep together, you know,” I said. “But I’m sure he’ll send it along tomorrow. Or have Adele do it.”
He looked at the floor again.
“Let me do a search for the reporter’s name.” I tried several options, but didn’t see anything new. “No luck there.”
“I’ll have to wait,” Jim said.
“So.” I swirled the chair until I faced him. The heck with waiting. “You really never told me about your past with Octavia. Will you now?”
“You don’t want to leave that alone, do you?” He shoved himself up to standing and stuck his hands in his pockets, gazing down at me. He didn’t smile.
“No.” I smiled, instead, to soften my refusal to let go of the topic. “Did something terrible happen? Did you guys conspire to kill her husband or something?” I said lightly.
He let out a groan and sank down onto the sofa. “I told you we dated about ten years ago. She was going through her state police training in Bloomington. I’d recently moved back here and opened my practice after law school. We met at the contra dance and I fell really hard in love with her. Really hard. She’s very smart, and she has a passionate side hidden behind her all-business all-the-time attitude.” He took off his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.
I winced. Like I wanted to hear about Octavia’s passionate side. I watched him. So they’d met at the contra dance. Maybe Jim kept going to the dance hoping Octavia would show up again. Or out of nostalgia. I wished he hadn’t taken me to the same dance. “What happened?”
“She was in love with me, too. We were both busy, but we spent weekends together, and that summer we went up for two whole weeks to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and stayed in a cabin her family owns.” He gazed at the dark window as if he could see the six hundred miles to Sault Sainte Marie. “I knew our time was short there, and I didn’t even want to go to sleep because I knew it would mean I would miss out on hours of being with her.”
I waited. I was getting a bad feeling about this. But I waited.
“What happened was she was married when I met her,” he finally went on. “And she decided to go back to her husband. She’s a few years older than I am—she must be forty by now. Her husband was twenty years older than her and wasn’t in good health. She didn’t feel she could leave him.” He finally met my eyes. “It broke my heart. I’d never loved anyone like that.”
“You’re still in love with her.” It seemed so obvious I didn’t know why I hadn’t seen it before.
“I don’t know. I’ve always wondered if it would have worked out between us once we’d gotten over the giddy phase. We never had the chance to try.”
“Have you seen her this week?”
He sank his face into his hands. After what seemed like a year, he raised his head and patted the couch next to him.
“Come and sit?”
The dread in my stomach was cold and hard, but I went to the sofa and sat. Not right next to him, but a foot away. I twisted to face him.
“I really, really like you, Robbie. You know that, right?” He reached for my hand.
I nodded without speaking. I let him hold my hand, my fingers shorter and broader than his long, slender ones. A faint haze of fine red hair coated the back of his freckled hand, a contrast to my smooth olive skin.
“I like the way we are together. I admire you and I love spending time with you.” He studied our linked hands, then looked up. “When you said Octavia was in town it stunned me. I hadn’t seen her or heard from her in a decade, but all those old feelings gushed up like it was yesterday.”
“Have you seen her this week?” I couldn’t help my voice coming out as if it were crafted of cold steel. I drew my hand away and rested it in my lap.
He gazed at me with sad eyes, then set his hands on his knees and sat up as straight as a piece of reinforcing bar. “I lied about the real estate guy.”
Guess I called that one right.
“Octavia spoke to me after Erica’s service. I met her in Nashville for a quick drink after I left the Berrys’. That’s why I was late getting here.”
“I thought you smelled like a woman’s scent.” I clamped my lips together.
“All we did was have a drink, Robbie.”
And some kissy face, too, no doubt. I’ve never yet met a bottle of beer that gave off a sweet aroma.
“Does she know you’ve been seeing me?” I didn’t let my voice wobble.
“I didn’t tell her.”
“Nice.” I narrowed my eyes. “Is she still married?”
He examined his hands. “Her husband died last year.”
Birdy slept next to my right ear. He stirred a little and gave out a soft sigh in his uncomplicated feline dream. “Well, how lovely for you.” I stood, my very complicated feelings roiling inside me. Birdy opened his eyes and leapt to the floor in one movement, tearing into the kitchen.
“Robbie . . .” Jim reached for my hand, his eyes imploring me, but I took a step back.
“You go on and figure out what you want. Who you want. It’s been nice knowing you.” I turned and followed Birdy. I didn’t know if I was going to start bawling or smash a dish on the floor. Maybe both at the same time if he didn’t get out of my house.