Jessica’s mother lived in a large Victorian house in the best section of town. Emily’s older daughter, Sara, and her husband, Luke McAllister, had been living with Lillian for the past two years, ever since Lillian had taken a fall on the attic stairs, making it clear that she needed more help and company than she’d ever admit.
“Your mother’s house?” She could tell from Sam’s expression that he hated the idea. He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Did she even invite us?”
Jessica had been over to visit her mother a few days after the fire. Lillian had been sympathetic, most of the time. But she hadn’t mentioned housing them.
“Um, no. But I’m sure if I asked her, she would agree. She’s not totally heartless.” Jessica wished she didn’t sound so defensive. Her mother was difficult, no question. Sam, though, never cut Lillian any slack.
“No, not totally heartless,” he conceded, and Jessica could hear the unsaid words: Just mostly heartless.
Jessica ignored his reply, sinking her head into her hands. Tyler and Noah’s conflicts were nothing compared to the lousy chemistry between her mother and Sam. Maybe that match wouldn’t be such a good idea either. But any place seemed better than Molly’s right now.
“My mother invited us for lunch after church tomorrow. I’ll ask her if we can stay a little while.”
“I guess we’ll just have to see how she feels about it,” Sam said tactfully. She could tell he hoped her mother would say no.
She folded a T-shirt and placed it on the top of the pile. “I guess so.”
IT HAD BEEN A BUSY DAY AT THE TREE FARM. JULIE HAD BEEN A WHIRLWIND, helping customers choose the trees and get them loaded onto their vehicles. After a while, Jack just tried to stay out of her way. He had been outside, too, hobbling about on his crutches and helping where he could, spelling Julie when she needed to take care of Kate.
Kate was an easy child. She was content to play in the snow or “help” her mother with the customers. Julie also had her play in the Christmas shop, making decorations with the craft supplies she found there. That distraction had amused the little girl for quite a while, though the sight of activity in the deserted shop had brought a pang to Jack’s heart.
Julie had talked about making dinner, but Jack insisted on taking care of the meal. He had been feeding himself for a long time and didn’t need her to wait on him. He also felt obliged to do his share, since she had been working hard outside all day.
He found a store-bought lasagna in the freezer and heated it up in the oven then added a bowl of salad on the side. Not much, he thought, calling them both to dinner.
“Wow, this looks great.” Julie smiled as she took her place. “I’m starved,” she admitted.
“The cold makes you hungry.” Jack dished out the portions as she passed the plates. “I hope Kate likes this stuff. If she doesn’t want it, I can fix her something else.”
“Kate loves pasta, don’t worry. She’ll eat as much as you,” Julie warned him.
The little girl dug in hungrily. They were both so easy to please, making him feel like Superman. He had to remind himself to keep some perspective.
“Katie made some beautiful decorations today,” Julie remarked. She touched Katie’s hair. “We ought to show Jack.”
Jack stiffened; it was a touchy subject for him. “Sure. You can show me later,” he said. “When you’re done with dinner.”
“You can keep them. For your Christmas tree,” Kate offered.
Jack glanced at her. “I don’t have a Christmas tree. But thanks anyway.”
Kate looked puzzled. “Why not?”
Jack shrugged. He couldn’t find an answer that wasn’t too curt. “I don’t know. I just don’t need one anymore. Okay?”
Kate’s eyes widened. She looked as if she might cry. Jack realized his tone had been too harsh and was instantly sorry. But he didn’t know what to do.
Julie spoke up, her tone soothing. “You can bring the decorations to school, Katie. You can give them to Mrs. Jensen for a Christmas present. I bet she’d love that.”
Julie had enrolled Kate in a preschool at a church in town. It was good for Kate to be with children her own age, to be learning and playing. It gave her a sense of structure and kept her from thinking too much about the divorce, Julie had explained. It sounded to him like the child had been through a lot this past year.
“Hey, great idea,” Jack said, with a little too much enthusiasm. “I bet your teacher will love that. I bet she has a great Christmas tree. No sense wasting them on me,” he added.
Kate didn’t answer. She stared at him a moment then looked up at her mother. “Can I get up now? I’m finished.”
Julie nodded. “Why don’t you go upstairs and play? You’re going to have a bath soon.”
They both watched Katie leave the room. Jack glanced at Julie. He didn’t feel like eating any more either.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare her.”
“I know.” Julie sighed. He guessed she might be angry at him but didn’t want to start an argument.
“I just . . . don’t want a Christmas tree anymore. I didn’t know how to explain it.” When she didn’t reply, he added, “it’s hard to talk to children if you aren’t used to them. I was never much good at it.”
He thought of David, the way they had butted heads time and again once his son became a teenager. Claire had always been a buffer between them, forcing them to talk things out and reconcile. But once she was gone, Jack didn’t know how to keep the peace anymore. It wasn’t long after his wife’s death that he and his son had their final blowup and then David was gone.
“I think you talk to her pretty well,” Julie remarked. “Most of the time.”
He shrugged. That last bit hadn’t been one of his better moments, for sure.
“She hasn’t really been the same since the divorce. Her father, my ex-husband, had a terrible temper. He scared her. Now she’s afraid of men. Especially angry ones,” Julie carefully explained.
Jack wasn’t exactly surprised by Julie’s admission. He could see the child was withdrawn and skittish. But the sudden realization that Julie and her daughter had been at the mercy of some angry, even abusive husband was disturbing.
Maybe that’s why Julie is practically oblivious to my foul moods, he thought. She was used to far worse.
“I don’t mean to pry but—what you said before—your ex really doesn’t see Kate?” It was hard to imagine anyone having a kid like that and abandoning her.
“No.” Julie’s voice was tense. “He doesn’t have any interest in us, and frankly, that’s the best possible outcome.” She shrugged, as if shaking off memories.
Jack stood, picked up some dirty dishes, and limped over to the sink. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
He glanced over his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if she had even heard him.
When she didn’t answer he said, “I’m real sorry if I scared her. And if I asked you about something you would rather not discuss . . . well, it won’t happen again.”
Julie turned. “It’s okay. And as for Katie, I’m not blaming you, Jack. I just wanted you to understand.”
He nodded and scraped off the plates. He should have guessed. He should have been more aware of the kid and thinking less about himself. It made him feel small and selfish. Julie probably thought he was, too.
After cleaning up the kitchen, Jack went into his room to read. He heard Julie and Katie upstairs. Katie was getting her bath, and he heard them laughing and felt relieved. Kids could bounce back so easily. Not like adults.
A while later, he heard them down in the kitchen. He felt trapped in his bedroom and tried to focus on his book, a history book about World War II. He liked to read and would sometimes go through several books a month, especially in the winter. But tonight, he couldn’t seem to concentrate.
He had only gotten through a few pages when the scent of something baking tantalized his senses.
He heard Julie call to him. “
Jack? Would you like some cookies?”
He sighed and put the book down. Fresh-baked cookies. When was the last time he’d had one of those?
“What kind?” he yelled back, sounding choosy. Just to delay the inevitable, he knew.
He heard Julie laugh. “Picky, picky.”
Then Katie laughed, too.
“I’m not going to tell you,” Julie said. “You’ll have to come out and see. . . .”
He put down his book, got off the bed, and put a slipper on the foot without a cast. Then he smoothed out his flannel shirt and pushed back his hair. He still needed a haircut, but he had trimmed his beard a little shorter, which helped him look less like a homeless person. He hoped.
He limped into the kitchen and saw Kate sitting at the table, fresh from her bath, wearing her pajamas and a robe. She looked like a little flower in a garden, he thought.
There was a dish of cookies on the table, chocolate chip. Kate was eating one with a glass of milk and Julie was at the stove, taking out another cookie sheet.
“Do they meet with your approval?” she asked.
He smiled at her. “My favorite kind. How did you guess?”
He sat at the table near Kate but not too close. She did seem afraid of him and he felt a little pang.
He reached out, took the entire plate of cookies and set it in front of his place. “These are all for me, right?” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
Kate looked surprised but didn’t say anything.
“They call me Cookie Monster around here, did you know that?”
She shook her head.
“Oh, well it’s true. I could eat ten dishes of cookies like this. No problem.”
“You’d get a tummy ache,” Katie warned him.
Jack shook his head. “Cookie monsters don’t get tummy aches.”
“That’s lucky,” Kate said.
He nodded. “Sure is.”
Julie walked over, smiling at him. She looked pleased that he was making an effort with Kate. It made him feel good inside to please her. Real good.
“Sorry, Monster, these cookies are for Kate’s class. You can only have one. Or maybe two,” Julie said, playing along with his game. “If you’re a good monster, I mean.”
He made a mock sad face that made Kate smile again. “Okay. I understand.”
“I’ll make you ten plates another time,” Julie promised.
“I’m going to remember that. You don’t want to go back on a promise to a monster, believe me.”
She laughed in earnest and he felt the same glow.
“You want some milk, Monster?” Kate offered him her cup.
He smiled at her. “Thanks. I’ll get my own. You drink that up. It will make you grow tall and pretty . . . like your mother.”
Whoops. How did that slip out? Jack didn’t dare look at Julie. He wasn’t sure she had even heard him.
“Want to see my book?” Kate drew closer, showing the picture book she had at the table.
“Sure, let’s take a look.” Jack was pleased by the invitation—and eager for any distraction.
“Why don’t you read it to her? It’s getting close to bedtime,” Julie said.
“Me?” Jack blinked.
“Sure. You can read. I’ve seen you,” Julie teased him. “It’s written for preschoolers. I think you can handle it.”
Kate stared at him with an expectant expression, and Jack knew he was stuck. But maybe that was okay. This was the moment to prove he wasn’t such a bad, scary guy after all, wasn’t it?
He looked down at the book again. The cover showed a little rabbit standing off by himself in a playground, looking rather apprehensive while a lot of other rabbits were busy playing.
“Okay, here we go. Lester Makes a Friend . . .” Well, so far I can relate, Jack thought.
The story was, as Jack expected, about a lonely rabbit named Lester who moves to a new neighborhood and doesn’t have a friend. He couldn’t remember the last time he had read a children’s book aloud. At first, he felt self-conscious and read the text in a flat, matter-of-fact tone. But Kate was quite involved in the story, though she had doubtless heard it a million times before. He found that out when he tried to skip a few lines.
She pulled her chair closer so she could see the pictures. The gesture pleased him for some inexplicable reason.
He soon got involved in the story, too. Lester was quite a likable little fellow with a number of traits that Jack couldn’t help but identify with. He found himself feeling sorry for Lester because the little bunny was so shy.
Before he knew it, Jack was reading Lester’s dialogue in a rabbit voice. This seemed to please Katie even more, so of course, he continued.
When the story was done, he saw that she wore a very thoughtful expression.
“Did you like that?”
She nodded, taking her book back. “Lester looks sad sometimes. But I like the ending.”
In the end, Lester learns that in order to have a friend, you have to be a friend. Though that was something Claire used to tell David, it made Jack think more about the present than the past.
“Me, too,” Jack said. “It was a good ending.”
“Okay, Kate. Bedtime,” Julie said. Kate nodded and slipped off the chair, carrying her book under her arm.
Julie glanced at Jack as they left the room. She didn’t say anything, but the look in her warm brown eyes reached right down and almost set his battered heart ticking again.
Almost, he thought.
He cleared his throat and picked up his own book again.
A short time later, Julie returned to the kitchen and began cleaning up the cookie sheets and ingredients. Jack sat with a cup of tea and his book, caught red-handed eating more cookies.
He glanced at her, his mouth full of crumbs. “Never get between a monster and a plate of cookies.”
She smiled at him. “I wouldn’t even try.”
She sat down across the table from him. Her cheeks were flushed from baking, and little curls had sprung out around her face from her ponytail. She never wore any makeup, he noticed. She didn’t need any.
She rested her chin in her hand, watching him read. He tried to ignore her, but it was impossible.
“Kate get off to sleep okay?” He knew she must have but couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“As soon as her head hit the pillow. She had a long day.”
“Didn’t we all.”
“It was nice of you to read to her. She enjoyed it.”
“I liked it, too. It was a good story,” he said honestly.
For some reason, that comment made Julie smile. Then she looked serious again. “Do you have any children, Jack? You’ve never said.”
The question stole his breath away. He shook his head, his gaze fixed on the page he had been reading, though the type suddenly blurred.
“We had a son,” he said quietly. “I lost him, too.”
“Oh . . . I’m sorry.” Julie sat back. She stared down at the table a moment then rose and walked to the counter and began putting things away.
He realized his reply had given the impression that David was dead. He hadn’t really meant to do that. He considered saying more, explaining what had happened. But then he felt he just couldn’t get into it. He didn’t want to.
What did it matter? He didn’t have to tell her his whole life story. It was better to keep some distance. A lot better.
Finally, the kitchen was tidy with everything in place and the counters spotless. Julie was very organized, Jack had noticed. In just a few days, she had cleared up his mess and made the entire house neat and clean.
“Well, I’m going up to bed. See you tomorrow.” Julie paused in the doorway. “I’m taking Kate to church tomorrow morning. Would you like to come with us?”
“Uh . . . no. Thanks. I’ll stick around here. There’ll be a lot of early customers tomorrow.”
“Oh, right. I almost forgot. I’ll be home a little after eleven, and I�
��ll work in the afternoon,” she said quickly.
“That’s all right. You take your time. You don’t have to work around the clock. That’s not what I expect.”
She nodded, suddenly looking self-conscious. Both of them seemed to forget that he was her employer now, paying for her help. It wasn’t a personal relationship, even though it often felt that way.
“Sure. Well, good night,” she said quickly.
“Good night, Julie.”
Jack listened to her footsteps, climbing the stairs to the second floor. He let out a long sigh. He had to keep her at a distance. That was for sure.
But it wasn’t easy. And it was getting harder every day.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IT WAS A CHALLENGE TO GET EVERYONE READY FOR CHURCH ON time, but somehow Jessica managed. She always made the boys wear good clothes on Sunday—dress pants and nice sweaters—especially when they were invited to her mother’s house afterward. She also knew that today her family would be the center of attention in their close-knit congregation. She didn’t want her children to look shabby, but jeans and sweatshirts were all that they had right now, so it would just have to do.
She would have been wearing the same if Emily had not insisted Jessica take some of her best outfits, including a beautiful navy blue suit. Emily claimed the skirt was too snug on her hips these days. Jessica knew that was just a gracious fib. Emily jogged nearly every morning and rarely gained a pound.
Her sister did have a closet packed with beautiful clothes and probably would never miss the suit. But it had been generous of her, Jessica thought, as she slipped on the finely tailored skirt and jacket.
Still, Jessica couldn’t help thinking about her own closet, all the items she’d enjoyed choosing in the stores and wearing, the special ones that made her feel attractive and stylish. She had to start from scratch with a wardrobe now—a project that might have been fun if she and Sam weren’t so worried about money.
“Jess, are you ready?” Sam called from the bottom of the staircase.
If she kept the boys waiting much longer, they would look a complete mess by the time they got in the car.
“I’ll be down in one minute,” she called back. She surveyed her reflection as she swiped on some lipstick. The sleeves of the jacket were too long and the shoulders too wide. But this is as good as it gets, pal, she told herself.
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