by Sandy James
After opening the door wide, Yvonne motioned for Joslynn to enter. “Come in.”
Joslynn gave Yvonne the plate. “I made the two of you some chocolate chip cookies.”
“How kind. Let’s go to the kitchen. We’ll have some tea.” As they passed from the foyer to the family room, Yvonne inclined her head toward her husband, who was sound asleep in a reclining chair. “He likes a short nap before supper.”
With a smile, Joslynn followed her into the kitchen. When Yvonne swept her hand toward the table, Joslynn took that as an invitation. Pulling out a chair, she put her purse on the floor and sat down.
Yvonne peeled the cellophane from the plate and set it in front of Joslynn. “Have a cookie while I pour us some tea.”
“Thanks, but I ate plenty of the dough. I’m still full.” A lie, but there was no need for her to launch into all the reasons she seldom ate sweets.
After pouring two glasses of iced tea, Yvonne set one of them in front of Joslynn. Then she pulled out a chair and sat as she sipped her own tea. “We really did get off on the wrong foot, didn’t we? I’m sorry for that. I was just frantic over Baron.”
“I totally understand. I see plenty of frantic people at work. You were actually quite calm.” Taking a deep breath, Joslynn finally asked, “Why didn’t you want Russ to know I treated you at the ER?”
Yvonne dropped her gaze.
“If I remember right, you only had a cut on your arm that I had to stitch up.”
“I didn’t want to tell Russell about that.”
Suddenly, Joslynn understood. “Baron cut you, didn’t he?”
Still staring at her tea, Yvonne nodded.
“You told me you broke a glass.”
“Baron was the one who broke it by smashing it against a table when he was…confused. He cut me with the jagged edge because he thought I was someone else.” Her worried gaze found Joslynn. “He thought he was back in grade school, that a bully was hurting him. He was only defending himself.”
Things were worse than Joslynn had thought, and it was obvious Yvonne didn’t want her son to know how badly the Alzheimer’s was affecting Baron. “Your hand looks like it’s healed well.”
“It has. Thanks.” Quiet settled as Joslynn watched Yvonne fiddling with the plastic container holding a few paper napkins, clearly thinking through something. Waiting patiently, Jos thought about the best way to share the information she’d brought along with her. If Yvonne wasn’t ready to set her pride aside and admit that she needed help, there wasn’t much Joslynn could do.
Yvonne finally spoke. “May I ask you a question? About Baron?”
“Of course.”
“Do you…?” Yvonne swallowed hard. “Do you think there’s any chance—any chance at all—that he’ll get better?”
The hurt in her voice almost made Joslynn cry. She saw so much pain and loss at the hospital, and despite her best efforts to keep her distance, she often shared the emotional turmoil of her patients. In this case, Yvonne and Baron were Russ’s parents, and they faced an uphill battle that simply couldn’t be won. That thought brought an acute feeling of unfairness and a wave of sadness.
When she noticed the hand Yvonne now rested on the table was trembling, Joslynn reached over to offer a comforting touch. The moment her hand covered Yvonne’s, the woman grabbed it, holding on tightly.
“Alzheimer’s is degenerative,” Joslynn said, keeping her voice soft, as though that would make breaking the bad news easier.
Staring at her glass of tea, Yvonne tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth.
“I don’t know of anyone who has come back from it. I know that’s hard to hear.”
A curt nod.
“But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a lot more years together,” Joslynn said. “There are good meds that can slow the progress, and there are resources that will help you and Baron cope with your situation.”
When Yvonne turned her head to look at Joslynn, there were tears welling in her eyes.
Joslynn gave her hand a squeeze. “I’d like to help you two.”
“I shouldn’t have lied to you earlier,” Yvonne said, sniffling. She dropped Joslynn’s hand to grab a paper napkin and dab her eyes. “I was just so worried…”
“Totally understandable.” Joslynn picked up her purse. “You were worried about your husband.” She pulled out the plastic bag full of information she’d assembled before her visit. “I have some resources for you, if you’d like to take a look at them. I can give you some phone numbers, too. There are people that can help you.”
Yvonne offered a weak smile but didn’t ask for any of those numbers. “I can’t thank you enough for coming here.”
Joslynn smiled. “And thank you for giving me a second chance.” Checking her watch, she realized she needed to be on her way. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a yoga class to teach soon.”
“Yoga? Oh my, that sounds like fun.”
“You’ll have to join us sometime.” Slinging her purse over her shoulder, Joslynn stood. “Thank you for the tea.”
“Thank you for the cookies.” Yvonne got to her feet. “I’ll walk you to the door.” In the foyer, she gave Joslynn a heartfelt hug. “Come again, honey. Promise you will.”
“Hang on a second.” Joslynn fished around in her purse, trying to find one of her business cards. After grabbing one, she found a pen and wrote her cell number on the back of the card before handing it to Yvonne. “I promise, but only if you promise to tell me if there’s anything I can do to help. All you ever have to do is call.”
Yvonne frowned. “Please don’t tell Russell about the cut. I—I don’t want to worry him.”
“I won’t tell him about the cut. But you should know that Russ wants to help any way he can.”
Chapter Eleven
The next day, Joslynn grabbed her hoodie and then picked up the apple pie she’d baked. The spring evening was comfortable at the moment, but she always liked to be prepared for the cold. She’d baked the pie that afternoon, although Savannah had told her she didn’t need to bring anything. Jos never liked to turn up as a guest without something to offer her hostess. Besides, according to Yvonne, apple pie was one of Russ’s favorites.
She hadn’t mentioned her trip back to the Greens’ house, mostly because there wasn’t anything new to tell him. If she told him, then she’d have to explain that his mother had been in the ER, and she’d promised Yvonne she’d keep that secret.
Besides, what was there to tell? All it would do would be to make him worry about his parents more, and he was under enough stress.
When he made no move to take either the garment or the dessert, Joslynn smiled to herself. He’d been so respectful of her wishes to be independent. She only hoped that whatever woman was next to enter his life would forgive her for conditioning him to forget his gentlemanly practices.
Why did the mere thought of Russ with another woman make her frown so fiercely?
Unwilling to explore her motivations, she headed toward the gate in the wrought-iron fence. Joslynn led the way to the enormous backyard. Russ closed the gate behind them and followed her to the three-tiered patio.
“Welcome!” Savannah said as she stepped through the open double doors. Setting a pitcher of lemonade on the glass table, she came over to hold out her hands.
Joslynn handed over the pie. “I brought some dessert.”
“Looks yummy.” Savannah’s brows knit. “Eat a piece later, Jos. You’re getting too skinny.”
Joslynn knew she was a few pounds lighter, probably because she’d been running so much. “I will. Where’s my goddaughter?”
“Spending the night with my parents,” Savannah replied before grinning at Russ. “Gotta say I’ve always wanted to see you and Jos coming here together.”
With a roll of his eyes, he said, “So you told me. A million times.”
A sharp whistle made Joslynn shift her gaze to the backyard. Brad and Ethan were playing corn hole, and she wasn’t at all su
rprised when Russ excused himself and went jogging over to join them. He spoke of them so often, she was beginning to realize how important his two friends were to him. Since she felt that way about Savannah—and was starting to view Chelsea Harris as a confidante—Jos understood the need to have the support of friends.
“Let’s go inside,” Savannah said. “I could use a glass of wine.”
“That sounds heavenly.” Joss fell in step behind her. After crossing the threshold into the kitchen, she saw Chelsea standing at the island cooktop, stirring something in a large pot. “How are you, superstar?” she teased.
The redhead glanced up from her task. “Hi, Doc. I’m doing fine. How about you?”
“Life is good,” Joslynn replied. Then she picked up a carrot stick from the vegetable tray and took a bite.
Before they could start a conversation, a voice called from the open doors. “Knock, knock. Can I come in?” An African-American woman Joslynn didn’t recognize was peeking into the kitchen.
“Come in, Leslie,” Savannah said, motioning for her to enter.
The woman was a good foot taller than Savannah. While Joslynn was accustomed to being one of the tallest women in any room, Leslie had at least four inches of height on her.
Setting a covered bowl on the island, Leslie turned to talk to a man who’d followed her inside. “Ladies, this is my brother, Marc.”
Probably in his early thirties, the guy wore his hair short and neat, the same as his tidily trimmed beard. He was dressed in a white polo shirt and gray shorts. His physique was sleek and strong, although his muscles weren’t quite as well developed as Russ’s.
Chelsea gave him a little wave and kept working on whatever was in the pot.
Since Marc wasn’t staring at her in response, either he didn’t know Chelsea was one of the biggest stars in country music, or he wasn’t impressed by her celebrity.
“Glad you could make it, Marc,” Savannah said. “Since I know the guys are anxious to talk to you, why don’t I grab you a beer and you can go meet them outside? They probably want to conduct a little business before Brad puts the steaks on the grill.” She opened the refrigerator door. “Is there a particular brand you prefer?”
“I’m not choosy,” Marc replied. His gaze settled on Joslynn. A smile blooming on his face, he came to stand beside her. If his sister was tall, this man was a giant. “Pick one for me.” His gaze swept her from head to toe, and his smile grew.
Before she met Russ, Joslynn might have responded to that inviting grin with a bit of flirtation. Marc was an attractive guy. Although she had no idea how he and Leslie knew the other people at the cookout, she recognized a welcoming face—and this man was definitely interested in her. Yet she felt not an ounce of pull toward him…
Odd.
He held out his hand. “Marc Guinan. And you are…?”
“Joslynn Wright.” She shook his hand, not surprised at his firm handshake. “I’m a good friend of Savannah’s.”
Inclining his head at his sister, he said, “Leslie just got promoted to head chef at Words and Music. She said her bosses wanted to have a talk with me about their marketing plan since they knew that was my area of expertise.”
No wonder they were at Brad’s place. Jos couldn’t imagine anyone more valuable to the three partners than the person who ran their kitchen. If her brother was in marketing, they’d want to see what he could do for Words & Music. “Nice to meet you, Leslie.”
“Back at’cha,” she said. Then she peeled the cellophane off the bowl she’d brought, revealing what looked to be a salad filled with large peach slices. “New recipe. Grilled peach salad with mustard vinaigrette. I’m anxious to see what everyone thinks.”
Chelsea let out a chuckle. “Like you ever cook anything that isn’t sinfully delicious.”
“Best compliment I could get,” Leslie said.
Clearly impatient, Savannah set the beer bottle aside, grabbed a fork, and scooped up some of the salad. Humming as she chewed, she nodded at Leslie. “Fabulous. Is it going on the menu?”
“Thanks,” Leslie replied. “And hopefully. I’d love to have it available all summer, if the guys allow it.”
“No way they’ll refuse.” After setting her fork in the sink, Savannah snatched up the beer and handed it to Marc. “The guys are playing corn hole, so be sure to grab some beanbags on your way out. They’re sitting on the patio ledge.”
“Corn hole?” He laughed. “What’s corn hole?”
Dropping her jaw, Chelsea shot him an incredulous stare. “Are you serious? Corn hole is only the best game ever invented.”
Savannah tapped his longneck with her finger. “Plus, the more you drink, the more fun it gets.”
“Well, then…this I gotta see.” Marc lifted the bottle in salute and then took a drink. “If you ladies will excuse me, it appears I need to receive a quick education in what exactly corn hole involves.” He strode out of the kitchen, giving Joslynn a wink as he left.
“I should probably tag along with him,” Leslie said, pausing at the door. “After all, the head chef might want some say in how we market the restaurant. Besides, that’s my baby brother heading out to the lions’ den. Those three can be intimidating when they’re together.” She jogged out of the kitchen, a wave of laughter in her wake.
“Damn,” Chelsea said, tapping her spoon against the rim of the pot and then setting it aside. “That is one fine-looking man.”
“Whoa there, girl,” Savannah said, a teasing lilt in her voice. “What would Ethan say if he heard you talking about another guy?”
After putting a lid on the pot, Chelsea shrugged. “I might be in love with Ethan, but I’ve still got eyes in my head.” She glanced to Joslynn. “Being tied down doesn’t stop a girl from appreciating a nice ass.”
“Amen to that, sister.” Savannah held up her hand to invite a high five from Chelsea, who gave her palm a loud slap.
Funny, but Joslynn hadn’t noticed the guy’s backside. That was unusual since it was her favorite part of a man’s body.
Well, at least my second favorite…
Maybe she hadn’t checked out his butt because she was taking the relationship stuff more seriously than she’d realized. Savannah was married, and Chelsea was engaged. Yet they both took notice of Marc. What Joslynn had thought was that Russ was better looking.
Savannah broke into her reverie. “How are things going with Russ?”
“Fine. At least I think they’re fine,” Jos replied, feeling no hesitation in speaking freely in front of her friends. “We’ve had some nice dates. I’m…comfortable around him.”
“That sounds promising,” Chelsea said.
“Very promising,” Savannah added. “Jos doesn’t do relationships.”
Chelsea’s brows knit as she stared at Joslynn. “What’s that mean?”
Joslynn shrugged. “I hate the idea of losing my independence.”
“Aren’t you lonely?”
With a shake of her head, Jos said, “I like being alone. Besides, a date every now and then is fine. I just don’t want to be smothered by some guy.”
“But Russ is different,” Savannah said. “He might be ‘the one.’”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Joslynn cautioned. “We’re dating. That’s all. And we run together several times a week. I’m hoping it’ll help him with his stress level.”
“Thank God for that,” Savannah said, sounding relieved. “The man has been driving Brad bat-shit crazy, like he’s always looking for a fight. He’s fine when he pulls his management shifts. But when he helps the bouncers…not so much.”
The criticism made Joslynn bristle, which seemed odd considering she also thought he should get away from Words & Music more often. “He’s just stressed.”
“Of course he is, but so are Brad and Ethan. They both make sure they have other things in their lives to maintain some balance, and they sure don’t enjoy tossing drunks out on their asses.”
Chelsea plucked a bottle
of wine from the refrigerator and refilled her almost empty wineglass. “Ethan says Russ has been a little…out of control. I mean, it seems like he looks for any hint of a fight so he can lay hands on some troublemaker.”
“Think about it, Jos,” Savannah added. “He pretty much appeared in your life by showing up at your ER to get stitches because he was grappling with some drunk.”
The truth of their words was there, but Joslynn had an almost overwhelming need to defend Russ anyway. Where had her need to be brutally honest gone? Normally, she’d be jumping right into the fray, telling her friends that she’d been every bit as concerned about his behavior and was doing everything she could to help him. Instead, she just shook her head, refusing to criticize him.
Savannah, always in tune with Joslynn’s moods, must have sensed the time had come for a change of topic. “I think we’re ready to put on the steaks. How about we tell the guys to quit playing games and come get some work done?”
* * *
As Marc marched toward the house, his sister at his side, Russ turned back to his partners “I think we made the right choice hiring him.”
Ethan nodded. “He knows his stuff. Once we start that new ad campaign, I think we’ll see increased sales.”
“I haven’t been happy with Hallick and Associates for a while,” Brad said. “I’m glad you guys were willing to give Marc a chance.”
“Hell,” Russ said, “I would’ve hired him just because he’s Leslie’s brother. She’s the hardest worker I’ve ever known—including you bozos. He seems like he’s adopted the same work ethic.”
“Brad!”
Turning to see Savannah waving from the deck, Russ grinned. “Looks like it’s time to put the steaks on the grill.”
A moment later, eighties music filled the air, the typical soundtrack to the Friday-evening cookouts. As the partners headed back to the house, they were serenaded by REO Speedwagon.
Josie strode through the doors, carrying a large bowl. Before she could set it on the table, Marc jogged up to her and swept it from her hands before putting it down. The smile that had been on Russ’s face dropped to a fierce frown as Marc took her hand, twirled her in a pirouette, and then pulled her into his arms and began to dance with her.
