by Kim Law
His expression fell. “As in, her staying here in Birch Bay forever?” He’d been worried she’d leave without him getting a chance to talk to her.
“At least for a while,” Dani confirmed, and Jaden’s next thought was to wonder if Megan’s consideration of staying meant that she was changing her mind. Was she thinking she’d been rash in breaking up with him?
“Are you going to offer it to her?” He tried not to let too much hope creep in.
“I don’t know. She’s good. Really good. And she has big ideas. The website has been revamped already. She did the coding herself, but she also researched a better back-end solution for us. And I’ve already told you how our online sales have soared since she’s been here. That’s just in two months, Jay. Think of what else she could do.”
He could imagine. “How’s she handling everything so well when she has a second job?”
“She quit her other job.”
She’d given up the six-figure income she’d gone to school for? That was mind-boggling. But it must mean that she really did intend to stay.
And there had to be a reason for that.
He studied his sister, wondering how much Megan had shared with her, and then he found himself wanting to share something of his own. He might not want his big sister trying to play mom anymore . . . but she could play big sister.
“Did she tell you that I asked her to marry me that night?”
Her face crumpled. “Oh, Jay. No, she didn’t mention it. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I haven’t given up on her yet. I think she just needs some time.”
At least, he hoped that’s all she needed. Because he didn’t know what else to offer.
“What does Megan think about you staying with Arsula?”
He pushed the recliner into a horizontal position. “I’m not actually staying with her, you know? I’m staying in your office.”
“Semantics,” Dani muttered. “But okay. What does Megan think of you staying in the office? So Arsula can take care of you?”
He stared at the ceiling, considered pointing out that he didn’t actually need taking care of, but then had to admit to himself that Arsula had done a lot of that very thing during those first few days. Even though he’d been a total jerk. And even though she’d barely spoken to him while doing it.
Things had been slightly better over the last few days. They hadn’t spent all that much more time in each other’s company, but their conversations had consisted of a bit more than “what can I get for you” and “are you hungry.” He’d also noticed a slight warmth in her attitude toward him. Just as he knew his had thawed toward her.
“I don’t know what Meg thinks,” he finally admitted. And oddly, he was finding that he no longer cared as much. “I still can’t get her to talk to me.”
Granted, he hadn’t actually tried in days. Even though he’d asked Arsula for help Wednesday night, he hadn’t reached out to Megan since a couple of days before that.
“Are you okay with the idea of offering her the job?”
They’d be stupid not to keep her around if she wanted to stay. And not only because sales had risen significantly. Since the first time she’d seen the place, Megan had fallen in love with all things cherry. She was a perfect representative for the business. “You do whatever is best for the store. I’ll make it work.”
And possibly, he could still make them work.
Maybe.
“If she really wants the job,” Dani went on, “I’m going to insist she reach out to you. You’re both adults, I know, but the store is yours, too. I don’t want to enter into a contract with a possible issue hanging over our heads.”
“That makes sense.” And if Megan did finally reach out to him . . .
A door opened in the back of the house, and Ben and Haley came in. At the same time, Jaden caught his sister hiding a yawn. He pushed out of the chair before his brother-in-law made it to the room. “Don’t take off your coat,” he called out. Ben poked his head through the door, and Jaden said, “You okay running me back?”
Haley’s hand was still clasped in her dad’s. “Can I go, too?”
Jaden grinned at his niece, always happy to play super uncle to any of his nieces, but Dani spoke from her chair.
“It’s past your bedtime,” she said without looking up, and Jaden watched as the girl’s shoulders sagged.
“But I promise I’ll sleep late in the morning.”
Ben chortled. “With Mia waking us all up before daylight, there’s no way that’ll happen.”
“Then I’ll take a nap,” Haley announced. “And I won’t even complain. Please,” she wheedled. “I never get to see Uncle Jaden very much. And you know he’s my favorite uncle.”
Jaden grinned again, and all three of the adults laughed. Both Haley and Jenna regularly rotated between favorite uncles. They had for years.
“Go.” Dani waved in a shooing motion. “But make your dad stop at the store and bring me back some ice cream. I need calories to keep up with this kid.”
Ben crossed to his wife and bent down to kiss Mia on the top of her head. “Chocolate ice cream coming up.” He pecked Dani on the lips.
“But no chips,” she said softly. Dani ate ice cream and chips together when stressed.
“No chips.” Ben kissed Dani again. “Be right back, beautiful.”
Chapter Twelve
Most of the lights were off inside the building as they pulled up, and Jaden took in the quiet street in the middle of his hometown. He’d always loved Birch Bay. He’d planned to move back here since he’d first gone away to college. On the other end of the street was Flathead Lake, and the blocks surrounding the statue in the middle of the square contained storefronts of unique spaces. Even the building Dani had bought. It had been one of a handful of original houses that had been here since the beginning, and he thought she’d made a wise decision in purchasing it. It had strengthened her confidence in making her decision to remain in Birch Bay.
Ben shifted into park but didn’t move to get out. Haley was asleep in the back seat. “Need any help getting in?”
“Nah.” It hadn’t snowed in days, so the sidewalks were clear. He gripped the crutches that sat beside him. “As long as I have my trusty sidekicks, I’m good.”
Ben gave a nod. “I’ll stay until you make it inside.”
“Thanks.” Jaden got out, but before walking away, he turned back. “Is she as good as she seems?” When their family had imploded a few years back and Dani had ended up moving to New York City, Jaden had worried about her a lot.
“She is good. The occasional bad day happens, but she stays on top of it. She’s always working to be as good on the inside as she is on the out.”
Relief filled Jaden. That’s the feeling he got from her.
“I do think she’s worried about you, though.” Ben tossed a glance to the building behind Jaden. “She’s fine with you staying here, but she is concerned about the reason for it.”
“That’s nothing. She just likes to worry. I’m good. Better than good. My only issue is a bum leg.” He nodded toward his ankle, which he very much hoped would get its own personal cast come Monday.
“If you say so.”
Jaden headed up the sidewalk after saying his goodbyes, and as he neared the door, he thought about another person Dani currently worried about. Their dad.
Which meant that he now worried, too.
Was the man hiding something? And if so, what? And why not just share it with all of them?
Reaching the door of the office, he unlocked it before tossing a wave at Ben, and as the other man drove off, Jaden stepped into the dimmed interior. There was soft music drifting through the room, and though he couldn’t see the corner lamp beyond the open french doors, he could tell it had been left on. He glanced up the stairwell as he started past, assuming Arsula would be up there, tucked away in her apartment. However, when he shifted his gaze back, he found her sitting on the floor of his room. Peeking aroun
d the doors.
Stopping, he noted that she seemed frazzled. Her hair had been pulled up, but a good third of it now hung loose—all on one side of her head. She wore an old sweatshirt sporting the name of a medical school in Wyoming, and her brows were drawn together, as if angry at something he’d done. Only, he hadn’t seen her all day.
“What are you doing in my room?” he asked carefully.
She brought one hand out from the other side of the door and held up a screwdriver. “About to chuck this desk you ordered out the front door.”
His brows shot up. “You’re putting my desk together?”
“Were you going to do it?”
“Of course I was. I . . .” He quit talking at the scowl she fired his way and finished hobbling to his room.
Peeking in, he found half the desk put together, more pieces remaining than he could possibly guess what to do with, and a small gash in the middle of the facing of one of the two drawers.
“Sorry about the drawer,” she muttered. She shoved at a hammer, sliding it under the desk.
“And I’m sorry I wasn’t here to see you bust it,” he replied.
The hospital bed he’d been sleeping in had also been replaced. In its place was a twin frame and mattress, as well as a large triangular-shaped foam pillow that appeared to be for propping up in bed.
“You’ve been a busy woman.” He slowly lowered himself to the floor, putting his back to the bed and stretching his feet out before him.
“I got home and you weren’t here, so . . .” She trailed off and went back to working on the desk. She’d had an appointment scheduled for that afternoon, he knew. A gathering where she’d apparently been the main attraction.
“What did you do with the other bed?”
She glanced at him. “Dani was renting it, and you don’t need that kind of assistance anymore, so I borrowed a bed from one of my friends.”
He took in the room again, with fresh bedding piled on one end of the mattress and cardboard and desk parts scattered across the majority of the floor. It was a mess. “You seem to have a lot of friends.”
“That’s because I like a lot of people.”
“You’re also very good at talking to them.”
She shot him another look but didn’t comment before returning her focus to the desk.
“I would have gotten it together somehow, you know?” He eyed the virtually worthless appendage protruding before him. “Just as soon as I get out of this splint and into something that protects me a little better.”
“I don’t mind doing it.”
“Then why is one of the drawers busted?”
When she ignored his question, he followed with, “Didn’t you once tell me that you didn’t normally lose your temper like that?”
The screwdriver dropped from her hand, and she turned to face him, her features twisted in annoyance. “Did you have to order a desk with fifteen thousand different parts?”
He might have done that on purpose.
“How was I to know it would be so time-consuming?” He smiled in all innocence. He had wanted an excuse to get her to spend more time with him.
“Then I guess you’re more of an idiot than I’ve given you credit for.” Her grumbled words had him laughing out loud, and he realized how good it felt. He wasn’t sure he’d laughed like that since the night they’d met. He scooted a couple of feet closer.
“Surely it’s not all that bad.” Picking up the instruction sheet she’d tossed to the side, he scanned over it. “How long have you been at it?”
She went back to work. “What time did you leave here with Dani?”
“About five.” He glanced at the clock. It was almost ten now.
“Then about that long.” Her voice was muffled as she peered up under the main area of the desk. “I saw you pulling away as I was coming home.”
He’d been watching for her, hoping she’d make it back before he left. “Did the party go well?”
He eyed her, trying to picture her in the middle of a crowd of women, reading dreams as if she should be sitting inside a dark tent with a crystal ball between her hands. He didn’t understand that at all.
“Everyone seemed to enjoy it.”
“And that’s good enough for you?”
Her head disappeared ever farther under the desk. “Is what good enough for me?”
“Whatever that was you did today.”
Two seconds later, she peeked back out. “What do you think I did today?”
He could tell from her chilly tone that he should tread carefully. However, he’d never been one to follow all the rules. So he jumped into the deep end. “Being a circus attraction?”
Chilly no longer came close to defining her look. “Excuse me?”
“I just mean—”
She let the screwdriver drop to the floor again . . . only this time, she threw it. It nicked off a sliver of wood.
“What you meant,” she started, her eyes now flaming with fight, “was to insult me. Which you did. So thanks for that. Great job. But here’s the thing, Jaden.” Her look became deadly. “You don’t have the right to make judgments about me. You may think I’m a joke, but I couldn’t care less.”
She was right. About all of it.
He thought she was a joke, and he’d intended to insult her.
Although insulting her hadn’t been what he’d wanted when he’d first seen her. He’d been happy to find her in his room. And he’d had the thought that it would be nice to spend the rest of the evening talking to her. Maybe laughing. Like they’d done that first night.
But he couldn’t seem to help himself. He found the entire dream-reading thing beyond silly.
“I know I shouldn’t have—”
“No.” She wrapped her arms around her knees. “You shouldn’t have. And I’m beyond tired of it. Have a little respect for others, can’t you? Did your mother teach you nothing?”
The second the words left her mouth, her gaze widened and her mouth slammed shut.
“Correct,” he answered flatly. “My mother taught me nothing.”
He hadn’t meant to insult Arsula tonight, but neither did he want to talk about his mother.
“Jaden. I’m sorry.” Her voice wavered, and she lowered her hands. “I know you were young when she died.”
“Being young had nothing to do with it.”
He stared into her expressive eyes. Even being a dark brown, they contained more color than his own blue. And in them tonight . . . he saw that she knew. Dammit, someone had been talking. He forced in a breath, telling himself to look away. To not be lured in by whatever power she held. She had the most amazing ability to get people to want to spill their guts. And he, it seemed, was no exception.
Because he suddenly found himself wanting to talk. And wanting to talk about his mom.
Which was a totally foreign concept.
He reached for the screwdriver she’d discarded and flipped it from grip to flat-head in the palm of one hand. And then, to the only person other than his past counselor and Megan, he began to share.
“She had narcissistic personality disorder.” He kept his voice unemotional and started off slow. As if feeling his way along a freshly snow-covered road. “But I suspect you already know that. She didn’t care about any of us kids. She barely got out of bed during my first years of life because she always had ‘headaches.’” He air-quoted the word and kept on going. “And we were extremely fortunate that she did us the favor of dying so young. Otherwise, she might have destroyed all of us.”
Arsula had frozen as he’d begun to speak, and he could see that her anger had fled.
“Jaden.” She said his name on a whisper, and he suddenly worried she might close the gap between them.
“Don’t.” He held his hands up. “I don’t want your sympathy or your sad, poor-Jaden eyes. I’m fine. I was the least affected of all of us, and I figured her issue out long before anyone else. I’m getting a counseling degree so I can help other kids from eve
r feeling like my siblings and I did. I know I can’t help them all”—his voice cracked—“but by God, I can help some of them.”
Arsula was beside him before he finished speaking, ignoring the hands he still held in front of him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her warm body pressed into his arm as she lifted to her knees and held tight, and he made sure not to return the gesture.
She held on, though, as if afraid turning him loose might cause him to vanish right in front of her.
“Arsula.”
“Shhh.” She shook her head, her nose buried in his neck. “Just accept my hug, will you? Sometimes even morons need hugs.”
The line of his mouth softened, and he dropped his head to the bed.
She felt really good wrapped around him like that. Her hair brushed against the underside of his chin, and he wanted to bring his fingers up to see what it felt like.
“I’m sorry I insulted you,” he said a few minutes later. He really hadn’t wanted to hurt her feelings. “It’s none of my business what you do with your life.”
“And I’m sorry your mom didn’t love you.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. This was why he didn’t talk about his mother. He didn’t like people being concerned that “his mommy hadn’t loved him.”
“I’m fine with it,” he assured her. “I swear to you.” He opened his eyes, and as he once again stared at the ceiling, he remembered that the ceiling above Arsula’s bed had been painted a pale blue. “I’ve been over it for years.”
She kept her arms around his neck but, after another minute, lifted her face. And she was suddenly too close. All he could think about was the night he’d kissed her in the snow.
“How can a person ever be fine with their mother not loving them enough?” she asked, and Jaden looked at her mouth.
“She didn’t love me at all,” he corrected.
