I gave him a squeeze, kissed his shoulder blade through his shirt, let him go and got him his Coke.
But when I turned away from the fridge, I saw he didn’t look quite so aggravated anymore.
And thus, I figured I’d appropriately handled my man.
So I smiled.
* * * * *
“And he was all, Combat Raptor is lame. So I was all, and Zombie Mayhem wasn’t? And he was all, Zombie Mayhem was the bomb. And I was all, there’s no such thing as zombies. And he was all, like men can turn into jets? And I was all, duh, Transformers…? And he was all, Transformers are robots.”
This was coming from Ethan who was, for some unknown reason, lying upside down on Gran’s couch, his feet over the back, his head dangling over the seat.
Amber was painting her nails in Gran’s armchair.
We’d just had dinner (and dessert) that I’d prepared, but for some reason, Conner was in the other armchair eating the chips and salsa Ethan told me I had to buy when we took Pearl on the excruciatingly long (I reminded myself she did walk with a walker) trip to the grocery store that afternoon.
And by the by, I was right. Ethan knew Pearl. They liked each other a great deal and our afternoon was quite enjoyable (sans the excruciatingly long trip at the grocery store, of course).
Conner not only had chips and salsa but also a textbook opened on his thigh to which he was paying scant attention.
As for me, I’d been planted in the couch between the upside down Ethan and the right side up Jake.
The pre-game show for Monday Night Football was on the television. This was because Jake had programmed my DVR (I didn’t even know I had one or, indeed, what one was) to “Tape Project Runway anytime it shows, even the reruns, so you can watch it whenever you want and Amber can come over and watch that shit with you.”
As this was acceptable to Amber and me, Monday Night Football it was.
Ethan kept rattling on as Jake slid an arm around me and tucked me close to his side.
I rested my head against his chest, pulled my legs up, tucked them into the seat beside me and studied the commentators.
When Ethan took a breath, I noted, “That tie the bald fellow is wearing is extremely unbecoming.”
“I know, right?” Amber agreed.
Jake’s arm gave me a squeeze as a soft chuckle escaped his mouth but I heard it come from there and from his chest and I felt it.
All three were very nice.
“Jesus,” Conner muttered.
Without disconnecting from Jake, quietly and cautiously I said to Conner, “You really shouldn’t take the Lord’s name in vain, honey.”
Conner grinned at me and replied, “You really shouldn’t talk trash about a Football Hall of Famer’s tie.”
“Is this a rule?” I queried.
“Absolutely, “Conner replied.
I rolled my eyes and when I rolled them back, he was still grinning at me.
“Whatever,” I muttered.
Then I burrowed closer, wrapped an arm around Jake’s stomach, he lifted his stocking feet to Gran’s coffee table, crossed his ankles and we watched Monday Night Football.
* * * * *
On my way to the gym the next morning, I approached The Shack which I was highly surprised was open at that early hour. But I’d seen the cover gone from the window as I drove by the wharf and remembered the excellent coffee there so I’d stopped.
The window was open, however beyond it was dark and cavernous, so I called a tentative, “Hello?”
“Josie, watcha need?” was called back.
I blinked at the empty window.
“Tom?” I called.
“Right here. You want coffee or coffee and omelets for you and Jake?’
Word most definitely got around.
“Just coffee, Tom,” I answered. “Two.”
“Comin’ right up,” the disembodied voice said just as my phone in my purse rang.
I took it out, looked at the display, took the call turning my back to the window and announced, “I’m uncertain I’m talking to you.”
“Josephine,” Amond said quietly.
“You knew he was coming,” I said huffily.
“Had no idea he’d can your ass,” Amond replied.
I said nothing.
“Henry’s in a bad way, girl,” he told me and I closed my eyes against the pain.
I opened them and shared, “I’ve met someone, Amond.”
It was his turn to say nothing.
So I did.
“I’m also quite angry with you. You could have no idea, of course, how things would play out. But I’ll tell you, it was unpleasant for all of us and perhaps wouldn’t have been that way if I’d known he was coming.”
“He wanted it to be a surprise,” Amond replied.
“Well it was that,” I returned.
I heard a sigh before, “I’ll talk to him. His new boy, Daniel, is okay but he’s not you and everyone’s freaking about Henry losing his muse. They think, without you, he’ll lose his touch.”
His muse?
Oh God, was I Henry’s muse?
My mind harked back and noted that he took an inordinate amount of pictures of me. In fact, on every shoot, he’d aim the camera at me at some point, even if I was simply sitting and talking on the phone.
I always thought he was being playful.
But now I knew he was not.
As beautiful as this was, as much of an honor as it was, all of this coming to me at a time when it was gone was too much to bear.
Therefore, I shook it off and said to Amond, “Don’t talk with him. A great deal has changed and I was going to speak with Henry and ask if I could slow down anyway. I like being here, in Gran’s house, life being less hectic, and as I mentioned, I met someone.”
To this he declared, “I’m there the minute this shoot is over.”
My hand tightened on the phone for I had the feeling that this meant Amond was coming to check Jake out. And there were very few people who could be a threat to Jake but Amond was one of them. He not only was also quite tall, large and fit, he was not someone you messed with. He further spoke his mind at all times. If he didn’t like Jake for me, he’d let me know it.
And Jake.
And Jake might not like this.
“Amond, that isn’t necessary,” I said quickly.
“Two weeks and you’re givin’ up Henry and your life for Maine and this guy, it absolutely is.”
“Amond—”
“Me showin’ up won’t be a surprise. I’ll let you know when to expect me and you got room in that house of yours, I’m in it.”
“Amond—” I said louder.
“Later, Josephine,” he said and I heard the disconnect.
I took my phone from my ear and snapped, “God!”
“Coffee’s up,” Tom declared from behind me.
I whirled and again saw a dark window as well as two white paper coffee cups sitting on its ledge.
But no Tom.
“How much do I owe you?” I asked into the vacant window.
“Come for another omelet, bring Jake, those’re free,” Tom’s voice replied.
He hardly had to bribe me to come eat another of his omelets. They were superb. In fact, I’d no idea why I hadn’t returned to get one already.
I peered into the shadows and eerily still saw nothing but, well, shadows and some little red lights that undoubtedly indicated cooking implements were on.
Very curious.
I would, of course, come for another omelet. But I couldn’t take freebie coffees.
“Tom, really, I’d like to pay,” I said into the shadows.
“Not takin’ your money so get that coffee to Jake while it’s hot.”
I stared at the window.
Then, clearly with no other choice, I grabbed the cups and said, “Thank you. I’ll see you later for an omelet.”
“Tell Jake I said hey,” Tom replied.
“Will do,” I told
him.
I took the coffees, left mine black, poured a frightening amount of sugar and two powdered cream packets into Jake’s and called another farewell to Tom as I started to move to my Cayenne.
I was again waiting for Jake outside the back door to the gym but was only there approximately two minutes before Jake’s big truck pulled up.
He parked, got out and walked to me, doing all this smiling.
“Two days in a row. I would say I’ve proved my point,” I announced as he made his way to me. “Now, are you going to give me a key?”
He didn’t answer me at first.
No, even with two cups of coffee in my hands, his arms closed around me and I was forced to hold my arms out at the sides to save the mysterious Tom’s rather delicious coffee. This was made a more difficult endeavor when Jake bent his head and kissed me dizzy.
He answered only when he lifted his head and he did this with a, “Yeah.”
Alas, I forgot my question.
“Pardon?”
“I’m giving you a key.”
“Oh,” I mumbled.
He smiled again.
Then he let me go, tipped his head to my hands and asked, “One of those for me?”
I didn’t answer his question.
I blurted, “Amond is coming to check you out.”
His brows went up. “Come again?”
“Dee-Amond, a friend of mine and an award-winning hip-hop artist who you may have heard of has learned that Henry sacked me. I’ve informed him I’m staying in Maine and met someone. He’s protective of me. After he shoots his video with Henry, he’s coming to check you out.”
“And?” Jake queried when I stopped speaking.
I stared at him a moment before inquiring, “This doesn’t upset you?”
“What would upset me is if you lived a life where no one gave a shit about you and didn’t get worried when you made a major life change and lost your job. This guy worrying about you says he’s a good guy who cares about you. He comes, he’ll see we’re cool. So no. I’m not upset some famous rap star is comin’ to check me out.”
I didn’t know what to say but I did know what to think and that was that Jake Spear was…the…bomb.
“What also would upset me is if you keep starin’ at me instead of givin’ me my cup ‘a joe that I know’s from The Shack so I know it’s gonna be good but not so good if it’s stone cold.”
I belatedly handed him his cup.
He took it, hooked an arm around my waist and yanked me into his body, dipping his head so his face was close to mine.
“Every singer, designer, model you know showed up here to check me out, the kids out, I wouldn’t give a fuck,” he told me quietly. “In fact, I want that. They’re the only family you had so actually, I want to know that part of your life. So bring it on.”
Good God.
“You keep getting more wonderful,” I whispered.
“Baby, it’s not yet seven, got my girl who hates to get up early in my arm, a coffee from The Shack she got for me, and I’m gonna get me some in about two hours. I’m thinkin’ you keep gettin’ more wonderful too.”
“Good answer,” I replied.
He grinned.
Then he dipped his head to touch his mouth to mine.
After that, he let us in, opened the doors while I turned on the lights, and then he gave me a key.
About two hours later, after Jake took Ethan to school while I stayed at his house and did the breakfast dishes, he returned, dragged me up the stairs and “got him some.”
In doing so, he gave me some too.
And it was wonderful.
* * * * *
Two days later, I’d just paid for Alyssa and my lunch of rather delicious cobb salads at Weatherby’s Diner when my phone rang.
Again.
“Jesus, you’re popular,” Alyssa noted as I ignored my phone (again).
“Word has gotten around that Henry fired me,” I explained, tucking my still-ringing phone in my bag. “And also that Gran has died. I’m getting dozens of calls a day.”
And I was. Some sharing condolences. Most sharing shock that Henry and I were not “together” anymore.
I’d learned from these calls that it seemed quite a few people thought Henry and I had an open relationship but in the end, it was me for Henry and Henry for me.
This also meant that, again, others were clued in far faster than I was about what was happening around me.
There were also job offers, one from a rather talented up-and-coming designer based out of New York who would “die” if I’d offer my services, even if I worked from Lavender House and only went to the City once every month or so.
“With your connections, darling, you’d have me where I wanted to be five years ago and do it in six months,” he’d said.
Of course, I thought this was rather sweet, if perhaps incorrect. But I was thinking about it and Jake was prompting me to do it.
“Gives you to us most of the time, but you still stay connected to who you are. Best of both worlds, babe,” he’d said.
I was thinking he was right.
I was also thinking that I had a great many acquaintances who I was finding, with their kind concern, were really friends and I wanted to stay connected to them because that kind concern was heartwarming.
It was also overwhelming, but I didn’t want to be on the phone all day, and certainly not while at lunch with Alyssa (this was rude) so I’d begun not to take some calls and called them back later.
“Cool your peeps are rallying around you, babe,” Alyssa said as we slid out of the booth.
“It is indeed cool,” I agreed.
She grinned at me as she got close and slid an arm around my waist.
I reciprocated the gesture and we walked through the diner in this fashion, Alyssa stating, “I’m gonna hang at The Circus with you tomorrow night. Check out the dancers, get me some new moves to rock Junior’s world.”
We separated to walk out the door as I looked at her with delight.
“I would love that,” I shared.
“Then you’re on. Meet you there at ten,” she replied as we stopped outside in the chill air.
“Excellent. Ten,” I agreed.
“Now, you need help goin’ through your boxes, you call me. I’d kill to dig through your wardrobe and if you let me try a few pieces on, I’ll put you in my will.”
The boxes from Henry’s pool house had arrived and this was how I told Alyssa I was going to spend my afternoon, sorting through them, officially moving into Lavender House.
Bittersweet.
But it would be less so with Alyssa helping me do it. Therefore, I decided to delay my afternoon’s activities until a time she could help me.
“I’ll take you up on that,” I said. “We’ll plan tomorrow night.”
“Right on,” she agreed.
We did double cheek kisses and she took off with a low wave saying, “Later, babelicious.”
“Later, honey,” I called to her as I turned in the other direction to head down the sidewalk toward my Cayenne.
I was nearly there when my phone in my purse rang and as it was so soon after the last call, I wondered if it was the same caller and they actually needed to speak to me.
So I pulled it out but stopped dead on the sidewalk when I saw the caller’s name on the display.
Quickly, I took the call and put the phone to my ear.
“Arnie, how are you?” I greeted cautiously.
There was a long pause before he replied in a voice that broke my heart, “Been better, Josephine.”
I stepped to the side, tilted my head down to stare at my high-heeled boots and gave him my full attention.
“Can I help you with something?” I asked.
“No, my dear. I’m just phoning to let you know we’re putting Eliza in hospice today.”
Hospice.
Damn.
My heart clenched and I whispered, “So soon?”
His bro
ken heart was in his voice when he replied, “Yes, Josephine.”
I felt my hand shaking so I tightened it around the phone when I queried, “May I come and see her?”
“Of course,” he answered. “She’ll want to see you.”
“I…where will she be?”
He gave me the name of the hospice as I took deep breaths to control the tears stinging my eyes.
“I’ll come tomorrow,” I told him.
“Do it today, Josephine,” he said quietly and my eyes immediately got wet.
“Okay.” I paused. “I’ll, well…I’ll let you go.”
“I’ll see you later.”
“You will, Arnie,” I assured. “Thank you for taking the time to phone. Until then.”
“Good-bye, my dear,” he said and rang off.
When he did, I stood on the sidewalk and stared at my boots, tears gliding down my face.
Jake was right. He was very right.
I shouldn’t have taken that on.
I couldn’t handle it.
On this thought, I heard my name called.
“Josephine?”
I looked up and saw Mickey standing before me. His face was watery but I noted vaguely that he was smiling. However, the instant he caught my tear-stained cheeks, his expression shifted to concern.
“Jesus,” he murmured, “Honey, what’s happening?”
“Eliza Weaver is going into hospice today.”
He said nothing but then again, I didn’t give him a chance. I tilted my head down and covered my face with my hands even with my phone still in one of them.
Then I was in Mickey’s arms. Feeling their strength close around me, his warmth enveloping me, his kindness melting into my skin, my body bucked and I made one of those awful hiccupping noises through my tears.
One of his arms left me and moments later, as he turned us and started us walking, still holding me close, I heard him say, “Jake, buddy, you gotta get to the station. I got Josephine with me and she’s not good. Says some friend of hers is going to hospice today. Think she just found out on the street but I know she lost it.”
I lifted wet eyes to him even as he kept moving us toward the station and said, “I-I’ll be all right.”
Mickey looked down at me but otherwise ignored me and said into the phone at his ear, “Right. Good. See you then. We’ll be in the break room. Later.”
“Jake’s busy,” I told him as he shoved the phone in his back pocket.
The Will Page 42
