“Yes, there’s a lot I can do, but I’ll need help from one of my partners. Still, the sooner I’m back in DC, the better.” She flipped through the pages of her notes. “I’ll get the child back with his mother. You can count on it.”
Jackson admired her determination. He looked at his watch and realized it was already time to pick up Phoebe from the hospital and get her settled at the rehabilitation center. “What do you say if, after lunch, we lock up and go pick up our gal? If I know Phoebe, she’s waiting at the front door of the hospital, wondering why we’re late.”
Melanie nodded and headed back to the kitchen with her head in her notebook.
Jackson watched as the door closed behind her. The fact that she was so determined made him uneasy. Of course he was concerned about her taking Phoebe to DC, but the empty feeling that consumed him when he thought about Mel leaving Sweet Gum worried him more.
* * *
Aunt Phoebe’s room at Madison Village was small, but at least it was temporary. The doctor had ordered physical therapy to improve her strength, as well as speech therapy. Melanie placed the yellow mums she and Jackson had purchased on the nightstand. With the yellow-and-white comforter covering her queen-size bed, the flowers were a perfect match.
“It makes my heart happy to see the two of you came together to help me get settled.” Aunt Phoebe beamed. She flung her suitcase onto the bed, not looking at all like someone in need of rehabilitation.
Jackson stepped forward. “Do you think you should be doing this, Phoebe?” He attempted to pull the suitcase away, but she gave it a tug back in her direction.
“Nonsense. I’m perfectly capable of unpacking my own clothes.” She stuffed a pair of white cotton pajamas into the drawer. “Now tell me, how are the two of you getting along?” She continued to unpack.
Their eyes locked.
“The Bean is just fine, Aunt Phoebe.”
“That’s not what I asked, dear.” She directed a knowing look at Jackson.
Melanie picked at her pant leg. She hoped he wouldn’t mention the incident from earlier today.
“I guess you could say I’m great at putting out her fires.” Jackson threw a wink at Melanie.
Her hopes were quashed.
Aunt Phoebe tilted her head. “What?”
Melanie closed the suitcase and shoved it into the closet. “Never mind. Jackson’s just trying to be funny. Let’s talk about you. Did Dr. Roberts tell you how long you’ll have to stay here?” She glanced around the room, wondering if it had Wi-Fi.
“He said I’m doing well, so maybe just a week or so.”
It didn’t give Melanie much time to convince her aunt a move was in her best interest. With the kidnapping incident, she needed to get back to DC sooner rather than later. She’d have to start the ball rolling without Phoebe’s consent. First she needed to meet with the real-estate agent she’d spoken to while she was still in DC. “That’s good news. I couldn’t imagine staying in this tiny place any longer than a week.”
She saw Jackson scan the room. “I don’t know. I think it feels kind of cozy. I guess you’re used to those multilevel penthouse suites with multiple rooms and baths, and granite countertops in the kitchen.”
A knock on the door prevented Melanie from getting into another war of words with Jackson. She walked to the door and yanked it open. “Hello. Can we help you?”
“Excuse me. I didn’t know Phoebe had guests.” A petite woman who looked about Phoebe’s age stood in the doorway, holding a red spiral notebook. Her name tag read Prissy, which suited her fine with her pursed lips, pixie haircut and a sharp Adam’s apple. “I’m here to take her to her speech-therapy session.”
Jackson looked at Aunt Phoebe. “Boy, they don’t waste any time, do they?”
Phoebe grabbed her pink sweater from the closet and slipped it on. “It’s fine by me. The sooner I get all of this therapy done, the faster I’ll get out of here.” She turned to Prissy. “No offense, dear, but I’m anxious to get back to my own house.”
Melanie’s stomach turned over. It was too soon after the stroke to discuss putting Phoebe’s house on the market. She’d just move forward and hope for the best. What else could she do? The stroke was proof Aunt Phoebe shouldn’t be living alone, and Melanie knew there was no way she could return to DC and live alone in her big, empty house. And she had to get back. Her job was all she had left.
Chapter Seven
Late Thursday morning, Jackson watched while Rebecca safely boarded the school bus. He placed his hands on his hips and gazed toward the crystal-blue sky. He took a deep breath and inhaled the refreshing autumn air. This was apple-picking weather, but with everything going on lately, he hadn’t picked a thing. That was about to change.
He jogged back into The Bean and straight to the back. He spied Melanie busy wiping down the countertops, her hair pulled back into a bun, completely oblivious to how beautiful she looked.
With the restaurant empty, he slipped into the kitchen beside her. Leaning in close, he noticed she smelled of lilacs in full bloom. “Guess what we’re going to do this afternoon?”
With one last swipe of her rag, she turned her head toward him. “Well, let’s see. I’ve just finished the counters. Now we need to mop these floors. They’re covered in grease. Then all the shelves in here need to be cleaned. We also have to pick up a few items at the store. The list is never-ending. I don’t know how Aunt Phoebe handles everything.”
Jackson strolled behind the counter, whistling a random tune. “All of it can wait.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “It can?”
He picked up a coffeepot and scrubbed it clean while he kept his eyes glued on her. “When was the last time you played hooky and had some fun, Mel?” He turned the pot upside down on the drying towel.
Melanie crossed her arms. “Played hooky? That’s for children.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides, who would watch The Bean?”
“That’s the great thing about being the boss...you set the hours.” Jackson’s heart hammered. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this excited. The idea of spending the afternoon with Melanie had his pulse racing. “What’s wrong with acting like a child once in a while?” He was long overdue for an afternoon of fun and zero responsibility.
She peered around as though someone was watching and leaned in with a smile. “What did you have in mind?”
He sauntered out of the kitchen and toward the front door. One flip of the sign and The Bean officially closed for the day. He turned to her and flashed a playful grin. “It’s a surprise.”
She’d followed him into the main room, and he saw she was tapping her right foot, hands on her hips. “A surprise? How will I know how to dress?”
Jackson gave her a quick once-over smile. Dressed in jeans, a crisp white blouse, she was perfect. “Trust me, what you’re wearing will do just fine. Can you grab the picnic basket? It’s in the pantry on the top shelf.”
“Oh, so we’re going on a picnic.” She fiddled with her necklace. “Where are we going?”
“Would you just get the basket and quit asking questions? I need a few mustard packets out of there, too.”
Melanie handed him the brown wicker basket and flashed a killer smile. Despite her earlier protest about this possibly being childish, she seemed to be on board. And maybe even looking forward to having some fun. He loaded bottles of water, a bunch of grapes and some chips. Once he’d made the turkey sandwiches with Swiss cheese on rye and wrapped them in Saran Wrap, he placed them into the basket.
“What about dessert?” She tapped her fingers along the counter. “You can’t have a picnic without dessert.”
Jackson spun on his heel and headed for the freezer. “It just so happens dessert is my specialty.” He slid a container off the shelf and opened the lid. He pulled out two hug
e brownies packed with nuts and chocolate chips. “What do you think?”
Her eyes popped. “Now, that’s a brownie.” She licked her lips. “I’ve never seen ones so big.”
Jackson’s laughter filled the room. “It’s how we make them here at The Bean—well, how Phoebe makes them.” He paused. “They’re not for customers. We have cakes, pies and pastries delivered. Phoebe bakes these and keeps them in the freezer for when her special friends stop in. By the time we’re ready to eat them, they’ll be the perfect temperature.”
He tucked one of the treats into the basket. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve never had Phoebe’s brownies?”
“No, but I can’t wait to try it. Can I have a bite now?” She reached fast to snatch the second one from his hand.
He jerked his hand away and laughed. “You really are like a little kid, Mel.” He tucked the brownie into the basket. “You’ll get your dessert once you’ve eaten every bite of your lunch.” He winked and grabbed the basket. “Let’s get going. I’m starved.”
As they drove to the orchard, he bit his lip to keep from laughing at Melanie. She squirmed in her seat and every few minutes asked if they were there. Twice she tried to slip her hand into the picnic basket for a bite of brownie. This lighthearted side of her was driving him crazy.
Twenty minutes later, she turned to Jackson. “The suspense is killing me. Please tell me where we’re going.”
He smiled and hoped she would enjoy this as much as he and Rebecca always did. Rebecca’s mother never liked apple picking. She claimed it wasn’t good for her manicure.
Jackson hit the turn signal and pointed. “I don’t need to tell you. Look over there.”
She looked out the window and tilted her head. “We’re going to an apple orchard?”
“It’s not just any apple orchard. It’s the best in the area.” He pushed the button and rolled down his window. “Take a whiff of the air. There’s nothing sweeter than the smell of apples ripe for the picking.”
She fidgeted in her seat. “We’re going to pick apples?” A silence lingered in the air. She cast a sullen look at Jackson. “I see.” She nodded.
“It’s a popular thing to do on a beautiful autumn day.” Jackson pulled the truck into a parking space, next to the wagon used for hayrides. He slid the key out of the ignition and glanced at Melanie with an arched brow. “I’ll take a wild guess you’ve never done this before.”
The color had drained from her face. She was looking out the window as if deep in thought. “I have, but that was before...” she said in a whisper. Then, as if coming out of her trance, she turned to look at him. “I did stomp grapes once, in Italy. I was on my honey...”
“It’s okay, Mel. I know you were married. I remember when Phoebe went to your wedding. You can talk about him.” He reached over the console and placed his hand on top of hers. It was shaking. Was that why her mood had shifted? She was remembering her husband? “Of course, only if you feel comfortable.”
“We stomped grapes while on our honeymoon.” She pulled the clip from her hair and released the bun. Her chestnut mane cascaded onto her shoulders. “It feels like a lifetime ago.” She gazed out the window again and watched two boys climbing onto the wagon.
Jackson leaned in. “It sounds like a lot of fun. I’ve never been to Italy.”
She smiled. “It was messy, but so much fun. Italy is a beautiful country. If you ever get the opportunity, you should go. I’ll bet Rebecca would enjoy stomping the grapes.”
“Right now if a trip doesn’t include a stop at Walt Disney World, she’s not interested.” Jackson ran his hand along the steering wheel. “She brings up the subject at least once or twice a week, usually at bedtime.”
“I guess all kids would like to take that trip.” A slow grin spread across Melanie’s lips. “Funny, when I was little, all I thought about was becoming a lawyer. How crazy, huh?”
“I’m sure it made your parents proud.” He chuckled. “What about now? Do you have any dreams?”
She shook her head. “They’re for children. Plus, I think we’re allowed only a certain number in our lives.”
Jackson swallowed hard and let out a sigh. “So, what, you’ve used up all of yours? That’s crazy, Mel.” He shook his head. “You’ve got to have dreams. Otherwise, what’s the point of it all?”
The quiet stretched between them.
He unfastened his seat belt and broke the silence. “Let’s go pick some apples!”
She showed him the hint of a smile.
“Hold up a second.” He jumped from the truck and walked to the passenger side, determined to make this day special for Melanie. He opened her door and extended his hand. As he expected, her skin was silk to the touch. Tingles shot up his arm, making him feel more alive than he had in years. She jumped at the contact and their eyes locked, but only for a second. He brushed a strand of loose hair away from her face. “Ready to play hooky?”
* * *
Melanie had to admit this beat mopping floors and grocery shopping. After an hour of apple picking, their buckets were full.
“So, are you going to bake me an apple pie with these?” He took the bucket from her hand and smiled. “Though come to think of it, you probably don’t know much about making them, huh? I’m sure you buy your pies at some fancy bakery in DC.”
Recalling the first time she and the girls had attempted to bake a pie jabbed a little deeper in her heart than she liked. “I’ve made a few, but they’ve never turned out right. I have trouble with the crust.” She turned her face upward, savoring the warmth of the October sun.
“You can borrow my recipe if you’d like,” Jackson said with a straight face.
She playfully punched his shoulder. “You don’t have an apple-pie recipe—do you?”
“Sure I do. What’s so hard to believe?” He glanced down toward the ground. “Well, actually it’s Phoebe’s recipe. She puts in extra cinnamon. Don’t tell anyone. It’s her secret ingredient.”
“The secret is safe with me.” Of course it was. She was an expert at keeping secrets.
“Let’s stash these apples in the truck, grab the picnic basket and have some lunch. I know you’re dying for a brownie.”
As they strolled toward the truck, Melanie placed her hand on her stomach. “Actually, I am getting hungry. Do they have tables where we can eat?” As far as her eyes could see, there were rolling hills and trees dotted with yellow and burgundy under a canopy of blue sky.
“I’ve got the perfect spot. You’ll love it.” Jackson popped the trunk and dumped the apples into a large yellow cooler. He grabbed the picnic basket and a blanket then turned to Melanie. “I think we’re ready. Are you up for a little hike?”
She glanced at her shoes, relieved she had on her most comfortable flats. “Sure. Lead the way.”
Over a year had passed since Melanie had spent this much time outside. The four walls of her office and the courtroom were her world. A sunlit cloud drifted across the clear blue sky. After walking for twenty minutes, her mind felt clearer than it had in months. “I’m not sure why, but I feel as though I could walk forever.”
Jackson stopped and looked up into the sky. “It’s because you’re used to the city smog. It feels good, doesn’t it?”
She wasn’t sure if it was the air, the time outside The Bean or being with Jackson, but she felt so free. She raced to the top of the hill, extended her arms and twirled. “Guess who I am?” Spinning faster and faster, she suddenly lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. She pushed the hair away from her eyes and laughed.
Jackson’s eyes widened. “I know that twirl anywhere. Rebecca’s got a patent on it.”
Melanie sat on the grass with her legs stretched in front of her. She ran her hands through the lush fescue, swallowed hard and looked up at her companion. “I can’t remember
the last time I sat in the grass or felt it. It’s so soft.”
Jackson took a seat next to her. “Can I ask you something?”
The way she felt, she was open to any question. “Sure. What is it?”
He pulled his knees close to his chest and let out a breath. “You’re so good with Rebecca, and she’s obviously crazy about you. Have you ever thought about having children of your own? You’d be a great mother.”
Her chest constricted. Any question but this. The smiling faces of her twin girls flashed before her eyes, and hot tears blurred her vision.
When the first drop escaped, Jackson reached to brush away her tear, but hesitated for a moment. Then she felt his warm, gentle hand on her face, and a flicker of yearning bubbled inside when she realized how much she’d missed the comfort of a man’s touch. “Mel, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.” He plucked a blade of grass and twisted it around his finger. “It was a personal question. I’m sorry. Forget I asked, okay?”
She couldn’t talk about the accident with Jackson, not now. He’d gone out of his way to make this day special for her. She wiped her eyes and sprang to her feet. “It’s forgotten.” Acting was what she did best. She’d been doing it for the past year. She deserved an award for her performance. “That’s not necessary. I’m the one who owes you an apology, Jackson.”
“For what?”
“After my car accident, you came to my rescue. I never really thanked you.”
Jackson shook his head. “Yes, you did, when Phoebe and I came into your room at the hospital. You thanked me then.”
That day was a blur. The one thing she vividly remembered was the moment she saw Jackson for the first time. Her heart hadn’t slowed since. “Well, it wasn’t much of a thank-you. And then I dropped the bomb on you about moving Aunt Phoebe. It’s obvious you and Rebecca care a lot about her. I should have handled it differently.”
Second Chance Romance Page 9
