by Irene Hannon
“Thanks again for your help.”
“My pleasure.”
Scott turned and headed back toward the main building, only to pull up abruptly a few feet from the car when his gaze came to rest on a stack of folded bills that looked suspiciously like the ones the customer had just shoved into his pocket. Scott bent and picked up the money, flipping through it. There was more than two hundred dollars in the roll, he realized, recalling the days when that amount of money was just pocket change to him. Now it was a fortune. And it would certainly beef up his car fund—if he was the kind of man to be swayed by such temptation. But it just wasn’t in his nature. He turned back to the car, flagging the customer down as he pulled out of the parking spot.
“I think you dropped this, sir,” he said, handing the roll of bills through the window.
The man frowned and reached into his pocket. “Good heavens! You’re right. Thank you so much!” he said gratefully as he took the money. “I guess there are still some honest people around after all.”
Scott grinned and stepped back. “A few. Enjoy the flowers.”
“I will. And thanks again.”
Scott watched the man drive away, then turned back toward the main building—only to find Seth watching the scenario from a few feet away, fists on his hips, chomping on his ever-present unlit cigar. For a moment Scott’s step faltered. Though the nursery owner never said much, Scott had developed great respect for him as a businessman—and a person. Seth had not only given him a chance when few were willing to take on an ex-con, but had steadily increased Scott’s responsibility. After Scott’s first design project went well, Seth had moved him permanently into the retail side of the business and funneled more such projects his way. He’d also given him a nice bump in salary. So even though Seth didn’t offer much verbal praise, his actions spoke loud and clear. But right now Scott wasn’t quite sure how to read the enigmatic look on the man’s face. And he certainly wasn’t expecting the man’s first words.
“I think I found you a car.”
Scott stared at him, his expression momentarily blank. “A car?”
Seth gave a quick nod. “I have a friend who’s a mechanic. I asked him to keep an eye out for you. He thinks he’s got a good one.” Seth gave Scott the particulars, including the attractive price. “You can trust Les. He’s a good man. I told him you might stop by on your lunch hour to take a look.”
“I’d like to,” Scott said with a frown. “But I’m already short on hours today.” His work day had started with an apology to Seth for his late arrival because of the unfamiliar bus schedule from Jess’s condo.
Seth waved his comment aside. “You work harder in eight hours than most people do in twelve. Don’t worry about it. I have to run an errand at lunch time, so I can drop you off at his shop and pick you up on my way back.”
Scott hardly knew what to say. So he settled for a simple but heartfelt “Thank you.”
“Meet me in the office at eleven-thirty,” Seth said gruffly, turning toward the main building. As Scott watched the nursery owner stride away, his throat tightened in gratitude. Reverend Young had been right about Seth. The man might not practice much formal religion, but he lived the Christian values more fully than many churchgoing people Scott had met. Though Scott had been warned to expect the stigma of his prison record to follow him, it had still been a shock to experience reactions ranging from caution to distrust to aversion when people found out he was an ex-con. Even people at church. Some had been wonderful, of course, accepting him fully and welcoming him into their midst. But in the eyes of others he’d seen judgment and condemnation, as if his mistakes had tainted him forever. Those were rough moments. Discouraging moments. But thank God there were good people, too. Like Seth. And Reverend Young. People who believed in him and were willing to give him a chance.
Now, if only he could convince Jess to do the same.
The doorbell interrupted Scott’s perusal of the real estate listings, and he set the paper aside with a discouraged sigh. Finding a reasonably priced apartment was proving difficult—especially since he’d promised Karen he would upgrade his previous lodgings. But he’d have his car tomorrow, and then he could check out a few places in person—which should expedite things, he thought as he walked toward the door.
Fortunately, after seeing the long hours he worked and the time it took to travel by bus, Jess had told him that she didn’t mind if it took him a few days to find a place to stay. He didn’t intend to take advantage of her generosity, of course—but neither did he plan to rush. This time with her was a blessing, and he didn’t want the opportunity to see her on a daily basis to end any sooner than necessary. It was too close to heaven, he thought, his lips curving into a smile.
The smile was still on his face when he opened the door a moment later, but it froze when he came face-to-face with Jess’s parents. Their own smiles quickly gave way to shock, and from there her father’s expression degenerated to hostility.
“What are you doing here?” Frank asked curtly, his face growing ruddy.
Scott’s stomach twisted into a knot. “Hello, Frank. Clare. There was a fire at my flat, and Jess offered me her guest room until I found a new apartment.”
“Where is she?”
“On her way home, I suspect. She should be here any minute. Would you like to come in and wait?”
“No, we would not.”
“Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Yes. You can leave Jess alone!” Frank said furiously.
Scott felt a hot flush creep up his neck, and he struggled to maintain a cordial tone when he spoke. “I think that’s between me and Jess.”
Frank’s face grew redder. “Really? Well, I don’t. Not after what you did to her. Not after you left her mother and me to pick up the pieces. Good God, man, don’t you think you’ve done enough damage? Do you have any idea how long it took her to get back on her feet after the accident? To be able to make it through a day without shaking so badly that she had to take medication? Do you know how many months she spent in counseling? And now you waltz back into her life and turn it upside down all over again! Don’t think her mother and I haven’t noticed the changes in her since you came back, either. Or that we haven’t spent sleepless nights worrying that she’ll end up on the verge of a nervous breakdown again. If you cared for her at all, you’d leave her alone. You’d walk out of her life and never come back.”
By the time Frank finished his furious tirade, Scott felt almost physically sick. He had known just by looking at her that the past few years had taken an immense toll on Jess. But apparently the trauma had been even worse than he’d imagined. He’d had no idea she’d come that close to a nervous breakdown. Was Frank right? he wondered. Had his return caused more harm than good? Would Jess be better off without him?
With a weary sigh Scott raked his fingers through his hair and gazed at Jess’s parents. “The last thing in the world I want to do is hurt Jess again,” he said with quiet sincerity, his eyes troubled. “I love her. I always have and I always will. I realize I’ve made some bad mistakes. And I spent three long, lonely years in prison thinking about them. But the one thing that wasn’t a mistake was marrying Jess. She’s always been the best part of my life. It may have taken a tragedy for me to realize that, but now that I have, I want to spend the rest of my life filling hers with joy. I just don’t see how that could be bad for her. Or for us.”
There was silence for a moment while the two men stared at each other. Then Frank turned away. “Come on, Clare. Let’s get out of here,” he said coldly.
Scott transferred his gaze to Jess’s mother, whose eyes were far less hostile than her husband’s. She looked at him for a long moment, then held out a foil-covered dish. “I was going to drop this off for Jess,” she said softly. “She likes my pot roast, and we had extra. There’s enough for two.”
Gratitude filled Scott’s eyes as he reached for the container. “Thank you.”
She nodded,
then turned and joined her husband, who had moved a few feet away. He took her arm stiffly, and without a backward glance they walked away.
Slowly Scott closed the door and tiredly made his way to the kitchen, feeling suddenly drained. He slipped the casserole dish into the oven, then sank into one of the kitchen chairs and let his head drop into his hands. For the first time since his release he was actually tempted to have a beer. Working outdoors in the heat and humidity of the St. Louis summer had taken its toll physically, and the encounter with Jess’s parents had taken its toll mentally. Yeah, a beer would taste good about now, he thought. Except he didn’t drink anymore. Not even beer. He’d had enough trouble with alcohol to last ten lifetimes.
The phone rang, and Scott automatically reached for it. “Hello.”
There was silence for a moment, and Scott frowned. He wasn’t in the mood for games. Or for recorded phone solicitations, he thought irritably. He was just about to hang up when a voice on the other end spoke.
“Scott?”
Scott’s irritation changed to puzzlement. No one knew he was here, except Seth and Karen. And this voice belonged to neither. “Yes?” he replied cautiously.
“I thought it was you. Sorry. It just took me by surprise. This is Mark.”
Scott closed his eyes and groaned silently. Great. Just what he needed. A browbeating by yet another member of Jess’s family. “Hello, Mark,” he said coolly.
“So Jess finally took my advice, I see.”
Scott’s frown reappeared. “What are you talking about?”
Mark chuckled. “I can see she didn’t give her brother credit for his brilliant counsel. By the way, welcome back.”
At Mark’s friendly tone, the tension in Scott’s shoulders eased. As did his frown. “Thanks. What advice?”
“When she told me you were out and trying to talk to her, I told her to listen. She’s kept everything bottled up inside for too long. And while she may think she’s dealt with her issues and moved on, I know better. You guys had a good thing going for a long time. Frankly, I think you still do. The trick is convincing her.”
Scott felt the last vestiges of tension vanish, and he expelled a relieved sigh. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For not hating me. For trying to convince Jess to give me a chance. For calling when you did—right after I opened the door and gave your parents the shock of their lives.”
“Ouch. I take it they didn’t know you two have been talking?”
“They might have. But they didn’t know I was staying here.”
There was silence for a moment, and when Mark spoke his voice was cautious. “You want to explain that?”
Scott smiled. “It’s not what you think. Unfortunately. There was a fire at my flat a couple of days ago, and Jess offered me her spare bedroom.”
“No kidding! So how are things going?”
“I’m still here.”
“Yeah. Good point. I’d call that progress,” Mark said encouragingly. “Is she around?”
“Not yet. She should be here any minute.”
“Okay. I’ll get back with her later. In the meantime, hang in there. I have a good feeling about this. I know my sister. Even when she thought she hated you, she didn’t. She just hated what you did. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that she still loves you. But hey, enough of this mushy stuff. I gotta run. If you need to hear a friendly voice, though, just give me a ring. Anytime.”
The line went dead, and slowly Scott replaced the receiver, his expression thoughtful. Could Mark be right? he wondered. Did Jess still love him?
He wasn’t as sure about that as Mark. But he did agree that her invitation to stay was definitely progress. And for right now, that was good enough.
Chapter Eleven
Scott had been listening for Jess, and when he heard her key in the lock he rose and headed for the foyer. He wasn’t looking forward to telling her about her parents’ visit, but he would rather she heard about it from him first.
“Someone’s been cooking,” she said with a surprised look, sniffing appreciatively as she leaned down to deposit her briefcase and purse on the floor. “It kind of smells like my mom’s pot roast.”
Scott took a deep breath. “It is.”
Jess froze for a second, then slowly rose and turned to him in dismay.
“She and your dad stopped by a little while ago to drop it off.”
Jess reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, her eyes troubled. “I’m sure that wasn’t very pleasant for you.”
He shrugged. “I survived. Frankly, I’m more worried about you.”
“Don’t be. I can handle it.”
She was putting up a good front, he acknowledged, but her voice lacked conviction and she was clearly agitated. He watched as she moved into the living room and stopped to stare unseeingly out the window, one hand on her hip, the other massaging her temple.
“It’s my own fault for waiting to tell them,” she said with a sigh. “I was going to break the news when I went to their house for dinner on Thursday, hoping that in a relaxed atmosphere they might be a bit more receptive. But that was just wishful thinking. They have strong feelings on the subject. Especially Dad.” She turned to Scott with a frown. “What did they say?”
“Your mother was pleasant enough,” he hedged.
“Which means Dad wasn’t,” she said flatly, dropping onto the couch. “Why am I not surprised?” Wearily she passed a hand over her eyes. “Nothing’s ever easy, is it?”
Scott watched her silently, read her inner struggle in her eyes. It wasn’t fair to make her choose between him and her parents. He didn’t have the right to impose that burden on her. Much as he wanted to extend his stay, he couldn’t do so if it made life more difficult for her. He jammed his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath. “I don’t want to cause you any more problems, Jess. I can be out of here in an hour.”
She frowned. “Did you find an apartment?”
“Not yet. But it’s only a matter of days.”
Slowly she shook her head, and her chin tilted up ever so slightly. “No. I offered you a place to stay, and I’m not backing down. It’s my decision, not theirs,” she said defiantly. “As much as I love Mom and Dad, they’re wrong about this. It’s my life. I have to live it as I think best, whether they agree or not.” She rose and strode toward the door, pausing only to reach for her purse. “I’ll be back in a little while. It’s time Mom and Dad and I talked this thing out.”
It had not gone well, Jess thought despondently as she got into her car. Actually, “abysmal” might be a better way to describe the encounter with her parents. Although her mother had been somewhat receptive, her father had stubbornly refused to listen to anything that conflicted with his firmly entrenched opinions, summarily dismissing the notion that Scott might truly have repented and changed. When their “discussion” degenerated to the point of becoming a shouting match, Jess had simply walked out.
She drove aimlessly for a time, too upset to return to the condo and face Scott but with no other destination in mind—until she suddenly thought about the meditation garden he’d designed for his church. She’d made a point to note the name of the church on his drawing, thinking that she might stop by sometime to see in person what she had so admired on paper. And suddenly this seemed as good a time as any. A contemplative, quiet place to think was just what she needed.
When Jess pulled into the deserted parking lot a few minutes later, dusk was starting to descend. A slight breeze gently stirred the warm air, giving the illusion of coolness, and the birds were just beginning their twilight song. She made her way toward the back of the church, pausing in admiration when she turned the corner. The rough pencil sketch had hardly done justice to the garden Scott had designed, she realized as her appreciative gaze swept over the scene.
A natural-wood gazebo stood gracefully on a small rise and was reflected in the surface of the placid lake beside it. A curving path led to the structur
e, weaving in and out among banks of glorious flowers that spilled down in welcoming array. As Jess slowly made her way toward the lake, she felt enveloped in color and harmony—the result of expert design, she realized. And by the time she stepped into the gazebo, her tension had eased considerably.
Jess sank onto the wooden bench that rimmed the inside of the structure and thought about the creator of this oasis of peace and harmony and tranquillity. Her husband. The man she had once loved with a passion that had seemed destined to endure for all time. But in the end, it hadn’t been strong enough to survive hardship and tragedy. Oh, the passion had been. No question about that. But the love…that was different. Love was so much more than just hormones. It was trust and consideration and respect and communication and sharing and commitment. It was putting the other person’s needs above your own. It was supporting them and believing in them even when the world didn’t.
And it was forgiving.
Jess drew a long, shaky breath. The Scott who had emerged from the gray walls of prison was a man who, under other circumstances, she could easily fall in love with, she acknowledged. But they weren’t beginning a relationship from scratch. They had a history together, one filled with pain and loss and tragedy. And so their future very much depended on forgiveness. Hers.
“Jess?”
She turned, startled. “Reverend Young!”
The minister closed the distance between them, pausing at the edge of the gazebo. “I’m sorry. Am I disturbing you?”
She managed a wry smile. “Relatively speaking, no.”
“May I join you, then?”
“Of course.”
He stepped up into the gazebo and sat across from her, gazing out over the lake. “This is a great spot, isn’t it? I usually come back here for a few minutes to refresh my soul whenever I stop by the church. Scott did a great job.” He paused for a moment to savor the view, then turned back to her. “By the way, I spoke with him a little while ago,” he said. At her surprised look, he smiled. “We stay in close touch. I told him when he got out that I would always be available as a sounding board, and I’m happy to say he takes me up on the offer regularly. He told me about his encounter with your parents. And that you had gone to talk with them. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.”
