“Think I can’t handle it?” She feigned a duck away from his hand.
He caught hold of the cord and she released her grip. “Not for a moment,” he said.
When they reached the field, he dropped the equipment bag on the ground next to the bleachers and flexed his fingers.
“Is something wrong?” Tessa asked.
He waited until the last person from the earlier game passed them. “No, something’s right. Anne didn’t just tell me about approving the project manager position yesterday. She offered it to me.”
“But last night—”
“I wasn’t ready to tell you. I needed to process things.”
“Your father being here?”
“And a lot more.” He studied her face. Did she realize he meant her, them?
“Is it what you want?”
“I think so.” Both the job and Tessa. “It’s a good opportunity for advancement, and I like the people I work with.”
“But you’re not sure. You’ve been talking about leaving the area for a position with GreenSpaces elsewhere since the day we met, more so lately.”
Josh heard Tessa’s comment as unspoken concern about his relationship with his father. That, or he was too fixated on it himself. Why was he waffling? He could handle his father. The move to project manager was what he’d been working toward the past three years with his Utica PolyTech distance learning courses. “No, I am sure. On Monday, I’m going to tell Anne I accept the job.”
Tessa clapped and threw her arms around his shoulders in a quick hug. “I’m glad. Congratulations,” she said, releasing him.
His gaze dropped to her lips. So close.
She stepped back at the sound of children’s voices in the background. Hope and Owen were racing across the grass, arguing, his father following behind.
Josh shook his hands to unfreeze the tension that immediately infused his every muscle. He could only hope the congratulations on his decision weren’t premature.
* * *
A burnt smell drifted from the kitchen, bringing Tessa at a full run from the dining room where she’d been arranging daffodils, tulips and violets from her grandmother’s flower gardens. What was she thinking, inviting Josh to a home-cooked celebration dinner when he’d texted her this morning that he’d accepted the promotion? She didn’t cook.
Her spaghetti sauce—made from jar sauce with a few extra ingredients her grandmother had suggested—bubbled over the side of the pot to join the puddle on the stovetop that was running onto the burner. She grabbed a pot holder and the big metal spoon from the utensil holder above the stove and sighed with relief when a few deep stirs to the bottom of the pan assured her the only burnt sauce was the stuff on the stovetop. After wiping up the spill and turning on the exhaust fan above the stove, she put water on to boil for the pasta, the last thing she needed to do. Tessa checked the clock and admired her masterpiece cooling on the counter—a strawberry-rhubarb pie, Josh’s favorite, made from his grandmother’s recipe. She’d called Mrs. Stowe, who’d graciously shared it. The salad was in the refrigerator. Everything was set.
“Mmmm. It smells good in here.” Tessa’s grandmother sniffed the air as she entered the kitchen. “When is Josh coming?”
“I told him six.”
“Marie will be by about quarter of to pick me up.”
Knowing her grandmother had plans for the evening had seemed perfect this morning when Tessa had asked Josh over. Now, thinking back over the week and the awkwardness of her growing attraction to Josh, she wondered if there wouldn’t be more safety in numbers.
“No rush. I’ve made plenty if you and Mrs. Delacroix want to eat with us before you go to your meeting.”
“I wouldn’t think of it,” her grandmother said. “If you want, I’ll put the pasta in so you can change.”
Tessa looked at her sauce-spattered T-shirt and jeans. Everything was set, except her. She hadn’t even thought about what to wear. Preparing the food had taken all her concentration, and it wasn’t as if she usually gave any thought what to wear to hang with Josh. But tonight didn’t feel like just hanging out.
“That would be great,” Tessa said.
Her grandmother lifted the pan lid to see if the pasta water was boiling. “I washed and dried that heather top that looks so nice on you, along with the skirt you often wear with it. They’re up on your bed.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She’d gotten several compliments on the crocheted-lace-trimmed T-shirt and flowing calf-length skirt when she’d worn the outfit to church. But it was kind of dressy for her everyday wear. She expected Josh would go home and change into jeans before coming over.
“Scoot,” Grandma said. “Or he’ll be here before you’re back down.”
Then she wouldn’t have to decide what to wear. Of course, Grandma had already done that for her anyway. She walked upstairs. Her usual jeans and a blouse would be fine. Why was she obsessing about what to wear anyway? Josh probably wouldn’t notice what she had on. She opened her bedroom door and saw the clothes her grandmother had laid out on the bed, along with Tessa’s amethyst pendant and matching teardrop earrings. But she wanted Josh to notice. She wanted to feel pretty for him, make him see her as more than a buddy.
Tessa quickly showered, put on the softly feminine outfit and jewelry and ran a hairbrush through her chestnut waves. She pulled her hair back to pin it up in a knot as she usually wore and stopped, releasing the strands to cascade over her shoulders. No. Tonight was a celebration. She’d wear it down. Josh had told her she looked nice when she wore her hair down for Connor’s wedding. She added some mascara and lipstick and twirled around in front of the mirror, sending the gauzy fabric of the multicolored skirt swirling out around her knees. Now she was set, too. As set as she was going to be.
On the way downstairs, her heart thumped with anticipation, tempered by a longing to cross back over into just-friends territory. She moistened her lips and swallowed the phantom taste of Chianti in her mouth, a reminder of the Tessa Josh had to recognize and accept if they were going to move forward to test the relationship she wanted.
“Hey,” Josh said when Tessa reached the doorway from the stairs to the living room.
His gaze rested on her until she wondered if she’d put her top on inside out or something.
“Your grandmother let me in on her way out and said you’d be right down.”
Tessa waltzed off the last step. “Well, here I am.”
“So you are. You look pretty. I like your hair like that.”
“Thank you. You look nice, too.” Josh had dressed up, too, or not changed from his work clothes. No, no way his Dockers would have held a sharp crease like that all day long.
Tessa smoothed her skirt and lowered her gaze to her bare feet and Barney-the-Dinosaur-purple toenails.
His gaze followed. “Nice touch.” His mouth curved in a warm smile that stopped short of being his typical grin.
She felt her cheeks pink. What was wrong with her? He’d certainly seen her feet before. “I’ll just go slip on my shoes. They’re in the kitchen.” She’d left her wedge pumps by the door after church yesterday. “And check on dinner.”
Josh rose. Shoeless, she felt diminutive beside him.
“I’ll come give you a hand.”
“Of course. You didn’t think I was going to wait on you, did you?”
“Never.” Josh followed her into the kitchen.
“The plates and cups are in the upper cupboard and the flatware is in the drawer next to the sink.” In companionable silence, Tessa put the pasta and sauce in serving bowls and placed them on the table while Josh put out the place settings. She grabbed the salad from the refrigerator.
Josh surveyed the table when he’d finished. “I’m starving. Is that everything? It all looks and smells delicious.”
<
br /> “Because you’re starving?”
“No, because it does. And is that a strawberry-rhubarb pie there on the counter by any chance?”
“It is. I got the recipe from your grandmother.” Which she hoped assured her success, since it was the first pie she’d ever baked.
“Home-cooked food. Pie. You’ve gone all out,” he said.
“It’s not every day we have something this big to celebrate.”
Josh’s eyes flickered before brightening, interrupting the reassuring camaraderie that had been guiding Tessa into a familiar comfortable rhythm with him.
“Yep. College done. Check. Project manager job. Check. I aced it again, right on schedule.”
Tessa laughed. “With that, I think it’s time to get your mouth doing something other than talking.” She reached for the back of her chair, but Josh got there first and pulled it out for her with a flourish. “Thanks,” she said. “Now sit.”
Once Josh was in the chair across from her, Tessa bowed her head. “Dear Lord, thank You for this food and the opportunities You have given both of us.” She paused for a nanosecond. “Right here. Use us to Your service. Amen.”
“Amen,” Josh said, picking up his fork and taking his time swirling the spaghetti around it.
“It’s safe,” she said. Josh was fully aware of her cooking abilities and lack thereof.
He completed the spin. “It’s not that.” As if to prove his point, Josh shoveled in the forkful of spaghetti.
Tessa fingered her pendant. Was he having second thoughts? As long as she’d known Josh, he’d been talking about leaving the Paradox Lake area.
“I have to go to the Boston office for a couple of weeks to shadow one of the project managers there as training. Even though I won’t be starting the new manager position here until they hire a new drafter to replace me, Anne wants me to leave first thing tomorrow morning. The manager I’m going to shadow will be on vacation for a couple of weeks beginning week after next.”
“You don’t sound very enthused.”
“I am. It’ll be great to get some hands-on direction and see how a larger office operates.” He placed his fork on his plate. “It’s the Majestic.”
Tessa waved him off with relief. “Not to worry. You’ve got the new wiring done, except for the kitchen area you partitioned off and the stage lights. We can all pitch in on getting the new wallboard up in there once you get back and wire the kitchen. Myles and I can handle the taping and painting. After you get back, we’ll still have a couple of weeks until the opening.”
Josh released his breath in a puff. “It’s not the wiring or the walls. It’s the stage floor. I was looking at it yesterday, to get Myles going refinishing it to match the new dining floor. I found what looks like old carpenter ant damage to some of the under flooring and support beams.”
“Oh. Did you go ahead and call an exterminator? You didn’t have to wait and clear it with me.”
Josh nodded. “They’re coming Wednesday. But that’s not the real problem. The stage isn’t safe. It has to be rebuilt.”
“Can Myles and I work on it while you’re gone?”
“You can tear down the old stage, but I need to be here for the construction.”
Tessa bit back an argument. Josh wouldn’t have said that if he thought she and Myles could handle the work without him. He wouldn’t put his ego ahead of getting the work done.
“I’ll get revised plans to the town zoning board before I leave for Boston tomorrow.”
“Josh, it’s okay,” she said with more bravado than she felt. “Put it away for now. We’re celebrating. To your new job.” She lifted a meatball in toast.
“To my new job.” He did the same.
“We’ll just have to work double-time on the theater when you get back.”
Josh gulped down some water. “About that. With the new job, I’m not going to be able to take as much vacation time as I’d planned to work on the theater.”
She cleaved the meatball in half with her fork. He wasn’t going to bail on her now that he got his promotion, was he?
“But don’t worry. I’ll blank out all my evenings and Saturdays for you and ask Myles if any of his friends want to pick up some work. We’ll make your planned Memorial Day weekend opening.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “You and I have too much going between us for me to let you down. Not after the way you’ve put up with me all these years and been there whenever I’ve needed you.”
Tessa let his words flow over her and squeezed his hand back, caressing the callused palm. “You do know I’m not infallible?” she asked, not quite achieving the lightness she wanted.
Silence hung for a moment.
“Yes, I understand what you mean and accept it.”
“Do you?” She might as well lay her heart open. “Because I think we’re on the edge of something special.”
His face lit as if her words had lifted a burden from him. “So do I. No one is perfect. You have your inner demons. I have mine. With God’s help, we can overcome them together. I think it’s a battle worth fighting.”
Josh’s admission was more powerful than even her grandparents’ unconditional support. “With troops like that,” she said, “how can we lose?”
Chapter Twelve
The manager job was everything Josh had expected and wanted. The people he was training with in the Boston office were great, almost as great as his co-workers in Ticonderoga. Not seeing Tessa for eleven days was another story. They’d talked on the phone almost daily, but late at night after Tessa had finished working with Myles at the Majestic. And it wasn’t the same as talking in person and seeing her expressions. He’d admit, to himself at least, that he had it bad. But not bad enough to suggest Skypeing, not enough to let her know how much he yearned to see her smile. This new road they were taking was still under construction. He hadn’t identified all of the possible land mines yet.
Josh’s cell phone choo-chooed an alert to a text message from Hope, pulling him from his thoughts and bed.
Where are you? We’re done setting up the field.
Josh blinked and refocused on the phone screen. Eight-forty. The match was at nine. When he’d glanced at the alarm clock a few minutes ago, he’d thought it said seven-thirty. He stretched. After going out to dinner with the guys from the Boston office, he hadn’t even started his four-hour drive home until after nine last night.
Better get a move on it. He started grabbing clothes. This was the championship game he’d boasted that the team would make at the beginning of the season. What kind of coach would be late for the championship game? Not the kind he wanted to be, nor the kind he realized he’d been all season.
“About time,” Hope shouted before he’d even reached the field, drawing the attention of the people on the bleachers.
He strode to her and Tessa and ruffled his sister’s hair. “The game doesn’t start for another five, and I’m sure you and Coach Tessa have everything in hand.”
“Late night with the drive home?” Tessa asked.
“More like early morning.” He stopped himself from rubbing his eyes. “The guys wanted to take me to dinner before I left.”
Josh scanned the front bleachers for the usual Donnelly contingent and didn’t see them. “Where are Jared and Becca and Connor and Natalie?”
“Don’t you remember?” Hope asked. “Brendon has his big motocross race today at Jared’s track. He gets Jared, Becca and Natalie. I get you, Connor and Daddy, except Connor got a phone call and is going to be late.”
“I did forget.” Josh laughed at the way Hope and Brendon had divvied up the family and rechecked the bleachers. “How did you get here?”
“Daddy.”
“Where is he?” If he’d just dropped Hope here and left...
“Way up there.” She pointed to the top corner of the bleachers. “He didn’t know he was supposed to sit in front, and I had to help Tessa, so I didn’t tell him yet. Mr. and Mrs. Hill are saving seats for him and Connor.”
Josh shielded his eyes from the bright morning sun and found his father sitting alone in the top left-hand corner. “I’ll tell him.”
The smile Tessa flashed him confirmed that he’d actually spoken the words. He raced up the stands in double-time before he thought of a reason not to.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Josh. Isn’t the game about to start?”
He glanced at the field below. “Yeah, but didn’t Hope and Connor tell you that the Donnellys all sit front and center?” He could set aside his ill feelings about his dad for the morning—for Hope, for Tessa.
“I...”
Josh waved off any argument his father might have. “Come on. I’ve got to get back down.” His father matched him almost bound for bound down the stands. Not bad for an old guy.
Tessa gave Josh a hidden thumbs-up as the Hills welcomed his father, and he took the seat they’d saved for him. Josh scuffed the toe of his athletic shoe in the shorn grass between the bleachers and the field, glad that the referee’s shrill whistle signaling the teams to take the field prevented Tessa from saying anything.
The kids played fierce and fast, ending the first half with the score tied zero to zero. Josh and Tessa fielded dirty looks from some of the kids and spectators, along with a few jeers from the stands, when they rotated in the less-skilled team members after the half. They’d agreed ahead of the game that everyone on the team deserved to play in the championship.
With minutes left and the score still tied zip-zip, the opposing team got in a bullet shot that looked to be a sure goal. Owen raced from the left of the goal where he’d fielded the last attempt and propelled his compact little body like a rocket to the right side of the goal, knocking the kick out and landing facedown on the field. Before the referee could whistle a stop to the game, Owen leaped to his feet and waved that he was okay, a move that gave Hope time to get the ball and dribble it down the field into scoring range.
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