by Gail Sattler
“Okay, you win. I’ll play ‘Pop Goes the Weasel.’ But you still won’t make me like it.”
Jillian smiled back at him again. His beautiful smile always made her weaken. And the way his gorgeous blue eyes crinkled at the corners would send any woman’s heart aflutter. Her eyes widened then narrowed at the direction of her thoughts, thoughts she refused to have ever again. “That’s it,” she said sternly.
He said the same thing at the end of every lesson. She followed every syllable in her thoughts as he spoke, almost mouthing his words. “Yup, time for me to go get Betsy.”
As usual, she watched him walk down the street toward the school until he rounded the corner. Soon the selections in the book would become more difficult, and Jed would reach the point where each lesson would require enough work to keep him busy for a week. Trouble was, Jillian couldn’t decide if that was good or bad.
❧
Busy making supper, Jed didn’t notice Liz and Frank come in the door until he heard Liz’s voice behind him, causing him to drop the spoon into the pot he was stirring.
“Hi, Jed.” Liz peeked into one of the other pots as he tried to fish the spoon out with another one.
“Oh. Hi, Liz. Frank. How’s work?”
Frank, as usual, said nothing. He disappeared into the living room to read the paper. Liz looked like she was sagging.
“I’m exhausted,” she moaned. “I’m just glad it’s Friday. You look quite perky, though. And what was that tune you were humming? Sounded like ‘Pop Goes the Weasel.’ ”
❧
Jillian was gobbling down her lunch in the fifteen minutes she allotted on Saturday between morning and afternoon sessions, when the phone rang.
“Hello?” She answered the phone between bites, trying not to sound impatient. If she didn’t finish her lunch before the next student arrived, she would go hungry. This job did not allow for coffee breaks. A trip to the bathroom proved equally difficult. But she couldn’t let the answering machine get the phone, in case it was a student canceling his lesson.
Jed’s cheerful voice rang out on the other end of the phone. “Hi, Jillian.”
Jillian almost choked on the last bite of her sandwich. What was he doing calling on Saturday? After the scene he made yesterday, she hoped he wasn’t phoning to complain about “Pop Goes the Weasel.” “Yes, Jed, what can I do for you?”
“I know you’re trying to rush down your lunch, so I won’t keep you. I was wondering if you’d like to join me for dinner tonight after your lessons for the day are over.”
Dinner? Like a date? The thought of Jed asking her out hadn’t crossed her mind as a possibility. “I’m really in a hurry before my next student gets here, so I don’t have time to talk about it, but my answer is no. I don’t date my students.”
Jed paused only briefly. “I’m not asking for a date. I’m just asking if you would like to join me for dinner. I’m bored and lonely, and I was hoping you’d feel sorry for me.”
Jillian checked her watch, counting the seconds. Her next student was due to arrive any moment. “No, Jed, I don’t think so.” She estimated she had one minute to gulp down her milk and run to the bathroom.
“Aw, come on. I’m all alone and I don’t even know where to go in this town.”
Jillian heard the sound of a car stopping and cutting the engine. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” The car door slammed. Then another.
“Aw, come on. Please? I promise to behave.”
The doorbell rang. Jillian glanced toward the door and shuffled her feet. “Oh, all right. I’ll be finished at six o’clock. And I’ll need a few minutes to get ready.”
“Sounds great. I won’t keep you. Bye.” A click sounded as he hung up.
“Bye,” Jillian answered to dead-air space, mentally kicking herself as she replaced the receiver. She wondered if he questioned her excuse about not dating her students. Would he know the oldest of her students, except for himself, was only fifteen and female?
She literally ran to answer the door for her first student of the afternoon, but found it difficult to concentrate on the lesson. If it wasn’t a date, then what was it when a man invited a woman out to dinner on Saturday night? And the next time she considered a date, she would be sure she knew the man and he came with full recommendations from at least ten reliable sources. She knew nothing about Jed and practically nothing about his family, other than one of her other students was his nephew, and they paid on time. At the sound of a horrible discord, she focused her full attention on her student, where it should have been in the first place.
Jed arrived on time at 6:00. However, her lessons were running a bit late, so Jed sat waiting in the hallway in the chair reserved for incoming students. Even though he remained quiet, she could see him out of the corner of her eye, and she found him distracting. Like a typical man, Jed sat with his long legs stretched out in front of him and slightly apart as he leaned back in the seat with his hands casually clasped behind his head, the picture of lazy contentment. How could a man with such masculine appeal be so. . .nice?
Jillian tried her best to concentrate on the broken and uneven performance of her student. “I think that needs a bit more practice, Deborah, but you’ve come a long way in one week. What do you think?”
“Yes,” Deborah replied. “I’ve been working on the hard parts, but I should have it better for next week.”
“Next week, then. Our time is up. Keep up the good work.”
“Thank you, Miss Jefferson, I will.”
With that, Jillian closed the book and the girl picked it up, prepared to leave. Jed straightened in the chair but did not stand as Jillian saw her student to the door. When the door closed, they stared at each other, neither of them speaking. Jillian’s mouth refused to move as a million thoughts raced through her mind. If the only reason she had agreed to accompany him to dinner was because he had badgered her into it, why did she look forward to the evening so much? The thought scared her.
Jed stood. “Are you hungry? I have no idea where to go in this city, so it’s up to you to pick someplace good.”
Jillian composed her thoughts. “Sure. I just have to freshen up and I’ll be right back.”
She walked stiffly to the bathroom, trying to hold herself properly, in case he was watching her. After a few composing breaths, she checked her reflection in the mirror. She wore no makeup and her hair was a mess. Although her hair was naturally wavy, she would have liked to run a curling iron through it, but she didn’t have time with Jed waiting. Then she wondered why it mattered. Jed was a student, nothing more. She brushed her hair to fluff it up and hastily applied a little lipstick.
Trying to quell her jitters, she rummaged through her box of earrings, but ended up simply wearing the ones she already had on. This wasn’t a date. She was Jed’s teacher, and it was only dinner, and she had no intention of trying to impress him. She stood back to give herself one final check in the mirror.
Jed wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, although he didn’t know why he was nervous. As it was, he still didn’t know why he’d asked her in the first place. He wasn’t sure he could trust his own judgment anymore, but after nearly two months of piano lessons and pumping Mark with questions, he’d decided to take a chance that Jillian was safe.
He made his decision based on the fact that even though they enjoyed each other’s company during lesson time, she’d made herself perfectly clear on many occasions that she had no interest in him other than as a student, which was fine with him. Jed tried to convince himself that was exactly what he wanted, although the thought stung, just a little.
And to top it off, now Liz was mad at him because they’d hardly spent any time alone together since he got here. If she found out he was taking the piano teacher out tonight instead of her, she’d hit the roof. The guys from work had invited him out for a couple of beers, too. And here he was, standing in Jillian’s front hall, shuffling his feet like a kid on his first date.
Jillian s
tepped out into the hall and sucked in a deep breath. “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She still wondered about the wisdom of seeing Jed outside of lessons, but his teasing sense of humor made her laugh like no one else, and against her better judgment, she looked forward to an evening with him.
Unlike Graham, Jed never tried to impress her, or made promises he had no intention of keeping. And why was she comparing Jed to Graham? Jillian clenched her teeth. She had no intention of dating Jed. Ever.
Jed removed his jacket from the coatrack and slung it over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Jillian slipped her feet into the nearest pair of shoes, speaking without raising her head. “I’m not so sure this is a good idea, Jed,” she mumbled. The last time she let her guard down she had met with disastrous results, and she refused to let that happen again. She enjoyed Jed’s company too much to risk crossing that line.
She sensed a lack of movement from Jed as he stood with his hand on the doorknob. “It’s just dinner. Relax, Jillian. We can discuss the intricacies of ‘Pop Goes the Weasel’ if you want, but I’d prefer we didn’t.”
Discussing “Pop Goes the Weasel” was the furthest thing from her mind, but she would if she had to. A knot formed in her gut, and she wondered exactly what they would discuss; her suspicion that this really wasn’t a good idea solidified into certainty. What did she know about him, except that he could carry on with amiable chitchat, and that he really was serious about learning to play the piano, at least so far? However, it was too late to back out now, so she would make the best of the evening. She would have dinner with Jed, and from that point on, she would only see him during lessons.
Jillian sighed in relief at her sensible conclusion. “Shall we go?”
After she locked the door, she followed Jed to a huge, snappy four-wheel-drive truck parked in front of her house. She realized that since he walked to every lesson, she hadn’t known what kind of car he drove, or if he even owned one. Now she knew.
She grasped the door frame and hoisted herself way up into it, swishing her long flowing skirt underneath her as she scrambled onto the seat. “Nice truck,” she commented, fishing for something to open a safe topic of conversation. Personally, she preferred her economy compact car, which was much closer to the ground. Why did men pick vehicles you needed a ladder to get into?
Jed watched Jillian struggle to climb into the passenger seat. He could tell she wasn’t impressed with his truck, but after all that had happened recently, it was the only material goods he had to his name besides a few pieces of furniture. He wasn’t even sure she was very impressed with him, either.
He walked around to the driver’s side. She couldn’t have made her intentions any more clear, and it hurt. But wasn’t that what he wanted? To stay clear of any close personal involvement? He was going to need a whole year of careful managing to recover from what Brenda had done to him, and he didn’t want to go through that again, emotionally or financially. Nothing was going to stop him from fulfilling his dream this time. Nothing. Including and especially Jillian Jefferson.
four
The roar of the engine startled Jillian as Jed turned the key to start the large truck. He stepped on the clutch, threw the stick shift into gear, and turned to her. “So, where should we go?”
She directed him through the city as Jed good-naturedly complained about the traffic, as if he had to worry driving his huge monstrosity of a truck. One of the few things she knew about him was that he had previously lived in a small town in northern British Columbia, and she wondered if it even had rush hour traffic.
As she expected, a line awaited them when they arrived at the restaurant. Jed added their names to the waiting list, and Jillian wondered what to do to kill time until it came their turn for a table.
She had enjoyed his lighthearted banter in the truck, even his teasing about her height and her difficulty climbing into the high cab. Jillian struggled to think of a way to get back at him.
As a popular piano tune came on the background music, an idea came to her. “So, seen any weasels lately?” she asked, humming his favorite song, just to get his goat.
He quirked one eyebrow in response. “Yeah, but I chased it around a bush in the backyard for fun, then I popped him. He’s gone now.”
The hostess chose that moment to call their names, preventing Jillian from making a reply.
As they were seated, another waiter delivered a colorful castle-shaped kids-meal box to the family at the next table. The child delved into it, going for the ice cream first before the mother removed the container from his tiny fingers and placed it in the center of the table. The child complained at the same time as he started to shovel the fries into his mouth.
Jed sighed as he watched. “Mark and Betsy would love it here,” he said.
“I’ve been wondering why you’re doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Baby-sitting.” Jillian studied Jed as he sat across from her. Tall, good-looking, intelligent, and single. And he had a job, so he wasn’t desperate for money. While she was curious, lesson time was not the time for such a personal question. Even though it was probably none of her business, she’d wondered from the first time she met him why he was baby-sitting.
“Well, they’re not exactly babies. Mark is in grade three, and Betsy is in kindergarten. They’re just not old enough to be left alone. It’s not bad, although I must admit sometimes they do drive me a little nuts. That’s why I decided to take piano lessons.” He grinned and winked. Jillian nearly choked on her water.
“So you decided to take piano lessons to help keep you sane.” Now she had an answer to that question, which only led her to wonder about other things. “You still haven’t explained why you’re doing baby-sitting.”
“It’s not really a very exciting story.” He shrugged his shoulders. “When the mill where I worked shut down, I sold my condo and managed to find a job here in town. At the same time, my sister’s sitter quit. Seems she thinks it’s cheaper to have me live there than pay for day care. She asked me if I would baby-sit in exchange for room and board until next September. They feed me, except I have to start supper on weekdays. So here I am. End of story.”
“Why September? That’s nearly a year away. What’s happening in September?”
Jed’s back stiffened. “I’ve registered for college, and I’m going to finish up my degree in education.”
“Education? I thought you had a job.” Jillian had no teaching degrees. Of course she had her bachelor’s degree in music, but she’d never taken any teaching courses.
“I plan to be a high school teacher. I’m going to teach English.”
Jillian imagined a string of giddy teenage girls hanging around Jed after class. The boys would probably suffer from slight cases of hero-delusions as well. As it was, Mark worshipped the ground Jed walked on. She heard a little more about Jed every Tuesday during Mark’s lesson. She would have liked Jed even if she had never met him. According to Mark, not only could he cook, but he wasn’t afraid of housework. She imagined women waiting in line for him.
Her lips tightened as she stopped her mind from wandering. She would not be waiting in line, picking a number.
“So, what do you do besides piano lessons, your night job, and baby-sitting?”
“Not much. I don’t get out much.” Jed paused and started to play with his silverware. “I hope there isn’t something or someone I’m keeping you from tonight.”
Jillian would have laughed, except it wasn’t funny. Aside from piano lessons, her calendar was bare. If he was referring to the possibility of a boyfriend, he couldn’t be more wrong. The men who asked her for a date only wanted one thing, and when she didn’t give in, they were no longer interested in her. She had simply stopped opening herself up to more disappointments, and she was happy that way.
She sighed, then caught her breath, hoping Jed hadn’t noticed. At first, she had thought Graham was different, but in the end, the wounds he inf
licted were worse than all of them combined. “No, the opposite, I’m afraid to admit. Since I decided to teach piano lessons for a living, most of my evenings are taken up, and by the time Saturday night rolls around, I’m usually too tired to go out.”
The waiter arrived with their orders, halting their conversation for the moment. At first she was hesitant, but she made a quick decision to bow her head for a few seconds of silent prayer before she ate. The same split second her eyes closed, Jed’s hand touched her wrist. Her eyes shot open.
“Jillian? Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”
Her head lowered again. “I just paused for a moment of thanks,” she mumbled.
“Can we pray together?”
Her heart caught in her throat. She knew Mark’s family attended church, but she didn’t know if Jed also participated in church life, nor did she know the depth of his commitment, or if it included praying in a public restaurant. Not only that, she wasn’t sure she was ready to pray with him, because praying with someone encouraged a closeness she didn’t want to share with Jed. But she couldn’t refuse without looking churlish. She gulped and nodded.
Jed bowed his head. “Thank You, Heavenly Father, for this time of fellowship, this good meal, and the abundance You provide for us. Amen.”
All she could do was raise her head, blink, and stare.
His ears reddened as he reached for his fork. “Hey, with two hungry little kids waiting to eat, we don’t do long prayers. Don’t you hate when you go out after church, and by the time the prayer is finished, your lunch is cold?”
“I guess.”
Jed caught her off guard with his wide smile, starting to eat and continuing on as if there had been no interruption. “So, if you don’t get out much, how would you like to have lunch together sometime during the week? I drop Betsy off at 12:30 every day, and don’t have to pick her up until 3:00. Or maybe we could do something else, although to tell the truth, I still haven’t figured out what there is to do in the afternoon. I usually do my share of the housework, and practice my piano lessons like a good boy.” He finished off his statement with an exaggerated wink.
