Harvest Moon
Page 5
“Since we’ll be working together and…” Jay shifted his feet, sighed loudly. “Oh hell. Can I be blunt?”
Trent nodded, but his mouth dried and his appetite disappeared.
“She asked for my help. I learned what had happened, with your adoption, the incident with the Harris family. That your real father wasn’t Elmer Tate, and it’s actually your adoptive father.” Jay fully turned and stared at Trent. “Look, I’ve kept the details to myself. So you know.”
Trent met Jay’s stare. “Thanks. I’m stepping into some murky waters around here. Glad to know I’ve got a friend.”
Jay grinned. “I’ll introduce you around town during the week.” Jay finished off his food and stood. “Time to get back to work.”
“Leave the plate.” Trent motioned to the small table. “I’ll be in the office this afternoon if you need me.”
Jay walked down the driveway, toward his house. Trent sat and enjoyed a quiet moment before heading to his office to make a few marketing calls. His cell phone vibrated on the table to his side, so he picked it up.
A text from Angie, saying she had afternoon plans with friends and would meet him at Sophie’s birthday party tomorrow night. She needed an address. He sent a quick text off to Duncan to find out.
From his phone, he checked his e-mail account. Amidst the new arrivals was one from Etta. His heart lifted with the hope yesterday’s comment hadn’t scared her off. A comment so honest, he didn’t stop to consider the strong emotion of his words. Her delight over his song, though, had brought him so much pleasure.
From the start of their off-blog chats, Etta had expressed reluctance to hand him private information. A leak of his more personal feelings might have been a mistake. Their strange and wonderful relationship was one he’d never shared with a single soul. Public opinion often ran against the things he did. An admission to the world he’d fallen hard and fast for a woman he’d met on the Internet would only be another strike against him.
His genuine, but somewhat flirtatious remark, about how much it mattered she liked his song may have crossed a line. As he opened the e-mail and read, a smile crossed his lips.
* * * *
People loved to tell Veronica details she didn’t want to know.
While sitting in Sunny Side Up, she’d asked a simple “How are you?” to her neighbor, Mrs. Miller. The woman, ignoring her lunch companion, now spoke rather loudly from two booths over about last month’s foot surgery, offering several graphic details about the procedure. Veronica’s appetite nosedived.
Veronica held a finger in her place in the book she’d been reading before the interruption. “I’m glad you’re better now. Nice to see you.”
Bernadette slid into the bench seat opposite Veronica. “Sorry I’m late.” She glanced to her side. “Oh, hey, Mrs. Miller. How’ve you been?”
“Veronica can fill you in. Nice to see you both.”
Bernadette lowered her voice. “She okay?”
“She had foot surgery. Don’t ask.” Veronica slipped the self-help book into her purse so Bernadette didn’t see the cover and start wondering why Veronica needed help.
“Oh.” Bernadette took off her capped sleeve sweater, revealing a sleeveless white blouse. “My deposition in New Haven took longer than I’d planned. Are Meg and Sophie coming?”
“Meg texted five minutes ago when she left the office. Sophie passed today, something about being busy at the farm showing Trent around. Have you met him yet?”
Bernadette combed her fingers through the sweeping bangs of her sable hair, more wilted than usual thanks to the humid day. “Yeah. At their July Fourth party. Weren’t you there?”
She shook her head. “Jim took me to Vermont. Remember?”
“Right, right.” Bernadette lifted a laminated menu from the metal holder and studied it for a few seconds.
“Hellooooo, sweetie.” Meg’s voice rose above the crowded eatery noise. She waved at a woman Veronica didn’t recognize, who wore a navy linen blazer like Meg’s with a Blue Moon Lake Realty logo on the lapel. “Call me later.” She pressed her fingers against her shiny auburn hair right near her ear, forming a fake phone receiver. “I’ve got a new listing. One everyone in the New Scotland office will love.”
Meg slipped next to Bernadette and bumped her with a curvy hip. “Skootch over.”
Bernadette pressed into the corner and handed Meg the menu, but she took it and stared at Veronica. “Did you get me a signed book at the luncheon?”
“Yes, but I left it home. I’ll drop it off later.”
“I’m showing someone a house after dinner. If I’m not there, just leave it inside the storm door.” Meg glanced at the menu.
“Did your old friends come to the library luncheon?” Bernadette flagged the waitress, who leaned at the counter end, talking to a patron, and didn’t move.
“Some of them.”
Not Gail, though. Veronica’s calm unraveled, reminded how Gail’s absence at the event left her without any answers about Gary’s emergence.
She took a long sip of cold water and tried to shake off her discomfort. “I probably should’ve stayed home.”
Meg glanced up from the menu. “Why?”
Veronica recapped her three bad omens, ending with the elevator incident.
“You were lucky.” Meg bobbed her head.
Bernadette glanced her way, brows scrunched together. “How’s that lucky?”
“Because bad things come in fives.”
“It’s threes, doll. They come in threes.” Bernadette tapped the menu. “I’m pressed for time today. Know what you want?”
“I do.” Meg dropped the menu and cut a glance between them, her green eyes wide with excitement. “Guess what? I stopped by Sophie’s after dinner last night and Trent was there.” She sighed. “If only I were a single woman.”
“But you’re not,” Bernadette said.
“Don’t be a spoil sport. Now, back to Trent—”
“Ready to order, gals?” Peg stood at the end of their booth and pulled a pencil from her stiff hair, propped a small pad close to her chest, and stared down her slender, long nose.
She nodded to Meg, who launched into great detail about her salad order, a concoction combining elements from four different salads on the menu.
Peg scribbled on the pad. “Dressing on the side, right?”
Meg pointed a finger at the waitress. “You’ve sure dialed my number.”
“Hon, I’ve dialed all your numbers. Next…”
The waitress finished and left.
Meg leaned forward. “Anyway, he’s coming to Sophie’s birthday party—”
“Who?” Bernadette said, a little too loudly.
“Trent.” Meg glared at Bernadette. “Now pay attention. Sophie wanted me to remind you guys not to bring up how we were snooping on the Jamieson clan last fall, when they outbid her on the land. Okay?”
Bernadette rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t she trust us?”
“I’m merely passing the message along.”
Veronica was happy for Sophie, who in four months planned to marry the well-off resort executive who’d entered their lives last fall, when he’d outbid Sophie and her brother on land both parties wanted, land they all now owned together and ran as a vineyard. Despite her happiness for them, Veronica’s heart swelled with a case of mild envy.
Meg wiggled her brows. “Trent’s still got a bad boy allure, a little aloof, like he marches to his own beat.” She paused, twisted her lips. “Confident. He seems confident.”
Veronica leaned back as a bus boy set three glasses of water on the table. “I’m weary of overly confident men.”
Meg placed a hand over Veronica’s and inhaled a gasp. “Oh my gosh, I just thought of something.”
“What?”
“You’re single and Trent’s single.”
“So? I’m dating Jim.”
Meg frowned, then brightened right away.
“So what? I don’t see a ring on your finger. Is Jim coming to Sophie’s birthday party?”
“He’s not sure yet.”
Bernadette snorted. “Not sure? The party’s tomorrow.”
“You know how he is. He enjoys our one-on-one time, but he’s not into big gatherings.”
Bernadette pressed her lips tight, but in a matter of seconds, she blurted out, “Are you guys really serious?”
“Jim is a sweet man and he’s very…very kind to me. But…”
But what?
He didn’t make her toes curl when they kissed, and the eager excitement she used to feel on the day of a date with Marc never happened.
Veronica swallowed to dislodge the silence stealing her tongue. Heck, even the blue-eyed stranger in the elevator stirred some life inside her, whereas with Jim, her emotions remained as still as a stationary glass of water.
Bernadette’s gaze pierced Veronica. During moments like this, Veronica almost wished she’d told her friends the damage Gary had done to her back in grad school. Perhaps they’d leave her alone.
“But what?” Bernadette said impatiently.
“Nothing. Jim and I are happy with our situation. We keep things casual.”
Meg’s full lips bowed into a frown. “He should want to come to the party. For you.”
“I’m fine going to a party alone.”
“I know. But…” Meg tipped her head, the blunt edges of her amber hair grazing her shoulder. “…but sometimes I’m not sure you’re trying hard enough with him.”
Meg rarely said anything bad, leaving Veronica unsettled. “What do you mean?”
“You act like you don’t really care if he’s around or not. Maybe he thinks you don’t want him there.”
“That’s not true. What would possess you to say such a thing?”
“Because, at Bernadette’s barbecue last weekend, you barely said hello when he got there after work. Dave finally took him under his wing, got him talking with the guys.”
Veronica glanced at Bernadette. “Did Meg have one too many of your frozen margaritas? That’s not how I remember his arrival.”
Bernadette crinkled her sloped nose. “I’m afraid you did, sweetie. I know you were in a deep conversation with someone, but Jim did look a little put out.”
“Now I feel bad.” Had she done the same to Jim other times? “I didn’t mean to ignore him.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Meg piped in, her usual optimistic tone. “So, why not make it up to him by insisting he come Saturday night? Spruce yourself up with a spicy outfit and sexy shoes. Crank things up a notch and he might, too.” She winked. “This could bring you two closer together.”
Did she want more from her relationship with Jim? Thanks to the self-help book in her purse—Unleashing the Past—and some honest conversations with Ry, Veronica could admit she did desire a closer bond with a man lately.
Hadn’t she responded to Ry’s last remark with flirtatious zeal this morning, pushing aside her first reaction to ignore his rather personal remark? He’d left her flattered, she’d said, and further admitted how his opinion mattered a great deal to her.
“Maybe you’re right, Meg. It couldn’t hurt to try a little harder with Jim.”
What did she have to lose? At least this would put her in the driver’s seat of her life for once, not coasting on autopilot as she’d done for too many years.
Chapter 5
“Okay, babe. See you at seven.” Trent tossed the cell phone on the bed. This conversation with Angie left him swamped with doubt over having invited her to Sophie’s birthday party. Family. Close friends. Was this the message he wanted to send to her about their relationship? Yet a tug toward the familiar made him ask her, and she’d readily accepted.
He went into the bathroom, shedding his boxer-briefs and stepping directly into the running shower.
The steamy liquid soothed the ache of his sore muscles. Since seven this morning, he’d worked with Jay around the farm. At this rate, he could quit the gym. Despite the ache all the way to his bones, his spirits were lifted, the work here giving him a sense of belonging.
When finished, he toweled himself dry, wrapped the cloth around his waist, and tidied the day’s shadow on his cheeks, now slightly tanned from being outdoors.
The cast of characters at Sophie’s birthday party would be a mix of worlds colliding. Besides the locals from Northbridge, his brother had invited a few close friends from RGI and, of course, their parents and uncle.
Trent didn’t want to see his father, not after what happened between them seven months ago, which strained their relationship further. To the outside world, Frank Jamieson was a well-known partner and founder of a premier law firm in the US and abroad. To Trent, he was the father who’d ignored him during childhood, the lion’s share of his attention devoted to work. Whenever fate brought them together lately, Trent longed for the days when getting high or drunk eased the discomfort the two had always shared.
Yet tonight, he’d cling to the knowledge that having a clear head would let him enjoy everything else life offered. Truly be in control of his actions. Far better than the way he used to live.
He’d focus on the other guests, only talk to his dad when necessary. After tossing on a pair of black slacks and a white dress shirt, he reached into the wardrobe cabinet for a tie, but instead grabbed a linen gray sports jacket.
He went into the kitchen and made a cup of coffee to help him wake up. Taking a seat at the peninsula stool, he logged into his e-mail account. On top sat an e-mail from Etta. He’d been so relieved yesterday when he got her response, thankful his forward remark hadn’t done any damage.
He opened it.
To: Ry@eclecticexpressions.com
From: Musetta@yahoo.com
Subject: Self-help books
Do you ever read self-help books? As a rule, I don’t, but I came across one called Unleash the Past. I checked it out from the library and now can’t put it down!
Usually, this genre annoys me. An industry, trying to make a buck off people’s suffering. As I read this one, though, I find myself wanting my life to be different. It’s powerfully written and engages the reader.
And for once, I feel motivated to deal with my past. Only here’s where I stumble… Telling people close to me still seems far too risky. What if I can’t face things after I open my mouth? There’ll be no escape from their questions.
But then I figured this… If I told one person about my plan to move my life forward, it could force me to stay strong with this new outlook. Don’t you think?
That said, I will admit to you—and no one else—how my past has held me hostage for a very long time. Going forward, I’ll attempt to keep an open mind to living my life without the barriers tossed up decades ago. Well, easier to get off my chest than I’d thought. Guess what? I feel a sense of relief.
Can I consider you my unofficial “face the past” trainer? You could gently guide me through this, not let me off the hook too easily if I try to let it go?
Am I crazy to let a book make me feel more positive and hopeful? I mean, it’s just a book, but… Right now it feels like so much more.
Have a relaxing weekend.
Etta
His spirit lifted at the idea she’d share this with him—only him. Nobody in his entire life ever considered him a confidant, but her belief in him made him feel taller and stronger, basking in a real sense of pride. He hit reply.
To: Musetta@yahoo.com
From: Ry@eclecticexpressions.com
Subject: Self-help books
I’m about to run out, so will comment on self-help books later. About your new attitude, though, it already shines—at least from what I’m reading. Whatever it is you are going for, reach for the brass ring, and I’m positive it’ll make a difference in your life. Remember this: I’ll catch you if you slip. Consider me your new personal trainer. More to follow…
Ry
A few minutes later, he followed the road around the lake. His thoughts drifted to Angie. Enjoyable enough, certainly sexy, but lacking in something he couldn’t define. The details about her turned slowly in his mind as he drove. Just as he passed the public beach, a sudden realization hit; conversations with Etta carried a natural comfort, as if they’d been friends for a lifetime. Angie and he didn’t share many interests—at least out of the bedroom. Sure, they conversed, but sparks never flared.
Some days he wondered if he should ask Etta where she lived, or if they might meet. Before the idea could take hold, he pushed it from his mind. The risk of losing their friendship by pushing those boundaries was far too great.
* * * *
Veronica slipped the cobalt blue, sleeveless dress over her head, pulled up the side zipper, and stepped into stiletto sandals. She turned a complete circle in front of her full-length mirror while Boomer watched her from his seat on the area rug near her bed.
“What do you think, Boom-boom?”
His ears lifted at the same time his tail swished back and forth on the floor.
“I’ll take that as a thumbs-up.”
She smoothed out the silky fabric of her dress with a brush of her palm. Meg would agree; this outfit amped-up the sex appeal. It hugged the curve of her hips, dipped in the space between her shoulder blades, and showcased her tanned shoulders. Tonight, she’d stir the pot and see how Jim reacted.
A nervous sensation roiled inside her, twisting and turning, reviving old worries. She’d downplayed sexy in her appearance for some time, always looking nice but never what she’d call provocative. Fear of attracting the wrong kind of man had driven her wardrobe, which in hindsight was a little silly. The violent act wasn’t about a woman’s clothing. And yet…