This would be the perfect opportunity to elicit a confession about his conversation with Candace. “Oh, I suppose you could talk to…people. I presume you have your cell phone handy.”
With one hand, he lifted a corner of his pillow to reveal his phone, then shook his head. “As you can imagine, it’s been ringing off the hook all day.”
“Yes, you’re so popular, it’s almost scary.”
He dipped his spoon into his chowder, swishing the contents around and grinning as best as his swollen lips would let him. “Ridiculous, isn’t it? Let’s see, there was my mom—she called me three times—my pastor, my foreman, another guy who works for me, and Diane, my office assistant.” He shook his head. “I’m telling you, I couldn’t even get the rest I needed.”
She gave a halfhearted laugh and pulled a piece of lint off her holey jeans. How smart of him not to mention his most recent caller. “Well, I’m going to go get a towel to mop up this spill, and then I’ll go tidy the kitchen,” she said, standing up.
“But we didn’t even talk, and all you’ve been doing is cleaning. You’re going to leave me to eat the rest of my supper alone?”
“I’m sure you’ll survive just fine. Besides, you have your home and garden channel.” She left him to stare at her back when she went to his bathroom.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked when she returned with the towel.
“Why would you think that?” She bent and mopped up the puddle with one sweep.
“Uh, the cold shoulder was the first clue.”
“Maybe I’m tired.” Until he came clean about Candace, she had no intention of making small talk.
Chapter 29
Things went down a slippery slope after supper. Something definitely had Rachel’s dander up; however, she failed to shed any light on what it was. So, he finally came right out and asked her what had her so miffed.
“Nothing,” she replied. Translation: You ought to be able to figure it out, dodo.
He didn’t think she’d overheard him talking to Candace, as he’d been careful to keep his voice down. Besides, she’d been downstairs getting his supper ready, hadn’t she? On the chance that she didn’t feel appreciated, he made sure to tell her how grateful he was for her help, even told her she could feel free to leave if she wanted to, which is precisely what she did right after cleaning up the kitchen.
“Are you coming back tomorrow?” he asked before she left.
“Should I?”
“If you want to.”
“Argh,” she spat back, giving her foot a little stomp.
“What? Did I not answer that in the way you wanted? I don’t want you to feel obligated. Why exactly did you come, anyway?”
“I wanted to help, all right? It’s time I did something for you.”
“So, you did feel obligated. Nice goodwill gesture, Rach, paying me back for all the times I looked in on you. But I didn’t do it for the payback.”
She narrowed her eyes into shimmery, blue slits and stared at him. “Who sounds mad now? I suppose you wish someone else had come in my place. And I’m not talking about your mother.”
“What? Rachel, for crying out loud! You’re not making any sense!”
“And you are?”
Nothing he said came off sounding right to her, and nothing she said in response satisfied him, so they wound up in a quarreling match of sorts. After she’d left, he was tempted to call her on her drive back to Fairmount, but then his pride stepped in. What was a man to do? Of course, he wanted her to come back, but not if she did so out of a sense of indebtedness. Did she have any feelings for him, or were her affections purely platonic? He’d gone out on a limb by expressing his love some time ago. Wasn’t it her turn to express the same—if, indeed, she felt anything beyond a brother-sister bond? How many times did he have to tell her that the ball was in her court?
All day, he hadn’t ventured further than the bathroom adjoined to his bedroom; he’d felt weak-kneed, achy, and woozy from the pain meds. He’d tried to resist taking anything stronger than over-the-counter medication, but when his pain had reached a level he couldn’t ignore, he’d had to pop a pain pill. Now, at ten o’clock, he was feeling better, almost human, so he pulled back the blankets and sat up, moving slowly so as not to throw off his equilibrium. He got up and walked at a turtle’s pace to the door to look down at the living room.
As he did, he got the surprise of his life. Not only did his condo look as neat as a freshly starched shirt, but Rachel had rearranged the furniture. Okay, so he didn’t love the new look—he never had been one for major changes—but he did enjoy the smells of polished furniture and scrubbed floors. Even if he practiced for the next five years, he would never master housework at this level. His idea of cleaning was getting rid of clutter, not hauling out all the household products that eliminated grit and grime and made for a sparkling finish. Why, even the fireplace screen glimmered. He decided to venture downstairs for a look at the rest of the house.
The laundry room held the lingering scent of soap, and two stacks of clean, folded clothes lay on the washing machine. Even the tile floor showed no signs of the usual tracks he brought in from the garage, and his work boots, also appearing cleaner than usual, stood together in the corner, a significant departure from their customary positions five feet apart after Jason kicked them off.
In the kitchen, which gleamed and smelled of lemon, he poured himself a glass of orange juice and gulped it down at the sink, then set the glass on the counter and turned to walk away. But then, as if Rachel herself had caught him in the lazy act, he abruptly stopped, retrieved the glass, and wedged it in the top rack of the dishwasher.
Exhausted already, he shuffled back upstairs. Time to swallow his manly pride and call Rachel; forget whose court held the proverbial ball.
She didn’t answer, so he left a message. “Rachel, I’m sorry we fought. I do want you to come back in the morning. By the way, my condo looks great, and I like the way you arranged the living room. But how in the world did a little thing like you move that huge sofa? I guess you’re a lot stronger than I figured you to be.” Stop rambling, he ordered himself. “Anyway, if you get this message, just know that I—well—oh, never mind, I’ll talk to you in the morning. That is, if you decide to come back.”
***
It wasn’t the most convincing apology Rachel had ever heard, but she decided she’d take it, even though he’d still omitted any mention of Candace. She hadn’t listened to the message until the next morning, so, after getting the kids up and dressed, she hauled them off to Grandma Evans’s place and then headed down the highway to Harrietta, praying about and planning her strategy for putting her feelings out on the table.
***
Jason lay in bed till 9 a.m., sipping coffee he’d made earlier and watching mindless TV shows. He was alarmed to discover how much he enjoyed the home and garden channel. After about half an hour, he switched the thing off and padded to the bathroom to examine his face. Bummer, he thought as he leaned into the mirror. He looked like a poster child for domestic abuse with his eyes still black and the scrape across the whole side of his face still red and raw-looking. On the positive side, he felt stronger and not as achy all over, his ribs weren’t as sore, and he hadn’t awakened in the middle of the night in desperate need of a painkiller. Shoot, he could probably even manage fine today without assistance, but he hoped like crazy Rachel would still come. He realized he might have to feign weakness for a couple of days just to wheedle the attention out of her. Of course, first, he’d have to figure out what had gotten her so peeved the previous night.
Later, scrounging around in the kitchen for something to satisfy his rumbling stomach, he settled on a bagel with cream cheese. This he scarfed down in a few famished bites, then poured himself a second cup of coffee and stood at the counter, gazing out the window as he sipped it. Just as he took a seat at the table, he heard a car door slam shut. His heart jumped. Rachel! He hobbled to the front door and opened it wide,
only to have his soaring heart fall straight to the ground in a heap.
“Candace, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, my gosh, Jason, look at you! You look terrible!” She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek—the less bruised one—then waltzed right past him into the condo, the stiletto heels of her knee-high boots clicking on the hardwood, her short, black skirt and the fitted leather jacket over her yellow cashmere sweater accentuating every curve. She always had been a looker, but nothing about her appearance appealed to him today. It didn’t help that her showing up unannounced galled him plenty.
She eased out of her coat and draped it over the back of a chair, gave her flowing, dark hair a gentle toss, then surveyed the room. “You’ve rearranged your furniture. I like it. The other way wasn’t exactly conducive to watching your TV or even conversing. This is much nicer.”
“Thanks.” Suddenly weak, he set his coffee on a side table and dropped into the sofa. Unfortunately, she chose to place herself right next to him. “You haven’t told me why you’re here, Candace. I don’t recall inviting you.” He set his hands on his knees and sat stiffly, trying to suppress his anger.
Her lower lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout. “Is that any way to talk to your former sweetheart? I only wanted to check up on you. Can I make you some breakfast? Pour you some juice?” When had she ever lifted a hand for him in the kitchen?
“No, thanks. I’m fine.” No way was he about to offer her coffee, even though he had a steaming pot full of it. “Candace, I really don’t think it’s a good idea for—”
“Does it hurt bad?” she asked, cutting him off and moving a fraction closer before reaching up to touch his cheek. He winced and pulled away out of pain as much as in an attempt to discourage her closeness. She had a streak of determination a mile long; he’d give her that much. “I’m so sorry about your accident,” she crooned. “Last night after you told me about it, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Really.”
“Yes. I tried to imagine life without you, Jason. It was awful.”
“You’ve had plenty of time to get used to that, Candace. We broke up before Christmas, remember?”
She suddenly snagged his hand between both of hers and squeezed tight, her eyes pooling with tears. She never had been one to show much emotion, and whenever she did, he questioned her sincerity. “And I’ve been miserable ever since, Jason. Please tell me you have, as well.” But when he opened his mouth to deny it, she hurried ahead. “I think you should know, I never got over you. Oh, I’ve dated other men, but none of them compared to you.” She inched closer still. “We had good times, didn’t we, Jason?”
“We did,” he admitted, “but those were before—”
“What if we just started over?” she asked, sounding frantic and out of breath. “I know I could make you happy this time. Couldn’t you give us a second chance? Like I said before, I’m getting downright skilled in the kitchen, and I’m even going to church.”
He hated the groveling and felt almost sorry for her. “Going to church is a good thing, Candace, as long as it’s a biblically based church and you’re going with the right motives. But you should know it’s too late for us, regardless of anything you do.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Jason. It’s never too late.” Before he had time to react, she reached her hands behind his neck and drew him down to her, planting a hard, wet, unforgiving kiss on his lips.
***
Upon pulling into the parking lot in front of Jason’s condo, Rachel parked next to a red Toyota Camry and cut the engine. She was plagued by the nagging notion that she shouldn’t have come, but she pulled the keys from the ignition and dropped them in her purse, anyway. Then, she gathered up the gallon of milk and loaf of bread she’d purchased at the corner market, pulled her purse strap over her shoulder, and slid out of the van, closing the door with her hip. Curiosity made her peek inside the car parked beside hers. On the leather-upholstered front seat lay a yellow silk scarf, an empty water bottle, and several pieces of mail addressed to Candace Peterson. Her heart thudded hard against the wall of her chest, and she sucked in a deep breath for courage before trudging up the walkway.
Lord, give me strength, she prayed. If Jay has set me up for finding Candace and him together, please forgive me ahead of time for killing him.
She tried the knob and discovered it was unlocked, so she opened the door and stepped inside. What she saw made her stomach twist, her legs teeter, and her hand nearly drop the gallon of milk. Sitting on the sofa like two snug bugs were Jason and Candace, kissing, no less. Candace’s arms were wrapped around Jason’s neck, holding him close.
As soon as Jason spotted her with his less swollen eye, he pulled away from Candace. “Rachel!” he exclaimed, standing much faster than she’d thought him capable of doing and causing Candace to tumble backward.
“Rachel?” Candace asked in a stupefied tone, pulling herself up and pivoting on the sofa to stare wide-eyed at her. “Well, well, if it isn’t your lovely sister-in-law. What in the world brings her here? And, good gracious, how are you, Rachel?”
“I’m fine, but I—I see I’m interrupting.” She hated herself for the tears that sprang to her eyes.
“Indeed, you are,” Candace said.
“Actually, you’re not interrupting at all,” Jason said, his face an ashen gray but turning greener by the second. Then to his girlfriend, or whatever she was, he said, “Candace was just leaving, weren’t you, Candace?”
“I was?” She reclined again, this time stretching out her long, graceful arms across the back of the sofa as if preparing to watch a movie. With a Cheshire-cat grin, she said, “I thought we were just getting warmed up, Jase.”
“Don’t be absurd. That kiss was purely one-sided, and you know it.” To Rachel, he implored, “Come in.”
“No, I think I’ll go.” She swiveled on her heel and walked back outside, where the biting air sent chills from the top of her head clear to her toes.
She felt ridiculous still carrying the milk and bread under her arm, so she bent to place them on the doorstep. When she stood up again, Jason nabbed her by the arm and turned her around. “Don’t you even think about getting in your car,” he said firmly.
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Okay, let me rephrase that.” He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “Rachel, please come back in the house.” She gazed past him to see that Candace hadn’t moved so much as a hair on her pretty head. If anything, she’d settled in more cozily on the couch.
“Three’s a crowd, Jay, or didn’t you know? And, by the way, I overheard you talking to Candace on the phone yesterday.” This she said just above a whisper. “I suppose you planned this entire event—Candace’s coming over this morning at precisely the time you might have expected me to arrive. Very clever.”
“What? No! I did not invite her, and as for the phone call, I purposely didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you getting the wrong idea. She called me, not the other way around.”
“Uh-huh. Right. You expect me to believe she came over here of her own accord?”
“I know it hardly seems plausible, but if you knew Candace, you’d understand. She’s very assertive, and…well, she still has high hopes for us, even though I’ve done nothing to encourage her.” He turned and looked in through the doorway. Candace still hadn’t moved, other than to hold out one manicured hand and inspect the state of her nail polish.
“You’re probably going to also tell me she forced you to kiss her.”
“That’s exactly what I’m going to tell you.” He gave a low chuckle. “I had my lips sealed up tighter than a jar of pickles.”
“That’s very funny, Jason,” she said drily, shaking her head. “You told me you loved me, remember? And I was beginning to come to terms with my own feelings for you, but now…this fiasco. What do you want me to think? Good grief, I saw the two of you kissing, tight-lipped or not. If you ask me, you two deserve each
other.” Blotting her damp eyes, she turned and hustled down the porch steps, intending to jump into her car and speed toward home. But Jason beat her to the car door, albeit out of breath and as pale as a summer cloud, save for his burnt-red cheek.
“Wait a minute. What did you just say?”
She huffed with impatience. “I said, you two deserve each other.”
“No, no, before that. The part about coming to terms with your feelings.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” she said as more tears pooled in the corners of her eyes.
He put a palm to the side of her face and gently lifted it. “Of course it matters, sweetheart. It matters a great deal.”
“Don’t call me that.” Her heart thumped past her chest, making it hard to swallow, much less breathe.
“What’s going on out there?” Candace asked from the doorway. “Does it usually take this long to tell your sister-in-law good-bye, Jason?”
Jason heaved a sigh and said, loudly enough for Ivy Bronson and her Pomeranian pup to hear, “Candace, get in your car and go home.”
“What?” she screeched.
“You heard me. Go. And don’t bother coming back; I’m having a conversation with the woman I love.”
“The woman you—what? Well, I never!” Her confounded expression aroused a tiny bit of sympathy in Rachel’s heart, but it quickly vanished as she watched the tall beauty nab her jacket and click down the hallway in her spiky heels, her mouth pursed in a tight frown that dulled her pretty face. She marched past them and over to her car, eyes on the sidewalk, then stopped before opening the door and peering up at them. “You and your sister-in-law, Jason? Honestly! Isn’t that a rather…um, inappropriate arrangement?”
He shrugged and tilted his battered face down at Rachel, grinning broadly. “Uncommon, maybe; inappropriate, no.” Then he turned to grant Candace one last look. “Sorry about everything,” he called to her. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Tender Vow Page 29
