by Nancy Naigle
Jill stepped over the strewn items, checking each room. Books littered the floor, pictures hung crooked on the walls and plants had been knocked from their stands.
She was tempted to begin the daunting task of righting things but there’d be time for that tomorrow.
Exhausted, she went to Pearl’s bedroom. What used to be the contents of the tallboy dresser covered the floor. She bent down to lift a stack of still neatly folded housecoats. Pearl’s uniform. Jill laid the stack on the bed and smoothed the fabric with her hand.
A blue and white housecoat still hung from the bedpost. Jill held it to her face and inhaled the scent of coffee and spice. The wash-worn material was feathery soft, the tiny pearl snaps cool against her cheek. The sensations reminded her of carefree days under Pearl’s watchful eye.
Always safe.
Jill slipped out of her clothes and into the blue and white housecoat, then curled up with the stack of housecoats in the center of the bed. Too tired to climb beneath the bedcovers, she hugged the housecoats and squeezed her eyes tight. Her eyes burned and her nose tingled as memories flooded her heart and mind.
In one blurred moment she was seven years old, balancing on a wobbly stool in front of the kitchen counter, learning to make her first pie crust next to Pearl. She’d felt so grown up pushing the pastry cutter through the dough and stretching it out to size with the rolling pin. Despite the flour that covered her head to toe, that crust had turned out golden, light and crispy. She’d earned the right to the family’s secret recipe that afternoon.
She drifted asleep in a puddle of tears.
***
A loud rumble jarred Jill from sleep. She squinted against the morning sun that streaked across her face like a laser.
“What the…” Jill kicked out from the pile of housecoats and stumbled to the window. One tug sent the old shade whirling to the top of the window frame. With her hands pressed to the warm glass, she looked for the source of the interruption.
The roar assaulted her ears, but the sight of the man pushing a lawnmower pounded her gut like a sucker punch. Low-slung denim hugged a pair of trim hips. He moved away from her at a steady gait, sending grass spitting to the right in a trail of fresh clippings. Broad tan shoulders had found a maturity she hadn’t noticed before, but there was no mistaking—the man was Garrett.
Jill moaned and yanked the shade down to the sill. She turned her back on the window and scanned her grandmother’s bedroom for a clock. Of course, there wasn’t one. Pearl had always run on her own schedule. That had been one of the biggest adjustments for Jill when she’d left Adams Grove. Bradley was almost OCD about schedule, and she’d learned to follow suit.
She stuffed her feet into Pearl’s raggedy pink slippers and stomped out to the living room to check the time on her cell phone.
“Seven-thirty?” She activated the sound from where she’d muted it last night, then considered her options. Plan A, ignore him, or Plan B, go out and give Garrett Malloy a piece of her mind.
He knows I’m here. Who else would park a car with a Georgia plate in front of this house?
She rubbed the sleep out of the corners of her eyes, scrubbed her fingers through her hair and stormed out onto the front porch.
The screen door slammed behind her, but Garrett didn’t flinch.
She crossed her arms and rocked her weight to one hip, waiting and getting angrier by the second. Her mouth twitched with each stride he took.
When he finally spun the mower around, he spotted her and waved.
“Mornin’,” he shouted, lifting his chin in her direction.
“What is wrong with you?” She marched toward him.
He let go of the lever on the mower. The motor choked to a stop. “Couldn’t hear you over the mower. Good morning,” he said with an easy smile. “How are you holding up?”
She gritted her teeth. Where did he get off being so chipper at the crack of dawn? And what possessed him to do it in her front yard? Okay, technically, it was Pearl’s yard, but it would be hers. She was the only heir left in the family.
“I’m not, and you being here isn’t helping. What do you think you’re doing?”
“Mowing the lawn,” he answered in a sarcastic tone.
“Real funny.” She set her chin in a stubborn line. “I can see you’re mowing the lawn. I’m not an idiot. I just don’t know why you are mowing this lawn this morning?”
“I mow this lawn every Friday.”
“No one asked you to do that,” Jill said.
“Pearl didn’t have to ask. I offered. I’d do a few chores for her, and she’d cook supper for me in return. I called it even. Pearl called it Friday date night.”
“Bet that cramped your style.”
“Not at all. I liked helping Pearl, and she enjoyed my company.” His voice softened. “I’ll miss that.”
He knew exactly how to get under her skin. That’s why she’d made all her visits to see Pearl quick one-nighters—so she could avoid him.
“We’ll all miss her.” She strode toward the porch, but he was right on her heels. “Well, there are no free meals here anymore, and I’m not your Friday night date.”
“Look. I’m just trying to help here. Can we call a truce? If not for us, then for Pearl?” He stepped in closer. “I’ll miss her, too, you know.”
“I know,” she whispered. There it was again. The crushing black pain made it nearly impossible to breathe or swallow. Losing Pearl seemed worse than losing her parents, but then she’d been so young when they’d died, and they’d spent so much time away. This was different. She kicked her toe in and out of the pink slipper, wishing she could disappear, or revert to Plan A.
“Come on, Jill.”
She closed her eyes and cocked her head to one side. It was just like him to play the Pearl card. He knew her too well.
“I’m sorry.” Garrett touched her sleeve. “It’s good to see you. It’s been a while. You look...good.”
She flinched at his touch. “Oh yeah, right. In Pearl’s housecoat? I’m a regular hotty.”
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”
“Stop it.” She huffed and rolled her eyes, avoiding his. “Quit acting like nothing ever happened.”
“Can’t help it. How about one of those sweet treats?” Garrett raised his eyebrows in a flirty way.
“Excuse me?” Jill took a step back, eager to put a little space between them.
“I bet you have a coffee candy in the pocket there.” He pointed to the blue smock with a knowing look.
She dug into the deep pocket. Sure enough, there were two pieces. She extended her open hand toward him. “And just how often were you visiting Pearl in her housecoat while I’ve been away?”
He waved his hands in denial. “Oh no. I never wore any of those housecoats.”
“Real funny. You know what I meant. Wait, maybe I don’t want to know.”
“Often enough.” He snagged one of the coffee drops from her outstretched hand and untwisted the wrapper. “I know a good thing when I see it.” He popped the candy in his mouth.
“Really?”
“I picked you, didn’t I?” He moved to the first step, face-to-face with her as she stood two higher on the porch.
“You threw me away,” she reminded him, drawing in a deep breath.
“No. You were the one that walked,” he said.
She glared at him. “That’s not exactly how it was.”
“However it happened, it’s in the past. Let’s leave it there,” he muttered, shoving the candy wrapper in his pocket. “How’ve you been?”
“Great.” She straightened. Don’t let him fluster you. “Perfect, in fact.”
“So the job is all you thought it would be?”
She eyed him curiously. “It’s a great cause and we’ve been extremely successful in raising funds to expand the program.”
He looked skeptical. “Sounds like a company line.”
“Whatever. You don’t care.”
/> “I care about you.” He shrugged. “But I guess you’re happy with the choices you made.”
“So it seems. How are you?”
“I’m good. Not as good as you, but good.” Garrett pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed her a business card.
She read it aloud. “Malloy Country Design and Builders. Make Your Dream Come True.” She traced her thumb across the raised letters. Her eyes met his. “You made it happen,” she said. Without me. “Pearl didn’t tell me.”
“Just like we’d planned. You and me.” His eyes locked on hers. “Dad stepped down over the holidays.”
It was the first thing she’d noticed about the card. No more Malloy & Sons, like Garrett had waited for, counted on. She’d thought Mr. Malloy would insist on that partnership until the day he died.
Nervous excitement rushed through her, or maybe it was jealousy. It wasn’t just like they’d planned. They’d planned a whole future together. They’d had so many dreams. All of them built around sustaining the lifestyle and agriculture of their small town, and being a couple.
“It’s been hard work.”
“Anything worth doing is,” Jill said with quiet emphasis.
“You sound just like Pearl.”
Tears welled, stinging her already tender eyes. For the first time in over a year, she took a good look at the house in the daylight. A fresh coat of paint in a historic shade of sage green gave the house she grew up in a completely different look than the muddy white it used to be. Manicured shrubs provided a rich green backdrop for clumps of bright Gerber daisies that danced like the Rockettes in the light summer breeze, reflecting bright yellow, orange and red against the long country porch. Amazing what a little paint and early summer blooms can do for a place.
“I can’t believe she’s gone.” Jill’s bottom lip trembled. “Are you the reason this place looks so good?”
“Right now, you’re why it looks so good.”
“Stop it.” She rigidly held her tears in check. “Just leave. I’m tired. I’m sad. Devastated. I can’t...”
Garrett pulled her into his arms. “I know.”
She sobbed into his shoulder. Feeling lost. Alone.
He held her. His touch soothing the raw pain as he stroked her back and held her close.
Garrett pressed his lips to her forehead.
She looked up and his mouth moved to hers.
His lips touched her like a whisper. For a moment, there was nothing else but that kiss.
Then the butterflies in her gut turned on her. Their colorful wings dimmed to shades of gray and the familiar excitement turned to panic.
She pulled back and shoved him away.
Garrett went airborne off the step and into the flowerbed, landing on his butt with a thud.
“What?” She sucked in a breath trying to recover. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m...I....” Garrett gasped. “What the...” He tried to catch the breath that his diaphragm just squeezed out like a dirty sponge. He looked up at Jill and studied her. She responded. I felt it. All the warmth of a year ago.
“I’m...I....” He sat in the middle of the flowerbed trying to focus on her and not the kiss.
She dragged the back of her forearm across her lips.
Garrett cringed. I know that look. That’s not good.
“You need to leave. I don’t want you here.” Jill’s voice trembled.
She’s pissed. Why’d I do that?
“Bad timing. I’m sorry.” He shook his leg, checking to be sure he hadn’t broken anything in the fall. “Look, I know you’re hurting, but you’re not the only one who cared about Pearl. And you. I still care about you, too. I’m trying to help.”
Her expression didn’t soften any.
“Don’t. I’m her family.” Jill avoided his stare.
I blew it. Again. Why can’t I catch a break here? “No one has seen you for nearly a year. You were in and out, visiting Pearl in stealth mode. Too good for us now?”
“I was here to see Pearl. I’ve been busy. I didn’t have time to hang around.”
He brushed cut grass from the top of his shoe. “No one’s that busy,” he muttered half under his breath.
“Just leave.”
He sat there stunned, wondering how he’d ever make progress with her at this rate.
“You were the one that ruined everything.” Her lips held a tight line. “You betrayed me.”
“I never did anything to betray you, and I never lied to you. Bradley Kase brainwashed you into believing that line of bull.” The old argument made his stomach churn.
“Bradley had nothing to do with my decision. Why would he? He had nothing to gain.”
“Don’t be a fool. He had everything to gain. He got you, didn’t he?” Garrett’s jaw pulsed. “If you’re so happy, then why are you still so upset with me?” Looking up from the flowerbed, he watched for a reaction.
“Whatever,” Jill said and looked off toward the trees. “I can’t argue with you. I’m tired. I didn’t even get four hours of sleep.”
She couldn’t have missed the old spark in that kiss. “Admit it. You’ve missed me,” he said. “At least a little.”
“I have not!” She shook her hair away from her face. “You are an arrogant...jerk face...jerk.”
“Got it. I’m a jerk. I’m annoying, and you don’t want my help.” Garrett lifted himself out of the flowerbed and brushed the mulch from his jeans. “I have to finish the lawn. Pleasure talking to you.” He righted a tousled daisy with the tip of his shoe and headed back to the mower.
“I’ll finish the lawn,” she yelled after him.
“No. You won’t. It’s going to be over ninety degrees today. You don’t have any business out here pushing a mower in this humidity.”
“Afraid I’m so sweet I’ll melt?”
“No. But I know you, and you’ll be burnt slam up.”
“There you go again, trying to tell me what I can and can’t do.” Jill lifted her hair off her neck. Tendrils stuck to her neck.
“Like it would matter.” He pulled the starter on the mower and revved the throttle. Without having to look he knew she was heading his way.
“You can’t make decisions around here,” she shouted. “Please. Just leave.”
Garrett ignored the tantrum and started mowing again.
“I hate you!”
Garrett spun around. Jill stood in the middle of the yard with both fists clenched at her sides like she was about to snap.
He turned back, released the mower handle and threw both hands in the air. Standing there for a long moment, he shook his head and pushed the lawnmower toward his truck.
Why do I try so hard? I’ve really screwed it up this time. I’ll never get her back without your help, Pearl.
He heaved the mower into the back of the big four-wheel drive GMC truck in one motion, slammed the tailgate and hopped in the cab, spinning dirt as he wheeled down the lane.
Chapter Four
Jill touched her mouth where Garrett had landed the unexpected kiss. Why did he still get under her skin?
“Good riddance,” she murmured, but an unexpected guilt nagged at her.
She went back inside and started a pot of coffee. If she was going to make it through the day on no sleep, she’d need the caffeine. Once the coffee began to drip, Jill went to get dressed.
With a fresh cup of coffee in hand, she sat at the kitchen table and dialed Aunt Milly.
“How are you, dear?” Aunt Milly asked.
“Sad.”
“Oh honey, I know. I just talked to them down at the funeral home. You know Pearl didn’t want nobody staring at her all dead and gray, but I thought you might want to spend a little time with her. They said you could see her after two o’clock.”
Jill tensed at the thought of seeing Pearl that way—lifeless.
Milly rambled through the list of tasks. “And she’d already written her own obituary, so I dropped that off at the paper. She h
ad everything in that envelope she’d given me. Songs to be sung at the church, and even the instructions to call Carolanne for you. So, I can’t really take that credit.”
“Thank you. I guess there’s not much for me to do.” That left her feeling more sad and helpless.
She sipped her coffee and fidgeted with the corner of one of the yarn lap-weave placemats on the kitchen table. She and Pearl had made them for the annual Christmas bazaar a few years ago.
“Everything’s under control. Anything I can do for you?” Aunt Milly asked.
“No. I still can’t believe it.”
“Well, you run over and visit with her this afternoon. You can check in with me tonight. Love you, sweetie.” Aunt Milly made a kiss sound and hung up.
Jill stacked the placemats in a pile in front of her and leaned forward, resting her cheek on the soft yarn. The back of her throat tightened.
Pearl would hate for her to be such a prisoner to this sadness.
I have to fight this. Think good thoughts. Happy memories. But the mantra wasn’t powerful enough to push the gray from her day.
She had to focus on something else. Nose stuffed up, lips swollen, and eyes feeling puffy, she headed to the bathroom to wash her face. As she passed the telephone table in the hallway, Pearl’s old metal flip-top telephone index caught her eye. She slid the tarnished selector to M to get the number for Markham’s Lawn Service and dialed them. Someone answered on the first ring.
“Macy’s Limo Service.”
Jill straightened. “Macy? Macy Markham?”
A hearty chuckle came across the line. “Right gal. Wrong last name.”
“Did I misdial? I meant to get your dad. It’s Jill Clemmons.”
“Hey, girl. You got the number right. I took over his store front.”
Macy had graduated a year ahead of Jill, then started her cosmetic and makeover business. That girl had the Midas touch when it came to business. Every girl in town glopped on the goods to be more like Macy, the coolest chick in town. It wasn’t long after that Macy met and married a mortician and put her makeup skills to work on the dead.
Jill pushed her hair behind her ear. “When did you get back in town? Last I’d heard you were down in Carolina somewhere.”
