"Are you okay?"
He stopped chopping. Looked at his twin. "Yes. Thanks. I'd just like to meet a nice woman and get married."
"Do you love her?"
"Shut up."
"Connor..."
"You know what? I can register on Match.com."
Her mouth dropped open. "How dare you! Fine. Be your normal constipated self. You want someone, the ground rules are, you have to do what I say."
"You know what? Forget it."
"No! I'll never forget it! And I'll do a good job, I promise. But you have to listen to me, all right?"
"You'll be serious, right? No freak shows."
"Of course!" she said so emphatically that he immediately distrusted her. "But love can be deceptive at first glance, dear boy, so if I tell you to ask someone out, you have to do it and trust your big sister."
"You're my little sister."
She sighed. "By three minutes, and yet so much wiser in the ways of the world. So that's my deal. Take it or leave it. Just remember that I have something like twenty couples to my credit. If you're tired of being pathetic and alone, you have to listen to me. Deal?"
"Deal."
It wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to be telling Colleen that Jess would be her sister-in-law, because Colleen really liked Jessica, always had. He wanted to tell his sister she'd be his best person, just as she'd predicted last fall at her own wedding.
But he wasn't going to spend his thirties the same way he'd spent most of his twenties, waiting for Jessica to let him off the sidelines and into her life.
He had a little pride, after all.
Colleen was still staring at him, her eyebrows puckered. Luckily for Connor, the kitchen door swung open.
"Hola, mia." Colleen's husband came into the kitchen and kissed her. Connor winced.
"Not in my kitchen," he said. "I'm holding a big knife, Lucas, and you did knock my sister up."
"True, true." He kissed Colleen again then put his hand on her stomach.
"Connor wants to get married," Colleen told him.
"Marriage is great." Lucas smiled and kissed Colleen again.
"Stop it! Jesus. Get out of my kitchen, both of you."
Colleen paused at the swinging doors. "I'll find you someone great, Con," she said in a rare moment of sincerity.
He nodded. This would be good. Almost like an arranged marriage. No work required on his part, just show up and smile.
Jess didn't want him, and that was fine.
His knife slipped, slicing into the tip of his thumb, and a thin red line of blood appeared.
CHAPTER TEN
BY THE TIME Jess got home after work, her head was pounding. And she had to go right back out, because the nice Hollands were wining and dining her.
Her and Marcy, that was.
Her first impression of her new coworker wasn't great. The voice, for one--it could cut glass. The self-praise, for two... To be honest, Jess envied people with that much self-confidence. She had no idea what it would be like to walk into a very cool job and have no worries that she could handle it, that her employers would like and appreciate her, that she wouldn't get fired. It had taken her months to relax at Blue Heron. Today she'd seen Marcy with her feet up on her desk, bellowing laughter into the phone.
All that being said, she had faith that Honor had hired someone competent.
"Davey, do you want to go to O'Rourke's for dinner tonight?" she asked.
"Can I have nachos and chili?" he asked. Somehow, he'd never really put two and two together and didn't realize that his archenemy owned the restaurant. He loved Colleen. All men did. Either he didn't realize Connor worked in the kitchen, or it was an out of sight, out of mind thing. Jessica wasn't about to ask.
"Sure," she said. "There'll be a bunch of us. The Hollands are taking me out. I got a promotion today." And a raise. A significant raise. The thought still made her flush.
"What's a promotion?"
"It means I have my own office," she said, swallowing some ibuprofen. "You can come see it this weekend, okay?"
"Okay. So a promotion is good?"
"Very good. It's your boss saying you're doing a great job, so now you can do other stuff, too."
"Will I get a promotion? I do a great job."
"You probably will, then." Jess would have to ask Petra, the manager at Keuka Candle, to give Davey--and all the special-needs workers--a certificate or a sleeve of stickers. The company was great that way.
"I need another picture of you," she said, smoothing back his blond hair. "I have to decorate my office a little bit." Not with a ficus tree and a couch, but with something.
"I can decorate your office!" he said. "Wait right here!" He ran up the stairs.
"Put on a clean shirt!" she called. Thumping noises came from his room, then he pummeled down the stairs--honestly, it always sounded like he was falling.
"Ta-da!" he said, beaming, and he was so stinkin' cute with that smile and those lashes. He held up his offerings: one of his Beanie Baby stuffed animals. Prickles the Hedgehog, and a candle. "This is for your new office," he said. "A decoration. And a candle, so it will smell nice." He got defective candles free.
"Oh, Davey, thank you! Is this Vanilla Sugar Cookie? My favorite!" She hugged her brother and kissed his forehead, then smiled at his sweet face. "Hey, guess what? You know Ned Vanderbeek, right?"
"He's my best friend," Davey said. He had a lot of best friends.
"Well, he was wondering if he could stay with us for a while. In the spare bedroom."
"Where the boxes are?"
"Yes. What do you think? Would that be okay with you?"
"Does he have a bed?" Davey asked.
"I bet he does."
"Then sure! I love Ned! We can watch movies together!"
"Great. We can tell him at dinner. Come on, honey-boy. I'm starving."
*
THE HOLLANDS COMMANDED not just a table, but an entire section of the restaurant. Davey and Jess got there last. Davey had wanted to take his Flip the Cat Beanie Baby, which, after an extensive search, turned out to be buried under his beloved Wonder Woman comic books.
Marcy had gone in a few steps ahead of them. She hadn't held the door, either. She was just now being assisted out of a very gorgeous and expensive-looking brown leather coat by Jeremy Lyon, who had the manners of a prince.
"Hi, Jeremy!" Davey said, waving Flip at him. Jeremy was Davey's doctor. Jess's, too, not that she went too often.
"How are you, Davey?" Jeremy asked. "Hi, Jess."
"He's incredibly hot," Marcy murmured to Jess.
"Gay."
"Of course."
She caught a glimpse of Connor through the pass-through window in the kitchen. He didn't see her.
Good. She guessed that was good, even if it felt like she'd swallowed a stick.
"Our guests of honor are here," Honor said, standing up. "Let me make the introductions, Marcy. I know you've met some of us, but I'll just go through the list. My grandparents, Goggy and Pops, rarely known as John and Elizabeth Holland. My dad, another John, and my stepmother, Mrs. Johnson, sometimes called Mrs. Holland, but mostly Mrs. Johnson. You've met my brother Jack, and that's his wife, Emmaline, who works with Levi there, the chief of police, and Levi is married to my sister Faith, and that little butterball on her lap is my beautiful nephew, Noah. And you met Tom already, and this is our son, Charlie."
Jess winked at Charlie. She had a soft spot for the kid, who'd recently gone from miserable teenager, something Jess well understood, to pretty nice person.
"Next to Charlie is my niece, Abby," Honor continued, "who's home from college and seeking gainful employment for the summer. And where's Pru? Oh, there she is. You met her this morning, right? And that's Carl, Pru's husband. Guys, meet Marcy Hannigan."
"Excellent to meet everyone!" Marcy said. Her voice carried easily over the crowd.
"Sorry to overload you, Marcy," Honor said. "A necessary evil, introductions. And guys, I think
you all know our new director of marketing and her charming brother." This brought a round of applause from everyone, and Jess felt her cheeks heat up with pride and embarrassment.
"Over here, Davey, my boy," Ned said, though he was younger than Davey. "I saved you a seat."
"'I am fire! I am death!'" Davey said gleefully. Davey had something of a savant-like memory when it came to movies, and The Hobbit trilogy was getting a lot of play these days.
"'There you are, Thief in the Shadows,'" Ned returned, also a Hobbit geek. "How's it going, bud?"
"You're living with us!"
"I am? That's great! Thanks, guys."
Jess moved down the table, saying hi to everyone in turn, to where two empty seats sat at the end, for her and Marcy. Marcy was still working the crowd, shaking hands and laughing. Though Jess loved the Hollands, these events always made her a little sweaty. Luckily, there was an ally who might understand.
"Hey, Levi," she said. "Hi there, tiny Levi." Noah Cooper, who was two months old and change, was already the image of his father, sleepy eyes and crinkly forehead. "How's it going, Faith?"
"Hi, Jess! Congratulations on your promotion," Faith said, smiling. Jess always felt a small flash of shame where Faith was concerned; she'd been pretty hard on her back in school days. Water under the bridge, largely thanks to Faith being incredibly nice.
"So this Marcy person," Faith said in a low voice. "Lots of energy."
And speaking of the energetic devil, she tapped a glass with a knife. "I just want to say hellooo, Team Holland! Thank you for taking me out! Fantastic to join all of you! I'm thrilled to be working with all of you and look forward to an amazing year!"
"Hear, hear," came the chorus.
Marcy maneuvered into the seat next to Jess. "Oh, a baby!" she said. "I love babies. Well, I should say, they love me! Some people have a way with kids, and it's not like I try, they just gravitate to me. Look at how he's smiling at me!" She glanced at Levi. "You must be the father, since he looks just like you."
"Levi Cooper," he said, shaking her hand. "Chief of Police."
"So if I get a speeding ticket, I should talk to you," Marcy said, laughing merrily.
"If you get a speeding ticket, I probably gave it to you," he said, not smiling. Good old Levi.
Hannah O'Rourke took their orders, no small feat with the elder Mrs. Holland unable to decide between the filet mignon and the sole almandine, asking for rice instead of potatoes and green beans instead of Brussels sprouts. Davey got chili and nachos; he ate like Homer Simpson, no matter that he was skinny as a pretzel stick.
Several bottles of Blue Heron wine were brought over, and Jack poured her a glass. As always, she'd drink some of it--and appreciate it; she had nothing against wine. But one glass and one glass only was her protection against the family history of alcoholism. Sometimes, Colleen would pour her a refill on the house, but Jess never drank it.
Speaking of Colleen, she came over, her stomach ripe with baby.
Strange, to think that if Jessica had said yes to Connor two nights ago, Colleen would be her future sister-in-law. The baby percolating in there would be her niece or nephew. Connor was thinking it was a girl. A little girl who'd call her Auntie Jess, who'd--
She cut that thought off at the pass.
Colleen was looking at her.
She knew. Oh, shit, she knew.
Then she smiled, right at Jess.
So maybe she didn't know.
"Hey, everyone!" Colleen said. "I hear congratulations are in order. Well done, Jess. Hi, there," she said to Marcy. "Colleen O'Rourke Campbell, half owner of this fine establishment."
"I love it! So homey! So cute! Very charming! I'm Marcy, the new event planner for the Barn! Totally thrilled to meet you!"
"Same here," Coll said, and Jess didn't miss the assessing look she gave Marcy. "Jess, do you know any experienced bartenders looking for a summer stint? I don't see myself yanking beers with a newborn in my arms."
"I'll ask around."
"Maybe Hugo knows someone?"
"I'm working tomorrow night. I'll ask." It dawned on her that with Ned moving in and her raise that she might not have to wait tables this summer. It would be the first time in seventeen years. She could come home, every night, and stay there. That one job would be enough.
The thought was staggering.
"You bartend?" Marcy asked.
Jess looked at her. "I can. I waited tables for a long time. Still do a few shifts a week."
Marcy's eyebrows raised.
Judgment had been passed.
There was no shame in working hard. Jessica knew this. She also knew some people were snobs and looked down their cute little noses at people who worked in the service industry.
"Do you cater?" Marcy asked, turning back to Colleen. "I'm putting together a list of area restaurants and caterers that I'll approve to make sure every event at the Barn at Blue Heron has a certain elan."
"I'll send our chef out to talk to you," Colleen said. "My brother, Connor. He runs the food end of the business."
Shit.
She'd have to get Davey to wash his hands or something. Maybe they could go throw stones in the lake for ten minutes or so. It would also give Jess a perfect reason to avoid him.
"Now, Levi, pass me my godchild!" Colleen said. "I've been standing here for a solid minute and I'm dying to smooch those cheeks! Right, Noah?" She gathered the baby into her arms and rested her cheek on his head. "Who loves you? Auntie Colleen does, that's who! Faith, if I have a girl, let's just do an arranged marriage, okay?"
"I thought that was a given," Faith said.
"You guys enjoy your dinner," Colleen said. "Nice to meet you, Marcy. I'm taking this baby with me. Come on, Noah, let's schmooze, honey." The baby burped.
Jess watched her go off to show Noah off to Gerard and Lorelei, who were dating, asking them if the baby wasn't the cutest thing in the wide world.
"Wow, she's stunning!" Marcy announced. "I always feel like a total hag around a beautiful woman, don't you?" she asked Jessica. "Faith, you're gorgeous, you can totally hold your own, but Jessie and I, we're like trolls where she's concerned, aren't we?"
Okay.
First of all, no one called her Jessie. It was Jessica or Jess.
And secondly, what did you say to that? You're right, Marcy, I'm a troll! or Are you kidding? You? You're so cute! She was fairly sure Marcy was waiting for the latter.
She said nothing.
"I don't think anyone would call either of you a troll," Faith said, saving the moment. "I always thought you could be a model, Jess."
Jessica could feel Marcy practically quivering as she waited for Faith to compliment her.
Faith took a bite of her nachos. Levi, always a man of few words, cocked an eyebrow at Jess, then gave his wife a sleepy smile and stroked the back of her neck.
"Where's my sword?" Davey asked. "Jess! I don't have a sword." His face was getting that pre-cry look.
"I'll get it, sweetie," she said.
Davey's drink--a Shirley Temple--had been served without the little plastic skewer. He collected them, and...well. Jess stood up, went to the bar and snagged one, went back to the table and popped the sword into her brother's drink. "There you go, hon."
"Thanks, Jess!" he said, grabbing her hand and giving it a loud kiss. Crisis averted. She ruffled his chick-down hair and went back to her seat.
Glanced at her watch surreptitiously.
She wished she liked these events more. It was just that she always felt a little...on guard. As if at any moment, one of the Holland clan was going to reminisce about the time when Keith Dunn ran into their mailbox, or when Jess's mother puked at the eighth-grade chorus concert.
The Hollands love you, she reminded herself. She took a sip of wine and forced a smile at Jack Holland, who gave her a wink and turned his attention back to Emmaline.
Couples, couples everywhere.
"What's wrong with your brother?" Marcy asked, and Jess's h
ead whipped around.
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, is that politically incorrect? I'm sorry, I just wondered. Was I not supposed to notice?"
Jess felt her heart turn to a fist of ice. Marcy smiled brightly and raised her eyebrows, waiting for an answer. The smile was as fake as they came.
"He's intellectually disabled." That was the newest--and kindest--label the medical community had given it. Sure beat a lot of ugly words kids had used growing up.
"What happened to him?"
Silence settled on their end of the table. Pru gave Jess a look and rolled her eyes. Levi and Faith were both listening, and both knew exactly what happened to Davey...everyone in Manningsport knew. But who the hell would ask so baldly? And why did Marcy think it was any of her business?
Jessica could feel her heartbeat in her stomach, a sure sign of rage. She raised an eyebrow, keeping her expression cool, and stared Marcy down.
A beat passed. Two. Three.
Marcy's smile slipped, and she gave a bark of laughter. "Oh, okay, I guess that subject's off-limits. So sorry. I just have one of those personalities. I'm naturally curious, that's all. People interest me. They fascinate me." She broke eye contact with Jess and beamed across at Levi and Faith. Neither smiled back, God bless them.
"Tell me about your promotion, Jess," Faith said. "Honor said you'd be doing more marketing."
Grateful for the change of subject, she turned to Faith and answered. The Barn was Faith's creation; Jess wondered how she liked Marcy, or if she'd had any say in hiring her. But those things weren't her business, and unlike Marcy, Jess was good at knowing when to keep her mouth shut.
After dinner had been served--and devoured--Ned and Davey went to the back to play pinball. The Hollands had rearranged themselves, changing seats so they could talk to everyone. Marcy had shaken off the gaffe from earlier (though Jess would bet she saw nothing wrong with what she said) and was talking--loudly, God, her voice was loud--about a celebrity wedding she'd handled. Unfortunately, Abby was fascinated, peppering her with questions.
Then Connor came over to the table.
Three days without seeing him, and she felt his presence like a rogue wave, unexpected and devastating.
Why was that? They'd broken up before. They'd fought before, sort of. He'd come around.
She missed him. Three days, and she missed him, and what was that all about?
"How's everyone doing?" he asked.
A chorus of compliments and assurances rose from the group. "You sure can cook, Connor," Pru said. "That rib eye was the best I ever had. I'm seriously thinking about gnawing on the bone."
Anything for You Page 13
