He loved her giving, tender heart. Propping a hip against the counter, he looked into her sparkling, beautiful blue eyes and went warm inside. “You bet. I wonder if she belongs to a church community that might help her out. If not, I’d be happy to pass along the name and number of my church’s pastor. He’s very keyed into the local organizations that lend assistance to people.”
He watched as Monica steeled her spine, though she kept her voice neutral and kind when she replied. “That’s really sweet. I’ll keep it in mind, but I hardly know her at this point. I only know her side of a messy child custody situation. And her desperation. She wants good things for her daughter. I so understand that need, and desire. I gave her information about the dance classes I teach at the Community Center, and she’s going to enroll her daughter, so that’ll help, I think. No innocent child of four years old should ever be—” She groaned.
Jeremy glimpsed her discomfort, her realization that, once again, she was being awfully emphatic.
“Look. Never mind me. Let’s give it a rest for now. I just want to relax, and enjoy being with you.” She looked up into his eyes and smiled—truly smiled.
That made Jeremy feel better, but he kept Pastor Ken Lucerne in the back of his mind. He’d raise the topic once again, at a less vulnerable moment, and re-take Monica’s temperature on the idea of connecting the two.
From there, meal creation continued. On the evening’s menu—shepherd’s pie. For the next half-hour or so, they danced around one another in the kitchen, and Jeremy enjoyed their natural, effortless timing. She stirred and stewed meat. He forked boiling potatoes to check for readiness. She sipped from her tea, then resettled the mug; feeling playful, he picked it up and tossed back a swallow of his own; he smiled when he set the mug back down and caught sight of her arched brow.
Reclaiming the mug, she met his gaze and took a calculated sip of her own. Jeremy watched, captivated. “Know what? Here’s the thing.”
“Oh, please don’t keep me waiting, JB. I’m all about ‘the thing.’” She offered a teasing grin, and oddly enough, it struck him that she even knew how to make a simple white apron look appealing. She wiped her hands on a nearby towel and continued to stir. Jeremy drained potatoes and used a mixer to mash them.
“Do you know what this is—what we’re doing here?”
“I guess I’d refer to it as dinner prep, with a side-order of tea commando.”
He laughed, from deep in his chest, genuine in his enjoyment of her. Of them. “The thing is this: you and me. Now don’t get freaked out or anything, but…” At that point, just to play torturer, Jeremy paused. He reclaimed her mug and lifted back a share. She waited, watching him. Whether she realized it or not, she was keenly interested. Aware. Intrigued.
Good.
“You officially owe me a refill.” He nodded. “Tonight feels excellent. It’s like you and I are a long-time couple. I like it. A lot.”
Monica drained the meat, added it to the vegetable mix and stirred it well. Jeremy topped the ensemble with the mashed potatoes then put the metal baking tin in the oven. In unison, they began to tear lettuce into bite-sized pieces, but not before Jeremy caught wind of another subtle shift in her teasing spark, their light-hearted play. He prepared her a second cup of tea, and he realized that something akin to uncertainty creased her brow.
Testing a tad, he added further punch to his statement. “Additionally? My family’s gonna go nuts for ya,’ Jellybean. You’re halfway there already, what with Dav and Collin already being fans.”
“Yeah. Eventually.” She cast him a quick, flirty glance, but it didn’t reach beneath the surface. It didn’t hit her eyes, or her heart. He recognized that fact immediately.
So, he sneaked up on her from behind and skimmed his arms around her waist, drawing her against him, snug and true. He nuzzled her neck and breathed deep—instantly assailed by the soft, tantalizing aroma of jasmine, lily, and Monica. She went lax, leaning against him. Her eyes fluttered closed.
“Actually, I want you to meet them. This weekend. Mom’s assembling the whole motley crew for dinner. I want you to be part of it, if you’re game.”
Her breathing went shallow. He saw her pulse dance at her throat. “Really?”
“Yes. Does that work for you?”
“Are you sure that would be for the best? Do you really think that you, that I…I mean…I’m positive your family is great, and I’m excited to meet them and everything, but…I…”
She was speed talking. Charmed by that nervous reaction, Jeremy gave her a final squeeze and stepped away. “I’m sure. But more to the point of this conversation, are you?”
Monica untied her apron and slid it away. “I suppose—if they’re brave enough to take me on, I’m sporting enough to return the favor.”
Her voice was quiet. Her eyes were wide, deep and clear. She took hold of his arm, and stepped into him, a request for an embrace that Jeremy readily answered. Arms around one another, they stood in contented silence for a moment.
But layered just beneath that contentment he felt tension in her shoulders, in her arms and across the taut line of her back. She needed this physical gesture of support.
He attributed those undercurrents to the prospect of meeting his large, exuberant family, and he let it go, hoping that’s all there was to it.
Hearts Communion
9
Monica didn’t get nervous about having dinner with Jeremy’s family until she watched him pull up in front of her home. Only then did butterflies go wild in her stomach. Only then did her legs turn to rubber. Pushing those reactions into remission, she steeled her spine and welcomed him with deceptive calm.
“Be prepared for a spread,” he warned once they were on the road. “My family does nothing halfway. Especially when it comes to Sunday dinner.”
The trip took just minutes. When Jeremy entered a neighborhood of large, newer homes nestled upon rolling tracts of land, she gave him a look. “Success seems to be a genetic trait.”
“Dad made a good life for us working for Ford. He didn’t fall into this; he busted his back for it.”
She studied his profile, feeling proud of the man at her side. “Like you.”
Jeremy shrugged. “I suppose. Thing is, my folks give to their kids the way I want to give to my own kids someday. Not in things, and possessions, but in outlook, and character.” He turned into the driveway of a gray brick, two-story home. There were already several cars lined up before his.
“So that’s why you’re so driven. To leave a legacy for your kids?”
“You bet. That, and to make use of the gifts I’ve been given. I figure that’s my responsibility in this life. Know what I mean?”
He paused deliberately, waiting on her, she knew. But Monica couldn’t speak. A choking silence forbade comment. That nasty, familiar boulder came back, landing once again at the dead center of her chest, crushing the hope in her heart. Giving up on further discussion, Jeremy leaned in to give her cheek a lingering kiss, then exited the vehicle. After opening her door, he helped her out. Monica trembled. This exercise is going to be a piece of heaven—and hell.
They walked through a lacey curtain of snowfall, approaching the front door. They didn’t need to ring the bell. The door came open almost immediately by the hand of an attractive, bubbly woman in her mid-sixties. Jeremy quipped in a low voice, “Mom. She sensed our arrival, I swear. She has a kid-detection radar system that never fails.”
“Here you are! Come in, come in!” Following her greeting, Jeremy’s mom took custody of the coats they peeled off. Jeremy performed introductions and Monica took an appreciative sniff of the air. Already the aroma of slow-cooking meat, onions and pepper, filled the house.
“Something smells delicious,” Monica said, following Elise’s lead to the living room. There, seating was at a premium, especially for the guys, because the wall-mounted plasma screen flashed through sports reports and the Detroit Lions’s pre-game show.
“We’
re having London broil, garlic potatoes, coleslaw and corn.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Monica replied, a sense of being overwhelmed sneaking over her.
“Ben, come say hello to Monica and JB.”
Ben Edwards, the clan patriarch, rose from the couch, a twinkle in his eyes and laughter on his lips. “I tell you true, if it hasn’t moved, Elise cooked it. She goes crazy for family get-togethers.”
“Oh, please ignore him,” Elise implored. “I simply enjoy gathering the troops. We’re about ready to have some appetizers, but let’s introduce you around first.”
From there, the world of greetings and introductions became a whirlwind and a deluge. Front of the line was Collin Edwards, who gave Monica an understanding smile and a quick hug. “Daveny and Kiara are in the kitchen,” he informed, “along with Caroline, Steph, Georgia and Kim.” Monica felt her eyes go wide. This was a houseful. Especially when one factored in the numerous youngsters who presently dashed from room to room in a playful game of chase.
Family. It was such an enormous foundation for Jeremy—and such an empty, gaping hole in her life. Melancholy settled over Monica’s spirit. She sank into herself, and hated the reaction, but all things considered, fighting inner demons became unavoidable. Following more introductions, they made their way to the kitchen. The Edwards’s home was large and graciously appointed. Wood-trimmed stairwells, plush carpeting and crystal light sconces enhanced a formal, but not stuffy tone. Cathedral ceilings lent an airy sense of space and light to the atmosphere, and Monica couldn’t help thinking of the similarities, the continuity, expressed in Jeremy’s living space.
Jeremy kept hold of her hand the whole time, offering unspoken support as she was inundated by new names and faces. And charming, precocious kid after charming, precocious kid.
A kitchenette played host to the female members of the family as well as a few others. The sight of Daveny Edwards was a welcome delight. Fresh, vibrant and full of a joyful spirit, Daveny enfolded Monica in a tight hug of greeting, whispering in her ear, “You’ll muddle through. Promise. The numbers aren’t nearly as intimidating once you settle in.”
Monica tried to laugh, but she felt hollow inside, especially when she noticed the way the nieces and nephews climbed all over Jeremy, showering him with hugs and hellos. She shifted focus, wanting diversion. That answer came in the form of an absolutely gorgeous woman who sat next to Daveny. This woman kept her eye on a man standing next to Elise; presently he helped prepare a tray of cheese, crackers and veggies.
“Monica Kittelski,” Daveny said, “meet Kiara Lucerne. Kiara’s my partner at Montgomery Landscaping.”
They exchanged handshakes and smiles. Kiara gestured to the nearest empty chair. “Daveny has so many nice things to say about your day care center, Monica. I’d love to hear about it.”
Monica watched Daveny stifle a grin and tuck a wave of chocolate-colored hair behind her ear. “Indeed she would,” Daveny muttered.
Beneath the table, Monica felt a slight whoosh of air and motion. Judging by Daveny’s sudden wince, it seemed Kiara performed a shin-kick to her friend beneath the table.
“Like I’m the only one with secrets,” Kiara whispered. The two women shared a knowing look, then focused on Monica. “How long have you owned the facility?”
“For about five years now. It was in place before I purchased it, but the woman who owned it previously decided it was time to retire.”
“Well I say God bless anyone who has the patience and stamina to educate and care for children the way you do, Monica.” Up to their table stepped the tall, handsome man who’d helped Elise with food preparations. Dressed in a polo shirt and jeans, he radiated warmth and appeal. He sat and slid his hand against Kiara’s shoulder in a gesture of quiet intimacy. This must be the pastor, Monica thought. The one who heads the church Jeremy attends.
The man offered his hand. “Hi, I’m Ken Lucerne.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Jeremy’s told me so many nice things about you. About all of you,” she amended, taking in the table at large.
Conversations took off from there and Monica sat back, observing. Elise had silver hair, styled into a soft, neat bob around her chin. Dressed in black jeans and a bulky, cream-colored sweater, she looked far younger than she must be to have mothered all of JB’s siblings.
Collin entered the kitchen and retrieved a couple of sodas from the refrigerator. He was, Monica now realized, so similar to his brothers in the eyes and face, and in physical stature, but the soft waves of lighter colored hair, almost blond in fact, and the green rather than brown eyes spoke strongly of his mother’s heredity.
Then there were the kids. Of various ages and sizes, Monica quickly lost track. They clamored for attention, especially from Elise. Jeremy hiked one in on his back. Not surprisingly, both nephew and uncle were on the hunt for food. When he looked at Monica, Jeremy lowered the youngster. “Go see what Grandma’s got stashed on the counter over there, Tommy. Looks like your fave—cheese and crackers.”
Jeremy stepped up to Monica from behind, and she calmed instantly when he settled a hand on her shoulder. His other slid neatly beneath her hair, and he massaged her neck, kneading her skin with slow, gentle strokes. Heat bloomed at the center of her body and rose with shimmering intensity to the surface of her skin.
But the connection they shared didn’t completely dispel an inner chill. She thought she had been prepared for this gathering. She was woefully mistaken; a sense of inadequacy played havoc against edgy nerves and refused her any semblance of peace.
“How many grandkids are there?” she asked Elise, who lowered the snack tray for Tommy’s eager fingers as he danced from foot to foot. He snatched a snack, and off he ran.
“Say thank you to Grandma,” came Jeremy’s admonishment.
“Thank you, Grandma!” he called over his shoulder, not breaking stride.
Elise watched after her grandson with a happy expression on her face. “We have six grandchildren. And I’d take six more, thank you.”
Elise set the tray on the table, and once again Kiara and Daveny shared a puzzling look. Ken ducked his gaze, reaching for the freshly positioned food offering in a manner that seemed more diversionary than anything else. An odd, unexpected sense of foreshadowing crept through her system. Out of her element, starting to tremble on the inside, Monica receded further and further to the background.
Chatter ebbed and flowed through the room, through the entire household, really. Jeremy took Monica on a brief tour of the place where he had grown up. At the conclusion, they met up with Tommy once again. This time, Tommy was trailed by Jeffrey, who hurtled into Monica and hugged her legs tight. “Miss Monica!”
She tried hard not to flinch. She tried hard not to stiffen. She tried hard not to back off when one of the nieces joined in as well, charging forward to join their little group. Tommy bounced up and down. “Uncle JB, come play a game with me and Katie.”
“I pway! I pway! I wan’ Miss Monica, too,” little Jeffrey declared, not releasing his hold.
“She can come, too,” Tommy appeased.
The trio of children waited expectantly. Jeremy looked at Monica. She wanted to offer the genuine smile for which he waited. She tried to nod in agreement. Instead, she froze. She longed for an escape hatch—a release from the pressure-cooker sensation that settled around her body and squeezed out every good emotion she should have been feeling right now. Kids and family were a huge equation in Jeremy’s life. That didn’t bode well for their future. Not from Monica’s perspective.
Kid-play just wasn’t in her right now.
“Tell you what, Uncle JB, you hit the game room. I’m going to visit the kitchen and see if Elise needs any help.”
She ignored Jeffrey’s disappointed expression, Jeremy’s silent surprise. She turned fast toward the kitchen just in time to see Elise at the threshold of the family room. Jeremy’s mom witnessed the exchange and watched in dark puzzlement.
“Actually,
I’m all set,” Elise said. “You and Jeremy should just relax and enjoy yourselves. Really, go along and have fun.”
Monica pressed her lips together, looking away. Defeated on a number of levels, she nodded, pasted on a smile, and followed slowly after Jeremy and the kids. But she couldn’t help noticing Elise’s expression had gone sharper still. Speculative.
After the board game came a bracing, exuberant game of soccer in the backyard that teamed adults against the kids. Once again, Monica tried to step to the sidelines but Jeremy would have none of that. He brought her in full-bore until Monica was dashing across the lawn along with everyone else, chasing after the black and white striped Spaulding in family-friendly competition. Still, she caught the vibration of puzzlement escalating on behalf of both Jeremy and Elise.
The weather was cold, accented by an on-and-off sputtering of snowflakes, so it was a short match, designed to allow the kids to blow off a bit of cabin fever and build an appetite for dinner. Monica’s attempts at play were halfhearted at best—until, at one point, little Jeffrey looked over at her from across the expanse of the backyard. He smiled greatly, and wiggled his fingers. A lump, inspired by longing, expanded in Monica’s throat. Stinging, cold wind bit through her, so if anyone noticed that her eyes filled, she could blame it on anything but the ache in her heart. She blew Jeffrey a little kiss and wiggled her fingers right back.
After the match, Jeffrey dashed straight for her. “Miss Monica, you good! Fun, huh? I good, too!”
Monica was so wrapped up in the goings on of her heart, so troubled by thoughts of the family that bounded in and out of focus, she found herself at a loss when the youngster settled warmly against the side of her leg. Jeffrey looked up at her, eager and waiting. Monica realized he probably expected the comfort and familiarity of the way she treated him at Sunny Horizons.
There, in her own environment, she wouldn’t hesitate to swing him into the air, or carry him along on her hip as she walked through the center. She could claim temporary possession when she was at Sunny Horizons. To coddle and “parent” him there was as natural as breathing.
Hearts Communion Page 6
