“Holy crap…” she whispered. “I could actually get paid.”
The number wasn’t phenomenal, but it was the first time in three months that she would have enough money to meet her regular household expenses and still have some left over.
“I could go out to eat.” She put her hand to her belly and sucked it in. “Or not…” She laughed at herself and shook her head.
It had been over a week since her call with Rhonda, and about a month since the wedding. In that time, she’d managed to mostly stick to the eating regimen that had helped her fit the bridesmaid gown. And she’d dropped about seven pounds more in the process. She felt good about her slimmer self, and although she was still curvy, she loved the fact that she could once again get into some of her jeans from early in her marriage.
And her night with Jeremy Rawley hadn’t hurt, either. Even if the light of the next morning had seen the same old doubts creep into her mind, she couldn’t deny the genuine way in which he’d savored her body. She kept the memory of that night close to her heart, each touch and kiss and lick and sigh and groan emblazoned in her psyche. She called upon them often.
Her doorbell rang, and she looked up in surprise. “Who in the world would go out in this stuff?”
She was even more shocked to find young Tim Jenkins there. He had a poncho on but was still soaking wet, water sliding off of him in sheets as he stood on the porch.
“Tim? What on earth?”
“Here you go, Mrs. S.” He reached under the slicker and pulled out her mail, damp but otherwise undamaged. “Thought I’d bring your mail up.”
“Well, take off that poncho and drape it over the swing over there, then come on inside.”
He did, following her in, but not before stomping his feet on the floor mat so that he didn’t track mud and wet into the house.
It might’ve been rainy, but it was otherwise warm outside. “Did you ride your bike all this way? Want some ice tea?”
He nodded, then slipped his hands into his pockets. “Thanks, Mrs. S. That would be great.”
She poured them both a tall glass with lots of ice, then pushed her paperwork aside on the table and motioned for him to sit. He did, sipping his tea and avoiding her eyes.
“C’mon, Tim. I know you didn’t get out in this weather just to walk my mail from my mailbox to my front porch.”
“I was hopin’ maybe I could talk to you about something.”
“Of course you can.”
She waited patiently, drinking her tea and thumbing the stack of papers while he searched for his words.
“Well, you know I had that college weekend.”
“I thought you had a good time. You seemed excited about it.”
He raised then dropped a shoulder and avoided looking at her. “Maybe I’m not cut out for college. You know, I don’t know how to act there. I mean, when I’m with my boys here, they know me, and they know where I come from. Maybe getting out’s not that easy.”
“It’s not supposed to be easy, Tim. The things that are most important are supposed to be hard work. But that still doesn’t tell me what happened.”
He gulped down the rest of his drink. “Can I have some more?”
She took the glass and walked to the fridge. He’d gotten his manners from his grandmother, she knew. The day Meg went by to talk to Tim about working for her, she’d pretty much been interviewed by Mrs. Jenkins as if she were the one applying for a job. But Meg couldn’t blame the woman. All her hopes for her family were wrapped up in that one boy. She was determined that he would not follow the path of the other men in his family. And so far, she’d been successful in keeping him on the straight and narrow.
“The library was enormous. It was like the ones you see in movies, you know?”
“Mmm.” Meg nodded, moving her glass so that the ice swirled round and round. “Yeah, I saw it once.”
“Oh.”
“Well, I considered going to college right after high school. But we didn’t really have the money for both of us to go. I should have worked harder starting my sophomore year to try to earn some scholarships, but that’s all in the past.”
“Well, my English teacher last year gave me a list of books. Said I could go into a college prep course next year, you know, so I could earn some advance credits.”
“That’s a good idea. Have you started any?”
“Not yet.” A period of silence ensued. Meg waited some more. Tim would get there, but he had to get there his own way. “Do you regret it?”
She blinked. “Regret what?”
“Not going to college.”
Now it was her turn to pause. She looked at the table top and inhaled a long, slow breath. “I do regret it sometimes. But wallowing in regret doesn’t do any good. All you can do is make decisions day to day. Want to know a secret?”
His eyes sparked to life, and he smiled big. She pushed away from the table and left the room, then returned a few minutes later with a folder. She held her hand out and waited for him to take it. He laughed a little as he read the letters on the front and then opened it to see her almost complete application.
“You’re gonna go to college?”
She shrugged. It hadn’t been a spur of the moment decision. When Ray had taken the “short term” contract in New York, she’d talked to him about starting classes. He was making better money then, and she thought maybe they could afford it. After some discussion, they decided she would start back last fall. Of course the divorce had changed things, but now that it was over, there was no reason not to pursue her dreams.
“This is so cool, Mrs. S. I didn’t know grown-ups went to college.”
She snorted. “I’m not an old lady, Tim.”
“You’ll be so smart you can help me with my school work.”
Reaching across the table, she pretended to smack him. “I’m already smart enough to do that. Does your grandma know you’re here?”
He slid the folder back to her as he moved his head up and down. “I left her a note.”
Meg cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, I have some more good news. We had a really good month, and I think we should celebrate. Let’s go get some pizza.”
“Mmm, I love me some pizza. Let’s go.”
She carried their glasses towards the kitchen. “First pick up that phone and call your grandma. Let her know we’ll be at Chi Chi’s and tell her to meet us there in about fifteen and to bring her appetite.”
On the drive to the pizza joint, Tim turned to her with a serious expression. “Do you miss Mr. Slack? You don’t really talk about him.”
That was true. She didn’t talk about him much, and most people didn’t ask. She figured they assumed she was probably broken up about the divorce and that was okay. She didn’t want to go into the details of what happened, what went wrong, whose fault it was. She only wanted to move on. Her one regret in all of it was the Slack family.
Rhonda’s reaction to the divorce really hadn’t been a surprise to Meg. She knew her friend well and it would take her some time to get used to the end of the dream she’d had for so long.
“I’m sorry things had to change, but I don’t miss him that much, Tim. I think we’re both happier apart.”
“Yeah, I get it. You know, I felt bad when I first moved in with Grandma because I was so glad to be there. Like, I was abandoning Mom or something. But I’m happier, and Mom and Larry and the kids are, too.”
Tim went home with his grandma after their meal. Mrs. Jenkins told Meg she would drop him off at her house the next morning, and if there was no work to be done he could just ride his bike back home. If the rain continued as it had been all day, it would be entirely too wet to do any of their normal jobs.
Longing for a hot bath, Meg grabbed the untouched mail from the table on the way to her bathroom to turn on the water. A few moments later, clean clothes in hand, she entered the steamy room, undressed and sank into the near scalding water. All the muscles in her bod
y squealed in relief as the tension eased out of them. She sighed, sat back and grabbed the mail.
When she flipped through and saw an envelope with a strange scrawl and a return address in Durma she gasped and leaned forward. Tossing all the other mail aside, she tore through that envelope. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her hands shook a little as she opened the neatly folded linen paper.
My Dear Meg,
I’m sure you’re surprised to get a letter from me. After I dropped you at your house that day, I took a moment to jot down your address. First, I feel the need to apologize. I think I might have been a cad the morning after our night together, and I want there to be no misunderstanding. I enjoyed every moment of that evening. All of it, and there is not a single regret except that I whisked you home too soon. The truth is that I was somewhat embarrassed by my own behavior. You called it a “hook-up”, but I’d like to think I’m a gentleman. And you are not the sort of woman who deserves that.
It was fully my intention to write sooner, but traveling to the old world is never easy. My mother and sister also accompanied us on this trip, which added even more complication.
Hmm… that might sound worse than I intended. I meant no disrespect or malice to the ladies in my family. But I swear to you it cost just as much to ship all of their things as it did to ship them here.
There are always lots of social engagements in Durma, and Kay enjoys them to excess. Thank goodness she’s too young to drink or no telling what sort of trouble she might get into. I sort of wish you could meet her. I’m really boring by comparison.
I had a chat with a great uncle of mine, and he was telling me of the time he would exchange letters with his sweetheart and they would include special codes in the placement of the stamps. Have you ever heard of such a thing? But it was in this conversation that I decided to throw caution to the wind and send you this letter in the hopes that we could correspond as friends.
My father and I have a good many meetings and functions going on, but I’d very much like it if we could keep in touch. I enjoyed our short time together, Meg. And even though it was so short, somehow I miss you.
Yours,
Jeremy
Dear Jeremy,
I was so surprised to get your letter. Pleasantly surprised. There’s been a lot going on in my life since the wedding, and for some reason you’re the person I keep thinking I wish were here to tell it. So thank your uncle for me. I’m glad he provided the push you needed to send your letter.
But first, I should warn you … I love letter writing. I used to scribble long letters to all of my friends in school and then fold them up into those weird and fun shapes that only high school kids have time to figure out. I’ll refrain from the funny folds, but I can’t garantee guarantee anything as far as length. And one more warning, I’m a terrible speller!
So I finally told Rhonda about the divorce. It didn’t go very well. She said some things I wish she hadn’t … I won’t go into detail, but I know she’s just hurt. Ray should have been there with me when I told her, but he’s been avoiding me (and probably her) like the plague. I shouldn’t be surprised. He never could stand up to her.
But it’s a relief not to have to hide it anymore. It spread through town like wildfire, but most people are too good to mention it. I need to go see the Slacks, but I guess I’m as much of a coward as Ray because I haven’t been able to do that either. Oh well …
I can’t remember if I mentioned Tim Jenkins to you before. He’s a high school kid who I hired to help me with my little landscaping business. Wait, did I mention my business? I don’t know if I did. I enjoy working with plants, always did. I started taking on small projects years ago, and it just built up from there. Which is a good thing, because when Ray left I needed some income. Haha!
So back to Tim. I can’t tell you what a big help he is. In this day and age, it seems hard to get kids to focus, but he’s been invaluble invaluable to me. He works hard and never complains. He lives with his grandma, and that woman is like a firecracker. I admire her wit and her strength and her determination that Tim behave like a young gentleman.
In more good news, I didn’t think there could be anything else better in my mail than your letter, but a close second was confirmation that I’d won my bid to do a project at a historical house near downtown. It was purchased by the county historical society, and they’ve been in the process of restoring it. I just love old houses, and I had so many ideas and plans for the project. I won’t make much money, but that really doesn’t matter. This one will be a labor of love!
So I’m boring you to tears, right? Yeah, I know I am. I guess I’ll cut myself off and seal this letter up before I go on for a few more pages. I hope you enjoy your time in Durma. I have to say I’m jealous … I’ve barely been out of the state, much less the United States!
If you have the time and inclination, please write again. It seriously made my day.
Meg
PS. Your apology was very sweet, but unnecessary. I guess I was a little embarrassed, too. It was probably a little forward of me to invite myself to your hotel room and the light of day made that seem even more bold.
PSS The study and collection of stamps is called phillatelly philately. You’ll notice the upside down stamp on this envelope. I’ve decided that in this case it means “I miss you, too.”
Jeremy smiled as he read the last few paragraphs of Meg’s letter again. He leaned to his left and propped his elbow on the table, resting his chin against his thumb as he flipped a few pages until he found the unfinished note he’d begun a few days ago. It was early in the morning, and there was the thick feel of rain in the air. The smell of freshness awakened his senses, and he inhaled deep before turning back to the words.
I believe part of me might have wondered if you’d write. Nothing was boring at all about your letter.
I can’t help feeling a little angry that Rhonda would put this on you somehow. He left you. He asked you to keep this a secret. He is her brother and has a far greater duty to her than you did as her friend. And as for your parents-in-law, it’s been my experience that good parents are usually much more understanding than their children ever imagine. And from all you said I think they are as much parents to you as to Rhonda and Ray.
Where are your parents, if you don’t mind me asking?
No you hadn’t mentioned Tim Jenkins. He sounds like a promising young man. You know, his grandmother sounds a lot like a woman who used to work for us when I was a child. Her boy was a groundskeeper, but between her wages and his she managed to get him into college. My father never admitted it, but I always suspected that he’d also contributed in some way to help the boy through as well.
A labor of love, eh? Hmmm, you know I envy you that. I haven’t a single creative talent to my name. I’m fair with numbers and strategy, but they are little more than ways to occupy the day. Certainly nothing I’m passionate about.
Jeremy paused and gazed off at the blackening clouds on the horizon. He swallowed and remembered the way Meg’s body had trembled in his arms and the tiny sounds she’d made when he touched her. Except you, Meg. I was passionate about making love to you.
“You’re back early.” A voice spoke from the doorway, and he cut his eyes in that direction, gracing his mother with a measured smile.
“Back?”
“Haven’t you had your ride? You always do first thing in the morning.”
“Oh.” He shuffled his things to the side and out of her immediate view. “No, not this morning.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, her lips cocked in a Cheshire grin that said she knew some secret. Folding her dressing gown to the side, she seated herself onto one of the cushioned deck chairs like a queen upon a throne. As always, he watched her with both affection and reverence.
“Have you had coffee?” she asked, then almost as if she had been waiting for the lady of the house to make the offer, a young woman stepped onto the veranda with a tray. “Thank you, Delilah.”
“I’ve had one cup, but I’ll be glad for a second.”
Once they were alone, both Jeremy and Larra Rawley sipped in silence, watching the approaching summer storm as if it were a production on a stage. Finally, his mother set her cup down and folded her hands in her lap.
“There’s nothing so enthralling as to watch the rain approach from so far off in the distance. You know that it will find you eventually, but its steady deluge makes no hurry, just comes in its own time until it reaches the center of your moment and washes you anew.”
He pursed his lips considering what she’d said, as much for its meaning as for the poetry in the words.
“Well, I suppose I should have a bite to eat before going up to get dressed. Your sister wants to do a bit of shopping before the ball this evening.” She stood and sighed long. “To be young again. I don’t think Kay fully appreciates it.”
Just before she entered back into the manor, Jeremy called out to her.
“Yes, my boy.”
“Would you care to ride with me? Tomorrow morning?”
Larra stepped back out onto the veranda, placing her hand upon his shoulder and patting him affectionately. “That would be nice. Tomorrow it is.”
Just had a strange conversation with my mother. It was almost as if she wanted to bond on some level. Neither of us are the warm and cuddly sort, I suppose. Things have been tense with my parents for a year or so. It’s a long story that would bore you to tear s…
Back to your labor of love. You should take a photograph of the before and after. I’d like to see what it looks like now, and then once you’ve worked your magic.. You might enjoy our gardens, both at our manor state-side and the larger grounds here in Durma. We have a maze here that my cousins and I used to get lost in as children. Once it frightened my poor mother nearly to tears when she couldn’t find my sister Kay as a seven-year old child when she wandered away from the older children. The joys of childhood!
Yours,
Jeremy
PS The diagonal stamps means, “I’m very glad you chose to write back.”
All for Family (The Rawley Family Romances Book 3) Page 8
