Soft Spot: A Hale Street Novella

by Amy Knupp

  He tried to puzzle through that in his head, but all he could think of was that it seemed like it would make more sense to ask Hunter for one extra shift each week rather than drive all this way five days a week.

  Realizing Asia was watching him, he straightened and said, "So we're going in?"

  "We're going in."

  He still didn't understand, but he opened his door and climbed out, met her in front of the car on the walkway to the door. "So you're going to work and I'm…?"

  "You can hang out, talk to the residents, and as my guest, you can get a meal dirt cheap. My treat," she said dryly. "Tuesday's chicken fried steak is one of the best choices."

  "What do you mean, talk to the residents? The old peop— The senior citizens?"

  "Those are the ones. They love fresh meat."

  He could tell she was trying to be funny, but he stiffened as they went through the exterior doors and encountered a shriveled, hunched-over woman in a wheelchair who was theoretically watching out the glass doors.

  "Hi, Mabel," Asia said, pausing next to her. She bent down enough that the woman could see her, then took Mabel's gnarled, age-spotted hand in hers. "Waiting for John?"

  Mabel licked her lips and said, "I sure am," in a weak but enthusiastic voice.

  "See you at lunch," Asia said, smoothing her other hand over Mabel's before straightening and continuing farther into the building.

  Jackson followed, and down the main hall, he saw a handful of elderly people heading in the same direction as he and Asia, some with walkers and a couple being pushed in wheelchairs.

  Asia slowed and looked up at him with a concerned expression. "This is how the other side ends up," she whispered. "It's not pretty, and some days it doesn't smell very good in here, but the staff is mostly good and cares about these people."

  "Other side?" Jackson repeated, noticing a formerly tall man bent over a walker, heading their direction from one of the side hallways, and with every step, he made a quiet but audible hmm sound.

  "The people who depend on government aid. The non-billionaires," Asia said with a sardonic half grin.

  Understanding hit him. She thought he was bothered because of the side of town they were on and the financial status of these people.

  "That high school we passed about four blocks back? I used to go there every week to mentor the kids on computer projects," he said quietly.

  Asia tilted her head and a crease appeared between her brows. She didn't speak for several steps, and then she said, "Okay," as if unsure whether to believe that. "You seem uneasy about this place."

  Uneasy was putting it mildly, but it had nothing to do with the economic status of the people.

  "They're making their way toward the dining room," Asia said. "Several of them go early. It's one of the highlights of their day. Morning, Gil. How you doing?"

  "On the right side of the grass, Miss Asia. Can't complain." The man was in a motorized wheelchair, buzzing his way toward Mecca.

  As Jackson and Asia rounded the corner, they came upon a large common room with rust-colored commercial-grade carpet and dozens of small square tables set for four with wheeled, cushioned chairs around them. Fifteen or twenty of the chairs were occupied by seniors, some of them sharing tables, some sitting by themselves.

  "This way," Asia said. "Letty and Dolores are already here. I'll introduce you."

  He wondered how obvious it would be if he tried an escape to the restroom.

  She led him across to the table in the far corner, near what he assumed was the kitchen door.

  "Hi, ladies," she said to the two women sitting across from each other.

  "Hello, precious girl," the one on the right with hair so thin he could see her scalp said.

  "Hi, Asia." The one on the left, with a severely protruding lower jaw, touched Asia's forearm affectionately. Her face looked a thousand years old, with a network of wrinkles like a pattern in a canyon wall, but her eyes came alive.

  "I brought a friend today. This is Jackson Lowell. Jackson, this is Letty." She squeezed the brown-eyed woman on the left's hand. "And this is Dolores," she said of the thin-haired one.

  "Nice to meet you," he said, still standing a half step behind Asia.

  "He's a handsome one," Dolores said to Asia in a voice loud enough for most of the room to hear. "Good for you."

  "Shh, Dolores," Letty said. "You're embarrassing him."

  Jackson forced out a laugh but didn't know what to say. He'd be the first to admit he didn't have much experience with seniors. His parents were in their late fifties, so he supposed they probably technically qualified for a senior discount in some places, but there was a big difference between fifties and these ladies.

  "I thought he could sit at your table for lunch," Asia said, and Jackson caught himself before he could glance around for a different option. Maybe the purple car.

  Jesus. He could do this. He'd faced CEOs of billion-dollar companies and politicians and pissed-off clients before. He could handle a couple of octogenarians for an hour or so.

  "Well, sit yourself down. Today's chicken fried steak day. Lucky for you," Letty said.

  "Where are you going to be?" he asked Asia, sounding like the wuss he was.

  "All over. In the kitchen, first, then I'll be bringing meals to every table."

  "We get served first at this table," Dolores told him proudly. "It's why we come early every day."

  "Smart thinking," Jackson said, and he moved to the nearest chair between the two women.

  "Not there," Dolores said with a snap in her voice.

  "That's Wanda's spot," Letty explained. "But this seat is available." She patted the one on the opposite side of the table.

  He felt Asia's hand on his arm as he started for the other side.

  "Before you sit down," she said, "can I talk to you for a minute?"

  She could talk to him for more than a minute. An hour or two would be sublime.

  He nodded, and Asia led him over to an alcove where there was a table with a large silver coffeepot, mugs, cream, sugar, and an assortment of artificial sweeteners. It was far enough away from the tables that no one could hear them.

  "I get it now," she said, facing him. "You're afraid of them."

  "I don't know if I'd use the word afraid. Uncomfortable…" Jackson admitted. He wasn't proud of it, but… "A lot of them look … in pain. And they don't seem to have filters."

  "Most of their filters are used up," she agreed. She grabbed one of his hands. "Oh, my God. Are your hands sweating?" She rubbed her fingers over his palm. "You really are scared, aren't you?"

  He expected to see ridicule in her eyes, but instead, there was empathy.

  "Here's the thing. These people aren't judgmental. Most of them love visitors and just want someone to talk to. Someone to listen to them. I know they can look intimidating because a lot of them are bent out of shape, but they're still humans. Just … talk to them. Ask them questions. Treat them like you would anyone else. It'll make their day."

  "Talk to them," he repeated. "What do I ask them?"

  "Where they came from, whether they were married, if they have any children. Normal stuff."

  He nodded slowly, taking in what she said.

  "Or you can take my car if you want to leave. I can catch a ride with someone."

  "I'm not leaving." He'd already made enough of an ass of himself with his hesitation. "I'll talk to them. To Letty and Dolores and…"

  "Wanda," she filled in. "They're interesting people. Ask Dolores about her army commander husband and she'll talk your ear off."

  "Is he…?"

  "He died about fifteen years ago."

  "I don't want to make her sad."

  "You won't. She loves talking about him." Asia checked her watch. "I need to report to the kitchen. You want my keys?"

  He shook his head and waved her off. "How soon will you be done?"

  "Lunch is over at twelve thirty. I have to do a little clean up then, but I'll be ready to go
shortly after that."

  Just over an hour.

  He could do almost anything for just over an hour. He hoped.

  oOo

  Jackson was surprised to realize, when Asia came by to collect their dirty plates and bowls, that an hour had passed. Though things had been tense for a couple minutes after Wanda had showed up, with her artificially bright red hair, because she wasn't too sure about welcoming a man to their ladies-only table, she'd loosened up when he'd asked to see pictures of her great-granddaughter, Kaylee.

  A few minutes after they'd finished the meal and clean-up had ended, Asia had clocked out, and they were in her car, on their way back to his office.

  "That was interesting," he said. "How long have you worked there?"

  "A little over two years. I think Wanda has a crush on you."

  He held back a shudder. Though he'd made it through the meal intact and started to enjoy the way the ladies' eyes lit up with joy even when their wizened faces didn't, he still wasn't sure what to think about the redheaded fireball.

  "You're a good person," he told her. "Not everyone is so good with the senior set."

  He saw her frown from the side and wondered what he'd said to cause it.

  "I'm not a good person," she said with conviction. "I'm not a volunteer. I get paid."

  "Sure, but still … not everyone would choose to work with seniors, paid or not."

  She drove a couple miles without responding, but she was obviously not receptive to the compliment. When she braked for a red light, she blew out a forceful breath and said, "Look, working there has nothing to do with doing a good deed. I'm not a do-gooder. Not someone trying to give back to a community that has less than me because I have extra time or an overdose of goodwill. This is me, my background. That place back there? It's … my family." Her voice broke, and he saw her swallow down some emotions.

  The light turned green, Asia gave the car some gas, and Jackson tried to figure out what to say. Before he could, she continued. "My grandma lived there until she died three years ago. Letty, Dolores, and Wanda were her best friends. The seat you sat in for lunch… That was my grandma's spot."

  Jackson was yet again stunned silent, searching his brain for an appropriate comment.

  "Those ladies, with their frank comments and their set-in-stone ways," she continued, "are like my substitute grandmas."

  "They seemed like nice women who care a lot about you," he said carefully.

  "Yeah," Asia bit out. "They are." She clamped her jaw shut and didn't say anything else, leaving Jackson to try to puzzle through what had just happened.

  "I'm sorry about your grandma," he said sincerely.

  Asia bit her lip, nodded, and said, "Thanks."

  Another few minutes later, they were back in the parking lot of his office, where Asia drew up to the curb and stopped the car.

  "I'm sorry I was hesitant at first," he said. "You were right. Those three women loved talking about their families and their pasts. I found out Letty used to be a physician's assistant. She went back to school at forty-seven to become one. That takes some serious balls."

  "Letty's got steel ones," Asia said. "Thanks for indulging them."

  "I wasn't indulging them. Maybe at first, because I didn't know what else to do. But a couple questions in and I was interested. Thanks for taking me."

  "You don't mean that." Asia narrowed her eyes in doubt.

  "I don't normally say things I don't mean. If I'm a hundred percent honest, that wasn't quite as good as a real date with you would be, mainly because I didn't get to see you much at all, but it was a close second."

  And he did mean that, as odd as it seemed. Because it was more than just a visit to the old folks' home. It was her letting him into a piece of her life — something he instinctively knew didn't come easily for her.

  "Still not saying yes," Asia said, and instead of the teasing tone he was becoming accustomed to whenever she turned him down — how many times was it now, four? — she sounded serious. Sad. Or maybe disappointed.

  There was nothing left for him to do except say good-bye, get out of the car, and try to make sense of this confusing woman and their intriguing but perplexing non-date.

  oOo

  Asia's plan had backfired.

  Though inviting Jackson to go to Spring Meadow with her had been spontaneous and she'd regretted it the second he'd walked out of Clayborne's last night, after thinking on it, she'd decided it would serve as an effective reality check for her upper-class suitor.

  Instead, he hadn't been fazed for a second by the neighborhood or the state of the inner-city facility. By being surrounded by elderly people, he'd maybe been fazed and then some, but he'd sucked it up and given Dolores, Wanda, and Letty a chance, and by the end of lunch, they'd all hugged him good-bye, with Wanda smacking a big, noisy kiss on his cheek as well.

  And instead of Asia scaring him off and feeling okay about it, she'd learned he didn't scare easily. She couldn't deny that his uncertainty in the beginning had been endearing and that the way he'd faced his fear in the end…

  Yep. Backfired.

  Because it'd made her respect him, dammit, and like him even more.

  It was getting harder and harder to say no, and more difficult yet to remember why she was. So maybe it was time to stop resisting. Maybe the next time he asked her out, she would ignore her doubts and say yes.

  Chapter Nine

  I figured it out.

  Jackson checked the time once more before he sent the text message to Asia. Ten sixteen a.m. He pressed send and laid the phone on his desk, trying to tell himself it didn't matter if she didn't respond right away. He wasn't waiting for it.

  He opened his email inbox and started reading the top message, comprehending exactly none of it in the twenty seconds it took for her to reply.

  Figured out what?

  An embarrassingly eager grin spread over his face, and he ascertained that his office door was, indeed, closed so he could act like a goober in private.

  Your MO, he typed. You took me to the senior place to try to scare me away. To show me again how different you and I are.

  He leaned back in his desk chair, no longer trying to play it cool. The realization had struck him hours ago, on his morning run, as he'd been unable to get his mind off Asia and their strange lunch yesterday. He'd nearly texted her right away but then had figured she'd probably be a late sleeper because of working nights at Clayborne's.

  Maybe, she replied.

  Didn't work.

  Almost did for different reasons. Ever heard of gerontophobia?

  Jackson didn't need to look her word up to figure out it meant a fear of old people.

  I'm working on it, he texted. Yesterday helped. Who else knows about your second job?

  My sister. My boss.

  No one else?

  No, she answered.

  Just as he'd suspected. He wasn't sure why she seemed to be ashamed of it. He'd meant what he'd said yesterday. It took a special kind of person to befriend the elderly, and everyone at the home seemed to love her.

  Why not? he asked.

  None of their business. Don't you have anything you keep private?

  If I did, I wouldn't tell you, Jackson typed. Because it'd be private. ;)

  But it gave him an idea. A new strategy. Obviously, asking her out repeatedly hadn't done any good, so why not?

  He stood, strode to the window in his office, which looked out over a green, woodsy area — part of the reason they’d chosen this building. He typed in another message: Do you work at Clayborne's tonight?

  Yes.

  Tomorrow?

  Yes.

  The next day?

  Friday's my day off this week. Why? Are you going to ask me out again?

  Nope, he texted. Just curious. I need to get back to work, and you need to get to Letty and company, right?

  Yes.

  Tell the ladies I said hi. I'll talk to you soon.

  Friday, to be exact. But
she didn't need to know that.

  Chapter Ten

  "Asia? You decent?"

  Asia was towel-drying her hair when her sister came into the apartment and bellowed the question Friday afternoon.

  "Depends on how you define decent," she said as she came out of the bathroom into the hallway. She was wearing her favorite leggings — apricot, magenta, and aqua with an intricate diamond and circle pattern — and a sunshine-yellow T-shirt. Her hair was a wet, tangled mess.

  As she entered the open kitchen and living area, she stopped in her tracks.

  "Decent enough to have a boy over?" Vegas said with a smirk.

  Jackson stood behind her sister, just inside the door, looking, well, more than a little beautiful in dark-wash jeans, a black shirt, sexy black boots, and a half smile that got her blood racing.

  "I found him in the parking lot," Vegas explained, and Asia realized she hadn't said anything yet.

  "Uh, hi. I didn't… What are you doing here?" Not only did he seem out of place in her shabby apartment, but she'd been convinced, after their text exchange on Wednesday, that she wouldn't hear from him again. That he'd given up on her.

  "I left work early," he said, and, considering it was just after three o'clock on a weekday, that much was obvious. "Sorry to drop in uninvited, but I hoped the element of surprise might work in my favor."

  "Sounds like the man has an evil plan," Vegas said, taking off her combat boots and leaving them in the middle of the room.

  "I've got something to show you," Jackson said to Asia.

  "That's what they all say," Vegas purred as she walked past Asia into the kitchen area and opened the refrigerator.

  "Vegas." Asia smacked her sister's arm, grinning in spite of herself, in part because her sister's comment was amusing but in bigger part because … Jackson was here. For her. When she'd thought she'd screwed it up for good with him. "I'm…" so not decent enough to be standing there having a conversation with him. "I just got out of the shower. If my sister weren't here to blow my story, I'd tell you I just finished a hard workout and needed to get cleaned up."