“Well, it’s about time.”
“Mom …”
“Brooke, I know you’ve had a terrible time of things. Maybe I’m especially sensitive because I lost my husband, too. I know that after all the years I spent with your father, I won’t be looking for someone else. But you’re so young, sweetie—much too young to hang up your dancing shoes.”
“Jesse and I weren’t exactly dancing, Mom.”
“I got that part, sweetie.” Hannah turned back to the stove, a small smile on her lips. “It was a metaphor for … for whatever you were doing.”
“It was … awkward, to say the least. Jason figured things out real fast and wasn’t very nice. To either of us.”
“Said things he shouldn’t have?”
Brooke nodded. “He made me feel like … like …”
Hannah put her arms around her daughter’s shoulders. “Don’t let him do that, honey. Don’t let anyone do that to you. There’s still happiness in store for you with someone. I want you to find it. Embrace it.”
“That’s pretty much what I was doing when Jason arrived,” Brooke muttered.
The kitchen was silent, Hannah looking for a spatula in an overstuffed drawer, Brooke trying to put everything that happened into perspective.
“I really like Jesse, Mom. There’s something about him … I can’t put my finger on it, but sometimes I feel as if I’ve known him forever. Which of course I haven’t, but—”
“Funny. I said the same thing about your father when I first met him.” Hannah found what she was looking for and closed the drawer, muttering, “Gotta clean that out before I move.”
“I thought you always knew him, the way everyone knows everyone around here.” Brooke turned in her chair to face her mother.
“Remember that your father was five years older than me. I knew who he was because I knew his family, but I didn’t actually meet him until I was sixteen and he was already twenty-one and farming.” Hannah stood at the window looking out.
“You met him at a hayride, right?” She’d heard the story before, but it was a good one, and it looked as if her mother was remembering it, too, just the way it happened all those years ago.
“The hayride was over on the Emmonses farm. I went with a couple of my girlfriends. Your dad was there with his brother, Everett, and his girlfriend.” Hannah paused. “I wonder what ever happened to her. I don’t think I saw her again after Everett died in Vietnam. Anyway, Dave climbed onto the hay wagon we were on, and sat next to me. I never looked at another boy after that. Couldn’t wait until I was eighteen so he’d go out with me.” She looked over her shoulder. “He thought my parents would think he was too old for me. Which they did. But I knew I was going to marry him. Even before I knew I was really in love with him, I knew that. It happens that way sometimes. I don’t understand it myself, but there it is.”
Logan bounded into to room. “Uncle Jason’s here!”
“I know. I saw him!”
“Can I stay home from school tomorrow with him?”
“I must have water in my ears because for a minute there, it sounded like you asked if you could stay home from school tomorrow.” Brooke slicked back his wet hair.
Logan made a face. “I figured you’d say that. But on Saturday he’s going to come watch me play soccer and I told him I’d buy him an ice-cream cone at Scoop.” Logan turned her face so that they were eye to eye. “You still have that little ticket Vanessa gave me on Halloween, right? The one for a free cone?”
Brooke nodded. “It’s upstairs on my desk. I suggest you leave it there until you’re ready to use it.”
“Where is your uncle, Logan?” Hannah asked.
“He’s upstairs, talking to Uncle Clay. They’re talking about beer.”
“Would you please go tell him that his hamburger is ready?”
“Sure, Gramma.” Logan went to the foot of the steps and started to shout, “Uncle—”
“I could have done that myself.” Hannah rolled her eyes. “Go upstairs and tell him, please.”
When Logan had gone, Hannah asked, “Why do you suppose Jason overreacted to your letter the way he did?”
Brooke shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve been asking myself the same question. I mean, just selling out like that was extreme. I have to think that either he reacted from sheer blind anger, in which case he has to be regretting it—”
“Or he was looking for a reason to sell it and your letter provided one.”
“We’ll see, I guess, if he sticks around long enough. As for me”—Brooke stood and stretched—“all the drama aside, I still have a paper due in the morning and six dozen cupcakes to bake. Please make my excuses to Jason, but I have to get to work …”
She was almost to the door leading into the front hall when she stopped. “Mom,” she said, “thanks.”
Hannah turned off the burner under the skillet.
“It’s time to let go of the past whether or not Jesse turns out to be your future. And really, the only way to know for sure is to give him a chance. Don’t turn your back on something that could be very right for you because you’re afraid of what Jason or anyone else may think. It’s your life, Brooke. Start living again.”
Chapter 15
HEY, Soccer Boy,” Brooke greeted Logan as he ran off the field after his game on Saturday morning. “Nice goal.”
“I just kicked the ball and it went in.” Logan’s beaming face told the story.
“Well, that sounds easy, and it looked easy, but I’ll bet it wasn’t all that easy when you were doing it, right?”
He nodded. “It was a lot of running on the field.”
“So what you’re saying is that running was the hardest part?” Jason walked up next to Brooke and he and Logan high-fived.
“Yup.” Logan went to the cooler and found a bottle of water. He screwed off the lid and took a drink. “Somebody tried to trip me, but Cody tripped him instead.”
“That dumb Matt from the other team.” Cody joined Logan at the cooler. “He trips everybody.”
“He doesn’t play fair,” Logan agreed, and the two boys scanned the cluster of players from the opposing team, looking, Brooke supposed, for the kid who liked to play dirty.
“Boys,” Brooke called to them. “Handshake time.”
“I’m not gonna shake Matt’s hand, are you?” she heard Cody say as they ran to catch up with their teammates.
“Is that your … lawyer … your friend? He’s coaching?” Jason stood with his hands in his pockets.
“Yes, he is. Clay asked him to.” Brooke immediately went on the defensive, her hackles up.
Jason held up both hands. “I was only commenting. I wasn’t sure it was the same guy. Don’t read something into it that isn’t there.”
“The way you were only commenting on Thursday night at Jesse’s office?”
Jason exhaled deeply. “I was out of line, Brooke. I apologize once again. I’ll apologize to him, too, if you want. I had no right to say any of those things. Color me stupid.”
“I already have. Mostly for selling your business at the drop of a hat like that.”
He shrugged. “It’s done. No point in talking about it now.”
“Were you just tired of landscaping?”
“No, I love working with plants. I have to admit that working in a place like Florida limits what you can do, because of the climate. But no, I’m not tired of it.” He seemed to think for a moment. “Maybe the challenge to do something different was missing. Like I said, you’re pretty limited to working with tropicals there.”
Logan and Cody were back, jostling each other and laughing.
“Uncle Jace, we’re gonna go to Scoop now and I’m going to buy you an ice-cream cone.” Logan looked up at his mother. “Did you bring the ice-cream ticket?”
“I did.” She opened her wallet and took out the little gift certificate. “Here you go.”
“Cool. Come on, Uncle Jace. The ice-cream place is just on the other side of t
hose trees.” Logan tugged at his sleeve.
“Great game, you two,” Brooke called to Jesse and Clay, who were gathering the team together.
“The Rockets rule, right, guys?” Jesse said as he jogged over, and both boys nodded in agreement.
“We rock,” Cody said as he, Logan, and Jason hurried to catch up with the others. They’d fallen into a sloppy line behind Clay, who was waving for Jesse to join them.
“You walking over to Steffie’s to get ice cream with us?” Jesse asked Brooke. “Clay and I promised them all cones if they won today.”
She shook her head. “I have another three dozen cupcakes to frost, decorate, and deliver by four.”
“What kind?”
“Black Forest and pumpkin.” She paused. “Are we still on for dinner?”
“Of course. Why would we not be?”
“Just checking. I’ll be over around seven.”
“Why so late?” He touched her arm, and trotted off in Scoop’s direction. “Make it six.”
Brooke walked up the path to Jesse’s front door, her arms filled with groceries and her nerves on edge. She’d gone food shopping and had all the ingredients she needed, but she knew tonight wasn’t going to be all about dinner.
Jesse was waiting for her at the door. He took the bags from her arms and she followed him into the kitchen.
“Is there anything here that needs to be refrigerated?” he asked.
“Well, yeah, you make crab cakes with crab and eggs and …” She watched him remove those items from the bags. Instead of placing them on the counter, he opened the refrigerator door and placed them on a shelf.
“Anything else?”
She shook her head, no.
“Good.”
She was in his arms before she had time to blink, caught up in a rush that took her breath away. Jesse’s mouth was on hers, his tongue teasing and tangling with hers, his lips owning hers. Brooke’s arms slid around his neck and she pressed her body into his.
“… unfinished business,” he whispered in her ear.
“Yes,” she murmured, even though she hadn’t heard anything except for those two words.
Jesse’s hands slid over her body as she backed into the counter. She wanted him to touch her everywhere at once, wanted to touch him. She reached for the hem of her sweater and started to pull it over her head, but stopped when he said, “Upstairs.”
“Yes,” she replied.
He took her hand and led her to the stairwell, following close behind her, close enough that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck.
“First room on the right,” he told her.
She pushed the door open and turned to him.
“Now,” he told her, and she pulled off the sweater, then removed her bra. She wiggled out of her skirt and thought she couldn’t be free of her clothes fast enough. She backed onto the bed and Jesse was there, his clothes tossed somewhere, his arms next to her body on the mattress, following her across the bed, until he sank next to her with a soft groan.
She tried to remember the last time she’d felt this alive, the last time she’d wanted anything as much as she wanted him, but her thoughts were too jumbled to recall much of anything. Every inch of her seemed to be crying out for him to touch her, to taste her, to be inside her. She was floating on sensation, lost in an ancient rhythm, the beat of which she thought she’d forgotten. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in. His lips found her breast and she was lost. He thrust inside her and she arched her back and thought she heard someone calling his name before she recognized the voice as her own. She shattered into a thousand pieces and held on to him as they crashed together.
“Oh my God,” she panted. “I think I saw stars.”
“I saw stars.” He nodded, his forehead against hers. “Stars definitely out tonight.”
He slid to one side and nestled her in the crook of his arm.
“So what were you going to make for dinner, anyway?” His eyes were closed, but hers were open. He looked like she felt—relaxed, content, happy.
“Crab cakes and I’m still going to make them.”
“Okay. Wake me when they’re ready.”
“As if.” She forced one of his eyes open. “You snooze, you lose.”
Jesse opened both eyes. “Kidding.”
“I figured.” She rested for a moment, her eyes scanning the room. It was a big square with a bay window in the front and three doors on the left wall. “Does one of those doors lead to a bathroom?”
“The one on the right.”
She slipped out of his arms and walked across the wood floor to the bathroom. The door squeaked slightly when she opened it, and again when she closed it behind her. She turned on the light and looked in the mirror.
Her face was flushed and her lips puffy, her eyes bright. She looked alive, and the thought made her smile. She splashed water on her face to see if the glow would wash off. It didn’t. When she went back to the bedroom a few minutes later, she was still smiling. She tripped over Jesse’s shirt on her way toward the bed, so she picked it up and tossed it at him.
“What are you doing now?” he asked sleepily.
“Gathering up my clothes so I can get dressed.” She found her skirt, inside out, and righted it. “I like company when I cook,” she added pointedly.
“Got it.” He sat up and pulled the shirt over his head. She tossed him his shorts and he laughed.
“I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” she told him.
“Five minutes,” he promised.
It had been less than five, but not by much, before he slid up to her at the sink and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He kissed the tip of her ear, then went to the fridge.
“Do you like wine with your company while you cook?” he asked.
“I do.”
“White or red?”
“White.”
He took two glasses from the cupboard and filled them. He handed one to her and said, “To us. To new beginnings.” He touched the rim of his glass to hers and winked.
“Jesse,” she said, “there is something about you—”
“I’m irresistible, right?”
Brooke laughed. “In your own way, yes, you are.”
“Good. Now, what can I do to help you?”
“You can find one of those yellow ware bowls for me.”
“This one?” He held up the large bowl he’d used for Halloween candy.
“That’ll do.” She went through the grocery bags she’d brought with her, lining up celery, carrots, an onion, a plastic bag of bread crumbs, chives, a red pepper, a bottle of Worcestershire sauce, and an egg on the kitchen table.
“This is a neat table,” she said.
“It’s made from old reclaimed barn boards,” he told her. “A guy in Pennsylvania makes them. I bought it when I was passing through on my way here in January.”
“Maybe you can tell me how to find him. I think I’d like something like this for my new house.” She opened the fridge and took out a package of crabmeat wrapped in brown paper.
“When do you think you’ll be moving?”
“Not as soon as I’d like. My brother got an estimate for the basic, most necessary renovations from Cam O’Connor—do you know him? Cameron? Tall blond guy?”
“I may have met him.”
“Anyway, he’s our local contractor. He gave Clay an estimate that was higher than I’d anticipated. But I figure with school being over, I’ll have more time, so I can do some of the work myself. At least the interior painting.”
“I can help with that,” he told her. “I’m good at that.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know. But since I plan on spending a lot of time there, I figure I should carry my weight.”
“You mean this wasn’t a one-night stand?” She’d thought to make a joke of it, but it didn’t come out that way.
“Not on your life.” He leaned back in the chair at the kitchen table and made no mo
ve to touch her, but she felt touched, as if he’d run his hands down her arms. “You sleep with me, you have to keep me. You own me.”
She laughed. “Knife?”
“Seriously?”
She laughed again. “I need to chop this stuff.” She pointed to some of the vegetables.
“I’ll chop. You do the rest.”
He brought a knife and a cutting board to the table and picked up the red pepper. “How small?”
“Small,” she told him. “Really small.”
“Okay. So we need to talk about my grandfather’s birthday party,” he began as he was slicing up the pepper.
“How are the plans going?”
“Pretty good. Yesterday Violet made up some invitations and Liz printed them off in the office. They actually looked really good. She said that was the only way they’d get done in time. Then she emailed them to everyone whose email address she had, printed them out for those whose email addresses she didn’t have. Didn’t you get yours?”
“I haven’t looked at email in a week. I’ll check when I get home. Are you definitely having it at Lola’s?”
“Yes. I called yesterday and spoke with Jimmy. He said they’d take care of everything, that they know what dishes he likes and they’ll set up a buffet. All I have to do is give him a final count the day before.”
“Are you doing the decorating yourself?” she asked.
“What decorating?” Jesse frowned.
“You know, in the room. At Lola’s. For the party.”
He had that deer-in-the-headlights look again.
“Like what?”
“Well, like flowers. And balloons,” she suggested.
“He’s going to be eighty-five. Do you think he’ll want balloons?”
“Everyone wants balloons. Wouldn’t you?”
He appeared to think it over. “I think I would.” He nodded. “Yes, I would like balloons. Remember that if you ever give me a party. Helium balloons. Lots of them.”
“That’s exactly what I had in mind.”
“Where do I get those?”
“Party store in the shopping center near the gas station,” she told him as she broke an egg into the bowl and beat it with a fork. “I got the ones for Logan’s birthday party there.” She paused. “I wonder if Steffie would have time to make an ice-cream flavor just for him.”
Hometown Girl: The Chesapeake Diaries Page 20
