Whatever He Wants

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Whatever He Wants Page 13

by Bridgett Henson


  “To the kitchen.”

  The tiny galley kitchen wasn’t much bigger than the hall. “What are we looking for?”

  “This.” James reached around her and opened the dishwasher. “A new model. In pretty good shape.” He latched the door and wrinkled his nose. “I hate washing dishes.”

  The lady peeked around the corner. “Are we done here? I need to get back to the office.”

  James held up a hand and flashed his smile. “One more minute.”

  The lady nodded and said, “I’ll wait outside.”

  Joni turned back to James. He smiled down at her, waiting. “What?”

  “Do you like it?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a little small, but it’s clean and has all the necessities. I’m sure you and Isaac will make lots of memories here.”

  He caressed her cheek. “You know I’m on the road a lot.”

  She tilted her face upward. “Yes.”

  His arms looped about her waist. “Did I mention it’s fifteen minutes from campus?”

  She stared at the scarred linoleum. “James, we’ve been through this.”

  He tilted her chin up and flashed a boyish smile. “I’ll need someone to check my mail and keep an eye on the place. You could use a quiet place to study during the day.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. He wasn’t asking her to move in. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved. “You mean like Mrs. Addison did for the house?”

  His smile widened. “Yes, you’ll be the next Mrs. Addison.” He chewed on his bottom lip until a snicker escaped him.

  She laughed at the goofy grin on his face. “James, you’re horrible.”

  He tugged on her hand and walked past the lady out the door. “We’ll take it.”

  Chapter Ten

  James knocked on Joni’s backdoor at four Saturday morning. The Friday after Thanksgiving, she had abandoned him to shop with her friends. With apartment shopping, DNA testing and Thanksgiving, James had yet to hit the woods, and deer season had been in for a week. He’d missed opening day for Andrew’s party.

  Like a vision, she appeared in the entryway. He sucked in a whistle of admiration and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. Form-fitting jeans, tucked into knee-high boots, rode low on her hips. “Joni, you look beautiful, but…”

  Lifting one brow, he stepped into the warm house and closed the door. Heels? The flimsy knit hat and scarf wouldn’t stop the wind from slicing through her, and the white shirt had to go. A deer could spot her from three hundred yards away. “That’s not what I had in mind when I said old, warm clothes.”

  She propped a hand on her hip and looked down at her jeans. “What’s wrong with my outfit? You don’t like it?”

  The hurt in her eyes propelled him forward. He tucked her hair behind her ear and trailed his hand down her arm. Hooking a thumb in her belt loop, he tugged her close. “I love it.” His lips grazed hers once, twice. “But you’ll freeze when we get in the deer stand. And if you have a darker shirt? Several of them. Maybe some sweatpants to go over your jeans?”

  Her arms locked around his waist, but she shook her head. “I don’t need all that. I have a leather coat.”

  “He’s right.” At the sound of the deep masculine voice, James froze.

  She looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Good morning, Daddy.”

  Daddy? Oh, not good. James slowly stepped away from her. Through the blurred image on the stainless steel refrigerator, she kissed her father’s cheek. James was a grown man not a teenager picking up his prom date. He turned and held out his hand. “Mr. Maher.”

  “Call me Bill.” Her dad’s grip was firm but not tight. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” He scratched his bald head. “You know, Joni isn’t outdoorsy.”

  “Daddy…” Joni straightened her father’s flannel robe collar. Her dad was old, at least sixty. “We talked about this last night. Remember?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Mr. Maher turned his daughter toward the stairs. “Go change your shirt. Wear something green or brown.”

  She stopped on the bottom step and looked over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

  If she didn’t hurry they would be late. Mr. Maher shuffled over to the dining table and opened a canvas bag. “I dug through my old things. Afraid I don’t have any gloves.”

  “I bought her a pair.” Relieved she wouldn’t freeze, James sized up the camouflage coveralls in Mr. Maher’s hand. The orange vest wasn’t needed. He had a ton of them. “How do I convince her to wear these?”

  Mr. Maher’s slippered feet crossed the kitchen. “That’s your problem. Coffee?”

  “No sir, we really need to get going.” James glanced up the stairs. No Joni. He checked his watch and tapped his foot.

  Four thirteen.

  “You stalk hunting? You mentioned a deer stand.”

  James accepted the ceramic mug Mr. Maher thrust in his hand. “This morning. After lunch we’re running dogs.”

  “Keep her close to you. She’s never been in the woods. Her mother has spoiled her and Joni’s used to being pampered.”

  “Yes, sir.” James thought her mother locked Joni away from the world, but he was smart enough not to voice his opinion. The coffee was strong and hot. He burned his tongue as Joni descended the stairs.

  Her fuzzy green sweater hugged her curves and her sleepy smile beckoned him to her side. “I’m ready.”

  Mr. Maher cleared his throat behind him and squashed James’s desire for a kiss. He helped Joni with the leather coat and threaded his fingers through hers. “Let’s go.” He lifted the bag from the table on their way to the door.

  “Bye, Daddy.”

  “Have fun, honey.”

  In the truck, she shivered and he turned up the heater. “You’ve never been up this early before, have you?”

  Joni yawned and looped her arm through his, snuggling close. “Yesterday, when I went shopping with the girls.”

  He backed out of the drive and drove through the town of Daphne. “Joni?”

  “Yeah?”

  “How old is your father?”

  Her burst of laughter was interrupted by a second yawn. “Sixty-two.” The hand caressing his arm stilled. He glanced down into serious eyes. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” She shrugged against him. “But I’m scared you won’t like me.”

  He braked for a red light and turned toward her. “Don’t be ridiculous. Tell me.”

  “He’s not my biological father. The Mahers adopted me when I was six. They never had children.” Joni plucked at a loose thread on his denim sleeve.

  He didn’t know what to say. Her revelation explained her excessive need to fit in and why she let her mom and dad plan her life. The light turned green, but he didn’t drive through. Traffic was nonexistent at this hour anyway. He took his hand from the steering wheel and tilted her face up to his. “And?”

  She averted her eyes. “Well, there’s a stigma with being adopted. You know. Unlovable. Undesirable.”

  “Look at me.” Sadness lurked between her lashes. “If a woman gives birth to a child, she has to take what God gives her. Right?”

  She nodded.

  “You were chosen by the Mahers because you are lovable and desirable.” A car honked behind them. “But this is not the place to prove it to you.” The angry driver passed them on the shoulder. James accepted her kiss and drove through the yellow light.

  On the hour-and-a-half drive to the farm, they talked about everything and nothing. He tried to convince her to take a nap, but she refused, saying she was too excited to sleep. She did remove her coat and help him shrug out of his jacket after they turned north on Highway 43.

  ~~~

  Ten minutes seemed like hours with a full bladder on a bumpy road. Especially since Joni had drank too much orange juice. Pine trees towered on either side of the narrow, country road. “Is there a store nearby? I need to visit the ladies room.”

  “We’re almost there. Can
you wait ten minutes?”

  “Sure.” Joni avoided using public restrooms and hoped wherever they were going was clean. She leaned her head against James’s arm and dozed.

  A bump in the road woke her. He parked under a large oak tree next to a two-story farm house. A group of men stood on the wraparound porch drinking coffee in the pre-dawn light. She held tight to James’s hand as everyone welcomed James by slapping his shoulder, shaking his other hand, or calling him by name. He introduced her to half a dozen faces on the way to the front door. She would never remember them all.

  The screen door creaked as he held it open. The interior of the house was nothing like she imaged. Oriental rugs decorated the polished hardwood floors. Contemporary furniture invited Joni to make herself at home. The smell of bacon and coffee drifted from the kitchen, as well as voices she recognized.

  “Joni.” Aunt Sandra pulled her into a warm hug and bopped James on the head. “Why didn’t you tell us ya’ll were coming?”

  He stole a piece of bacon from the platter behind his aunt. “I didn’t know you’d be awake. We only came inside ‘cause Joni needs to use the bathroom.”

  “For goodness sakes. Men are so insensitive. Follow me, dear.” Joni smiled at Aunt Sandra’s chatter as she followed her to the top of the stairs. “It’s the second door on your right. Come on back to the kitchen when you’re done. I’ll fix you a thermos of coffee before James drags you out in the cold.”

  Thankfully, the bathroom was updated with the rest of the house, except for the antique claw-footed bathtub. She envisioned soaking in the deep water, bubbles up to the rim. The fluffy hand towel was trimmed in lace. She straightened it on the rack and made her way back to the kitchen.

  Aunt Sandra pressed a stainless steel thermos and a brown bag into her hands. “You better hurry outside, the natives are getting restless. Make James come back for lunch. We’ll talk then.”

  ~~~

  James reclined against the inside of the shooting house while Joni slumbered in his arms. Something wasn’t right. Despite their late arrival, they should have seen something by now. Does. Yearlings. Something. The grass patch in front of them was lifeless. His phone read eight thirty-two. He let Joni sleep for twenty more minutes before nudging her awake.

  “Hmm.” Like a kitten she stretched and yawned. “What time is it?” Her hand clamped over her mouth while her eyes laughed. Earlier, she’d made fun of his no-talking-while-hunting rule.

  He tugged her hand away from her face and whispered. “It’s okay. I’m gonna walk around some. Do you want to stay here?”

  Her eyes widened. “I’m going with you.”

  “Shhh.” James rolled his eyes as Joni pressed her lips in a fine line. He mouthed the words “Follow me.”

  How Joni’s dainty feet could make so much noise as she tromped along behind him he’d never know. He climbed the ridge and sat on a stump, waiting for her to catch up. She waddled up the hill in her giant coveralls. The bulky clothes gave her the appearance of a green abominable snowman. The orange hat she wore instead of the vest (because orange wasn’t her color) tilted to one side of her head.

  “Ooh!” She picked up an acorn and then a yellow oak leaf dripping with morning dew. A squirrel and a chipmunk played peek-a-boo around the tree trunk and Joni’s eyes lit up. A few paces later, she stopped for a hickory nut. Her pockets were bulging by the time she reached him. Her eyes must have met his boots, ‘cause she looked up and smiled.

  The early morning sun shone through the canopy of leaves overhead and dappled her golden hair as she twirled a red leaf between her fingers. She’d never been more beautiful. “Joni.” His eyes found hers. “I love you.”

  Cold smoke puffed out of her open mouth. “Here?” Her foot slipped and she reached for him.

  He pulled her up the ridge and down on his knee. “You’re supposed to say, I love you back.”

  Joni combed her fingers through his hair. “I have dreamed of those three words for weeks.” Her eyes glazed over. “We’d be walking down the beach with the moonlight at our backs and you’d hold me tight and whisper in my ear. Or I’d be wearing a new dress and you’d reach across a candlelit table for my hand. Your thumb would tickle my knuckles and your eyes would hold mine captive. But I never imagined I’d be wearing this green lump.” Her lips hovered above his. “Wait a minute.” Joni stood and shed her coveralls.

  He tilted his head as he looked over her jeans and tight shirt. “Nice.” He hooked his thumbs through her belt loops and pulled her close. “And?”

  “Even though you made me wear that quilted sack, I love you, James Preston.”

  “And I love you, Joni Maher. Even though you tromp through the woods in high-heeled boots, scaring away all the deer in four counties.”

  ~~~

  “Are you ready to go?” James held out his hand. “We should’ve been in the stand fifteen minutes ago.”

  Joni stood from the truck’s tailgate and brushed off her jeans. The prospect of sitting in a wooden shack twenty feet in the air wasn’t appealing, but she’d suffer through it to be with James.

  “Why don’t you stay here?” Beside her, James’s cousin shifted the baby in her arms. Shelby’s husband was one of the many hunters. “I need to go to town and you can keep me company.”

  Would James’s feelings be hurt if Joni didn’t go?

  He didn’t look like the thought bothered him. “It’s up to you. The game starts at seven. I’ll meet you back here then.”

  Joni reached up and kissed him. “Thank you. Shoot something for me.” She turned and followed Shelby to a small SUV. Her hand was on the passenger door when James jogged up beside her.

  “Hey.” He reached in his back pocket for his wallet. “Here. In case you want to do some shopping of your own.” He held out two hundreds.

  “I shouldn’t take your money.”

  He grinned and painted her lips with a kiss. “But you will. Buy us some snacks or whatever.” He looked at Shelby. “Drive careful.”

  Joni caressed the light stubble on his cheek. “You be careful, too.” His wink made her rethink the shopping trip, but he turned and crossed the yard before she could change her mind.

  At the grocery store, as she and Shelby debated over how many bags of chips the men would eat, Joni’s cell rang.

  It was Mrs. Preston. “Joni. Thank God I caught you.”

  Isaac’s cries rose in the background. She dropped the chips in the buggy. “Put him on.” The cries grew louder.

  Shelby stopped and stared at Joni. “What’s the matter?”

  Joni spoke softly into the phone. “Shhh, Isaac. It’s Joni. It’s okay. Don’t cry, sweetie. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Isaac sniffed. “Daddy left me.” Wails sounded again.

  “No, baby, James didn’t leave you. He’s with me. We had to leave early this morning and he didn’t want to wake you. Aren’t you having a good time with Grandma?”

  “No. I want my daddy.”

  She exhaled and paced the length of the aisle. “Okay, Isaac. Put her back on the phone and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Come get me. I don’t like Andrew anymore.”

  “I promise. Now put Grandma on.” She propped a boot on the buggy’s bottom rail and smoothed the homemade quilt around the infant seat. Shelby was an excellent mother.

  Mrs. Preston returned to the line. “Joni?”

  “What happened? Isaac isn’t a crybaby. Something upset him.”

  Shelby’s eyes widened and Joni regretted her harsh tone.

  “I’m not sure. He and Andrew had an argument at lunch and he’s cried for his daddy ever since. When James didn’t answer his phone, Isaac insisted I call you. I hate to interrupt your day, but even though I’m his grandmother…I’m a stranger to him. Oh dear, he’s packing his toys.”

  Joni heard the unspoken question. “We’re in the country. Right now, Shelby and I are in Jackson Walmart. It’ll take us twenty minutes to drive back to Aunt Sandra’s. James left
his phone in the truck. Hopefully, he left the keys as well.”

  Shelby touched her arm. “I’ll take you. The guys won’t be back for a while and the game’s not till seven. Holly nursed before we left the house. Her next feeding isn’t for two more hours.”

  “Are you sure?” Joni sighed with relief when Shelby nodded. “Mrs. Preston, can you meet us halfway?”

  “Is that café still there in Mount Vernon?”

  “Why don’t you and Shelby agree on a meeting place? Nothing around here is familiar.”

  ~~~

  The screen door screeched when he pulled it open. As a teenager he’d kept it well-oiled, but like many times, years ago when he’d tried to slip in the old farmhouse, his dad sat at the kitchen table with his open Bible. James closed out the cold night temperatures. “I need a place to sleep. Aunt Sandra kicked me out.”

  His dad removed his glasses. “Come in. As you like to remind me, it is your house.”

  James hung his jacket on the wooden coat rack. “I don’t want to fight, Dad. I just want a place to crash for a few hours.”

  “Where’s my grandson?”

  “Snuggled up with Joni in Shelby’s old room.” His boots clunked on the hardwood floor.

  “I see. Who’s Joni?”

  James sighed and crossed the kitchen. He filled a glass with water and guzzled it down. “Our girlfriend.”

  His dad closed the Bible and grinned. “Oh, yeah? Is she pretty?”

  James couldn’t stop his smile. “She’s beautiful. You’ll probably see her at church tomorrow.” He placed the glass in the dishwasher. “Don’t look surprised. It’s not my fault Joni likes church.”

  “No, I guess not.” His dad’s smile grated on James’s nerves. “You want me to wake you for Sunday school in the morning?”

  “I’ll be in the woods by then.” James ran a hand through his hair. He put one foot on the bottom stair and turned back. “Goodnight, Dad.”

  “Goodnight, Son.”

  As luck would have it, the next day was Fellowship Sunday, with dinner served on the grounds. James glanced at the broken plastic fork sticking out of Joni’s fried chicken breast.

  She cleared her throat and smothered a giggle, but he knew the reason for the laughter in her eyes. She nudged her plate a quarter of an inch toward him.

  He shook his head. No way was he fixing her chicken with his family watching.

 

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