Sweet Town Love

by Maggie Ryan

  “Don’t remind me!” She hurled the insult without abandon, regretting it only after it was too late.

  Jake’s face finally showed a smidge of emotion, contorting in shock and hurt. It passed quickly, and his eyes narrowed to slits. He made a twirling motion in the air with his finger, and she shook her head in denial.

  “Jake, no! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

  His face showed no change, and the action was repeated. She knew from experience that pleading would only make it worse.

  Squinting her eyes shut, she stood, walked slowly around the side of the table to stand in front of him, and turned so that her back was to him.

  His hand was hard and unforgiving, but this wasn’t a real spanking. That would come later. This was only, quite simply, what her stubborn husband referred to as an attitude adjustment.

  “Watch. Your. Self! No matter what you happen to think of me in the moment, I am your husband, and I’m a damn good one. Show me some respect!”

  Only three quick swats, but they were hard, and her bottom tingled as she walked away, tears pooling in her eyes. They weren’t at all from the pain of the spanking—those never made her cry, as she was simply too damn stubborn.

  His words on the other hand, that tangible disappointment, the pooling of remorse in her belly? That got her every single time.

  He grabbed her hand just before she got out of reach, and pulled her back to him, turning her body so that he saw her face. He didn’t mention the wetness in her eyes, or the fact that she didn’t look nearly as smug as she had two minutes ago. It wasn’t his style.

  “Do you have an idea of what you are going to sell at this store?” he asked hesitantly, his expression hopeful.

  It was the question she had been waiting for. She knew that the answer would make him smile, and he would see the same potential in the idea as she had. “Socks!” she exclaimed triumphantly, her excitement bubbling over as she waited for that smile she loved so much. The one that had so many years ago, had the instant power over her tears, and had melted her heart every day since.

  It never came.

  “Socks?” Jake didn’t even attempt to disguise his disgust.

  She gaped in shocked silence, waiting for him to remember. To smile, to laugh. To call her silly, pat her on the head and wish her luck. He didn’t.

  He stood quickly, and her eyes widened, wondering if he meant to spank her right then. Even worse, he stalked past her to the front door, not turning until his hand was on the knob and his foot was out the door. “I’m going for a walk.”

  Jolene stared blankly at him, unable to process his words until the door shut behind him. And then she fell to the floor in a heap, realizing that she was now in her worst pickle yet.

  All because of socks.

  “Hey, I know we’re in a cancer ward, and it’s not exactly Disneyland, but do you think you could cheer up a bit? We try to keep a positive attitude prevalent in here.”

  The smooth male voice was the sexiest she had ever heard, even in the movies, but Jolene didn’t bother to even look up to see if the face matched the fantasy. Ignoring him completely, she sobbed harder.

  She was inconsolable. She didn’t want to be here; she didn’t want to do this. She had never felt so alone in her life. It hadn’t helped when she had walked in and realized that every single sick person here had a chemo buddy—a not sick person whose sole reason for being here was as a source of encouragement. She had no one. There wasn’t even anyone in her life to tell she had cancer, other than the doctor who had diagnosed her, and the PR lady who had told her, upon the results of her physical that she was no longer eligible for the job.

  “Um, hon? Are you gonna be okay? Is there someone I can call for you?” A hand touched her leg at the knee, and the simple gesture of caring and human contact only caused her to sob harder.

  “Oh, sweetie.” The sadness in the voice matched her own. “It’s not really all as bad as it seems right now. I promise you that. We’re going to do your best to take care of you. But you have to help me out here. I need your name, so I can find your chart so we can get you all settled in and set up. Can you do that for me? Can you give me your name?”

  To this day she didn’t know what it was that made her stop crying and look up, but when she did—it was into the sweetest, most compassionate green eyes she had ever seen planted smack in the middle of a face that was hands down the sexiest she had ever laid eyes on.

  “Jolene,” she whispered through shaky sobs. “Jolene Marie Pearson.”

  And then he smiled. “Well, howdy, Jolene. I’m Jake Ryan. And it’s really important you remember that name. Because from here on out—we’re a team you and I—and our sole purpose in life is to kick cancer in the butt.”

  It was cheesy, it was corny—it was something one might say to a seven year old, but in that moment—it had been just the right thing to say.

  Jolene smiled, remembering. Jake was good at that. Knowing the right thing to say. It was what made him a good nurse, a good friend, and an even better husband. He always said the right thing. Until he didn’t.

  This time he hadn’t. Surely there had been more times, but she couldn’t think of one. Jake was perfect. He had known just the right thing to stop her cries that day, and even more, he had meant everything he said. From that day on, he had been more than her nurse. They had been a team. And they had kicked cancer’s butt. Together, just like he had promised they would.

  She looked sadly at the door, willing him to come back. He had never walked out on her before. And it was over socks of all things. Socks! The one thing she had thought he would understand.

  “Do you have a special blanket, or robe or something that I can get you to make you more comfortable.? Sometimes the chemo can make you feel cold.”

  She stared at him blankly, before looking around the room again, and it dawned on her. Everyone there had not only brought a friend—they had brought comfort item: books, games, blankets, iPods—something to make it seem like they were just enjoying a cozy afternoon, and take the focus off the fact that there was poison pumping through their veins. She could have used the distraction, but no one had told her, and what did she have anyway? Nothing. Her eyes welled up with tears once more and his face fell.

  “Okay, don’t worry. Tell me if you get cold and I’ll bring you one of the heated blankets we keep around, okay? Hey, no worries. Chin up. You can bring something from home tomorrow.”

  She nodded, not wanting to admit that she had nothing to bring and momentarily considered using the last little bit of her money to buy a soft fuzzy blanket for next week, just to keep up appearances, so this kind and sexy stranger wouldn’t know how bad off she really was. She didn’t need pity. She had gotten by in life thus far just fine.

  He began moving around her station, setting her up to begin the treatment, keeping up a stream of mindless chatter the entire time. He had a wonderful bedside manner, and was obviously well loved by everyone in the room. She could see why. Besides his looks, he was always ready with a smile, or a joke, and had a knack for making people forget why they were really here. He knew their names, their kids’ names, what they did for a living, and every other important thing going on in their lives.

  With nothing else to do, she had spent the entire four hours watching Jake move seamlessly around the room, making everyone feel special, and making sure they were all getting the correct treatment. Some were there for only thirty minutes—others for hours. They ranged in age from sixteen to late seventies, and they all had one thing in common—the big C. Some of them would beat the odds, some of them would not. Every once in a while, when nobody was looking, she would see Jake turn away from a patient with a sad look in his eyes. This job wore on him, but he never let them know.

  To this day she remembered being awed by his quiet strength and positive attitude—two qualities she still admired in him daily.

  She was the last one to leave that day. When he unhooked her from the machine, sh
e said nothing. Standing, she stretched, and carefully folded the blanket and set in on the end of the chair before walking out.

  He stopped her at the door. “Hey, Joey—see you next week. Same time, same place.”

  She paused and turned to him in confusion. “My name’s Jolene.”

  There it was again. That slow easy grin that started as a twitch in the corner of his mouth and eventually filled his face, displaying a perfect set of pearly whites that any dentist would envy. “Yeah I know. I like nicknames. And Joey suits you.”

  She blinked. What did she say to that? Nobody had ever bothered to give her a nickname before, and her reaction was instant and one she would have never seen coming. She smiled, a real smile, for the first time in what felt like weeks, and nodded smartly before walking out the door. Joey, Joey Joey. The word bounced around in her head like a mantra and she knew she would never be Jolene again.

  She never had. Not really. She had signed the name Jolene to her marriage license of course, and when she voted, but the only other time she heard it was when she was in trouble.

  She brought nothing but a tattered old notebook when she showed up the next week. Using a hospital blanket was certainly better than bringing a ratty one from the hotel room she rented out by the week. Jake greeted her at the door and pointed her to the same chair she had occupied the week before.

  “I’ve got your blanket ready to go for you.”

  She smiled, thanked him, and walked over, stopping short when she got there, wondering for a second if he had sent her to the wrong spot. In the center of the chair, perfectly folded, was an obviously brand new blanket, decorated in rainbow colors. A turned up corner revealed that the backside was a soft teal fleece. She stood and stared in confusion, beginning to back away. Turning abruptly, she ran smack into Jake, who reached out to steady her.

  “I-I think I went to the wrong spot.”

  “You didn’t.”

  Frowning, she turned and pointed. “That’s not mine.”

  “It is. My sister makes them. I thought you could use a fuzzy little rainbow today.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She realized that she sounded stupid, robotic, and ungrateful but she couldn’t help it. She was speechless, and lost in those green eyes. Nobody had ever given her anything without first giving her a guilt trip about it. And never anything so nice. “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome. Are you going to sit down now so we can get started?”

  Still in a trance, she sat, watching as Jake himself unfolded the blanket and laid it gently over the top of her soft side down, before moving over to the machine and consulting her chart as he took her vitals.

  “Oh! One more thing, before I forget,” he exclaimed after recording her blood pressure and temperature and tucking the chat into its slot on the wall near her head. He winked at her, and reached into his pocket, pulling out something bright and dropping it into her lap.”

  It was a small bundle, and upon close inspection she realized that it was wrapped. A wrapped present. Joey couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten a wrapped present, or a present at all for that matter. She turned it over in her hands carefully, swallowing the lump in her throat.

  “Open it,” Jake urged.

  She didn’t want to open it. She wanted to remember the moment, recording it in her mind for posterity, in case it never happened again, but Jake was staring at her expectantly like a child on Christmas morning.

  Taking a deep breath so she didn’t cry, she shot him a quick smile before peeling back a corner of tape. She unwrapped it as slowly as possible, half expecting it to be some sort of cruel joke. After all, why would he give her a present? He didn’t know. Couldn’t know.

  She peeled back the last little bit of paper and frowned as a rolled up ball of pink fabric fell into her lap.

  Jake, who obviously couldn’t understand her hesitation, kneeled on the floor next to her chair, and snatched them up, popping them apart into two separate balls. She could see now that the hot pink fabric was covered in some sort of brown design that she couldn’t make out from this angle.

  “My sister always swears that you can’t be sad for long if you’re wearing happy socks—and these ones made me think of you.”

  With a question in her eyes, she lifted one up for inspection. Kangaroos. The brown splotches were tiny kangaroos.

  “They’re joeys!” Jake explained with a laugh.

  She couldn’t hold back the tears, and she didn’t try as she kicked her feet out from under the blanket and peeled off her old hand me down tube socks. Jake didn’t comment as she rolled them into a ball and tossed them to the side, carefully rolling up the pink joey covered socks in their place.

  He had been right. All day, every time she caught a glimpse of her brightly covered feet, she couldn’t help but smile, and she knew in that instant that Jake had changed her life. She would never wear regular boring socks again. Just like she would never be Jolene again.

  Present day Jolene looked down at her feet and smiled. The socks she wore had been a gift from Jake—most of her favorites were. These ones were teal and covered in zoo animals, bought after her first trip to the San Diego zoo.

  The door opened behind her, and she jumped, her body filling with relief when he came into view. She wanted to run to him, press her body against his, and beg for forgiveness like she usually would, but she didn’t. He had walked out on her, and she was hurting too.

  Jake walked over to her first, extending his hand in a peace offering. Searching his eyes for answers, she saw the disappointment she had feared, but also compassion and amusement. She placed her hand in his upturned one, and his smile returned.

  “Soo…socks huh?”

  Chapter 2

  Her stomach was in knots as Jake’s big truck rolled to a stop in front of the shop on opening day. She suddenly felt sick, bile rising in her throat as she wondered what the hell she had been thinking. A business owner she was not.

  Drawing a deep breath to fortify herself, she turned to Jake, pleading with her eyes. Jake was her rock, her confidence when she wavered—he always knew just what to say in her moments of weakness.

  Not this time. Jake’s smile was weak, he looked almost as sick as she felt. “So, socks, huh?”

  That was when she lost it.

  She was boiling mad as she pulled the door open, and jumped out of the truck—not even bothering to speak until her feet were planted firmly on the sidewalk in front of her store. “Yes, Jake, socks. It was socks two weeks ago, three days ago and yesterday, and it’s socks today too! Spoiler Alert. It will also be socks tomorrow, and the next day and the day after that. You sound like a broken record and I’m tired of it!”

  His jaw hardened in shock—she never raised her voice to him like that. She watched in shame as his eyes darkened and narrowed—a look she was very familiar with, and one that would normally have her backtracking as fast as she could, while backing away with her hands behind her protecting her backside. Not today.

  Today, she moved in, leaning her body into the truck, and spoke in a tone that was low and firm. “I get it. You think my idea is stupid, and you’re butt hurt that I didn’t ask you before I jumped in full speed ahead. You’ve made your point again and again. But you know what, Jake? You chose not to spank me for it, and it nearly killed me. But it was your choice, and I respected it. But you know what? That doesn’t mean you get to hold it over my head every day. And it certainly doesn’t mean that you get to make me feel like shit on today of all days. I worked hard on this store, Jake. And I’m proud of that. And it means something to me. This isn’t about money. This is about spreading happiness, and cheer to people who need it—and if you of all people, can’t understand that, well then you’re not the man I thought you were.”

  Done with her rant, she shoved off the seat, stepping outside the truck and grabbing the door handle, fully intending to slam it shut before he had a chance to respond. But he was too fast. Before she was able he leaned across
the seat and braced his arm on the door—holding it open. He was stronger than her, of course.

  Glaring at him, she braced herself, determined that no matter what he said, she would not take it to heart. She had a store to open.

  “You’re right.” The words were spoken so softly she had to step closer to hear what came next. “I’m sorry. You have worked hard, and you should be proud of that. I’m just nervous. I want it to go well for you, and my attitude has been sabotaging that. Have a good day. I’ll be by on my lunch break to check it out.”

  She wanted to be mad still. She wanted to slam the door shut in his face, stomp into her store and spend the whole day proving every single one of his doubts wrong, just so she could rub it in his face today and every day that followed. She could tell from his knowing smirk that he knew exactly what she was thinking. He always did.

  “You just want to be mad for a while, huh?” he asked, quoting a lyric from one of her favorite country songs.

  Stubbornly, she nodded. She knew it was silly, but it had been weeks of tension. She wasn’t ready to play nice just yet, just because he finally was.

  “That’s fine, Joey. You go on in, and have a good day, and you go ahead and be mad for a while. You’re entitled. But let me be very clear, you will be over it when I get there this afternoon, or I’ll haul you into a back room and christen it with your pants around your ankles and my belt across your bottom, you hear me?”

  Her tummy flipped, and her whole body ached with want. Her body’s reaction only served to fuel her anger. Damn that man, and the sorcery he had over her. With only a sentence he had somehow managed to wipe out her anger, and she just knew she would be a gooey submissive pile of mush by lunchtime. Jake was too smart for his own good.

  Still, she had hours left, and she intended to milk every minute of them, torturing him as she herself had been tortured. Without a word of acknowledgement, she shut the door, careful not to slam it too hard or too soft, and stomped off to unlock the store. She was careful to add in an extra little shimmy as she walked. She knew he was watching her. He always did. Jake was a protector, and even if he were angry, he would not start the truck until she was safely inside with the door locked behind her until the store opened.