The Will

Chapter Nine Alas

The next day, I drove up the lane to see only Jake’s truck in the drive, Jake in the back of the bed arranging boxes.

Boxes of Gran’s clothes.

I swallowed as I brought my car to a halt behind his truck.

That morning, Jake had called me and suggested that it might be less traumatic for me if I wasn’t around when he and the guys were working.

This was a kind suggestion (as Jake, I’d learned, was very kind) and thus I’d agreed. I then phoned Mr. Weaver to ask if he wanted to spend some time in the office, even though it was a Sunday, and I could come over and sit with Mrs. Weaver.

He’d taken me up on the offer, so as Jake suggested, I was out of the house by the time he came. Before I’d left, I’d taken the time to write out detailed notes and tape them to pieces of furniture, lamps and knickknacks that I remembered used to make up the den but had been disbursed throughout the house so Jake’s “boys” could put them where they were supposed to be.

I’d also left money so Jake could order pizza.

Now, it was after one in the afternoon and he was the only one left.

I watched as he jumped down from the bed of his truck as I got out of my rental car, slammed the door and moved to him. I did this thinking that he could even jump down from a truck in a way I found attractive. I also did it thinking that everything about Jake Spear was attractive, most especially the entirety of his gallant and candid behavior the night before, not to mention his being amusing and thoughtful.

“What’s shakin’, Slick?” he called on a grin, making his way to me.

At his words, I stopped thinking of Gran’s clothes in those boxes, grinned back and stopped close to him. “I’m uncertain how to answer that since nothing’s shaking, Jake.”

His grin spread into an attractive, white smile.

Then he did it. Reaching up a hand, he slid it along the side of my neck to the back, pulling me gently forward so he could move in and kiss my forehead.

I would vastly prefer he kiss me somewhere else, felt this desire sweep through me with almost the strength it had the night before when he performed the same maneuver, and felt it equally difficult to quash the impulse to tip my head back to give him a different target.

I managed it, but when he pulled away, he did something different than he had last night.

He slid his hand from the back of my neck to cup my jaw and kept his face close.

“It’s all done,” he said quietly.

I nodded.

“You wanna see?”

I nodded again.

He let my jaw go (alas), but caught my hand and pulled me to the house.

We made it to the door of the den and I felt something different sweep through me when I looked in to see that it appeared much like it had for the years prior to Gran making it her bedroom. There were a few things put in the wrong places and there was some adjusting of the furniture that needed to be done.

But mostly, it was as it should be.

And in seeing it, I felt relief.

Therefore, staring at it, I whispered, “Thank you, Jake.”

He turned my way with a tug of my hand indicating he wanted my attention so I turned to him as well.

He kept hold of my hand and my eyes when he informed me gently, “Got a couple boxes of stuff that wasn’t clothes. Put them in her bedroom upstairs. What I got in the truck is just her clothes, like you asked. I’ll take it to Goodwill. That’s done. You take your time with the rest of her stuff, but you need me around when you do it, just call.”

I was wrong.

Jake wasn’t kind.

He was generous, selfless and tenderhearted. He loved Gran too. This couldn’t be easy for him.

“I don’t know how—” I began but he interrupted me not only with a squeeze of my hand but also with words.

“Think we established you don’t need to say or do shit. Like I said, this is done. Move on, honey.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded.

He kept speaking.

“Now, boys had pizza and I cleaned up the boxes, the paper plates. Your trash was overflowing so I took it out.”

Generous.

Selfless.

Tenderhearted.

Jake.

“Would you like to stay for a beer or something?” I offered, trying not to sound hopeful and luckily succeeding.

He shook his head, giving my hand another squeeze.

“I’d love to hang but Amber’s lookin’ after Ethan while Con’s at work so I need to get home so she can continue to sulk in her room by herself and not bug Eath with that shit.”

I nodded.

He continued speaking.

“We’ll be over tomorrow night at six. Cool?”

“Yes, Jake, erm…cool,” I agreed.

He again grinned on another squeeze of my hand. He then leaned in and gave me another kiss on the forehead.

He moved back this time without touching me further (alas), kept grinning at me for a moment before he said, “Later, babe.”

“Um…yes. Later.”

He winked, my stomach dipped then he let me go and he was gone.

Alas.

* * * * *

Twenty-five minutes after the Fletchers left after dinner that evening, my mobile rang.

I moved quickly to it and even more quickly took the call when I saw on the display who was calling.

“Jake,” I greeted.

“Yo, Slick,” he replied. “How’d dinner go with the Reverend and his missus?”

At his words, I went still.

Good God, he was calling simply to talk.

That felt nice.

Very nice.

It felt so nice I smiled at the phone and moved to the kitchen to put the kettle on to make a cup of tea. “It was quite enjoyable. He’s a very interesting man and she’s delightful. They both cared a good deal for Gran. It felt lovely having them here.”

“That’s good, babe.”

I put the kettle on the burner and asked, “How’s Amber?”

“No clue seein’ as she’s only come out of her room once since I got home and that was to grab a plate of dinner and disappear in it again.”

“Oh dear,” I murmured.

“Usually,” he went on, “I’d get on her ass about shit like that but we eat in front of the TV so it isn’t like she’s missin’ a big family dinner. She’s also never been a big fan of football, she’s dedicated to her moping so if she’s there, the boys and I can enjoy the game.”

He enjoyed football. This shouldn’t have been a surprise considering he’d been an athlete in his past. However, it caused me some concern although I didn’t know why. I didn’t enjoy sport, none of it, and spent no time on it. Not since having to do so when I lived with my father. And furthermore, Jake and I would be nothing but friends so it wouldn’t matter that I didn’t share his enjoyment of a certain pastime.

It still caused me concern.

I thought this.

I said out loud, “Of course.”

“I’ll give her today. Tomorrow, she’s gonna have to pull her head out of her ass.”

“I don’t envy you having to manage that situation,” I told him.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice on that one syllable shaking with what sounded like humor. “I don’t envy me either.”

This made no sense. Of course he wouldn’t envy him.

I didn’t point that out.

I shared, “Jean-Michel has replied to my email about Amber so perhaps tomorrow evening when I share his reply with her, it might brighten her up a bit.”

“I’m guessin’ from her reaction last time, that’ll do the trick.”

I smiled again, pleased I could do something that would please Amber.

“Okay, babe, gonna let you go. Con just came in with Ro-Tel dip so it’s time to eat until we’re sick and watch the second half of the game.”

At his words, I felt my brows draw together.

“Ro-Tel dip?”

“Ro-Tel dip,” he repeated then explained. “Dump a can of Ro-Tel on a cake of Velveeta, nuke it, stir it, nuke it more until it’s smooth and then eat the fuck outta that shit usin’ corn chips.”

I had no idea what Ro-Tel was but the very mention of Velveeta turned my stomach. Velveeta assumed the guise of cheese but I knew cheese and I enjoyed nearly all varieties of cheese and Velveeta wasn’t that. It made me squeamish even to look at it.

That said, this made me think seeing as I’d never actually tasted it. And thinking this, it occurred to me that I was making a judgment without knowing of which I spoke.

This made me just like those youngsters who refused to eat food they couldn’t know they didn’t like. And thus I decided to buy some Velveeta and make a proper assessment.

On that thought, it occurred to me that it was after eight thirty. I would assume the children would need to go to bed at a decent hour since they had to go to school the next day. And it made sleep difficult to eat before it. What were they doing eating again?

I said nothing of any of this.

Instead, I said, “Then I should allow you to get back to the game.”

“Next Sunday, you should come over.”

My entire body went warm, not with enthusiasm of watching football and definitely not the possibility that I’d face this Ro-Tel dip, but being with Jake and his boys doing, well…anything.

“I’d enjoy that,” I replied.

“It’s a date,” he declared. “See you tomorrow, Slick.”

And there it was again.

Slick.

This being something I decided the night before that I not only liked but very possibly loved. There was a familiarity in it, also humor, definitely (for, I could see, in his eyes I was indeed “slick”), and there was an intimacy.

The former two, I liked.

It was the last I very possibly loved.

Of course, I didn’t share that either.

I said, “See you tomorrow, Jake.”

“See you tomorrow, Josie!” I heard shouted in a distant way through Jake’s phone but it wasn’t Jake shouting it, it was Ethan.

And again, my body warmed.

“Please tell Ethan I look forward to seeing him again,” I requested to Jake.

“I’ll tell him, babe. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, Jake.”

“Bye, Josie.”

“Good-bye.”

Then he disconnected and thus was gone.

Alas.

* * * * *

The doorbell rang and I hurried down the hall.

It was six oh two.

Jake and the children were there.

I’d made an effort with my appearance not only because I normally made an effort with my appearance but because I would be meeting Conner, something I anticipated all day (as with anticipating seeing Ethan and Amber again, but mostly Jake), but also something that made me vaguely nervous.

I didn’t understand precisely why but, reflecting on it, it occurred to me that a son could be very like his father. And as Jake was thoughtful, generous, selfless and tenderhearted, his son may be the same. And being thus, he could be protective of his family, of my Gran, and I reflected on Gran and was spending time with his family.

What a seventeen-year-old boy thought of me was not something I would ever imagine would cause me concern. I hadn’t felt the same way about Ethan and Amber.

Then again, I didn’t know Jake as well then. Now I knew Ethan and Amber liked me. And I most certainly knew I liked Jake.

Therefore, I felt it necessary to win Conner.

This meant I was in casual clothing again but my brand of casual. Jeans. A blousy thistle-colored sweater that fell off my shoulder, narrowed in at my waist in ribs and hugged me there down to mid-hip. And finishing this ensemble were simple smoky-gray suede pumps with graceful, four-inch stiletto heels.

I took a breath, smiled and opened the door.

The instant I did, I was accosted by the exact vision I’d had some days before…almost.

Jake looking handsome (this time in a v-neck sweater and I could see the collar of his t-shirt under it at his neckline). Ethan wearing a hoodie this time, but it also declared his devotion to some sports team. Amber, her makeup a bit less heavy, but her outfit no less inappropriate, looking sullen and standing removed.

Then there was Conner, far more handsome up close, wearing nearly the same garments as his father except his sweater was crewneck. And last, he was surveying me closely.

I swallowed.

“Josie!” Ethan cried, dashed forward and gave my waist a hug.

I put a hand to his shoulder and looked down at the top of his head, which was all I got in before he jumped back and looked up at me.

“Hey!” he greeted.

But he allowed me to say not a word as he dashed by me and into the house.

“Babe,” Jake murmured as he came close and then he came closer.

Putting a hand to my hip, his fingers squeezed as he bent in and I got no kiss on the forehead this time. I was assaulted by his alluring cologne and the onslaught didn’t stop there. He slid his stubbled cheek down mine and brushed his lips right in front of my ear.

With a grave amount of effort, I controlled the shiver that was threatening to shake through me at his touch and simply smiled at him, whispering, “Jake,” when he moved back.

He returned my smile before he shuffled me in.

Amber and Conner came with him and after he closed the door, he again touched my hip with his hand and introduced, “Josie, meet my boy, Conner.”

I looked up at Conner, smiled and offered my hand. “Conner, I’ve heard such good things about you. It’s a pleasure.”

“Seriously?” he asked oddly in return and I blinked.

“Well, um…of course I’m serious,” I answered.

His face spread into a very attractive smile before he moved in and wrapped me in a tight hug.

I stood there, frozen, arms down at my side, not knowing what to do with myself but unable to do anything because he was quite strong, his body cool from the out of doors but still it warmed me and his hug felt more than nice.

Like his younger brother, he showed his affection easily but it was brief.

Thus, he moved back and looked down at me. “Heard a lot about you from Lydie and then Ethan. Really cool to meet you.”

“I…well, yes. Good,” I stammered then drew in breath to pull myself together and I looked at Amber.

“Hello, Amber,” I greeted.

Her shoulders slumped, her eyes moved beyond me and she muttered, “’Lo.”

I continued to look pointedly at her and stated, “If you’ll promise not to mutter, mumble or murmur another word this evening, I’ll show you what Jean-Michel sent me. And, before you decide whether or not to agree to this arrangement, I’ll share that Jean-Michel was rather taken with your image and he went well beyond dashing off a few recommendations.”

Her eyes had cut to me as I spoke.

So I held them and finished, “Well beyond”

“He did?” she whispered.

“Indeed,” I replied.

“He was taken with my image?” She was still whispering.

“How this could be a surprise, I have no idea since I’ve already told you that you’re very attractive.”

She also held my eyes before hers darted to where her father was standing next to me then they darted back to me.

“I guess I can make that deal,” she agreed.

“Excellent,” I replied and started moving toward the kitchen, feeling the eldest members of the Spear family following me. “I’m eager to show you what he’s done,” I went on and entered the kitchen.

“Beer, Dad!” Ethan for some reason shouted even though he was at our side of the butcher block and thus his father was no further than five feet away.

“Thanks, bud,” Jake replied.

“Ethan, after Amber and I go over a few things, I’ll be making hollandaise sauce from scratch. I’d appreciate your assistance,” I said to him and his face lit up.

“I don’t know what hollandaise sauce is but…cool!” he replied.

“Hollandaise sauce is delicious, but it’s also tricky,” I shared. “It’ll need constant vigilance.”

“I don’t know what vigilance is either but I’m up for whatever that is too,” he told me.

“It means you gotta keep an eye on it, Eath,” Jake explained, moving further into the room.

“I can do that,” Ethan told his father.

I looked to Conner and announced, “This will be poured over asparagus. I would find it most gratifying if you’d at least try it.”

His lips quirked for some reason and he replied, “Sure.”

I nodded then moved to the kitchen table, calling, “Amber. Come.”

I felt her following but when I stopped at the table, Amber stopping beside me, I looked to Jake who was drinking from his bottle of beer and standing beside Ethan at the butcher block. I was not surprised to see that Conner had his head in the fridge.

I addressed Jake when he’d finished drinking. “Today, I went to the electronics store and purchased a printer and desktop. I also set it up.”

A slow grin spread on his lips, that grin spreading on me as it did, and I fought the feeling that gave me with great difficulty when Jake teased, “Congratulations, Slick.”

I felt my lips curl up as I shook my head once and continued.

“I also called the cable company. Gran has cable but no internet access. They can switch that on but need access to the house to install outlets.”

“Right,” he prompted, still grinning at me and I was still fighting my reaction when I sallied forth.

“These errands reminded me that I’m paying for a rental car and I decided I should see to that. I’ll need transport while I’m here and I don’t need to pay the exorbitant costs of a rental to have it. I inspected Gran’s car and not only does it not start, it’s not my style. I’ll need to trade it in when I purchase another vehicle but I can’t do that if I can’t get it started.”

Something shifted in his face at my words and I didn’t fully understand it except for the fact that it was good.

“Con and I’ll go out and have a look at the Buick while you and Ethan make hollandaise sauce,” Jake offered.

“I’d appreciate that,” I accepted. “But I must ask another favor as I’ve only once purchased a car and it was an unpleasant experience. It’s my understanding that car salesmen take men more seriously than women and as you’re rather large and known locally as a pugilist, if you would accompany me, I would assume they would not take advantage. I know it’s a good deal to ask, but—”

Jake didn’t let me finish.

“Whenever you’re ready, let me know. I’m there.”

He was there.

It seemed he was always there in ways that mattered.

And I liked that.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

“Whatever you need, Josie,” he replied just as quietly.

I felt my eyes get soft. I also felt something else and thus I looked through the kitchen to see Ethan smiling up at his dad, Conner’s gaze moving between his father and me, his face speculative, and when I finally got to her, Amber was also looking at her father and her face was a mirror of her older brother’s.

This prompted me to turn my attention to her.

“Amber,” I called and she looked to me. “Let’s go over what Jean-Michel did for you.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

I turned to the table and opened the folder where I’d placed what I’d printed out that Jean-Michel had sent me. I’d had to connect my phone to the computer to get the images on paper and this was what sent me to the electronics store.

But when I opened the folder, I heard Amber gasp.

And it was with delight.

I liked that sound so much more warmth swept through me as I reached out, grabbed her hand and tugged carefully to pull her close.

“As you can see, Jean-Michel sketched your face and also different features so he could focus on them,” I told her quietly, flipping the page over to show her the next image. “On each sketch, he’s written instructions and suggested products and shades.”

I flipped the next page, looking at her to see she was looking down with rapt attention at the images.

“Once your grounding is over, if your father will allow it, we’ll journey to the mall and I’ll purchase some of these products for you,” I offered.

When I did, she tore her gaze from Jean-Michel’s sketch of her eye, shaded beautifully in a matte palette of browns and greens, and she looked at me in wonder.

And I wished I’d had a camera so I could show her how much more attractive she looked with marvel lighting her features rather than petulance.

“Seriously?” she asked (this word, I thought, but did not share at that juncture, being overused by the Spear family).

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“But,” she looked down at the sketch then back to me, “I know those products and they don’t come cheap.”

“A birthday present,” I stated.

“But my birthday was months ago,” she replied.

“A belated one,” I amended.

“I would so love that,” she whispered and her pretty face said this was very true.

“Excellent,” I returned. “However, I’ll tell you now that offer has a caveat and that is that you continue to speak distinctly, no muttering, and you utilize these products as Jean-Michel suggests, not fall back to your flair for the dramatic.”

I had considered getting into her attire with this offer and that was to say requesting that she cease dressing like a budding rather inexpensive escort but I didn’t want to push too hard too soon.

Alas, at my words, her face turned guarded and she asked, “Are you bribing me with makeup?”

“Absolutely,” I confirmed.

She stared at me and did this for some time.

I waited patiently, holding her stare.

Suddenly, she burst out laughing.

I relaxed but did so noting that laughing, she was even prettier.

Her eyes moved to her father and she declared, “You know, Dad, I’d probably be less of a pain in your ass if you bribed me with expensive kickass makeup.”

I looked to Jake, who had a warm expression on his face and his eyes on his daughter.

His lips were turned up when he said, “Noted.”

Although I very much liked the warm look on Jake’s face, I still took that moment to lament that I hadn’t included curtailing the use of swear words in my bribe.

“So, can I go shopping with Josie?” Amber asked her father.

Jake moved our way. “After you’re done being grounded, knock yourselves out.”

I smiled delightedly.

Jake turned his warm look to me.

I kept my smile pinned to my face even as I fought another shiver.

Jake moved and stopped close to me, very close, a familiar, intimate close I liked very much, before he stated, “Need the keys to the Buick, Slick.”

“On the counter by the phone,” I told him.

He didn’t move there. He stayed close, held my gaze and at the look in his eyes, the look I’d seen the first time I had dinner with his family, I fought yet another shiver.

“Got ‘em, Dad,” Conner called.

“Right,” Jake murmured, not tearing his eyes from me.

I began to struggle with my breathing.

This struggle intensified when he leaned in and whispered in my ear, “You’re the shit, Slick.”

These words meant nothing to me except for the way he said them, which I found in that moment meant everything.

“I’m assuming that’s good?” I asked and he pulled back but in a way that his face stayed close.

“You’d assume right.”

At his closeness and what it was doing to my breathing pattern, I had to force my smile, but I managed it.

He smiled back but, alas, he turned and moved away.

“Let’s go,” he said to Conner.

“Can we make the sauce now, Josie?” Ethan asked me. “I’m freaking starved.”

“Of course,” I replied, looked to Amber to see her attention back to the sketches, turning the pages (there were many, Jean-Michel had been very generous with his time and talent), studying them intently. “As you can see,” I started quietly and she turned her eyes to me. “You are very pretty, Amber. Very.” I stressed and that marvel again suffused her face as I carried on in a whisper. “Don’t hide that, lovely girl. Give us a treat and show it to the world.”

Her lips parted and I reached out a hand to touch the back of hers before I decided to leave her be and move to Ethan.

* * * * *

“Stop right there!” I demanded.

It was after dinner and we’d retired to the family room to watch TV.

At dinner, Conner had attempted to eat his asparagus but it was evident by the look on his face whenever he took a bite that he did this to be polite (which I thought was quite nice and said good things about him). However, as he wasn’t enjoying it, I informed him he didn’t have to force it down at the same time making a mental note to try broccoli on him when they were again dining at Lavender House.

Now, Ethan was on the floor at the coffee table doing homework. Amber was sitting in an armchair, having told us (what I thought was suspiciously) that her homework was already done. And Conner was somewhere else in the house having taken a call from one of his “babes” (this, strangely, got him a pointed look from his father to which Conner mouthed, “I know,” before disappearing from the room).

I was sitting next to Jake on the couch, a place he had put me by seating himself and grabbing my hips when I got close in order to use them to plant me beside him.

Although I obviously preferred to select my own seat, there was something about his actions (not to mention my location) that I liked more.

A great deal more.

Amber was in control of the remote and she’d just happened upon a show I much liked.

At my command, she paused it at the same exact time Jake rumbled, “Babe, we are not watchin’ Project Runway.”

“No way!” Ethan put in his vote.

But I’d turned my head to Jake. “But we must. This show is excellent. I’ve seen it several times before and it’s marvelous.”

Jake held my eyes as he replied, “Josie, no reality show is marvelous.”

I felt my brows draw together as I informed him with authority, “It’s not reality. It’s fashion.”

“I so am seeing how Josie being around is gonna be way cool,” Amber stated at this juncture and I looked to her. “Another chick in the mix means reruns of Project Runway and no Monday Night Football.”

Amber’s comment pleased me greatly thus I turned my head back to Jake and smiled, whereupon he declared, “We were gonna miss the beginning so we’re tapin’ the game at home. My boys and me can watch it later. But now, we should watch something we all wanna watch.”

“Yeah,” Ethan agreed.

I had a feeling that the divide between what Amber and I would wish to watch and what Jake and Ethan (and Conner, when he returned from his discourse with his “babe”) would want to watch was such that it would be impossible to traverse.

But, I wasn’t dwelling on this.

I simply wanted to watch Project Runway.

To make this happen, I leaned into Jake and spoke cajolingly.

“Jake, you don’t understand. What they do on this show is remarkable. An artist is inspired by many things but they’re normally free to be inspired by whatever moves them. On this show, they’re given the inspiration they must utilize and it’s most difficult to create under those kinds of conditions. And they have an impossibly short time to come up with a vision and the period in which they have to create the actual garments is, well…nearly criminal.”

Jakes brows lifted as his full lips quirked and he asked, “Criminal?”

“Indeed,” I answered with the utmost seriousness. “And Tim Gunn is exceptionally talented. He has an eye the likes I’ve never seen and I’ve worked in fashion for twenty-three years. Not to mention, his manner is most appealing and his ability to communicate with emotion, candor and diplomacy is a marvel. He in and of himself is worth watching that show. However, the judges are quite savvy as well and their commentary is most illuminating.”

Jake was losing the fight with his smile and I was hoping losing the will to deprive Amber and me of our program so I leaned closer to him to continue beseeching.

But as I did so, Amber spoke.

“Oh my God,” she breathed and I looked to her. “It just hit me. Do you know Heidi or Zac?”

My head tipped to the side in confusion. “Zac?”

“Zac Posen,” she replied. “He took over for Michael Kors.”

“My goodness,” I whispered with delight. “Zac Posen is on the show now?”

“Yeah. And he rocks,” Amber told me.

This I just had to see.

Therefore, I whipped my head around to Jake and shared, “Zac Posen is immensely talented. This is most intriguing. The loss of Michael Kors is a blow but I’m very interested to see what Posen contributes to the show.”

And in order to fully communicate my point, I leaned in on my “very” and added putting my hand to his chest in entreaty.

When I was done speaking, I saw his eyes had warmed and I sensed I was going to get my way so I felt a variety of places warm on me, including my heart.

He proved me right when he murmured, “We’ll watch your show, baby.”

I smiled big.

Jake’s eyes dropped to my mouth.

Ethan exclaimed in outrage, “Dad!”

Jake looked to his son. “It’s an hour, Eath. You’ll live.”

“It’s an hour and a half,” Amber contradicted.

“Jesus,” Jake muttered, the dread in that one word unmasked and I curiously found this most amusing.

Thus, I smiled at him again.

His eyes dropped to my mouth again, another area of my body warmed and it wasn’t my heart.

“Right on!” Amber cried. I forced my eyes from Jake and looked to her. “So,” she pressed. “Do you know Zac or Heidi?”

“Alas, no,” I replied and her face fell. “Henry has, of course, taken photos of Heidi so I have spoken to her people but he did the shoot while I was at another location, preparing for him to film a video. Though, I was once at a party with Nina Garcia. But I got a headache and had to leave before I was able to meet her.”

“Bummer,” Amber mumbled.

It was. I’d quite looked forward to meeting Ms. Garcia.

I let Amber’s mumble go and settled in, turning my gaze to the TV, ordering, “Let’s begin, Amber.”

“Cool,” she said and hit the button on the remote.

I was watching carefully as they were showing scenes from the episode before since I wanted to catch up as best I could. That said, it was far from lost on me that Jake’s arm went along the couch behind me and directly curled around my shoulders so he could pull me into his side.

He was warm, the position was comfortable and in order to make it warmer and more comfortable, I leaned into him and lifted my legs to the couch at my side to curl even closer.

At this point, Conner joined us and when he did, he murmured, “What the hell? Seriously? Project Runway?”

“Shush!” Amber hissed (before I could).

I lifted my eyes to Conner to see he was not looking at the TV in disgust but at his father and I curled on the couch together and he was again doing this with speculation. His eyes moved to Amber but I was missing the show so I moved my gaze back to the TV.

Jake slouched into the couch, lifting his booted feet to the coffee table and pulling me closer.

I settled in, placing my cheek to his chest with a sigh.

And I watched Project Runway with Jake’s family, liberally conversing with Amber through it, doing this to share our opinions and commentary and surprisingly (and gratifyingly) always agreeing.

In the end, when the designer we wanted to win won, and the one who (alas) produced an unusual outfit that didn’t quite hit the mark that Amber and I both agreed should be dismissed was dismissed, she and I shared a harmonious smile.

And that warmed me too.

* * * * *

“Give us a second,” Jake ordered, grabbing my hand and moving us away from the car salesman.

It was afternoon the next day and I’d decided on a car.

A car, I could tell as I studied his profile while he was moving us away from the salesman, that Jake didn’t agree on.

He stopped us out of hearing distance and kept hold of my hand as he turned his body to face me.

“Babe, you’re not buyin’ that car.”

I blinked up at him. “But Jake, it’s a nice color.”

He stared down at me and if I was reading him correctly, it was with disbelief.

“And it’s inexpensive,” I continued, even though the cost was not really a concern.

This I’d shared with Jake earlier, which meant we’d already been to the Porsche, Lexus and Cadillac dealerships before we stopped by this used dealership on my whim. That whim being me seeing the car we just test drove in the lot and crying out, “Let’s stop here!”

Jake, being Jake, had swung into the lot.

“It’s cheap because it’s a year old and has sixty thousand miles on it,” he stated.

“Is that a lot?”

He stared at me another moment before he shook his head, looked at his boots then looked back at me. “Yeah. It’s a lot,” he told me. “That kind of mileage means its first owner drove the fuck outta it. Which, before you ask, is not good.”

“Oh,” I murmured.

“Since you can afford it, you’re gettin’ the Cayenne,” he declared.

I had to admit, the Cayenne was very luxurious and the ride was exceptionally smooth.

Even so, I noted, “It’s my understanding that purchasing a new car means that when you drive it off the lot, it loses a good deal of value.”

“You wanna sell it in a month or a year, that’s a problem,” he replied. “You buy a Porsche, though, it’s a high-performance vehicle, any problem you have will be down the road and I mean way down the road and it’ll likely be about wear and tear and nothin’ else. It’ll be solid. It won’t cause you any headaches. And you can probably own it for twenty years and not have to deal with shit except regular maintenance.”

I had no idea what my future held, I just knew it held Lavender House and Magdalene. And thus, when there, I would need reliable transport. And it was highly unlikely I’d wish to engage in the onerous activity of car shopping again in six months, a year or even ten of them.

“And it’s black,” he went on and I focused again on him. “Black is hot. That Cayenne in black is hotter. You in anything, even a mini-van, would be hot. That’s just you. You in that Cayenne…” he paused and grinned big, “Smokin’.”

“I’ll get the Cayenne,” I agreed immediately.

“Good call, Slick,” he approved, grinning bigger.

I grinned back.

He then moved us toward his truck, his hand still in mine, as he turned his head and called to the salesman, “Thanks for your time.”

The salesman’s face fell.

Jake bleeped the locks on his truck, took me directly to the passenger side door and opened it for me. He also helped me up. He got behind the wheel and we started the twenty-mile drive back to the Porsche dealership.

As with everything Jake gave me, his time that afternoon had been generous.

Therefore, I remarked into the cab, “For your assistance this afternoon, I think I owe you and your family another dinner.”

“Babe, after last night’s salmon and sautéed potatoes and that un-fucking-believably good hollandaise sauce followed by homemade tiramisu, I’m not gonna say no. But just sayin’, I like bein’ with you so I got a shot at that, I’m gonna take it even if it means drivin’ all over the county, lookin’ at cars and dealing with car salesmen. So you don’t owe me shit.”

I had ceased breathing when he said he liked being with me.

It must be said, I also liked being with him. A great deal. And every time I was with him, I liked it more.

Alas, I liked it in a way he didn’t like it.

Regardless, I had liked being with Henry for years in a way Henry didn’t like and I’d lived.

I could do it again.

It wouldn’t be easy and the more I got to know Jake (and his family), the less easy it became.

But my only alternative was not having Jake (and his family) and I already knew in the short time that I knew all of them that would be worse.

So I would do it, no matter how not easy it was.

For as long as I could do it.

“Though, pointing out, my boys and I could do without Project Runway. Watchin’ that shit meant Ethan paid attention to his homework and not the TV but I think it nearly killed Conner.”

I grinned at the windshield at his quip and offered, “Next time, Amber and I’ll watch it on a set in another room.”

“Strike that, you watch it on a set in another room, you aren’t on the couch with me so I’ll put up with Project Runway.”

My grin got wider.

Yes, he liked being with me.

And I liked that.

A great deal.

We drove to the Porsche dealership in Jake’s truck.

I drove back to Lavender House in a new black Cayenne with Jake trailing after Jake drove a hard bargain.

For me.

* * * * *

The next afternoon, to turn my mind from Eliza Weaver and the alarmingly quick devastation her disease was causing, I left their house when Mr. Weaver came back from the office.

I got in my new Cayenne and backed out of their driveway with my phone in my hand.

When I was on my way, my next destination was the mall. This was not because I was running out of clothes (I flew first class and thus could have more than the normal allotted luggage, but even so, I knew how to pack and was always prepared for anything) but because I needed a different kind of clothing.

I also needed to make my daily call to Henry.

The ones for the last several days had been rushed and short, mostly because he had little time to give to me. That said, I’d made them and he seemed to be mollified.

So I made today’s call on the go and multi-tasking.

“Josephine,” he greeted with a smile in his voice.

“Hello, Henry,” I replied with one in mine as well since I was smiling.

“How are you, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Fine,” I answered. “Busy. There’s much to do. As I said I would do, I did manage to buy a new car yesterday, which is good. That said, the search for it and paperwork, which is most time-consuming, not to mention annoying, ate up the afternoon and I need to get some clothes as there’s more work to do in the garden and to see to that, I shouldn’t be wearing Versace.”

“Work in the garden?” Henry queried.

“Yes,” I stated, hitting the turn signal and slowing for an upcoming stop sign, thinking while feeling the smooth deceleration, Jake was very right about this vehicle. It was sublime. “And I need to get to the mall and home and do it quickly because Jake phoned,” I carried on. “He has a lock on someone who’s interested in buying Gran’s Buick so I need to be back at Lavender House to meet Jake there so we can be there when the buyer arrives.”

“Has a lock?” Henry murmured strangely then went on with, “We?”

“Indeed,” I confirmed, making my turn. “Obviously, I have no idea how to sell a car so Jake’s going to negotiate the sale for me. And tomorrow, the cable people are scheduled to come to the house to set up Internet and, of course, Amber’s grounding is done so back to the mall we go, as I need to buy her some makeup. I’m also helping out by starting to look after Ethan for Jake after school, but this time, Amber will be with him seeing as we’re going to the mall.”

“Amber and Ethan?”

“Jake’s children,” I explained then went on to share, “There’s also Conner. He’s the oldest. I don’t see him as often since he works in town at Wayfarer’s and has a variety of babes who take up his time.” I drew in breath and asked, “So, how are you?”

Before he answered, my phone beeped.

“One second, Henry,” I murmured, looked at my phone quickly then put it back to my ear. “So sorry,” I went on. “That’s Jake. I need to take the call. It might be about the Buick.”

“Jose—”

“I’ll phone tomorrow,” I said swiftly so I didn’t miss Jake’s call. “But I hope you’re doing well. Take care, Henry.”

Before he could say a word, I accepted Jake’s call and put the phone to my ear, greeting, “Hello, Jake.”

“Hey, Slick. You good?”

“I am,” I answered then shared, “Eliza isn’t.”

There was a moment’s silence then, “Fuck. She gettin’ bad?”

“Her deterioration day to day is distressing.”

“Baby,” he said softly and that one two-syllable word didn’t heal the concern I had for Eliza Weaver but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a balm for it. “Worried about you doin’ that,” he continued. “She’s goin’ downhill that fast, you’ve got a lot on your plate and that might be too much.”

“I’m fine, Jake,” I said quietly. “It’s Eliza who isn’t.”

“I get that and that sucks for her in a big way. I feel for her, for Weaver, but I don’t know them. I know and care about you.”

He cared about me.

He was so lovely.

“Really, Jake, it doesn’t feel good to watch her decline but it does make me feel good to be there for people Gran cared about and do my bit to help.”

There was a pause before he replied, “All right, honey.”

I took us away from that unhappy topic and asked, “Are you calling about the Buick?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Conner’s been spreadin’ it around at the store that the Buick is on offer and we got another bite. I asked the other buyer to come about half an hour after the first. If he’s interested, he’ll know someone else is interested and hopefully that’ll help us get you a good deal.”

“Excellent,” I replied.

“Yeah. So see you at your place at four?”

“Yes, Jake, see you there,” I confirmed.

“Right, Slick. Later, babe.”

“Later, Jake.”

For some reason, he rang off chuckling.

As for me, for reasons I knew very well, just having spoken to Jake no matter what it was we were talking about, I rang off smiling.

* * * * *

Four hours later, I stood in the lane at Lavender House with Jake watching the Buick drive away, two cars following it. One, the man who bought the Buick for his wife, the woman currently behind the wheel of Gran’s car. The other, the disgruntled loser of the negotiation that Jake made a passing attempt to moderate but it got so heated they upped their own offers, haggling amongst themselves without any input from Jake or me.

Indeed, it got to the point where it was ridiculous. Not knowing one thing about cars, I still knew this as the wife grew openly alarmed when the discussion carried forward to become not about two elderly gentlemen wishing to own a ten-year-old Buick but two elderly gentlemen wishing to best one another.

Regardless, in the end it would seem this served me quite well.

Therefore, when we lost sight of the last car, I looked up at Jake and noted, “I think that went well.”

He burst out laughing but did it turning to me and pulling me in his arms for a tight hug.

That felt so lovely, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him back.

When he was done laughing, he looked down at me and remarked, “You crack me right the fuck up, babe.”

I took that as confirmation the negotiation on the Buick went well but more, I liked that I amused him so I smiled at him and replied, “Good.”

His arms gave me a squeeze and his face changed to what could be nothing but disappointment (and it must be said, I looked hard to read something else in his features and saw only that) before he announced, “Need to get home, get the kids dinner, make sure they’re not killin’ each other.”

I was suddenly disappointed too, but had no choice but to agree.

“All right.”

He gave me a squeeze.

I forced another smile.

Then he bent his head and my breath caught when, this time, he brushed his lips just half an inch from the side of my mouth and then, before moving away, he brushed his nose against the side of mine.

I fought to get my breath back. Winning that fight, I then had to fight to modulate it as he pulled away and whispered, “Talk to you later, Josie.”

Unable to speak, I nodded.

He gave me another squeeze, then let me go and moved to his truck.

I waved as he pulled away and saw through the back window as he lifted his hand and flicked it out, indicating he saw my wave.

I watched Jake’s truck out of sight and moved back to the house thinking that for the first time in days, there was nothing scheduled, imminent or otherwise that would mean I would see or even hear from Jake again.

And this made me feel unusual—distraught and downhearted.

But I knew from experience of caring for Henry in a way he didn’t return, with my relationship with Jake, it was a feeling I would need to get used to.

Thus, I sighed deeply as I closed the door to Lavender House behind me thinking a word these days I thought frequently and knew I would continue to think with regularity when it came to Jake Spear.

And that was…alas.