Kristen Ashley - The Will

Even so, it would be lovely simply to share a drink and a quiet conversation in the light room again.

But he was right. He needed to be there for his girl.

I nodded.

Then I found myself blurting, “I still have cream puffs.”

Jake’s brows drew together. “Come again?”

“Well,” I began to explain. “You have some experience with women so it’s probably has not been lost on you that often when women face difficulties, food has a calming influence. Food and friends. The Taylors, Conner and his girl, Ethan, you…all of you can come to Lavender House because I have plenty of cream puffs and they’re still delicious.”

At that, Jake’s face gentled, and he stated, “And that way, you can also see to my girl.”

Yes.

And that way, I could also see to Amber.

I said nothing.

He started us moving again, murmuring, “Cream puffs it is, Slick.”

Cream puffs it was.

And as it was, I felt better.

I just hoped cream puffs, friends and family would make Amber feel the same.

The next morning, I wandered through the kitchen in my robe and nightie, going straight to the coffeepot. I hit the button to turn it on and heard it immediately start gurgling. I then pulled down a mug, grabbed a packet of sweetener and went to the refrigerator to get the milk.

I set the milk on the counter by the waiting mug, turned my back to the counter and leaned against it, aiming my eyes out to the gray day and stormy sea.

All of this, I did smiling.

I did it smiling because the cream puffs last night had worked.

I found the Taylors had been to Lavender House with Amber (repeatedly) and were glad they had the chance to come back. I’d also found that Ellie had never been and she’d always wanted to see the house (and loved it—her words, her emphasis).

By the end of the evening, with all of us gathered close around Gran’s kitchen table, we’d consumed cream puffs and hot cocoa and everyone, including Amber and Ellie, had ended up laughing, tickled by the absurd conversation led by Ethan, who seemed determined to entertain us. And he did.

I also studied the view smiling because when the night had finally come to an end and I’d walked them all to the door, Jake was the last to leave.

When he hit the door, he’d stopped and dipped his head to me, his smiling lips not brushing my cheek, his rising hand not going to my hair to give my ponytail a tug (as I didn’t have a ponytail, I had my hair up in a chignon at the nape of my neck).

No, instead, his smiling lips had brushed my lips and his hand had risen to cup my jaw when he did so.

Of course, it was just an affectionate brush but it was so lovely, it left my lips tingling in a way that was more pleasant than any kiss I’d ever received. Even far more ardent ones (and it must be said, Dee-Amond was a fabulous kisser and that brush even beat Amond’s kisses).

I’d liked it enough to allow myself one more moment to pretend. Just that one. And I gave myself that moment.

Just that one.

But it was a very, very good one.

When he’d lifted his head, he’d whispered, “Way you took care of my crew tonight, owe you another dinner at The Eaves.”

I’d eat a picnic in Hades with him.

I didn’t share that.

I’d replied, “That’s not necessary, Jake.”

“Oh yeah it is,” he’d returned, giving me a gentle squeeze at my jaw before he released me, murmured, “Later, Slick,” and he was gone.

I’d stood in the open doorway and waved as all the cars drove away.

And I’d gone to bed with hot cocoa and cream puff in my belly, the whisper of Jake’s lips on mine, and I’d slept like a baby.

Now, I had to figure out my day.

The plants in the greenhouse needed tending. I needed to research hiring an accountant, as there were likely inheritance taxes to see to. I also needed to get to a grocery store that was not Wayfarer’s as Ethan’s appetite was such he’d eat me out of house and home and he didn’t really care if his sustenance was gourmet or not.

But before all that, I needed to call Lavon Burkett’s people and procure backstage passes.

And that night, I needed to go watch Jake fight so I needed to find out where the arena was in order to journey there.

On this thought, my phone in my purse on the butcher block rang. I moved to it, dug my phone out of my bag and saw the display heralding the fact that Henry was calling.

I took the call, put the phone to my ear and greeted, “Hello, Henry.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he replied softly. “How’re you doing?”

“Splendid,” I told him, moving back to the coffee, preparing a cup and resuming my position, back to the counter, eyes to the window, sipping and sharing the events of the day before (sans kiss on the lips from Jake and the way I’d pretended all day).

When I was done, there was a moment of silence before Henry noted, “Seems you’re getting close to this Jake and his kids.”

“They’re all lovely,” I told him as my affirmative.

There was another moment of silence before, cautiously, he asked, “You sure that’s a good idea, honey? Kids can become dependent on someone, especially someone like you and especially if they get someone like you and their mother is absent. When that happens, they don’t need another woman eventually absenting herself, especially a good woman. ”

At Henry’s words, it occurred to me that I hadn’t yet explained the fact that I wanted to slow down and work as often as I could from the light room and thus Jake’s children would have me around more often than not.

But Henry would have me around far less often than usual.

This was not something in my currently content state of mind that I wished to deal with.

So I decided not to.

“Well, it isn’t like communication in a variety of ways is difficult in this day and age, Henry,” I pointed out somewhat misleadingly at the same time leadingly, as in, leading him to understand I could do much for him even if not with him (paving the way for when I decided to broach that subject, that was).

“True,” he murmured.

I changed the subject. “And you? You’re well?”

“You know me,” he replied and I did. This meant he was working a great deal, socializing a great deal and I didn’t ask but it was likely his latest lover had at some point joined him in Italy and thus he was doing other things a great deal.

“You journey to Paris soon,” I noted.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“And Daniel’s working out?” I asked.

“He’s not you,” Henry answered without really answering although what he said was quite true.

“Indeed,” I agreed just as the house phone rang.

I studied it as I set down my coffee mug, walked to it and asked, “Can you hang on for a moment? Gran’s phone is ringing.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he answered.

“It’ll probably just be a second,” I assured him. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” he said with a strange mixture of gentleness, depth and rigidity that I’d never heard before.

However, my mind was not on Henry but on the ringing phone so I gave it no thought, took my mobile from my ear and grabbed the phone from its cradle on the wall. “Lavender House.”

“Josephine?”

It was Arnold Weaver.

I felt my heart seize for a call from Mr. Weaver could mean anything, and part of that anything could be very bad, and I forced out, “Mr. Weaver. How are you?”

“Arnie, Josephine, I keep telling you, please call me Arnie.”

“Of course,” I murmured.

“Listen, I’ve called the kids and they’re all coming this weekend so Eliza will have quite a bit of company.”

I did not take this as good news.

I also understood what he was saying.

“All right,” I said softly. “I’ll let you and Eliza enjoy your children being home.”

“Thank you, Josephine. I’ll give you a call should…” He paused and it was a long one before he carried on. “I’ll call you later. It’s likely I won’t be going into the office for some time so I can free up your mornings.”

I understood that too.

“Of course. I’ll await your call. Please give Eliza my love.”

“I’ll do that. Enjoy your weekend, Josephine,” he told me and I could hear in his voice that even though his children were arriving, he would not be doing the same.

Still, I wished him, “You do the same, Arnie.”

“Take care, Josephine and”—another weighty pause—“thank you. Eliza looks forward to your visits. It’s just with the kids and grandkids…” he trailed off.

I rushed to assure him, “I understand. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon. ‘Bye, Josephine.”

“Take care, Arnie.”

He disconnected and I put the phone back in its cradle thinking I needed to talk to Jake.

Immediately.

I needed this because I knew Eliza was slipping away and doing it rapidly. I knew that Arnie had called his children to attend her because time was short and thus precious. I knew he was preparing. And I knew that I needed to prepare, and as mad as it sounded, I understood in a way that was absolute that the best way to do that was to hear Jake’s voice.

Alas, I could not beleaguer him with this information. I knew very little of what a boxer had to do to prepare for a fight but I didn’t think it would be good for him to have the knowledge a dying woman was closing in on her passing on his mind, even if he didn’t know her.

I heard Henry calling from my mobile and my head gave a slight jerk.