I’d completely forgotten he was on the line.
I put the phone to my ear. “Henry.”
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
I didn’t want to tell him about Eliza. I didn’t want his reassurances, his compassion, his thoughtfulness, his concern, all of which I knew he’d give to me.
I wanted Jake’s.
“Uh…yes,” I lied. “Just a friend of Gran’s calling.” Luckily, that wasn’t a lie. “Listen, I have to go. I’m still in my nightie and I have some errands to run today.”
“All right, honey,” he replied then asked somewhat strangely, “You’re going to be at Lavender House all weekend?”
“Of course, Henry. Where else would I be?” I responded.
That was, I’d be there (mostly) when I wasn’t at the arena watching Jake (and Mickey) fighting.
I didn’t share that, however.
“Just checking,” he murmured then, louder, “I’ll talk to you later.”
“All right, Henry. Speak with you tomorrow.”
“You will. ’Bye, honey.”
“Good-bye, Henry.”
Without listening to his disconnect, I accomplished my own and immediately scrolled down my phone and hit Jake’s number.
It rang twice before he answered with, “Slick.”
I took in a breath and greeted, “Hello, Jake.”
“How’s your mornin’?” he asked.
“Delightful,” I lied. “How are Amber and Conner?”
“Con’s not up yet,” he told me. “He dropped off Ellie and then they talked probably until two in the morning on the phone. Amber seems fine and this might have to do with the fact that I okayed a sleepover tonight at Taylor’s.”
“Boy Taylor or girl Taylor?” I asked.
“Boy Taylor and the big deal about that is that he’s got a better makeup collection for them to screw around with. Girl Taylor has a better closet of clothes but she’s not Amber’s size so that’s not as fun.”
“Ah,” I murmured with a smile in my voice as one was on my lips.
“That why you called?” he asked.
“Um…no,” I answered.
His voice dropped lower and sweeter when he queried, “Why’d you call, baby?”
“Well, I just wished to tell you to…I don’t know. What do you say to someone prior to a fight? It’s probably not telling them to break a leg.”
I heard his chuckle before, “No. That’s not what you say.”
“Well, whatever you say, I wanted to say that.”
“Kick his ass, mess him up, knock him out, floor him…those are the usuals,” he educated me.
“Well, do all that,” I encouraged.
I got another chuckle before he said, “Good luck also works.”
“Then good luck too,” I stated.
“Can’t not have good luck, you sittin’ ringside watchin’ me fight.”
I blinked at the phone on the wall as warmth swept through me at his words.
And as this warmth spread through me, I realized that as much as I loved how wonderful he was, I was beginning to wish he was a little less wonderful. Jake being so wonderful was making it hard not to pretend I was living in a world where I could experience just how wonderful I actually wanted him to be.
He seemed not to mind my non-response for he went on to inquire, “You headin’ to the Weavers this morning?”
“Well, um…” Drat! Why was I finding it difficult to prevaricate? “Arnie called this morning and asked me not to come. His children are visiting this weekend and therefore Eliza already has a good deal of company and it’s doubtful Arnie will want to go to the office,” I found myself announcing.
This was met with silence.
Then I heard, “Fuck.”
He understood the reason for the Weaver children’s visit.
“I’m sorry, Jake,” I said quietly. “I didn’t wish to tell you. I didn’t want to take your focus off your fight tonight with that kind of news. I know you don’t know them but you worry about me and—”
He interrupted me. “No matter what, babe, it’s on your mind, you need to let it go, you tell me. I don’t give a fuck if I’m set to fight Holyfield, I wanna know.”
Yes, it would be a lot easier if he was less wonderful.
“You doin’ okay with this news?” Jake asked.
“No,” I whispered, again honestly.
“You need company?” he went on.
I didn’t need it. I’d be all right.
That didn’t mean I didn’t want it.
But Jake had a fight so I shouldn’t ask for it.
“No, Jake. I have quite a bit to do today. Once I get started, it’ll take my mind off things. Then I have your event tonight to look forward to. I’m fine.”
“Sure?” he pressed.
“I’m sure,” I told him.
He didn’t respond for a moment then he said, “Okay, baby. You get unsure, you call. Right?”
Oh yes.
It would be much easier if he was less wonderful.
“Right, Jake,” I agreed.
“Shit,” he muttered suddenly then he told me, “Sounds like Con’s up. I wanna have a word with him before he has to get to work. I gotta let you go.”
“That’s fine. I’ll, well…see you tonight.”
“You will, Slick. See you then.”
“Yes, Jake. Good luck and, um…mess him up.”
That got me another chuckle before, “My promise to you, I will, Josie. Later, honey.”
“Later, Jake.”
Unlike Henry, I waited to hear his disconnect before I put down my phone.
I went back to my mug, took a sip of coffee and resolutely turned my eyes to the plants and herbs in Gran’s greenhouse.
I needed to get in there. And I needed to because they did need attention. But I also needed to so I could take my mind off Eliza Weaver, Arnie Weaver and the reason their children were visiting.
But mostly I needed to because I needed to get my mind off just how wonderful Jake Spear was and just how much I needed him to be a little less wonderful.
* * * * *
I was working in the greenhouse when the house phone rang again.
As I’d suspected, I’d managed to procure backstage passes to the Bounce concert in Boston that was to occur two weeks hence. I did this by calling Bounce’s manager and he hadn’t even talked to the band before he said, “No probs, Josephine. We’ll have the Malone party on the list and they’ll be instructed to give you as many passes as you need.”
I’d texted this information to Jake who’d texted back, “Gotcha, Slick.” I’d also texted this information to Amber, telling her to share it with the Taylors so they could confirm with their parents. Her reply was oddly, “SQUEEEEE!!!”
I’d hit the greenhouse and started work but it was no surprise it was not easy to take my mind off Jake. Though I did manage to focus on the less difficult things, such as going to his fight that night and primary to that, what I’d wear.
I’d never been to a fight. I had no idea what attire was appropriate.
It was this that I was thinking when the phone started ringing.
I put down my clippers and headed to the phone, brushing small dead leaves of thyme from my fingers. I grabbed it and put it to my ear.
“Lavender House,” I greeted.
“Josephine?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Reverend Fletcher.”
Slightly surprised, I settled a hip to the counter and said, “Hello, Reverend Fletcher. How are you today?”
“I’m well, Josephine, thank you for asking,” he replied. “I don’t want to take up much of your time but it’s come to my attention you’re looking after Eliza Weaver as well as collecting Ethan Spear from school.”
It was not a surprise that he knew this. Magdalene was a small town but news traveled fast even when one was not in a small town.
What was a surprise was that he phoned and referred to it.
“Yes, Reverend, I am,” I confirmed.
“Does this mean you’re planning to stay in Magdalene for a while?” he went on to query.
“Indeed it does,” I told him.
“That’s lovely news. Ruth and I would enjoy seeing you at services and perhaps you’ll join us for dinner one evening.”
Services would not likely be on my agenda. Although I quite liked the Fletchers and obviously, being Gran’s granddaughter, I believed in God and honored Him (mostly), services tended to occur early. I’d wake up early to work out with Jake but I wouldn’t relish doing it to get dressed up to listen to a sermon.
Dinner would be nice, though.
“That would be lovely,” I said.
“I’m also calling for another reason,” he shared.
“And that would be?” I prompted when he said no more.
“I believe you know Pearl Milshorn?”
“Of course,” I told him. “She’s one of Gran’s closest friends.”
“Yes, well, you also probably know her son is in Portland, her daughter in Bar Harbor and her grandkids are scattered everywhere. She has folks who come in a few times a week to help her with groceries and cleaning and Ruth or one of my parishioners picks her up for church on Sunday mornings but she doesn’t get many visitors. And she walks with that frame so can’t get around easily. I know Lydia visited her once a week if she could, or Pearl came to Lavender House. I’m worried with your grandmother gone she’s getting quite lonely and—”
I interrupted him, feeling terrible I hadn’t thought of this myself. Since I’d been in Magdalene, Pearl had phoned and she’d been one of the few who’d given me a hug at Gran’s funeral. I hadn’t thought of her again since but it was rare when I came to visit Gran that I didn’t see Pearl, even in passing.
I should have thought of her.
Therefore, I interrupted him to say, “I’ll pop by. Look in on her. See if she needs anything and if she’s up for regular visitors.”
I said this but I thought that Ethan seemed rather fond of senior citizens (and pretty much anybody). He might enjoy visiting Pearl and getting to know her and I knew she’d enjoy the same. In fact, being Gran’s dearest friend, he might already know her.
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