Special Delivery

by Abby Tyler

  Jack turned to look behind him as he shot out of the parking space. “Jenica has no marketable skills. She barely graduated high school. She’s done nothing but illegal activities every time she’s gotten out. She’s been a drug mule. A distributor. And mostly just a junkie.”

  “But how did she get that way? Maybe if she got some help about whatever led her into addiction in the first place, it would help her not go back in.”

  Louisa didn’t expect the explosiveness of Jack’s reaction. He slammed his palm against the steering wheel so forcefully, Louisa quickly turned around to make sure he had not awakened Ella.

  “You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “So just drop it.”

  Louisa stared out her side window as the truck quieted after his outburst.

  No, she didn’t know. But maybe she should. Maybe whatever made Jenica go off the deep end and turned Jack into a stiff, angry jerk was one and the same.

  Louisa aimed to figure it out.

  She felt pretty secure in her job with Jack. Even if he wanted to fire her, he would have trouble finding someone else.

  Besides, Louisa had never been the sort of person who held back when she had something to say. And right now, she had plenty.

  But she did give him a moment to calm down. This visit had been hard for him, that was clear. And while she really wasn’t up to the task of being a soothing figure in his life, she was in a good position to help him see the negative turn of his thoughts.

  Anybody who looked at the situation from the outside could see that the biggest asset that Jenica Stone had in her life was her brother. She just had to get Jack willing to be a part of it.

  But that meant facing whatever had made their lives derail.

  They had a couple of hours in the truck. They couldn’t escape each other, and Jack would be forced to listen to what she had to say.

  And even if he did fire her, she always had the temp agency in Branson waiting for her.

  But she let the scenery do its work. It was hard to stay angry surrounded by sunshine and mountain peaks and spring flowers. She held her tongue until Jack’s shoulders dropped, and his fingers loosened on the wheel.

  When his breathing seemed slow and normal again, she started with something easy. “I think Ella’s naps have gotten long enough that I can tackle putting up that wallpaper border that matches her curtains.”

  The words had the effect she expected. When she stopped challenging him and spoke of more neutral things, his voice returned to its more measured state. “That sounds good. If not, I can probably get to it on my next long break.”

  “That’s true. It might be a lot for one person to try to paste and hold. But I’ll give it a shot on the shorter wall, the one with the corner by the closet. And I’ll decide if I can manage it on my own.”

  “That’s above and beyond your job description,” Jack said.

  “I don’t mind. It’s more cheerful to have pretty things surrounding you. Not just for Ella. Me, too.”

  Jack only grunted at that. Louisa decided to broach another simple subject before getting to the hard stuff.

  “I joined a mother’s group online, and they said some of them start their babies on rice cereal as early as four months.”

  “Didn’t the doctor say six?”

  “He did. But they tend to err on the side of caution.”

  “I think I prefer to err on the side of caution as well.”

  “Sure. I just wanted to put that thought in your head since starting solids is sometimes what will bring about sleeping through the night more quickly. If we’re still struggling two months from now, it might be something to consider.”

  “All right. If we get to that point, we can always call the doctor’s office and get them to sign off on it.”

  “That sounds like a perfect compromise,” she said.

  This conversation had gone exactly the way she had expected. Now it might be time to hit the hard stuff. She didn’t normally get nervous when speaking to people, even about difficult subjects. But she realized she was clasping her hands together so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.

  She shook them out, then dove right in. “So, how much do you think Jenica’s problems have to do with your dad?”

  His voice was almost a growl, low and threatening. “What are you trying to say?”

  “Your dad was pretty legendary in town. We know he was a difficult man, and it has often been wondered if his harshness had a negative impact on Jenica.”

  “You mean you gossips sat around and cruelly speculated without an ounce of real truth.”

  She hadn’t expected Jack to defend his father. Interesting.

  “I wouldn’t say there was a lack of truth. There were tons of people who witnessed him dragging her out of the football stadium on what should’ve been a great night for you.”

  “Oh, you mean that Homecoming business? He caught her drinking under the stands. She was sixteen.”

  “I’m not saying that he was wrong. We all knew what Jenica was up to. But just the way he did it. And probably whatever happened after.”

  “Are you suggesting that my father hurt her?”

  “No, not at all. I definitely don’t have an ounce of truth about that. But certainly, his parenting method was one of fear, ridicule, public humiliation, and brute force. That doesn’t always mean happy, healthy children in the end.”

  “Do you suggest he should’ve coddled her? Told her that she needed to be a good girl and put a star on her chart?”

  “Are those the only two parenting styles you know? Humiliation and star charts?”

  “I didn’t ever expect to be a father.” His words were flinty and sharp.

  “But, Jack, you are one. You’re the only father Ella knows.”

  “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I worry every single day about the example my father set for me? And how to get around it? How to be different when you don’t have any other role model?”

  Now they were getting somewhere. “I think you’re doing great, Jack.”

  “Am I? I couldn’t hold it together when she arrived. It took a hundred ladies from town to even get me food. I’m a complete and utter sham. The only reason this hasn’t completely blown up in my face—”

  He shut up abruptly.

  “Is because you’re a better man than your father,” Louisa finished. “Everyone can see that. If you think people are gossiping about you, that’s the only thing they are saying. Jack Stone is a better father than his father could have ever hoped to be. That’s what they say.”

  For the next few miles, the quiet in the truck was so complete that each burst of wind rattled the glass. A truck rumbled by in the other direction. Beyond the road, the mountains loomed silent, green, and expansive.

  When Jack spoke again, his voice was completely different than any version Louisa had ever heard before, raspy and almost uncertain.

  “That wasn’t what I was going to say at all,” he said. “The only reason this whole thing hasn’t fallen apart since Ella arrived is because of you.”

  Chapter 15

  Jack knew things would change between him and Louisa after that road trip. It was as if a haze had lifted, one they’d never even realized was obscuring how they saw each other.

  Maybe it helped to get his feelings about his upbringing off his chest. The conversation had clarified something for him. He couldn’t really put his finger on exactly what was different. But it was just like what Louisa had said about the crib. He would know if it felt right.

  And Louisa felt right.

  She’d stood by him, even when he smelled bad, hadn’t showered in days, and had a house littered with trash. And now, she took care of his niece when he worked nights. She decorated the nursery. She’d even gotten Nero to eat full meals again, and the dog seemed less sad and lonely.

  All this from the woman he’d resented for two decades over a simple prank. He needed to get over it. Greasing a footba
ll was sort of funny.

  Jack found he looked forward to coming home to them both. And they often made quite a picture, dancing around the living room to nursery rhymes playing on Louisa’s phone.

  He noticed other moms and families on his patrol. He’d suggested a new formula brand to Mandy Johnson when her little guy threw up all over her shopping cart. And he’d surprised Bethany Webber by knowing the difference between two types of diapers.

  He particularly watched fathers, how they carried their babies in carriers on their chests. Or lifted toddlers to sit on their shoulders. They pushed kids on swings and tossed them in the air and fed them with spoons while making funny sounds, even in restaurants.

  He would learn.

  One Saturday morning, he got off work feeling energized and ready to get to work. So when Louisa settled Ella to let him sleep for a while, he instead changed into some old clothes and told her they should set up the nursery.

  Louisa practically squealed with excitement they were finally going to unpack the crib they had bought a few weeks prior, and move his bulky equipment out of the nursery.

  They carried Ella’s swing into the bedroom so she could watch them work, and the baby followed their movements as the two of them lugged weights and dumbbells from one room to the other. She waved her arms and kicked her legs, showing more personality than she had in all the weeks she had lived with him.

  When they were down to just the oversized weight set, Jack looked up at it with a frown. It still filled an awful lot of the room. Not just in space. It didn’t feel like the right thing to sit next to a crib.

  “I’m going to disassemble it,” he said. “I can start parking my truck outside. I’ll set this back up in the garage.”

  “Are you sure?” Louisa asked. “It gets mighty cold in the winter for you to work out in there.”

  He shot her a grin. “I think you underestimate my workouts.”

  She smiled back. “I’ll try not to picture it.”

  Something in the way she looked at him as she said it made him prickle with heat.

  What was that? Interest in Louisa James? Couldn’t be.

  “You good with a ratchet?” he asked.

  Louisa nudged her shoulder against his. “Of course I am. I’m a lot more than a pretty face and a rocking bod.” She rolled her eyes.

  Her comment made Jack pause. “What do you mean by that? You don’t think you have a pretty face or… the rest?”

  Louisa blew a wisp of hair out of her eyes. “You may have forgotten, but I am a forty-year-old woman. And even when I was a young thing, I wasn’t exactly winning any beauty pageants.”

  She turned to rummage through the tool kit, but Jack held out a hand to stop her. “Now wait a minute. Is that what you think about yourself?”

  Louisa pushed past his arm to tug a ratchet out of the box. “I don’t think I want to have this conversation.”

  But Jack persisted. “Louisa, you look amazing. For your age or any age. You practically radiate happiness.”

  She did look at him then, and he realized her eyes were a brilliant shade of blue. How had he not seen that before?

  “I think you mean snark.”

  “Well, then laughter. You make people forget their problems. You’re funny. And there’s no way that someone with that skill doesn’t come off as amazing to behold.”

  She coughed out a laugh. “Amazing to behold? Did Jack Stone just call his arch enemy Louisa James amazing to behold?” She began poking him in the chest with the silver ratchet. “I’m going to make you say that on my cell phone, and then I’ll replay it on the microphone at the next Harvest Dance. And then I’m going to have you dragged to the Last Ditch so you can ask me to dance and I can say, ‘But Officer Stone! What a shock!’”

  Something about the way she came at him, swinging one of his metal tools, was irresistible. He felt absolutely light, as if any trouble had floated away on a cloud.

  He grasped her hands and pulled her close to him. “Stop talking,” he said. “Or your arch enemy Jack Stone will silence you.”

  “I would like to see him try,” Louisa said with another laugh.

  Before he could even think about it, because if he had, he surely would never have done it, Jack drew Louisa against him and pressed his lips to her mouth.

  At first, she seemed too shocked to respond. So he waited, suddenly unsure, thinking he might have just screwed up in the worst way possible.

  But then she laughed. “Jack Stone, why, of all the people in Applebottom, did I end up kissing you?”

  Their lips were just inches apart. He could feel the breath of her every word against his skin.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But let’s run with it.”

  And they did, Louisa pressing against him as their mouths learned each other. His hands sought the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in the hair falling out of the band around her head.

  She tasted of hazelnut coffee and something just a little bit sweet. When they finally broke apart to look at each other, all amusement had fled. Those amazing blue eyes he’d finally noticed had little flecks of green in them. Her lashes were long and she wore a light coat of mascara that tipped them black.

  He didn’t want to stop looking. He didn’t want to stop tasting. He leaned in again.

  So this was what a wife was like to hold, to taste. A wife and a mother, who smelled of morning coffee and baby powder and shampoo.

  This is what it was like to be in the middle of a task and feel overwhelmed by someone, someone you knew better than anyone else.

  As the kiss went on and on, Jack felt lost in her. When had this happened? When had Louisa James stopped being a big nuisance and shifted into the woman he knew so well?

  It didn’t matter.

  She was here. And now he knew.

  Chapter 16

  Kissing Jack Stone.

  Louisa still couldn’t believe she had done it. Was doing it. Had continued to do it.

  That moment had changed pretty much everything.

  Jack was no longer the man she’d humiliated years ago, who hated her for it, the person she avoided in Applebottom as much as possible.

  He was a man she had kissed.

  She’d never thought of Jack as kissing material before. He didn’t date. He was stern and unmovable.

  From a strictly physical appraisal, sure, she could see his appeal. He was tall and strong and even his muscles had muscles. But he didn’t show it off. Nothing about Jack Stone screamed, “Look at me and make me yours.”

  But she definitely saw him now.

  And she’d felt those shoulders. Those strong arms had come around her. And those lips.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about those lips.

  These days, when Jack came home from his shift, Louisa would stay a while, whether it was midnight or two in the afternoon. They ate meals together. She even brought her best pizza pan over to his house.

  “I’m going to teach you how to make a proper pizza,” she said.

  “I’ve done it,” he insisted.

  She laughed. “Oh, no. Not slapping bottled sauce on a premade slab of preservatives and flour. From scratch.”

  She taught him to mix the dough and roll it on flour to make a ball. She showed him how she would spin it on her hand to make it fly out even and round. Then she reformed the ball and passed it to him to try.

  He slapped the lump of dough on his fist and gave it a whirl.

  It wound up on his forehead, sticking to his hair.

  She giggled, picking out pieces of clumpy flour.

  He grabbed her wrists, kissing her until she literally saw stars and half the dough had transferred to her hair.

  “Hey!” she said.

  “We share everything now,” he said, his voice a rumble.

  And they did. The hard days when Ella cried and they couldn’t figure out why. The lovely times when she slept in their arms and the three of them curled up on the sofa together.

  What a
strange, strange world she was living in.

  So far, no one in Applebottom knew what was happening outside of the two of them. Louisa hadn’t mentioned it, not to the owners of the shops she visited. Not to the townspeople she ran into. Certainly not Maude or Gertrude, who would’ve told everybody.

  She barely admitted something as miraculous as this was happening, even to herself. It was as though it were all a dream, the sort you don’t shake even after you’ve awakened.

  Ella turned three months old, and Louisa bought one of those cute little chalkboards where you write the baby’s age and take a picture of them beside it. Jack had mentioned that Jenica wanted a printed picture, and Louisa realized that if anyone was going to get it done, it would be her.

  She dressed Ella in her cutest yellow dress and propped her between the cushions of the sofa so the dress flowed around her chubby legs.

  She leaned the blackboard next to her and was busily snapping an entire series of shots when Jack walked in.

  “Hard to believe she’s three months, isn’t it?” he said.

  “It is.”

  Louisa shook her head at the conversation. How many times had these words been spoken by parents every day, across the world? How had it happened that she and Jack were saying the same thing?

  Jack tweaked Ella’s little foot. “Let me go lock up my equipment, and I’ll be back,” he said.

  When he kissed Louisa’s forehead and headed to his bedroom, Louisa allowed herself a moment to hold onto this illusion just one more moment. Husband. Wife. Baby.

  She sat down next to Ella and flipped through the images on her phone, choosing the one she would send to be printed.

  For Jenica.

  The baby’s real mother.

  Who was in jail.

  Reality crashed on her like a cloudburst. She was the nanny, not the mother. Jack was, well, he was something. But definitely not a husband.

  The illusion was just so beautiful. It didn’t hurt to indulge it every once in a while. At this point, with her parents gone and no other job, it was all she had.