"So, what's the plan, Mama?" Julianna tore her gaze away from J.R.'s soul-searching eyes.
Sharon put down her fork. "Hand me that notebook there at the end of the table."
J.R. and Julianna both reached for the book, their hands landing on either side of it at the same time.
"Let go," said J.R.
"You let go," countered Julianna.
"Just let go, dammit,"
"J.R.! Your language."
"Sorry, Mama." J.R. released the book, and Julianna gave him a winning smile of victory.
When Sharon was opening the notebook and looking down, he shot daggers at Julianna.
Her smile only got bigger.
Sharon found the page she needed and turned the book around to show J.R. the "to do" list for the renovations.
J.R. smiled this time, a triumphant gleam in his eyes as he lowered them to read the list. It was Julianna's turn to glare. After skimming the list J.R. coughed, choking on his last bite of stew. "Are you kidding?" he asked.
"What?" asked Sharon.
"We can't possibly get this much done in a month. Why do you need all this done just to sell the place?"
"I need as much money as I can get."
"But the cost of these renovations won't be worth the sales price. You'll never get your money's worth."
"I disagree." Julianna zeroed in on J.R. "Mama's been looking over the market in the area, and we should get a pretty penny for this place once it's looking nice again."
"I object to you calling my mother 'Mama' and what you may think is a pretty penny isn't enough when you consider all the things on this list. And what do you mean 'we'?"
Julianna cocked her head and didn't answer.
The silence lasted until Sharon groaned. "This is ridiculous," she said, exasperation escaping her lips. "She calls me 'Mama' because I asked her to. Julianna has been a part of the planning for this renovation since I decided I couldn't keep up this big house anymore. It's as much her project as it is mine."
J.R. looked doubtful. Julianna focused on her food again, trying to figure out a way to ignore how handsome he turned out and how much her insides quaked when she thought about him. Pushing those feelings down into a dark hole in her heart, she squared her shoulders. "I've got vacation coming up in a few days, and I'm planning to help full time while I'm off work. We can get it all done if we divide and conquer, so to speak."
"Divide and conquer," J.R. repeated thoughtfully.
"Sure. You know. You take the upstairs and I'll take the downstairs. We'll get twice as much done in half the time." And, hopefully, we won't have to run into each other much, Julianna thought.
J.R. turned his attention back to the list and ran his finger down the page. With a frustrated sigh, he said, "I'm not sure you understand how this renovation will actually work. If you do it piece-meal like that you'll make twice as many trips to the store and waste a bunch of time duplicating effort. Like this," he said, pointing to the notation on the paper where "new cabinets" was written, "if we're going to install new cabinets, we should do it all at once after the old ones are all torn out." Turning back to Sharon, he asked, "have you even ordered the new cabinets? They take, like, six weeks to be delivered sometimes."
"Don't worry," Sharon fussed. "Jake Carter is going to build the cabinets for me, and he said he could have them done in two weeks once we figure out what we want."
"Two weeks," J.R. repeated. "That's not possible."
"It is when he's going to drop everything for me as soon as we give him the order."
"He said that? That he was going to drop everything?"
Julianna laughed. It was pretty obvious J.R. had been gone a long time. Mama was an institution in this town and most people bent over backwards to help her. She doubted J.R. knew half the stuff Sharon Bentley did for the townspeople. He certainly couldn't know what Sharon had done for her. She looked forward to him finding out. In fact, she might even enjoy being the one to tell him. Well, maybe not everything.
Sharon narrowed her eyes. Julianna knew she didn't like to be contradicted. "He did, and he will. I have his word on it."
"Oh well, if you have his word then, of course, he'll drop everything."
"I don't need any of your sass, J.R. I would think after having grown up in this town you might remember what folks here are like. But it seems as though your city living has dulled your memory."
J.R. flashed a look at Julianna she couldn't decipher. "No Mama, I haven't forgotten growing up here. But I was still mostly a boy when I left, and I didn't know you had those kinds of connections."
"Jake Carter has been a friend of mine since before I can remember. People like that help each other."
Julianna couldn't keep her mouth shut. "Like when Jake's wife died, and Mama took him meals for a week and then invited him to Sunday dinner for a year."
"Hush."
"Well, you did," Julianna asserted. She pinned J.R. down with her eyes and raised one eyebrow, challenging him to argue with her.
"I guess when we talked every week, you didn't mention all your good Samaritan activities." J.R. smiled at his mama and Julianna saw a glimpse of the boy she once knew. Her heart softened just a hair, and she took in a deep breath to reinforce the steel wall she'd put in place ten years ago. Just because he was nice to his mama didn't make him a nice person.
As Julianna settled into her bed that night, she couldn't stop the memories from flooding her mind. Rolling with frame after frame of scenes of the two of them, her and J.R., growing up together brought a smile she didn't have to fight since she was alone in her trailer. They'd had some good times; some great times. J.R. had practically saved her life being the best friend she needed when Maureen and Earl Hobson took her in. Life with Earl wasn't half bad as long as she stayed out of his sight. Maureen had tried to be a good mother, but never having children of her own and trying to deal with a freaked-out, insecure, rebellious ten-year old, she never could figure out what to do with Julianna.
They called her J.R., too, and when she started school and she discovered another kid in her class named J.R., she thought their friendship was destiny. But all day, every day their names kept getting confused. Their teacher started calling her by her given name, Julianna, which she absolutely hated. Finally, J.R. came up with a solution, suggesting the teacher put Julianna's "r" in lower case to keep them separate. In time, everyone just called her Junior since that's what her name looked like. Heaven knew she was more of a tomboy and J.R.'s shadow then, so Junior fit. It wasn't until senior year in high school that she felt uncomfortable with the name. Just like she felt uncomfortable being so close to J.R. and him not seeing her as a girl, just the buddy she'd been for all those years. Then, everything changed right before graduation.
At that point Julianna shut her mind off. She was not going there. Thinking about those last few days in high school turned her stomach sour. She refused to dwell on the stupid things she'd done and the way her world turned upside-down. When J.R. left town and Sharon said he wasn't ever coming back, Julianna finally breathed again.
Closing her eyes and finding her center, she let the strain of the evening slowly dissipate out her fingers and toes, reaching inside for that calm she knew came from the Holy Spirit. In her prayers she couldn't be thankful J.R. was here, but she could be thankful Sharon had help so she could get the house sold and move into the retirement home she'd picked out. Julianna would miss her when the time came, but she couldn't fault Sharon's enthusiasm. She closed her eyes and thought of her own volunteer work at the hospital and how much peace it brought her.
J.R. tossed again in his bed, fighting to get the vision of Junior—Julianna—Brown out of his head. Mama never did say why she was living in the trailer in the backyard, side-stepping his question every time he asked. The fact that she had grown into a beautiful woman didn't surprise him in the least. She was always too pretty for her own good. Watching her grow up from a gangly pre-teen to a stunning young woman had unnerved h
im too many times to count.
How she had missed his growing attraction while they were in high school still confused him. Didn't she own a mirror? He supposed Earl and Maureen's sometimes lax, sometimes torturous care made it impossible for Junior to see herself the way he saw her. Her subtle charm and humility acted like a magnet to his soul. He was certain they would be together always. When she dumped him in front of her friend, Stacy, on graduation day, he took it hard. The anger built quickly and strong, like pouring a foundation with one percent hot water. Before he could think again, the wall he created was as hard as concrete, and the only way to move on was to move out.
What surprised him the most was that she was still in Cooper Springs. Her dreams of going to college and getting away from the Hobsons had been the major topic of their conversations during senior year. She'd been accepted at Oregon State and even applied for a housing scholarship. Did she go to college and then come back? Why? It frustrated him that he couldn't ask her. There had been a time when they knew everything about each other. Those days were the stuff of fairy tales, but when their story ended, there wasn't a happily-ever-after, just J.R. with his heart in his shoes and a girlfriend that wasn't even a friend anymore. He'd been glad to leave that summer.
Pouring his energy into his university classes and then, into his work had been a salvation. Meeting Bob Daniels and working under his tutelage for a couple years put him in an ideal spot to start his own business. Bob was like a father to him at a time when J.R. had missed his dad so much it hurt to breathe. Between that loss and Junior's abandonment, Bob filled a hole that sometimes felt as deep as Crater Lake.
Learning every aspect of construction, J.R. used his college education for the business end of his new company and Bob's instruction for the building end. With seed money from Bob, which J.R. was able to repay in only two years, J.R.'s construction company flourished. Bob had been the grateful one then, allowing him to move his family to a hundred-acre farm in eastern Oregon. But he never stopped coaching J.R., even from a distance.
It was Bob who convinced J.R. he could take some time to help Mama. He had gently ordered J.R. to pack his bag right then, while they were on the phone, telling him that someday he would be grateful for the time he had to spend with her. Bob just didn't know about the other ghosts in Cooper Springs. Still, when he thought and prayed about it, coming back was the right decision.
With the morning light, he listened to the little engine that roared as it faded in the distance. J.R. threw his blankets to the side and headed for the shower.
Finding Mama in the kitchen a few minutes later, he greeted her with a nod, poured himself a glass of orange juice and popped a couple pieces of bread into the toaster. Mornings had always been quiet in this house. Mama said it was a time for reflection and thanking the good Lord for another day to live and breathe and work. But with the list of projects ahead of him, J.R. couldn't let the morning go by in silence.
"Let's look at that list again and figure out what needs to be done first," he offered. The olive branch was necessary if it would get Mama to tell Junior they didn't need her.
"Okay," she said, as she filled her mug with another cup of her favorite herbal tea and sat down at the table. "We need to tackle the big stuff first and if we have to wait for something, we'll fill in with the little stuff."
"It might work like that," J.R. conceded, "but let's make sure we aren't finishing something that will be in the way of the next thing and have to be redone."
"Oh, that's a good idea."
J.R. smiled and patted his mama's hand. "That's why I'm here, Mama."
A cloud passed over Sharon's face, but didn't last long. J.R. didn't need her to say anything to feed his guilt. Her infrequent visits to Portland didn't amount to a whole lot of time and phone calls just weren't the same. He needed to change the subject. "It felt great sleeping in my old bed last night." Even though he hadn't slept much, he thought.
"It's nice to have another body in the house. I've always liked the quiet, but with just me, well, I've been lonely."
Gently taking her hand, he said softly, "I understand Mama, but even if I lived in town, I would have my own place by now."
"I suppose so." The air was thick with unsaid accusations and regrets. Neither of them wanted to start an argument or cause a problem while J.R. was there. Was it better to let it go or should he clear the air?
"Where's the list?" J.R. didn't want to dwell on the past or his absence.
CHAPTER THREE
J. R. put his pen down and rubbed his hand over his face. He hadn't prepared for the kind of projects Mama would expect to complete before they could put the house up for sale. Still struggling with whether it was worth the time and money and if they would be able to recoup the expenses once it was marketable, he took a deep breath and headed for the kitchen for some sustenance. Mama always kept cookies in the cupboard. When he was younger, they were made fresh once or twice a week. Now she bought her favorites at the grocery store. It wasn't quite the same, he thought, but better than nothing. Mama came in from outside.
"Where've you been?" he asked with a mouthful of Oreos.
"Just wandering," she said.
"I've put together a little timeline I'd like to go over with you."
"Okay." The wilted way she briefly closed her eyes gnawed at J.R.'s conscience. They hadn't even begun the renovation and already he could see she was weary of it.
He swallowed his cookie. "Come into the living room, and I'll tell you what I have in mind."
Sitting down on the bedraggled sofa, J.R. opened the notebook with the list and his notes. For the next hour they discussed the various places the house needed absolute repair and which tasks were optional. Initially, Mama wouldn't give an inch. She wanted everything on the list done.
In the end, she was willing to allow that some things weren't all that necessary for selling. After all, if the basement didn't have a utility sink all these years, why would they need to install one now? And the attic bedroom didn't really need new paint. In fact, J.R. convinced Mama she needed to purposefully leave some things for the new owners. They were hard fought concessions, but he felt he was making progress. Thinking ahead toward dinner—was he always this hungry?—he asked Mama if Junior ate with her every night.
"Only sometimes," she said. "She has her own life, and she can make simple meals in the trailer.
"Should I plan for her tonight?"
"Oh, yes." Mama's voice brightened. "She said she would eat with us while you're here, so we can discuss the project over dinner.
"She didn't sound particularly excited to eat with us last night."
"Well, I may not have told her exactly who was contracting the project."
J.R.'s eyes widened as he stared at this mother. "I was a surprise?"
"Something like that."
"No wonder she lashed out." Somehow, he needed to sit down and talk it out with Junior if he was ever going to move past the hurt. "I thought I'd make you my famous Manly Mac."
Mama laughed. "I didn't think you fixed that heart attack in a dish anymore."
J.R. joined her laughter. "Not very often but being here brings out the kid in me." He ignored Mama's raised eyebrows. "Do you have bacon and hamburger?"
"Of course."
"Just checking. I'll get dinner started, and we can eat as soon as Junior gets home." Saying "Junior" and "home" in the same sentence caused J.R. to inwardly wince. The idea of seeing her every night for as long as he was here shook him to the core. Like a penitence for a serious sin, J.R. couldn't help but wonder what he did that was so terrible.
Mama followed J.R. into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Pulling out a frying pan, he said, "I figured we'd start with the upstairs and work our way down. That way, the project won't affect your living space until it's absolutely necessary. It's no fun trying to rest in a construction zone. Junior can start with the downstairs guest room."
"Won't that take more time?"
"I think we'll make it up over the course of the project." He pulled the bacon from the refrigerator and carefully laid several pieces in the frying pan.
"I still think you and Julianna should just work together. Working separately will take longer, not get done sooner."
J.R. knew she was right, but he couldn't imagine working side-by-side with Junior for the entire project. They'd be ready to chop each other into kindling by the end of the first day. "Maybe." Ambiguity always worked for stalling for time. Many times, he had used that tactic in his work and ended up either walking away from a project doomed to fail or timing something just right.
"Whatever happened between you two, J.R.?" Mama said so low, he wasn't sure he heard her.
"I don't know, Mama. I thought...I thought...well," J.R. rubbed his hand over his face, his habit when he was thinking hard. "I guess I thought we would always be together. And by together, I mean...well, you know what I mean. Anyway, she threw me to the curb and broke all contact."
The bacon started to sizzle. The conversation seemed to fade away. Just as well. He didn't know what he would say anyway. He was pretty sure Mama knew how close they had been in high school, but she never asked any questions. Maybe if she had he would have found out sooner what the problem was that made Junior sever all ties. As it was, he never fought for the two of them and that knowledge ate at him. Basically, he convinced himself that he didn't feel as strongly toward her as his eighteen-year old heart thought. He just let her push him away.
Turning the bacon a second time, he took a pound of hamburger from the fridge. Leaving the cooked bacon on a paper towel covered plate, he slid the meat into the same pan to brown. His version of glorified macaroni and cheese wasn't too healthy, but it sure tasted good. Maybe serving something they shared so often in the past would soften Junior around the edges. She might even drop her guard long enough to have a decent conversation with him. Inwardly, he shrugged. He could hope.
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