No Time for Apologies: No Brides Club, Book 5

by Gordon, Jean C.

  “I’ll take those.” Jon reached for the bags.

  “You must be Jon, the older woman said as she handed him hers. “Kate told me all about you. You are a handsome one.”

  “Thank you.” Jon preened at the thought of Kate talking about him, possibly about his appearance. Maybe she was attracted to him. He roadblocked that out-of-control train with the silent reminder, she’s your boss.

  “Yes,” the woman continued. “Kate told me all about how you knew each other in high school and how you met again recently at work when she found out she was your new boss.” The woman chuckled. “Things are sure different today, and for the better.” Her eyes twinkled as she tipped her head toward Jon. “I never had such a nice view at any of the jobs I had when I was young.”

  “Edna, you crack me up,” Kate said, nodding

  Jon dropped his gaze to the train platform. Eye candy. Guess that put him in his place. But that’s usually where he wanted to be with women—casual, no strings attached. So he didn’t know why Kate’s nod felt like a gut kick.

  “Ralph.” Edna looked over Jon’s shoulder. “Excuse me.” She walked around Jon to the man with the walker and shared a kiss. “You didn’t have to come out to meet me.”

  “Yes, I did. I couldn’t wait to see you.”

  The older woman’s blush warmed Jon.

  “And I’ll take that bag,” Ralph said.

  “I’ve got it.” Jon took in the wheels on the walker and the expression on the other man’s face. “Right here,” he finished, handing the bag over so Ralph could wrap his hand around the handle and his walker at the same time.

  “It was nice meeting you, Kate,” Edna said as she turned to leave.

  “The same here.”

  “I’ll email you that information about my Tai Chi class.”

  “I’ll be looking for it.”

  Jon watched the older couple walk away, her arm resting on his waist. Sadness enveloped him. Was that generation, his grandparents’ generation, the last to master happily ever after in a relationship? He certainly hadn’t seen it with his parents or many of his friends’ parents. As for himself, he hadn’t ever gotten past superficial to even think about a future with anyone.

  “They’re adorable, aren’t they?” Kate asked.

  “I guess.” He shrugged, ridding himself of any lingering envy of what he saw in the elderly couple.

  Kate’s eyes softened. “I can see my parents like them in 25 years.”

  “Really?” Jon couldn’t contain his surprise

  “Sure, now that they don’t have kids hanging on them, they hold hands when they walk together, kiss before one of them leaves the house. And with Dad moving toward 60, Mom fusses over him, worries about him doing too much around the farm, not letting his part-time hand and the teenager he hired in the summer and after school do enough. Dad still brings her little bouquets of wild violets and daisies when he finds them.

  The light Kate’s smile brought to her eyes made him want to be where she was, in the happy place her observations had taken her.

  “Sometimes I think they’re heading into their second childhood.” She laughed. “How about you, your parents?”

  Jon swallowed against the desert in his throat before he spoke. He didn’t want his envy and lack of any real relationship with his parents to show. “I don’t see them often. Their busy schedules, Grandpa, the livestock.” The more he said, the lamer he sounded.

  “But when they needed you, asked for your help this weekend, you were ready to go.”

  Jon didn’t want to correct Kate. His mother didn’t ask, she commanded. And he was going to Genesee for Grandpa, not his mother or father. The old guy fought letting on how hurt he was that his only daughter, only child was estranged from him. Jon and his parents didn’t get along well, but Jon talked to them when they called and answered their emails.

  “You know who Edna and Ralph remind me of?” Jon altered the conversation path.

  “Who?”

  “My grandma and grandpa before Grandma died.” Jon blinked against the sun. Without being aware, he and Kate had walked through the small train station and out the other side by the parking lot. “My car’s the green Forester.”

  “Not a Mercedes or Beamer? I thought all you financial types drove them.”

  Jon squirmed. He had had a BMW when he was in Boston. “Not so handy on the farm.”

  A frown Jon couldn’t read flitted across Kate’s face before she recovered with, “True. Are you telling me I should be glad it’s not a 1998 Ford 150?”

  “Your dad still has it?” Jon asked. Kate had always been embarrassed when her father picked her up from Mathletes practice in his farm pickup, not that other teammates didn’t have parents driving pickups.

  “He does. He couldn’t bear to trade it in on his new one.”

  Jon opened the trunk and put Kate’s bag in before opening the passenger side door for her. This was good. All he needed to do was keep her talking about her family, friends, anything but him and his family.

  Jon pressed the starter and then the gas, watching Kate from the corner of his eye as she settled in

  “So,” she said once she appeared to be comfortable, “what were you saying about your grandparents?”

  * * *

  After exhausting small talk about Jon’s grandparents, her siblings, work, and the weather, Kate leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the warm morning sun on her face while she listened to the music Jon had put on. Classic jazz, something they had in common besides math.

  “Hey.”

  A motion to her left made Kate jerk upright and glance around. They were on her parents’ road. She’d fallen asleep. Her cheeks flushed with heat that had nothing to do with the sun. She looked at the dashboard clock. She’d been asleep for the past hour with her head leaning toward Jon and her arm resting on the console touching Jon’s thigh.

  Kate smoothed her hair. “Sorry, I wasn’t much company for you on the drive.”

  “No problem.”

  Was that a tinge of pink on his cheeks, or was she projecting her embarrassment onto him? “It’s the next driveway.”

  “I know.” He flicked the directional and pulled in.

  How did Jon know? Before Kate could dissect that bit of information, Ava came bounding out of the house to the car as if she were 10 not 20.

  Ava pulled open the passenger-side door as soon as Jon stopped.

  “You’re here. I thought you were going to text me when you reached Batavia.”

  “Um, I fell asleep sometime before Rochester.”

  Ava grabbed her hand and pulled her out for a hug. “If you’re not driving, you always fall asleep in the car. You should have warned …” She released Kate motioning toward Jon, who’d gotten out and was walking to the back hatch to get Kate’s suitcase.

  “Ava, this is Jon Smith. You’d be too young to remember, but Jon and I went to high school together. We recently ran into each other in the city.”

  “Hi, Ava,” Jon said with a smile that made Kate’s stomach lurch. “You must be the toddler in the car seat who came along for the ride when your father drove Kate and me to Mathletes competitions.”

  “That would be me.” Ava returned Jon’s smile.

  Kate stared at Ava. Her sister wasn’t flirting with Jon, was she? Not that Jon wasn’t flirt-worthy. That is, under the right circumstances. Which this wasn’t.

  Jon closed the back door and joined them on their side of the car. Kate reached for her bag.

  He held on to it for an extra couple of seconds. “I’ll see you Monday. Text me when you’re ready to go.”

  “Don’t you want to come in and say hi to Mom and Dad?” Ava asked, donning their mother’s where are your manners expression.

  “Yes, I’m sure they’d love to see you again.” Kate pulled up the suitcase handle to roll it to the house and hoped her invitation didn’t sound as forced to Jon as it did to her.

  “So,” Ava said, “Where did
you two run into each other?”

  “At work,” Jon answered. “Kate’s my boss.”

  “Get out!” Ava squealed, sizing up Jon before looking at Kate. “Then, you’re not … together.”

  “You’ll have to excuse Ava. She’s recently en—” Ava’s glare stopped Kate from blabbing her sister’s private news. “She’s happily in a relationship and wants to include everyone in her bliss.” Kate cringed. That wasn’t any better than breaking her sister’s confidence. Why was she being so catty to Ava?

  The door to the kitchen swung open and Kate’s mother greeted them. “Jon, come in. Thanks for giving Kate a ride. I almost wouldn’t have recognized you all grown up.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Lewis.”

  Kate caught Jon’s squirm out of the corner of her eye, along with the flash of relief on his face when his cell phone dinged.

  “Sorry. It’s my grandfather. He doesn’t call unless he has a reason.”

  “Of course,” Kate’s mother said. “Take your call, Jon, and then join us in the kitchen.”

  Kate and Ava slipped by and into the house

  Their mother hugged Kate and then held her out at arm’s length, smiling. “How did you run into Jon? You didn’t say in your text.”

  “Wait until you hear,” Ava said before Kate could answer.

  Her mother released her. “Sit and have some iced tea and talk. Your dad should be in soon. You can take your bag up to your room after Jon leaves.”

  Kate glanced back out the kitchen window at Jon smiling at his phone. His grandfather must be okay. Jon lifted his head and their gazes locked long enough for her stomach to flip-flop before she broke the connection. It must be relief that nothing was wrong.

  “Are you hungry?” Mom asked as she placed the pitcher of iced tea on the table. I have a package of those `Nutter Butter cookies you always liked.”

  Hunger. Of course. That’s why her stomach had spasmed like that when Jon looked at her.

  “Or I can make you and Jon sandwiches.”

  “None for me, thanks.” Jon walked in. “I need to get to my parents’ house.”

  Good. Jon wasn’t any more anxious to stay than she was to have him stay.

  “You can have a glass of tea, can’t you?” her mother asked. “Paul will be right in. Kate was about to tell us how you two ran into each other.” She moved one of the tumblers from the middle of the table to the seat next to Kate.

  “I can stay a few minutes.”

  Jon’s leg brushed hers as he took his seat. Kate cleared her throat. “We met at work. Jon is working with my group for the summer.”

  Ava plopped into the seat across from them and glanced from her to Jon. “But that’s not the good part. Kate is Jon’s boss.”

  Kate’s mother pursed her lips. “Small world.”

  Kate knew her mother was proud of her. She also knew Mom was uncomfortable with her living in New York City and her dedication to her career.

  “Yes,” Jon said. “I’m Kate’s assistant. She’s showing me the ropes, for a financial planning course I’ll be teaching at Columbia-Greene Community College.”

  While she didn’t need Jon’s help with her mother, she had to admit that she didn’t mind him jumping in to run interference. She poured Jon and herself a glass of tea. “Your grandfather’s okay? Your phone call?”

  “Oh, yeah. It was good news. One of our cows had twin heifers after I left this morning.”

  They all looked toward the door as Kate’s father joined them.

  “Hi, Jon, good to see you,” he said

  “You, too, Mr. Lewis.” Jon stood and the two men shook hands.

  “I overheard. Your grandfather is still running his dairy farm?”

  “No, we’re running beef cattle. A joint operation.”

  Her father wanted all the details.

  Before Jon got started on those details, Kate said. “I’ll text you Sunday morning about the drive home.”

  “Sure thing,” Jon answered.

  As Jon dived back into his conversation with her dad, Kate excused herself to head upstairs to check her work email—and to avoid any circling back of the conversation to her and Jon.

  Kate hadn’t realized how on edge she’d been until she felt her uneasiness lifting with each step she took toward her childhood room. Two and a half days away from the office. Away from Jon.

  Chapter 4

  Jon didn’t often do stupid things. But he just had. He’d been so comfortable sitting at the Lewis’s kitchen table, drinking Mrs. Lewis’s tea and eating the sandwich she’d made for him. Talking cattle-raising with Mr. Lewis. Putting off going to his parents’ place. When he’d finally risen to leave and Kate’s sister Ava had invited him to her graduation party Saturday afternoon, it had been so easy to say “yes.” Kate’s mother had added that his parents were welcome to come as well.

  A horn honked, and a quarter of the way into the intersection, he slammed on the brakes for the stop sign at the corner of the Lewis’ road and the highway into the Village of Genesee. The driver of the car on the highway shouted something at him that was muted by the closed windows in each car. But Jon could fill in the words. Gripping the steering wheel and breathing deeply to slow his pounding heart, he made his right turn. What was with him, that he’d been that lost in thought? One word lashed in his mind: Kate. No. He wasn’t a love-sick, hormone-driven adolescent anymore. It had to be the prospect of several days with his parents.

  Another car passed him, and he glanced at the speedometer. Forty-five in a 55-mile-per-hour zone. He was doing it again. Jon pressed the accelerator and blanked his mind to anything but his driving until he reached his parents’ home on the outskirts of Genesee. Before getting out of the car, he stared at the house he’d grown up in. It was a similar style to the Lewis’ farmhouse, except that it wasn’t a typical nineteenth century Upstate New York farmhouse. It was a 1980s replica of one. No detail had been spared, right down to the historically correct paint color on the wide-board wooden siding.

  Jon stepped out of the car, grabbed his bag from the back, and took his time making his way up the stone walkway to the side door facing the driveway. He knocked twice before letting himself in. Any resemblance between his parents’ house and the Lewis home ended at the doorway. While the kitchen here had period-perfect wide board flooring and cabinets, it also had every cutting-edge kitchen aid, despite the minimal time either of his parents spent cooking. It also had a sterile quality that contrasted sharply with the homey country kitchen atmosphere of Kate’s family home.

  “Jon, is that you?” his mother called from the equally perfectly appointed dining room adjacent to the kitchen. “I was on my way to answer the door.” She appeared in the doorway frowning.

  “Hello, Mother.” He took the frown to mean he should have waited outside until she got to the door. “How’s Father.”

  She threw up her hands. “He’s only been home two hours and he’s irritable and impatient to be doing things he’s not supposed to be doing yet. If he were his own patient, he’d be referring himself to another surgeon.”

  “Where should I put my bag?”

  “Lynda has the guest room next to your father’s room made up for you.”

  The room that had been his before he’d moved out. Jon smiled to himself at the mention of the housekeeper his parents had had since he was in high school. No doubt they paid her well, but he’d often thought her a saint for what she put up with, working for his parents.

  “Is Lynda here? I’d like to say hello?”

  “No, I gave her the afternoon off, so she can come in tomorrow afternoon and evening to help you. Your father as a patient is two-person job.”

  “Okay. I’ll take my stuff upstairs and check on Father.”

  “He’s resting in the downstairs guest room, but wants to get up already.”

  “I’ll help him.”

  His mother stepped back in the dining room to let him past her. “Then, if you’re hungry, Lynda left you sandwiches
in the refrigerator.”

  “Thanks. I already had something.”

  “Well, I suppose they’ll keep until tomorrow.”

  Jon lifted his bag higher as if to make it a barrier between him and his mother’s disapproval. “I’ll, uh, be right back down.”

  “Good. Your father and I want to talk with you.”

  That was almost an incentive to take his time.

  “Father,” Jon said as he entered the downstairs bedroom after dropping his bag in his old room.

  His father nodded. “So you came. I told your mother I didn’t need a babysitter.”

  Jon stepped toward the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine, except for being tired of resting.” His father sat up, feet dangling over the side of the bed. “Give me a hand.”

  His father leaned on Jon’s arm as he slid off the bed to the floor slipped his feet into his slippers. Then, he let go of Jon’s arm and began a shuffle to the doorway. “The dining room,” he directed. “Your mother and I want to talk to you.”

  Jon followed, fully aware of what they wanted to talk about. Grandpa.

  His mother was already sitting at the dining room table with papers in front of her when Jon and his father walked in and sat down.

  “I had a real estate broker in Hudson give me an estimate of what she could sell the house and land for,” his mother began, sliding a paper to Jon. “A lot of people from the city are buying old farms in Columbia County as second homes.

  He glanced over the paper. The number looked about right to him, except it didn’t account for the home equity loan Grandpa had taken.

  “And,” she continued, “the Firemen’s Home in Hudson expects to have openings soon. The proceeds from the farm sale should cover the costs nicely for quite a while.”

  Jon stared numbly at the Firemen’s Association of New York brochure about the organization’s Firemen’s Home for former volunteer firefighters. “Grandpa doesn’t belong in a nursing home. He can take care of himself.” Mostly. “If he couldn’t, how could I be here helping with Father?” No need to mention the network he had for checking in on Grandpa.