Catching Serenity

by JoAnn Durgin

  “Mama taught me to crochet and how to cook some of our family’s favorite dishes. She taught me to say please and thank you. We went on fun trips every summer. My parents wanted to make sure I understood the history of my country, so we toured Philly and visited the Liberty Bell and the Betsy Ross House, exhausted all the museums in Washington, D.C., rode to the top of the Empire State Building, visited the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, walked the Freedom Trail in Boston...”

  “They sound terrific,” Jackson said.

  “They were,” she said. “They never missed a parent-teacher meeting, and were right beside me making school projects—active volcano, Indian pueblo and the Alamo included—and helping with Girl Scout field trips. They were very hands-on and involved, not overbearing in any way. Dad used to tell me firefighters don’t always follow the rules, and he seemed proud of that fact.” The corners of her mouth upturned. “He was daring and a risk taker, my brave, strong daddy willing to take on the world for me or my mom.” Her eyes misted and she glanced down at her lap, overcome with emotion.

  “Mama always took me to the beach on Friday mornings during my summer breaks. The only time she missed was when there was a bad wreck on the outskirts of town and she got called to the hospital to help in the ER. She never told me about it, but I found out later there was a six-year-old girl killed by a drunk driver. Things like that affected her deeply, when she saw firsthand the devastation of the family left behind. She got very involved with MADD after that and was the president of the local chapter. I always admired her passion and regret not telling her. At the time she disappeared, they were planning a big MADD event, and that’s one reason I think she might really be gone.”

  She ran a hand across her brow. “She wouldn’t have left them in the lurch, and she’d never willingly devastate her family. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her, and she and Dad were happy. They had a good marriage, a lot of good friends. That’s what makes what happened so hard to accept. She didn’t seem unhappy or depressed. We were very close, and I think I would have suspected something wasn’t right. Even more than me, I’m sure Dad would have known.”

  For two seconds, she thought about showing him the note tucked in her purse. But what would be the point? No sense in dragging Jackson into the quagmire of her life. She needed to do this on her own and she’d already said more than she’d intended. “Maybe there’s something to this psychology thing,” she said. “I managed to get through all that without shedding a tear.”

  “Thanks for sharing,” Jackson said, rising to his feet. Holding out his hand, he helped her do the same. “I promise you, it gets easier.”

  “I guess it does. Time can be a gift from God sometimes. So can the people He brings into our lives. Thanks for listening, Jackson.”

  His smile was as gentle as his voice. “Agreed.” In that moment, something changed between them, something so vivid it was almost tangible. By sharing about her mother, she’d allowed him more access to her life. Perhaps more surprising, she’d wanted to share her memories with Jackson. Was it possible she’d only known him a few days?

  As they continued their work, Jackson told her he’d toured the local historical society museum, enjoyed a cup of Sally’s Famous Lemonade from the cart set up by Queen Victoria’s Park and sampled seafood down by the waterfront. She appreciated his lighthearted approach to their task.

  “Who do we have here?”

  Serenity turned. A wide grin creased her lips when she spied the ceramic giraffe resting on Jackson’s palm. “Arnie! I’ve missed you, my old friend.” She reached for the yellow and brown animal with its ridiculously long neck, misshapen legs and irregular spots.

  Jackson chuckled. “Arnie was wrapped in enough bubble wrap to preserve a mummy. Someone highly valued this little guy.”

  Running her hand over his smooth, shiny back, Serenity smiled. “No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get his legs right and finally sculpted Arnie sitting down, as you can see. I made him in Mrs. Jutz’s third grade art class, and I gave him to Mama for Mother’s Day. I labored over this project and wanted him to be perfect. Obviously, I didn’t achieve perfection.”

  “Probably because perfection’s not possible,” Jackson said. “I’m sure your mother loved it because you made it and she knew you tried your best.” Taking it from her, he turned it upside down and studied the inscription. “I love you, Mama.”

  “Funny how we automatically look to the back or the bottom of things, isn’t it?” she said. “It’s like seeing the date somehow validates it.” After he handed Arnie back to her, Serenity perched him on Kelsie’s desk.

  “It helps keep things in perspective, I suppose. You’re right although I never thought about it that way before.” Jackson’s expression was thoughtful. “Would you consider loaning Arnie to me? I’d like to take him to my office for a couple of weeks.”

  “Let me guess. You want to show him to your patient who likes giraffes?”

  “Exactly. This particular patient isn’t your typical kid. I think he’ll appreciate Arnie.”

  She handed him over. “Sure, you can borrow him, but you have to promise to take excellent care of him and return Arnie in his original, imperfect condition. He’s getting quite old, after all.” She grabbed some of the discarded bubble paper from the floor and gave it to Jackson, observing as he wrapped it around the giraffe.

  “Promise. You know, that’s another thing about kids that I love.”

  Serenity shook her head. Keeping up with this man’s thoughts would be a challenge. “You lost me. What do you mean?”

  “Most kids don’t see things as imperfect. That’s a fault reserved for adults. Kids see them as they are, at face value. For instance, I guarantee you my patients will look at Arnie and they’ll see a really cool, sitting giraffe, not an animal that’s misshapen.”

  “That’s because kids are much better about accepting people with physical deformities or issues,” Serenity said. “A good example of that happened yesterday, as a matter of fact.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I went to lunch with Charlie’s granddaughter, Maya, and her mother. There was a girl in a wheelchair in the restaurant. She had a prosthetic leg. Maya slid out of her chair at one point and talked to her. When she got back, Charlotte—her mom—asked what she’d said. The first thing Maya asked the girl? ‘Does it hurt?’ How many adults would think to even ask something like that?” Serenity shook her head. “We’re too wrapped up in our own lives”—she paused to consider the irony as she glanced at Arnie entombed in the bubble wrap—“and we don’t ask the simple but most important questions.”

  “A lot of people have compassion, but they’ve been sensitized through the years and don’t feel comfortable discussing someone else’s pain. Ever consider psychology as a career?”

  “No,” she said, wiping away a stray tear, embarrassed. “If anything, I belong on the other end of the spectrum.”

  Jackson tilted his head and stepped closer, making her pulse erratic. His eyes searched hers. “Does it hurt, Serenity?”

  She managed a small smile, marveling how this man seemed to know her already. How was that possible? “Let’s save that discussion for another day.”

  “Fair enough. How about I empty a couple more boxes and then take you to lunch?” he said.

  “Jackson, not that I don’t appreciate your help, but I’m afraid I won’t get much work done with you around.”

  “I’m helping a friend and I disagree. We’re getting a lot done here. Only two more boxes left, by my count.” Crouching beside another box, he glanced her way as he opened it. “You artfully evaded my question, you know. Seems you have an uncanny knack for doing that. It’s quite a talent.”

  An involuntary shiver ran through her. “What question? I’m sure I don’t remember.”

  “Cold?”

  Jackson’s powers of observation were equal parts unnerving and wonderful. She crossed her arms over her mid-section.

  “Give me one g
ood reason,” he said.

  “You’re being obtuse again. A reason why I’m cold?” With Jackson in the same room—pretty much the same town, hemisphere or planet—no way she’d be cold. What she didn’t want to do was explore the reasons why.

  “A reason why you can’t, or won’t, have lunch with me. And the words ‘paying client’ aren’t allowed. Wait a minute.” He raked his hand through his hair and gave her a sheepish grin. “That sounded a whole lot better in my head.” The look on his face was so little-boy cute she melted a little more inside. “Bottom line? If I have to, I’ll fire you.”

  She gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

  “I might.” He didn’t flinch.

  “Just to get me to go to lunch with you? That’s extreme, don’t you think? Coercion isn’t seemly, Dr. Ross. Neither is pushiness.”

  He chuckled. “I haven’t heard the word ‘seemly’ used by anyone younger than eighty, but what do you say we discuss it together over a meal?”

  Picking up a ball he’d fashioned from used strapping tape, Serenity tossed it at him. Jackson laughed and dodged it. “You’re as bad as Deidre in being relentless until you get what you want, aren’t you? Remind me never to get you two in cahoots.”

  He laughed outright at that one. “Cahoots? Serenity, you’re absolutely priceless.”

  “You’re making fun of me now? Maybe I’ll quit and then you can fend for yourself with decorating that office of yours. Better yet, I’ll withdraw the offer to loan Arnie to you.”

  “You didn’t offer, I asked. Big difference.”

  Oh my goodness, you’re flirting. Stop that!

  Seeing the look on his face, she raised one hand. “If you care anything about me, you’d know firing me could destroy my professional reputation in this town. Don’t forget we have the playground project, too. I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing.” She blew out a mock sigh. “You’re impossible.”

  “Well, you’re right about one thing, Ms. McClaren. We couldn’t have that. The professional reputation destroying part.” He rubbed a hand over his chin as if contemplating all the available options. The gleam in his eye should stop her but only served to encourage her.

  “I don’t need you to humiliate me, Dr. Ross. I’ve already done that fine on my own. I’m trying to get a fresh start here. Have a heart.” This conversation was absurd but wonderful.

  “Oh, I definitely have a heart,” Jackson said. “It’s making itself known right now, as a matter of fact.”

  Serenity’s heart pounded as he moved closer. What’s he doing? She took a step backward.

  Kelsie breezed through the door, bringing sunlight into the small office as well as some kind of light, fruity scent. “Howdy hey! Don’t let me interrupt.” She tossed her purse on the floor beside the desk. “You two are having way too much fun. This is a place of business and I need to get back to work. I have a boss who depends on me, you know?” Giving them an impish grin, she eyed the items from the boxes they’d stacked on her desk. “Guess you’ve been busy, but if you two kids want to get friendly, you’ll have to take yourselves elsewhere.”

  Serenity glared at Jackson who appeared much too smug for her liking. “Now, see what you’ve done? Have you no shame?”

  “Don’t forget Old Persimmonhead standing on the outside looking in,” Kelsie said with a grin as she angled her head toward the window.

  Serenity groaned while Kelsie and Jackson exchanged amused glances.

  “I guess that’s what you get for having windows in your office,” Jackson said.

  “Not helping,” Serenity said under her breath. “Who doesn’t have windows? Without them, it’d be positively claustrophobic in this small of a space.”

  “We couldn’t have that,” Kelsie added.

  This was weird considering Jackson said the exact same thing although the subject was different. Serenity looked from Jackson to Kelsie. “I take it you two have met?”

  “Yeah, at Cup & Such,” Kelsie said. “It’s the happening place between seven and nine in the morning. You should come by and bring your dad sometime, Serenity. Jackson’s starting a study group on Wednesdays with some of the high school boys, right Doc?”

  “Right.” For whatever reason, Jackson seemed a bit embarrassed.

  “A Bible study?” Serenity said.

  “That, too,” he said. “Whatever subject they need help with, academic or otherwise. It’s kind of an all-inclusive study group.”

  “Don’t be surprised if the guys ask you a ton of questions and try to pick your brain,” Kelsie said, settling in her chair. “They think it might help them understand girls with you being a psychiatrist and all.”

  “Psychologist.” They’d simultaneously corrected Kelsie.

  “Yeah, well, good luck with that,” Jackson said, shooting her a grin. She felt like throwing something at him again.

  “The good doctor brought in his signed contract, Kelsie.” Grabbing a pen from the holder on the desk, she signed it. “I need you to copy it, give Dr. Ross a copy and start a new file, please. Then I need you to call Thompson Lighting about the lamps for his office. Oh, and we need to also contact Lewis Manufacturing for that ridiculously overpriced chair he wants.”

  Kelsie saluted. “Sure thing, boss. Give me a minute to warm up the copier.”

  Serenity turned to Jackson. “I can take it from here, but I appreciate your stopping by and your help with...Arnie and everything.”

  “Always happy to help you, Serenity.” Stepping close, he lowered his voice. “Don’t be too hard on Kelsie. She’s a good kid and has your best interests at heart.”

  That stymied her. “Am I being hard on her? Kelsie’s my employee and I need to keep her busy. She was a little impertinent, after all.” She frowned. “Don’t you dare make fun of that word. It’s valid.” She lowered her voice. “Did I really come across like a taskmaster?”

  Jackson tweaked her chin. “A beautiful one.”

  She blew out a breath. “Must you keep saying things like that?”

  “Yes, but if it makes you too uncomfortable, I’ll try to stop.” The sudden seriousness in his eyes told her he meant his words.

  “You don’t—”

  “Here you go,” Kelsie said as she came back into the room and handed Jackson an envelope. “I gave you two copies for good measure.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll see you later, Kelsie.” Swooping the stuffed giraffe under one arm, Jackson headed for the door. “Maybe you should follow the tradition at Martha’s Cup & Such and install a bell on your office door. You never know what riff raff might decide to drop by.”

  “Bye, Doc Jack!” Catching Serenity’s stare, Kelsie buried her head in a spreadsheet.

  Halfway out the door, Jackson gave her his easy and all-too-familiar grin. “So, I take it lunch is out for today?” A light flickered in those gorgeous dark eyes as she walked toward him.

  “Maybe another time. I’ll call you this afternoon once I find out the availability of the lamps and armchair.”

  “I see. Back to business. Fine. I’ll look forward to hearing from you again soon.” With a salute, Jackson departed.

  Remembering Arnie, Serenity grabbed him from the chair and yanked open the door. “Wait a minute!” Jackson turned, brows raised, his expression one of pleased surprise. “Here.” She hurried down the sidewalk. Catching up to him, she offered bubble-wrapped Arnie on her outstretched palm. “I can’t think of a better home than your office. Keep him. The kids might like him.” Thinking better of it, she pulled back her hand. “Forget it. I guess that’s a dumb idea. Arnie’s not very pretty...” Her voice trailed as Jackson slowly closed his fingers around hers.

  “Thank you.” He waited until she met his eyes. “Arnie was made with loving hands by a little girl for her mother, and kids can relate to that. I’ll highly value him and I’m sure he’ll become a favorite.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I’d really like that.”

  “I’ll talk to you soon.�
�� With Arnie clasped in his hand, Jackson turned to go. She watched as he headed down the street, stuffed giraffe under his arm and whistling as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

  Going back into her office, Serenity paused. A woman stood on the street corner the next block over. That wouldn’t be unusual except for the fact she was looking straight at her instead of watching Jackson like most women in their right mind would do. With dark, wraparound sunglasses and a white floppy hat pulled low on her head, it was impossible to see her hair color or guess her age. Tall and thin, she wore casual, white workout clothing—pants and a stretchy T-shirt and tennis shoes, also white. Perhaps sensing Serenity’s attention, the woman turned and strolled in the opposite direction a few paces behind Jackson. She carried no purse or shopping bag. Although it could mean nothing, Serenity couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

  “Well, that was fun,” Kelsie said when she came back in the office.

  “That’s because Doc Jack makes anything fun. Don’t you have some work to do?” Her mind spinning, Serenity headed toward her office.

  Kelsie laughed. “I’m on it, boss. Thompson Lighting...looking it up now.”

  ~CHAPTER 10~

  On Wednesday morning, Justin shifted in his chair. From the way he stared at the bookcase, Jackson could tell he’d spied Arnie. Scrambling down from his chair, the boy walked over to the bookcase and reached for the ceramic giraffe. Jackson expected Mrs. Johnson to stop him. Darting a glance in her direction, he noted her pinched lips and the set of her jaw although she remained silent.

  The child stopped with one hand poised in front of the shelf and shot him a sheepish grin over one shoulder. “Doc Jack, can I please see your giraffe?”

  “Sure thing. That’s Arnie. Hold on a second and I’ll get him down for you.” Pulling Arnie from the shelf, Jackson handed him over.

  “Be careful, Justin,” Mrs. Johnson said. “That’s breakable and it might be valuable to the doctor. He’s got the bigger giraffe if you want to hold him instead.”

  “I promise I’ll be careful. I like Arnie.” The boy ran his hand over the smooth, shiny contours of the giraffe and circled his finger over one of the irregular brown spots. When he turned it over to inspect the bottom, Jackson smiled. “I love you, Mama,” Justin read before handing him back. “Did you make this for your mommy?”