“I’m doing the next one,” John said. Number two went up with equal force and laughter.
“I assume you want the pleasure of doing the final reports,” Willard said.
“I do,” Jesse replied. He lit the other two on fire one by one and washed his hands of Kensie’s curse.
“You should have done that a year ago,” Willard said.
“Everyone should have done it a year ago. We’re not doing lollipop-scented dish soap, and there will be no more cotton-candy-flavored cough syrup. We’re starting a new team as of today.” He pulled out the bottle of Daphne’s cologne and set it in front of Willard. “I want an idea that goes with this scent. We’ll do a mock-up by the next staff meeting. If I’m going down, I’m not going without a fight. And I’m not going while backing fruity, flowery air freshener. I’ve had enough!”
“I think Popeye has just eaten his spinach,” John said.
“Darn straight. It’s about time someone did.”
For some odd reason Jesse didn’t think about Ben, or what tragedy could befall his family if he lost his job. It was time he trusted his gut. Life wasn’t for sissies.
John stared at the ashes that blew under the hood. “What are you going to tell Dave?”
“I’m going to tell him we have the product to put Gibraltar back on the map.”
“Daphne made this?” John asked.
Jesse uncorked the stopper. “Yes.”
Willard breathed in deeply and nodded. “That’s nice. Real subtle-like, and she’s got her notes down. I don’t smell an ounce of alcohol or any of the binders in this.”
He passed the bottle to John, who lifted it to his nostrils and sniffed deeply. Then he swirled the bottle like it was a fine wine and did it again. “You want a masculine scent for a household product?” he asked.
“I want that scent for a product. Laundry detergent. Sporty for soccer moms of winners. Lighten it with some citrus maybe, so it’s not so masculine.”
“Did Daphne give us the rights to the product?” Willard clarified. “And are you sure it’s hers?”
Jesse was certain it was hers, and for that reason alone he owed Daphne an apology. Whatever happened in Paris, whatever Mark had done to get her job, Jesse was certain she’d been the victim. If he never trusted his gut again, he was sure of that.
“This isn’t the way we do things, I understand, but we’re being set up to fail. If we go down in a blaze of glory, I want you all, including Daphne, to have something on your résumé that shows creativity and a marketable scent. You agree that’s marketable?”
The two men nodded in unison.
Willard smiled broadly. “You feel a responsibility toward Daphne already, hmm?”
“Willard, it’s not what you’re thinking. I made a deal with her about staying. Then the minute I doubted her, I reneged.”
“You’re a charmer.”
“She’s in love with her ex-fiancé and still trying to make her way back to Paris. I’m just trying to help you all get where you want to go before we’re all fired.”
“I hope that won’t happen,” Willard said. “I don’t want to go back to the big boys. I like my quiet lab.”
At that moment the door opened and Kensie pushed her way in. She glared at the three of them, then focused on Jesse. “You! What did you say to Dave?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“We’re a team,” Willard said. “But we haven’t had one hit since we went with your marketing plans, Kensie. So we’re trying our own thing. The lab has just gone rogue.”
“We’ll see about that.” She turned and stormed back out.
Willard shook his head. “I pity the man who marries that girl. I imagine she’d call the cops if you left the toilet seat up.”
“She’s only doing what she thinks she has to do to survive,”
Jesse said. “It’s a shame she learned so much from her superiors.”
John cleared his throat. “So, you’re not interested in that new girl, are you?”
“Daphne? Of course not.”
“Good,” John said. “I think I might like a girl like that. Scientists who look like her are usually more apt to be super-models in a music video, but she’s the real thing. She’s got brains and beauty.”
“I’ve met plenty of pretty scientists in my day,” Willard said.
“No,” John said. “You just lost your eyesight a long time ago, and probably imagine they all look like Daphne to build your own ego. Trust me, they don’t.”
Jesse tried to act unaffected by John’s announcement. “Well, make sure you follow the employee handbook for any dating within the workplace. The last thing we need to do is give Dave the chance to fire us before we’ve tried our revolution.”
“Aye aye, captain.”
“But first, I’ve got to go hire her again.”
The men stared at him.
“You understand she’s leaving as soon as she can to go back to Paris.”
“Even better. No commitments,” John said, his eyebrows wiggling.
Jesse would personally hand Daphne back to Mark Goodsmith before he’d let her near John’s clutches, but the truth was, he had some major groveling to do. He wouldn’t blame Daphne if she wouldn’t give him the hot air off her breakfast after the way he’d treated her.
Chapter 15
Daphne was released from the hospital the following day. Anne picked her up in a giant Buick and drove her across town to the quiet suburb where she and Roger lived.
“I don’t know how to thank you for this, Anne.”
“Then don’t,” Anne said simply. “Roger went to the airport to pick up your friend. Sophie, right?”
“Yes, Sophie.”
“How do you two know each other?”
“She lived near me when we were kids, but her parents moved out of the city before we got to middle school.”
“And you stayed in touch? That’s amazing.”
“You’ll see why when you meet her. She’s pretty fantastic. She wrote me letters the whole time I was away at boarding school. Real letters too. It’s not like we had e-mail.”
“She sounds wonderful.”
“She is. I don’t know what I would have done without her. I didn’t have a lot of friends in boarding school.”
“That sounds like a lonely life, Daphne. Did your parents travel as missionaries when you were growing up?”
Daphne’s face felt hot as she explained her parents in the best way she understood. “My parents were pretty important people. They weren’t home very often, and they did a lot of entertaining. So they thought it best that I get a good education without having to be quiet every time they had a dinner party.”
Anne turned, her mouth dangling open. She promptly snapped it shut.
“It’s all right. Really. Lots of kids all over the world go to boarding school, Anne.”
“Oh, I know. I just never met anyone who actually did it.” Anne’s eyes welled. “I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” Daphne said. There she was again, trying to make it better for everyone else.
Anne wiped her eye with the back of her thumb. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I just can’t imagine sending my babies away. It was hard enough to do it when they got old enough to get married.” She laughed. “That’s why I had to go work for Gibraltar—so I’d have somebody to mother.”
At the name of Gibraltar, Daphne felt the sting of rejection all over again. “I’m glad Sophie’s coming. She’ll help me figure out what I’m supposed to do next.”
“I think you’re supposed to sit still,” Anne said. “Daphne, from the sound of it, you’ve spent your entire life moving from place to place. It’s time to make a home, don’t you think?”
“That’s what I thought, but I think God said no when my fiancé bailed on me and then took my job in Paris. With Jesse firing me, I have to consider that maybe I’m not supposed to be here in Ohio either.”
“A person
needs roots. How can you ever feel settled if you’re always in a new place?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt settled. I imagine that would be foreign.” She forced a laugh.
“I’m going to have a talk with Jesse.”
“I wish you wouldn’t. I don’t want to be here if he doesn’t want me. It turns out he didn’t want me to begin with. Dave forced me on him.” She settled back into her seat. “Sophie’s the only person who ever really wanted me around. I thought Mark did, but turns out I was wrong about that too.”
“Well, Roger and I want you. We’re looking forward to having you, and Roger is excited as all get-out to get started on your house. He’s one of the few men I know who love honey-do lists, and the truth is, I don’t have anything left on mine. As it is, he practically makes the bed before I get out of it. If I’m not careful, one of these days I’m going to be molded into hospital corners.”
Daphne couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be married to a man who made the bed. She scrutinized Anne’s profile and tried to find some key, some understanding that unlocked what made her so lovable. The woman had the same sweet nature that Sophie did, but Daphne could never be like either of them. Her hopes for a settled future dwindled with each suburban house they passed.
“It must be hard not to have answers as to why Mark didn’t show up that day.”
Daphne nodded.
“There were no warning signs?”
“I’m sure there were many, but I missed them. I loved him.”
“That’s why they say love is blind. Was he a believer?”
Daphne nodded. “He went to church with me whenever we were together.”
Anne flattened her lips as if that didn’t offer any proof.
“Well, maybe not. But I felt like a princess whenever he was around. He laughed at my jokes. He knew everyone, and he has this way about him that makes people feel important when they’re with him. And he wanted to marry me.” Her countenance fell. “I thought.”
“How long were you engaged?”
“A year, but a lot of that time I was still in Paris finishing up my perfuming degree. We met in chemistry. At UC–Berkeley.”
“It’s probably too soon to know what you learned from that relationship, but I have learned from every relationship in my life. Even the ones that hurt me severely.”
“You had someone hurt you like this?”
“Well, not exactly. I’ve had pastors I trusted turn out to not be as truthful as I liked. I’ve seen men I really admired hurt my husband to get ahead. I think that hurts more, when someone hurts Roger. Or my children.”
Daphne stared out the window and tried to memorize the markers they passed, see how the town was laid out and where she might get groceries if she needed them. She felt ridiculous staying with complete strangers. She didn’t need to be taken care of; she was ready to get back to work. Or work on getting back her sense of smell. Something that gave her a renewed sense of purpose.
“I’m not saying my experiences compare to being left on your wedding day. Just that when people let us down, it’s not always because we did something to deserve it.”
“I’ll never understand what I did to Mark to warrant his treating me that way. As if I were nothing more than something on the bottom of his shoe. I loved him. And even after what he did to me, I can’t bring myself to hate him.”
Anne patted her hand. “Someday someone will be worthy of that love, dear. Mark wasn’t.”
Daphne wondered if anyone had called Mark to tell him of her near-death experience. Would he have cared if she’d died in that rattletrap he’d bought? Would he have taken any responsibility for it? She hated to admit that she still hoped the man she loved might return to her. But had that man ever existed at all, or had she simply created the perfect hero and he fit the suit?
Maybe the hero in her dream—her boss—was meant to represent a different way of looking at life. When she had time, she’d try to figure out what it all meant. Dreams never meant what literally happened in them. She knew that she didn’t harbor romantic thoughts toward Jesse.
While she was in the hospital, Daphne had asked the doctor about her lost sense. They ran a few tests—she didn’t want to think about the cost—but all they’d concluded was that her issue was “psychosomatic.” A cold way to put it, she thought. She supposed if there was any way to reframe the gas incident at the house, besides the fact that she hadn’t been blown to smithereens, it was that her timely passing out had spared her the humiliation of seeing Jesse rescuing her with full cognition. Also, a neighbor, Mr. Riley, was apparently a nice man who’d told Jesse he’d keep watch over the house until she returned. She liked that neighbors still did that. It almost made her want to get a newspaper so someone could collect it when she went on vacation. Maybe she could find a way to make Dayton work, even if Gibraltar hadn’t.
“Here we are.”
Anne’s house stood in a quiet neighborhood with other ranch homes just like it. Sixties, pale yellowish brick halfway up the exterior walls, and the rest white stucco. As they drove up, Anne’s husband came out the door as if he’d been waiting for them with one hand on the doorknob.
“Well, this is our bloom—Daphne, is it? Welcome, welcome!”
Roger had the essence of Santa Claus. If Daphne had to give him a scent, it would be Irish Spring soap. He was a man’s man— big, lumbering, and with a full head of hair that he’d obviously tried to dye into the brown family.
“Welcome to our home. Your friend Sophie’s plane has been delayed, but she called from Denver to tell me she’d take a taxi when she arrives. You Californians are so worried about putting people out. We like to go to the airport. It makes us feel like world travelers, doesn’t it, dear?”
Anne agreed.
“Thank you, Roger. I hope I’m not going to be here too long. I won’t be any trouble.”
“Nonsense. Hasn’t Anne told you? We get lonely when it’s just the two of us. Now, I had a contractor go over to your place this morning—”
“Roger, let her at least get into the house.”
“Sure, sure.” He went right on speaking as they walked inside. “You know, Daphne, it appears that the stove was hooked up wrong. It was just leaking little vapors all along, ever since it was installed. It wasn’t original to the house, so obviously some do-it-yourselfer didn’t know what he was doing. Never play with gas or electricity, Daphne. Most everything else— Oh, and plumbing. You don’t want to mess with any of those things. They can cause so much damage if you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Roger!” Anne chastised. “Let her into the house.”
“She’s in.” Roger took Daphne’s bag.
The house had a low ceiling and was filled with antiques and collectibles on doilies. Everything seemed breakable, and yet it all had obviously made it through the last fifty years. Against one wall there was an enormous elaborate upright piano that looked like it belonged in a church.
“I’m going to put you and Sophie in the boys’ old bedroom, so you can be together. That’s all right, isn’t it?” Anne said.
“It’s perfect.”
“She should be on the plane by now,” Roger said.
Daphne could hardly wait. If she didn’t talk to someone about how she still couldn’t smell—someone who couldn’t fire her—she might go mad. Daphne wasn’t the kind to keep secrets; it was almost worse than losing her sense of smell. She felt like such a fraud, and yet as much as she trusted Roger and Anne, she didn’t know what Jesse had said to Gibraltar about firing her. Considering that she had lied, she figured he had the right to tell whatever story he liked.
Anne pointed to a huge stack of post boxes in one corner. “Those are your wedding gifts. I’ve got them boxed up and ready to send back—I assumed you were sending them back. They were in the hall closet inside the house.”
“Yes, but—I planned to write thank-you notes and tuck them inside. My mother would kill me if I didn’t say a proper
thank-you.”
“No problem. I tucked in a note saying you’d had a small accident and I’d be handling things if they had any questions. I think it’s best to give everyone as little information as possible to cut down on the gossip.”
“Wow, you thought of everything.” They walked back to the living room, and Daphne sank into the sofa, wondering what she’d do with all the time on her hands. “I’ll never be able to thank you.”
“Never mind,” Roger said. “If we only do for people who can do for us back, we have our reward in full. Isn’t this what St. Paul said? ‘Care for the women and orphans’? With your parents off in Europe, you qualify as an orphan. Even if it’s only temporary.”
Daphne smiled, but inwardly she winced. She’d always felt like other friends’ parents parented her while hers were off at opera openings and fund-raisers. Being in a warm, comfortable house only made her think of what she’d thought she’d have with Mark. She’d purposely picked a man who didn’t have aspirations for high society—but apparently he’d had more than she imagined.
“Let me show you to your room,” Anne said again. “It’s right this way.”
They walked down a dark hallway and came to the end of the passage. The room was small and stuffed with furniture from every era. There was a dresser from 1950 or so, big and blocky, and two twin beds without headboards, and an antique rocking chair that looked like it belonged on the front porch of an old-fashioned general store.
“I hope you’ll be comfortable here, but if you need more space, you can take the room next door as well.” Anne sat on the bed. “Daphne, I haven’t heard you release a breath since I picked you up. Relax. People here like to take care of their neighbors.”
“It’s just—I’m not helpless. I can go with Roger to work on the house.”
“I don’t think you realize just how much work that house is going to be. But speaking of work, I’m going to call Jesse and find out what the story is.”
“I wish you wouldn’t. He had his reasons.”
The Scent of Rain Page 16