Mornings on Main

by Jodi Thomas

  “I don’t think so.” He smiled. “You never did it again. I was sorry for that. I used to ride by on my bike just to make sure.”

  She watched Reese work. “Have I ever lied to you, Reese?”

  “Nope,” he answered. “You usually don’t even bother talking to me.”

  “Then believe me now. I am not involved in any way with Derrick. He just offered to drive me home.”

  “Someone needs to tell him that. Everyone’s asking him how you are. You’d think by the way he talks that he’s nearly one of the family.”

  “I plan to correct him, if I ever see him again. Then I’m giving up even talking to guys altogether. It’s a bother I don’t need. I plan to be someone. They’ll put a sign up at the edge of town someday. Sunnie Larady was Born Here. I don’t see that happening if I talk to Derrick often.”

  “I believe you. I figured Derrick out the first week in biology.” He grinned. “That sounds super about you wanting to make the town proud. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

  He went back to measuring, but at least he’d listened to her. Sunnie curled into one of the porch chairs. Since she was awake she might as well talk to someone. “What about you, Reese? What do you plan to do?”

  “Dad says he’ll bring me into the business at full salary after I graduate. If it works out, I could be a partner by the time I’m twenty-one. Doing odd jobs and remodels keeps us busy, but I’d like to build houses someday. I can already read the plans as good as my pop can.”

  “As well,” she corrected, then felt bad about it. Not everyone’s father was an editor. “Have you ever thought of being an architect and actually designing the homes you build?”

  He shrugged and shook his head. “That would be something. I did design this ramp though, so I guess that’s a start.” Reese pulled out a scrap of paper from his back pocket. “It’s kind of like a puzzle figuring out exactly how to put it together, how much supplies, how much incline. Funny, before I started helping Pop I didn’t care much about math, but now it’s my favorite subject.”

  He hadn’t offered the paper to her, so she stepped off the porch and took it from his hand. It made little sense to her. The drawing looked like some kind of modern art sketch with numbers floating around it.

  He bumped her shoulder with his. “I wanted the ramp long enough so your gram could roll herself up without too much effort and wide enough she wouldn’t scrape her hands.”

  “This is great.” Reese Milton had impressed her. “Could you use a little help?”

  His eyebrows rose to the rim of his baseball hat. “Sure. If everything I’ve already cut is right, this should fit together pretty fast. Another pair of hands would really come in handy.”

  An hour later, the ramp was taking shape when she saw Derrick’s car turn the corner.

  “Reese, did you brush your teeth this morning?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Would you kiss me?”

  While he thought about it, she leaned over and kissed him. Thankfully, he didn’t pull away. Not until Derrick had driven by.

  When she leaned back, Reese just stared at her. She couldn’t tell if he liked the kiss or not. In truth, she really didn’t care. The show was for Derrick’s sake. Now maybe he’d get the hint that she wasn’t his girl and never would be.

  “Where’d you learn to kiss?” she snapped at Reese.

  “You have to learn?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me this was your first kiss. No one makes it to sixteen without being kissed.”

  “I’m still fifteen. I don’t turn sixteen for two more months.”

  “I guess you don’t have a girlfriend, then?”

  “No. I don’t have time.”

  “Good. You mind if I’m your girlfriend until Derrick goes away? You wouldn’t have to do anything and I’m not kissing you again, I promise.” She frowned at him. “You’re still fifteen. Somehow, kissing a fifteen-year-old just seems wrong.”

  “What happens when I turn sixteen?”

  “We break up. Are you okay with helping me or not?”

  “Let me get this right. I’m your boyfriend?”

  “Right.”

  “Until Derrick gives up on his lie and goes away.”

  “Right. This isn’t rocket science, Reese. All I’m asking is for a few weeks at the most.”

  “All right, I’ll help you out. I’ll be your new boyfriend, but you have to help me out on all that entails. Any chance, since you’re my girlfriend, that I’d get to see you naked again?”

  She caught his shoulder with one swing and sent him rolling over the ramp.

  He bounced, landing on his feet and rubbing his arm. When he grinned at her, she knew he was kidding her. “I was just asking to see if you’ve changed. I was kind of hoping your chest might have popped out.”

  “It doesn’t work that way and don’t ask again.”

  “I think I’ll remember.” He rubbed his arm. “I’m guessing the answer’s no anyway.”

  She thought of hitting him again.

  Reese was smart enough to change the subject. “How about we get back to work before I’m too beat up to swing a hammer.”

  When she moved closer, he flinched. “I didn’t know having a girlfriend would involve pain.”

  She felt sorry for him. Reese hadn’t asked for this and he was being good-natured about the whole thing. “Tell you what I’ll do.” She patted his shoulder. “You be my boyfriend long enough to get rid of Derrick, and I’ll teach you to kiss before we break up.”

  “Fair enough, but you have to promise to tell Brianna Baxter that I’m a great kisser.”

  She hit him again on the shoulder, but this time he absorbed the blow without moving. “Don’t tell me you like Brianna because she’s popped out?”

  “No. I like the way she giggles at everything I say.”

  Sunnie shook her head. “You two were made for each other.”

  “So you’ll tell her?”

  “All right. I promise, if you’ll be my boyfriend and swear you’ll not tell anyone it’s only a trick we’re playing to get rid of Derrick.”

  As she helped him build the ramp, Sunnie decided it wasn’t half-bad having Reese around. He wasn’t popular and his clothes were nothing special, but he was nice and he made her laugh.

  She could get used to that.

  17

  The hours flew by on Jillian’s first day without Gram at the quilt shop. Most people just came in to ask about the accident, and they all wanted details.

  She finally realized how important the shop was to the town...how important Gram was to them. It reminded her of a fairy tale where one old woman was the heart of the village. Gram kept the stories. Lived through all their lives with them.

  Over and over she heard them say things like, “She was there when...” or, “It wouldn’t be Christmas if Gram wasn’t...”

  Gram had walked through all their memories. At birthdays, weddings, christenings, funerals. She’d woven herself into the fabric of their lives simply by caring.

  A few times, as people talked and reminisced, Jillian would ask if anyone remembered a Jefferson James or maybe his wife Marti James who might have lived here thirty years ago. Jefferson was tall, thin, and had Jillian’s dark hair and eyes.

  No one offered one clue. Jillian might have her papa’s logbook with this zip code penciled in, and Laurel Springs was within the circle around Oklahoma City that was close enough to drive to in one night, but if he ever stopped here, he didn’t stay long enough to leave an impression.

  The next zip code was in southern Kansas. Maybe in a few months, she’d try up there. Deep down she knew she was wasting her time looking for a ghost, but somehow, living in this town, among these people, made her long for something she’d never had. A home. A place she was from.

 
; If her father had wanted to find her, all he’d had to do was read the letter she’d left him. But he hadn’t opened it.

  Closing her eyes, she forced back tears. If he didn’t care about her, or think about her, why had he taken the picture? It had to be her father. Anyone else would have left the school snapshot and taken the money.

  Sometime in the past few years he’d stopped by the library. Maybe he didn’t take the time to read the letter. Maybe he didn’t care enough to leave her a note. But he’d taken the picture. One memory of his daughter. The school picture was nothing special, only it was the one memory he’d ever taken away with him that she knew about.

  It made no sense. Just one more mystery in her life packed with unanswered questions.

  Connor called a few times while she worked, with updates on Gram. He reported them like news blasts. “The head nurse informed me Gram made it through the night in the hospital without problems. They’ll be releasing her around five. The nurse also ordered a hospital bed delivered to my house. With the new wing at the Acres not ready, we all agreed, with a few adjustments, my place would be best. Gram’s insisting Sunnie and I keep our schedules but she’ll never be alone. I’ll make sure of that.”

  “She comes with her own bed?” Jillian tried to lighten his mood.

  He didn’t take the hint. “It’s going to have to be set up in the dining room of my place before I get her home. All my bedrooms are upstairs, but there’s a bathroom off the kitchen that has a shower. We’ll make her comfortable there.”

  Connor also conveyed that, since the shop opened today, Gram had asked him, at least once an hour, how Jillian was handling the quilters. “You’d better say great or she’ll steal a wheelchair and come check on you.”

  “I’m fine. You’re the one with your hands full.”

  Connor didn’t argue. “I plan to keep the night nurse coming to the house until Gram is mobile again, then we’ll switch to just having a caregiver come by during the day. Between Sunnie and me, we can handle the meals, and thanks to Stella, she’ll have round-the-clock friends dropping in to keep her company or bring lunch.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Jillian was surprised at just how much she meant the words.

  “You’re doing the most important job. You’re taking care of her shop. Don’t be surprised if she wants a full reporting each day.” He hesitated. “Thanks for being by my side through all this.”

  She didn’t know if he meant during the day at the hospital, or Monday night when they’d slept curled up on the couch.

  The door chimed and she said a quick goodbye, then went to greet two ladies who were looking for OOP fabric—out of print—by Tula Pink. They said they wanted to finish a quilt started years ago.

  Jillian had no idea what they were talking about, but she said they were welcome to look.

  Joe Dunaway stopped by the shop about noon with a bag of donuts. He’d finally abandoned his post by Gram’s hospital bed. He claimed there were too many people around to really talk to her. “She ran me off, telling me I needed to get some rest. You’d think all last night would have been enough. I slept like a baby with all them machines humming away around me. But when Jeanie makes her mind up, she’s a hard woman to argue with. You’d think every decade or so she’d let me win one argument.”

  Even in his grumbling, he seemed tickled that Gram was fussing over him and Jillian did the same, offering him coffee and trying to talk him into eating one of the salads she’d stocked in the tiny fridge.

  Jillian also suspected Joe was Gram’s spy. When she confronted the old man, he didn’t bother to deny it. His assignment from Gram was to check up on what was happening at the shop at least once a day. “Course, I won’t stay long. I got a business to run.”

  He did, however, plant his old body at the counter stool and answered questions like he was a newly installed information desk attendant.

  Joe tried to play down his part in the rescue, but everyone knew he was Gram’s hero. He’d found her in the tall grass by the creek and carried her back to his truck. When they arrived at the hospital the emergency staff claimed it was hard to tell which one had the most mud caked on—the patient or the rescuer.

  He told the same story over and over to everyone who walked in.

  “I knew her leg was broken, just by the angle of it, but I didn’t want to scare her, so I told her it was just a sprain. I wrapped my jacket around her knee and tied it with the sleeves so I wouldn’t bump it against anything and cause her more pain. Jeanie don’t like to be lied to, but I figured she’d forgive me this one time.” He laughed. “Course, I lied again this morning when I said she looked great. Truth is, she’s got scratches on top of scratches and is as pale as the sheets. I’m just hoping she heals a bit before she gets near a mirror.”

  After he finished off most of the donuts, Joe left, claiming he needed to get over to Connor’s house and make sure them boys from the delivery service had Gram’s bed put together right.

  “You staying there until Connor brings her home?” Jillian asked.

  Joe shook his head. “I’ll check on her later, after she’s settled in. I need to get back to work. Those Toe Tents won’t make themselves. I got to get a dozen ready. I got investors coming in later today.”

  No one believed him, but a few of the quilters offered to drop by his workshop and help him with the stretching of material over his frames.

  Jillian couldn’t help but feel that Joe was slowly drawing people into his crazy plan to get rich. He even offered her a half-price special on the first dozen made.

  Joe stayed true to his word. The next morning he was back with his bag of donuts and a new report on how Gram was doing.

  Jillian loved having him near. This way she could know everything that was going on with the Laradys without having to question Connor.

  About five, Sunnie stopped by to collect a few things from the shop for Gram. Apparently she needed her sewing basket because the quilting club was bringing supper tonight, and she might feel like working on one of the projects she kept stuffed in the bottom of her huge bag.

  Sunnie lifted the bag in one hand and the sewing basket in the other as if they were dumbbells. “Gram calls this her UFO bag. It’s full of UnFinished Objects. I think all quilters have them.”

  The girl hesitated at the door, then added, “Dad said if the women do come over, I can go get a pizza with Reese. He’s been hanging around helping get everything installed that Gram needs.” Sunnie grinned. “The guy is kind of growing on me. And, face it, anything’s better than sitting around that circle.”

  “Reese the new boyfriend Joe told me about?” Jillian winked as if silently agreeing to keep a secret.

  Sunnie shook her head, making her sunshine hair fly. “No. Well, maybe. Yes, I guess. He’s more just a friend. He can’t even drive legally, but he does it anyway. He started hauling building material for his dad before he was fifteen. Our part-time sheriff, Thornton Daily, says as long as Reese doesn’t have a wreck or go outside the city limits, he can help his dad out, but that’s all. So, if we go for pizza, he’ll probably be hauling toilets for the remodel.”

  She still looked confused. “So it’s not a date. Or, if it is, it’s a really strange one.”

  Jillian just nodded as she started logging in another quilt. She guessed that the girl simply needed to talk, and she didn’t mind listening while taking pictures of the next quilt. “The strange dates can be fun.”

  Sunnie helped Jillian as she rattled on. “Old Thornton has his own way of doing things. He’s been a sheriff since the Stone Age. Every Fourth of July, when all the oil field workers for a hundred miles around come over for our rodeo and dance, Sheriff Daily sets up horse trailers in both directions leaving the rodeo grounds. When the drunks walk out looking for their cars, he walks them right into the trailers. Locks the gates. Lets them out in the morning.

>   “Dad says, come dawn, they’re hungover and mad as hell, but when they find out there is no fine, they thank the sheriff and go home.

  “If we go for pizza, that will leave Dad with Gram and the quilters.” Sunnie seemed like she was finally getting to the point. “How about you talk to Dad and ask him out to eat? You’d be saving his life, trust me.”

  “So if this Reese is more friend than boyfriend, maybe your dad could just tag along with you guys and eat pizza.”

  Sunnie giggled. “Oh, no. If you ask him out, promise you’ll take Dad somewhere else. It’ll be embarrassing enough to be with a guy younger than me. The last thing I want is Dad watching, or worse, trying to talk to us.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Jillian watched Sunnie lug Gram’s bags to the door. “Don’t worry. I’m sure your father will find someplace to escape to besides the Pizza Place.”

  As Sunnie disappeared, other people were coming inside. To talk. To buy a few things. To look around. There would be no more logging quilts today.

  By closing time Jillian realized one other fact. There was no one in her life, not one person, like Gram. She’d never thought to ask her father what his mother’s name had been or where his people had come from. He probably wouldn’t have answered her anyway. All he’d ever told her about her mother was that she went by Marti.

  They must have married, because she’d put Marti James on Jillian’s birth certificate and left most of the other information blank. When she’d asked him to tell her about their marriage, Papa had said there wasn’t much to it. They just said the words to each other one night.

  Jillian could almost hear his sad words crossing twenty years of time in her mind. Your mom said it counted because we meant it forever. But it turned out that kind of ceremony doesn’t count. She was wrong about the forever part, too. I didn’t see her much after her family found out she was pregnant, but she promised she’d call when the baby came. She said we’d run away as soon as she could leave the hospital and I promised I’d be there to raise the kid we made.