Plain Jayne

by Laura Drewry

  Anger.

  Who the hell did he think he was? He had a girlfriend! All Jayne had done was agree to go for a drink with someone. A nice someone; someone he even liked, so what the hell was his problem?

  He was the one who kept telling her how she deserved someone better than Barry, and besides, what the hell business of his was it who she went out with? She didn’t tell him who he should or shouldn’t date!

  By the time Jayne thought to drink her tea, it was long since cold, and several hours had passed. Time sure flew when you were pissed off. It didn’t surprise her when a text from Nick suddenly buzzed her phone in the middle of the night; what did surprise her was that it flashed through her mind to ignore it.

  Can I come in?

  She stared at the message for a few seconds before heading to the back door. Before she was halfway through the store, her phone buzzed again.

  Front door.

  Fighting back a growl, she banged her phone down on the counter, accidentally knocked her mug over, and sent cold tea all over the day’s mail.

  Muttering a not-so-ladylike curse, she fumbled with the front door lock, and pulled it open to find Nick standing right in the frame, his hands braced against either side. He looked like crap, pathetic really, and for an instant she almost let herself walk straight into his arms. Instead, she straightened her spine—a new appendage she was still getting used to—and stared up at him with what she hoped was a look of angry expectation.

  “What?” Jayne held the door with one hand and pressed the other against her stomach, willing it to stop cartwheeling.

  He looked down, closed his eyes for a second, then seemed to drag his gaze back up to hers. Good. He felt bad. He should. “I’ve been sitting out here in my truck wishing I could come up with something that would explain why I was such a …”

  “A what?” she asked when he didn’t finish. “A stupid shit?”

  His mouth twisted a little as he sighed. “Yeah.”

  “And what did you come up with?” She was shocked at the strength in her own voice. Apparently so was he.

  “Nothing,” he finally said, his voice low. “Not a damned thing.”

  “That’s what I thought.” She turned around, leaving the door to slide closed, but Nick pushed it open and followed her inside.

  “Jayne, wait.”

  Funny, that’s what she’d said to him a few hours ago, and he hadn’t even slowed down, but now she was supposed to do what he wanted? Oh, she didn’t think so.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was right behind her, so soft, so tempting.

  “Whatever.” She grabbed a dust rag from behind the counter and started mopping up the tea mess until Nick reached out and tugged the cloth out of her hands.

  “I mean it. I’m sorry.”

  “I know.” Jayne didn’t look at him, but even so, she could feel the heat of his gaze, knew he probably wanted to just hug her in the hopes that would make everything better. And for twenty-five years, it always had, but now …

  Now it would only make things worse.

  She lifted the pile of mail, watched the tea drip from the envelopes for a few seconds, then threw the whole pile back on the counter. Heaving a heavy sigh, she slumped back against the counter until she was sitting on the floor, her face buried in her hands. A second later, he slid down next to her.

  “I don’t know what that was before,” he muttered. “It just surprised me.”

  “What?” she snorted. “The idea that someone who’s not a complete asshole actually showed interest in ol’ Plain Jayne?”

  “Don’t—! No.” He sat with his knees bent, his hands clenched straight on top. “It caught me off guard is all, and I guess I’m … I’m not ready to share you with anyone else yet.”

  “You’re not ready to share me?” Jayne sucked in a breath and let her head fall back against the counter. “I’m not a bucket of Legos that you get to divide up between your little buddies, Nick.”

  “I know. I didn’t mean … damn it.” He twisted his body so he sat facing her now. “I don’t know what to do here, Jayne. Tell me how to fix this and I will.”

  Nick—always the fixer. It drove him crazy if he couldn’t figure something out, and this … well, she couldn’t help him because she had no idea.

  “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “Maybe it can’t be fixed.”

  If she wasn’t so exhausted, she might have laughed at the frown that took over his face then; as though his brain refused to comprehend what she’d just said.

  “But you’re still mad.”

  “I’m not mad,” she sighed. “I’m … confused.”

  She sat up and took his hand in hers, offering a small smile. “Do you remember the day I arrived, we were in your truck, you were being your pushy obnoxious self, and what did I say?”

  His frown eased a little, and his mouth twitched ever so slightly. “You said it was going to be weird.”

  Jayne lifted her right hand in the air, palm out. “Called it. Everything’s happened so fast; between the store, your work, Katie having a baby, us living together … we haven’t had time to figure out what’s what.”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “Come on, Nick,” she sighed. “I move back here after being gone twelve years and we pick up as though nothing’s happened; like we’re fifteen again and you think you need to look after me.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “No, it’s not bad. It’s just … I don’t know.” She fell back against the counter again and rubbed her face with her hands. “Maybe if we hadn’t spent so much time apart the last twelve years, or so much time together the last six weeks, or if you didn’t treat me like … it’s just weird.”

  “It’s not weird!” His voice strained, as though he was trying very hard not to yell. “This is how I’ve always treated you, so what’s different now? You’re my family, Jayne.”

  If he’d slashed her open with a razor-sharp machete, it couldn’t have cut as deep or as fast. It sucked the breath from her lungs and left her unable to do anything but blink. Her whole life, Jayne had wanted a family. No, she’d wanted Nick’s family, and here he was, giving her exactly what she’d wanted.

  Shit.

  Lisa was right. Jayne was like a sister to him. Don’t cry. For God’s sake, do not cry.

  She knew this was how he felt, she’d always known, so why was it unimaginably worse to hear him say it, to hear the very words slip from his tongue with such ease?

  “Jayne?”

  She needed to get a grip—and fast—or this was going to go from agonizing to beyond excruciating. She was the one who’d told Ellie the only thing that mattered was keeping Nick in her life, however she could get him.

  Well, apparently, she was getting him as a brother.

  “You okay?” Nick asked.

  Breathe, Jayne.

  “I’m fine,” she croaked. “Can we please just talk about something else?”

  Smile. There you go. Good.

  “But—”

  “I swear to God, Nick …”

  “Okay, okay.” His jaw tightened in that way that told her he wasn’t done with this conversation. Too bad, because she was good and done with it. In fact, she was counting the minutes until he left on his stupid trip so she could catch her breath, maybe remember how to live without him in her life every single minute.

  Neither one of them moved. It was all Jayne could do to force air in and out of her lungs; the idea of standing was too much to even consider at that moment. God only knew why Nick didn’t get up off the floor.

  “How’s Maya?” he finally asked.

  Yes. Good. Talk about someone else’s problems.

  “Miserable.”

  Nick cringed. “What’s she going to do?”

  “She’s going to stay here until we can figure something out.”

  “Here?” he gaped. “There’s barely room upstairs for one person, never mind two.”

  “Doesn’
t matter,” she shrugged. “She’s not going back to him, and if it means I sleep on the couch until we find her a place, then that’s what I’ll do. She’d do the same for me.”

  Jayne swallowed hard. It wasn’t so long ago she’d been in Maya’s place; the humiliation had been overwhelming, in part because Barry hadn’t even tried hard to hide things, and because he knew Jayne would blame herself, which she did, just as Maya was doing now. But Jayne would be damned if she’d let Maya go another day feeling powerless in her own life.

  After another couple minutes, Nick pushed to his feet and held out his hand for Jayne. Still shaky, she let him help her up, praying her legs held.

  “Are we good?” he asked, still holding her hand, still smiling down at her.

  She sighed over a half shrug, half nod. “I’m still going out with Brett tomorrow night.”

  His smile dropped, his jaw like rock. “Can I just tell you—”

  “No, you can’t.” She jerked the door open and gestured for him to go. “You’ve done a lot for me, Nick, but that doesn’t give you any right to make decisions for me or to tell me who I can and can’t go out with.”

  “I just—”

  “Good night.” With a not-so-gentle push, she shoved him out the door and locked it behind him.

  How long did she stand there after he left? She had no idea; the only thing she knew for certain was she was going to drop any second, and it was a hell of a long way to the back of the store and up those thirteen stairs.

  She grabbed her mug and the stack of mail and began the trek up to the sofa. As she hit the top step, Maya came out of the bathroom, looking as crappy as Jayne felt.

  “What a pair we are,” Maya chuckled, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it.

  They made their way over to the couch and flopped down on it.

  Jayne took Maya’s hand and squeezed it. “Sorry if we woke you.”

  “Bah,” she smiled feebly. “Sleep’s overrated.”

  “Agreed. Why sleep when we can sit here staring at the wall?”

  Maya reached for the remote on the table and flicked the TV on. “You never know what old movies they’re going to show in the middle of the night.”

  “Right.” As Maya flicked channels, Jayne started opening the mail. Phone bill, power bill, and a note from Dr. Woodrow Reimer, DDA, to remind Gran that she was due for her semiannual dental cleaning.

  Way to keep on top of things, Doc.

  She ripped open the last envelope and pulled out the folded paper. A small key was taped to the bottom of the page, a letter from Gran’s lawyer.

  Dear Ms. Morgan,

  Please find enclosed a key to storage locker number 427 at Lakeside Storage. The unit belonged to your grandmother, Tilly Morgan, and was bequeathed to you as part of her estate. However, on her specific instruction, you were to receive this key only if you reopened the bookstore.

  As it has become evident that is what you intend to do, we are happy to forward the key to you and hope you will find everything in order. Please note the locker rental has been paid up to and including September 30th of this year. You have until that date to either clear it out or pay the additional monthly rental. If you choose to do neither, the locker will go up for auction on October 1st.

  Should you have any questions, please contact the undersigned.

  “Are you freakin’ kidding me?”

  “What?” Maya looked up.

  Jayne shook her head in utter disbelief. “There’s more. Gran had more crap.”

  “What?” Maya repeated. “Where?”

  “In a storage locker! Can you believe that? And now they’re telling me she was only going to ‘give’ it to me if I decided to open the store again. Like she’s doing me such a huge favor by dumping more piles of crap on me.”

  She flipped the letter over so Maya could read it, then slumped down on the sofa and propped her feet on the table. Screw it. Whatever was in there could damn well go for auction. Anyone stupid enough to bid on a locker full of plastic Santas and ratty old baby clothes deserved what they got.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Being bad feels pretty good, huh?

  John Bender, The Breakfast Club

  Jayne and Maya waited until they knew Will had gone to work before they went to Maya’s house. While Jayne dealt with the easy things like clothes and toiletries, Maya wandered around the house gathering personal things she wanted.

  Sadly, there wasn’t much.

  The three-bedroom house sat on a quiet street a couple minutes past Nick’s house in one of the older subdivisions. The yard was neatly kept, with bursts of color in the weedless gardens and the grass an even green. Inside was exactly how Jayne had imagined.

  The walls were a soft tan color, just barely darker than off-white, and each room had accents to complement the color. It was almost too perfect; even the spare bedrooms were perfectly arranged with green throw pillows set at perfect angles and not a single footprint marring the vacuum lines in the carpet.

  A glass vase of pink roses sat on a corner of the coffee table in the living room, directly behind a framed photo of Maya and Will all decked out in their wedding finery. To see their faces in that photo, a person would never guess where they’d be a year later.

  Jayne gave Maya a quick squeeze. “Do you want the TV? Or what about the computer?”

  “No,” she murmured, then walked straight toward the computer she said she didn’t want. She copied a whole bunch of things to a flash drive, deleted everything that was hers from the hard drive, and then disabled the antivirus software.

  “He never checks that,” she said, smiling. “So if there’s any justice in this world, he will soon find himself overrun with every virus out there, personally and technologically speaking. May his computer crash and his dick fall off.”

  Jayne snorted, laughed, and held up her hand. “High five on that one, sister!”

  They were at the door when Maya stopped.

  “Hang on.”

  “But you’re going to be late getting the store open.” Jayne tapped her watch for emphasis.

  “This won’t take long.”

  “Okay.” At first, Jayne stayed at the door, but when the first crash boomed from the kitchen, she raced after Maya. By the time she got there, an entire stack of plates lay in pieces across the tile floor.

  “Maya!” If Jayne hadn’t ducked, the projectile glass would have hit her in the head. “Stop! What are you doing?”

  Maya didn’t stop; in fact, she seemed to be just warming up.

  “He always told me the dishes were mine to do, so guess what? I’m doing them!” With the look of a crazed lunatic, Maya moved from cupboard to cupboard, shoving everything onto the floor. Glasses shattered, dishes broke, and cutlery flew everywhere. Then she moved on to the fridge.

  She lifted a full jar of pickles and tossed them over her shoulder. “Oops. I hate when that happens.”

  Eggs went in twelve different directions, then jam, a whole tub of butter, ketchup, and milk. It went on and on until every last thing in the fridge and cupboards was now splattered all over the kitchen floor in a giant lake of yuck. Jayne watched in both shock and awe, then followed Maya’s gooey footsteps out of the kitchen and back upstairs.

  “We should go.”

  “It’ll just take a minute.” She lifted the edge of the sheets and felt around the mattress. A slow wave rippled across the bed.

  “You have a water bed?” Jayne gasped.

  “He thinks it’s the best thing in the world.” Maya frowned, shoved the sheet back farther until she found what she was looking for. Without a moment’s hesitation, she pulled the cap and plug out, then set them back, just barely, inside the opening.

  “Maya,” Jayne warned, and was promptly ignored. “You can’t do this.”

  “Of course I can.” Maya pulled the sheets back to where they were before and stood scanning the room, looking for something, but what? Jayne shuddered to think. “I’ve told him over and over again
that the plug didn’t seal properly. I was forever tightening it, but without me here to do it, who knows what will happen?”

  With a sudden grin, she grabbed a couple big empty suitcases from the closet and tossed them on the bed. “That should do. Let’s go.”

  Jayne chased after her. “You’re not seriously going to leave it like this? You’ll be arrested!”

  “For what?” Maya laughed. “It’s my stuff, I can do whatever the hell I want to it. Besides, he always comes home for lunch, so it’s not like the place’ll be floating by then, it’ll just be a little wet.”

  “A little wet? Maya!”

  They almost made it to the front door before Maya took a sharp right into the laundry room and came out with a shiny new Wilson nine iron.

  “I gave him this the morning of our anniversary,” she said. “But he told me he only used Titleist, so I was going to return it. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to swing one.”

  “Maya,” Jayne cried, chasing her into the living room. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” she asked with a giant smile. “Don’t play golf in the house? No, I wouldn’t do that. I’ve never understood the whole golf thing, but baseball … now there’s a sport I can get behind.”

  She wrapped both hands around the handle, adjusted her grip a little, then lifted it back behind her right shoulder. She hesitated for less time than it took her to inhale, then brought it around like she was Babe Ruth shooting for the bleachers. The plasma screen exploded, sending bits blasting everywhere, but Maya wasn’t done. Next, she took aim at every framed photograph in the room, a crystal vase that split into chunks, one of which ended up embedded in the wall, and then just for good measure, she went back to the computer and slammed the head of the club through the monitor.

  “Okay.” She rubbed her hands down her jeans and nodded, giving the house one last look before finally walking out the door.

  Jayne scrambled into the car, looking around wildly to see if anyone was watching. To see Maya, you’d never guess such a sweet little thing would wreak such havoc in her own house, especially when she was driving away looking as cool as a cucumber.