Ben swallows. “If you’re sure.” He places his hand on top of mine for a moment then opens the dark roast for me.
“I am.” My voice fades.
Fifteen minutes later, Ben sits next to me on the couch. We each have a coffee full of whipped cream in front of us.
He takes a sip from the Cleveland Browns mug. A white mustache dots his upper lip. “I’m glad I know how to make one of these, but I don’t think I’m meant to drink them. I like my coffee plain and simple.” He returns the cup to the coffee table.
I swipe my index finger against the cream on his face and plop it in my mouth. “You sound like Howard. He knew what he liked, and that was that.” The mocha warms my throat and seems to also relieve my shock.
Carla nods, sitting opposite of him on my rocker. “Ben, do you remember the time he hired you to paint his barn?”
I sit forward on the couch and prop my hands on my chin.
Ben chuckles. “Oh, I’ll never forget.” He faces me. “I was probably seventeen, here for the summer, staying with my grandparents. I wanted spending money, so I agreed to paint his barn. I didn’t pay attention when they mixed the paint. He wanted fire engine red. Once the paint dried and the sun hit the barn, it looked like a frilly-pink dollhouse. Howard was mad.”
“You know, once he calmed down, he laughed,” Carla says.
“Sure, a few years later. Jenna, what surprised you the most about Howard?”
I bite my lip. In a short time, Howard created many memories. “Okay, this one stumped me. Still does. I didn’t know he dated—”
The two smile. “Janice Beebe.” They say together.
We reminisce and the sting of Howard’s death lessens.
Carla clears her throat. “I have to go soon. Jenna, I know you wanted to know about his last moments.”
I nod and look at my WWJD oversized cup, the letters fading after so many years of use.
“From what his family shared, his passing was peaceful.”
Ben nudges my elbow. “That’s exactly what he wanted, I’m sure.”
She continues. “Gloversville discharged him. The doctors were in constant contact with Susan’s source at Sloan-Kettering. Her plan was to leave at midnight and drive through the night for an appointment in the morning. He said he was tired after leaving the hospital, so they set him up in his bed.”
I look at Carla. “Did he say anything before he fell asleep?”
“Actually, yes. The way Susan tells it, Howard sat up and said, ‘I don’t like that New York City. Too big. All my years here in the Falls, you know what? They truly have been spectacular. Doctors should come here.”
I picture Howard saying this. Ben’s phone vibrates, and he excuses himself. A minute later he comes back.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
He takes a deep breath before returning to the couch. This time, he sits a little further down and away from me.
I raise my eyebrows.
“Um—yeah. That was a text. Someone heard about Howard.”
Folding my arms, I try to think of who the mysterious texter might be.
Ben continues. “It was—uh, Trish. Maxwell. She says she’s in town anyway, so she’s staying for the funeral.”
Yay.
I get to meet Ben’s ex-girlfriend and my senior center predecessor.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Speculator Falls looks like a ghost town. Howard’s funeral is in Indian Lake, twenty-five miles away. Ben offers to drive Sara and me to the service. The businesses on Route 8, from the donut shop to the video store, are all closed. Looks like most everyone in the village is going to say good-bye.
Sara lets out a soft laugh. “I can hear him now. With everyone dressed up and on their way to the funeral, he’d have a fit. How that man hated a fuss.”
“How did he handle your husband’s passing, if I may ask?” I remember Howard sharing senior center ideas based on his chats with John Bivins before John became ill.
Sara bites her lip for a second and then turns to me. “It was the only day in all my years in the Adirondacks that Howard Wheaton wasn’t sputtering. Howard took care of every detail, right down to asking Shirley to coordinate a luncheon afterward.” She blinks back tears. “They were great friends on earth, and I suspect they’re having a heavenly reunion.”
Forty minutes later we’re standing in line to sign the guestbook at the funeral home. Sara’s ahead of me, and Ben stands next to me, close enough that my purse brushes against his black suit coat.
“You okay?” He pats my shoulder.
“Yes, my focus is Susan. This has to be hard for her. How about you? Being at a funeral has to remind you of—” I swallow then continue. “Your grandfather’s service.”
Ben looks to the floor before lifting his head to face me. “I’m here for you.”
His voice is low, especially with the surrounding conversations. I smile and swing my purse to my other shoulder to close the distance between us. He extends his hand, and I clasp mine in his and squeeze before Sara interrupts.
“Carla and Will are waving. I think they have our seats saved. Let’s hurry and sign the guest book so we can speak to Susan, say our good-byes, and get ready for Pastor Craig’s service.” Sara walks forward without waiting, her polyester pants swishing as she moves.
I sign my name and look ahead to Susan at the immediate left of the casket, displaying a weary smile to each visitor. Her husband keeps a hand on the small of her back.
“Ready? The line is pretty short.” Ben’s so close behind me that his breath breezes past my earlobe.
I nod, and with each step, I wring my hands.
Lord, help me represent You well here today. Give me strength, especially for the other seniors.
“Jenna. Thank you for coming.” Susan reaches for a hug. The sleeve buttons on her black suit jacket catch on a stray thread on my shirt. She tugs the button loose, reaches for my shoulders, and looks me straight in the eye. “Dad thought you were the best director he’d ever seen. I hope you know that.”
“Thank you. That means a lot. I know your dad had been part of the center since they built it.”
Susan’s hands return to her sides. “Dad called me after your first day at work. He raved about you. Oh, it was in his own way, letting me know you watched that one morning show while he set up chairs, and that you always had coffee ready. He made it clear Trish never did that. He was excited about you being there. The next time I called, he told me you were his favorite.”
Ben nudges me with his elbow and then winks.
I smile. “He was a wonderful man.”
Kneeling at the prayer area, I bow my head and close my eyes. “Thank you, Lord, for this man. Bless Susan and the seniors at the center as they adjust to life without Howard.” I open my eyes, tears running down my cheek. “And, Lord?” I wipe my cheek. “Tell him he was my favorite, too.”
Ben gently takes me by the elbow and escorts me to the seats next to Carla. He rests his hand on my knee for a few moments then gives me a couple quick taps before removing his hand. “Pastor Craig should be starting soon.”
As if on cue, our preacher steps out. Susan and Randy take a seat in the front row. Brooke sits next to them, offering tissues.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it probably won’t surprise you that when Howard received his diagnosis, he requested a meeting with me. He wanted to make sure when this day came, there wouldn’t be a big fuss.” Pastor places his hands on the sides of the pulpit. “But I’d be remiss to not honor a man whose love for the Lord and generosity toward others speaks just as loud as the grumbling he enjoyed, especially when playing cards with Will Marshall.” He looks to our delivery driver.
Will nods. “Not sure why he was grumpy, Pastor. He beat me every time.”
Chuckles fill the room.
Carla gives her friend an elbow nudge.
Pastor Craig pauses, and when the laughter dies down, he opens his mouth, but no words come out. He cranes his neck and fo
cuses on the back of the room.
Heads turn, following his gaze.
A woman who looks about my age stands in the back. Her honey blond hair looks like it’s from a shampoo commercial. Her gray sleeveless dress would look dowdy on me but hangs with perfection on her.
This potential cover girl knows how to make an entrance.
Ben slides down in his seat with a mumble. “Trish.”
I lean in closer to Ben. “What did you say?”
“It’s Trish.”
I snap my focus back to the woman with a body toned like an Olympian. The blonde towers over me in height, beauty, and experience. “You mean Trish, the one who directed the senior center before me?”
He nods without looking back.
I return my attention to Ben. “Trish Maxwell, your ex-girlfriend?”
“That’s her.” He clears his throat and stares straight ahead.
Oh, Howard. I wish you were alive. You’d know the perfect snappy thing to say to Miss Gorgeous.
Pastor Craig smiles and resumes the service, though it’s near the end. “At the conclusion of the burial, Wendy Simmons has invited everyone to Jack Frosty’s in Speculator Falls for a luncheon to celebrate Howard’s life.”
Ben, Sara, and I walk out of the funeral home. Susan’s standing outside her car, waving me over. Howard didn’t want a public burial, so she and Randy are going alone.
“I’ll be going through dad’s things to get the house ready for sale. I’m sure I’ll find things for the senior center.”
“We’d love your donations. Please call if you need help.”
Susan gives one last hug before climbing in her car.
We move further into the parking lot, looking for Ben’s car. I’m ready to tell Ben I see it when someone else calls his name.
“Ben Regan, don’t you dare leave without saying hello.” Miss Gorgeous’ heels click clack against the pavement.
“That’s quite a statement coming from someone who left town,” Sara mumbles as Trish walks toward us.
“Grandma, please,” Ben begs. He smiles and turns toward his ex-girlfriend. She’s more stunning up close. “Trish. Hello.”
She hugs Ben and kicks her right foot behind her. “Ben, you’re just like Speculator Falls. You never change.” She lets go and stands too close to him. “Are you going to Jack Frosty’s? It would be great to catch—” Trish looks out of the corner of her eye,and then takes three steps back and rests her eyes on me. “Wait a minute. Who are you? Are you my replacement? I’m Trish Maxwell.”
She extends a hand and gives a firm handshake. I grip her hand as hard as I can.
Sara pats my arm. “This is Jenna Anderson.”
I let go of the handshake and look up at a woman who doesn’t belong in Speculator Falls any more than I belong on Mars. “Nice to meet you, Trish. You’ll have to come by the center. Everyone tells me it’s never looked better.”
Senior center activities fall into a groove after Howard’s funeral. Roxy continues variety show rehearsals. Shirley and I plan a picnic for Labor Day.
“I’m so glad you’re doing this, Jenna. Labor Day is a big deal because so many people leave the area until next summer. It’s going to be quiet around here.” Shirley taps her pencil on her clipboard.
“It’s been a busy summer, and fall promises to be just as full of activities. I say let’s take a day and enjoy good food and friendship.” I need one day where I’m trying not to make the budget look like a list to St. Nick.
“Will you be asking Kyle Swarthmore to underwrite the picnic, like he did for our Memorial Day event?” She stops tapping and looks at me, her beady eyes magnified in those thick lenses of hers.
“I don’t think that’s necessary. We’re keeping it simple.” I fluff my hair, the longest it’s been since high school graduation.
“Are you going to have Carla cut your hair?” Shirley’s gaze has no pause button.
“No. She’s convinced me to let it grow a little so she can try a new style. It’s in that growing out phase that drives me crazy. Why?”
Shirley pats her own mid-length bouffant. “Thought maybe you’d want something professional for the council meeting. There is one member who is single—you might know of him. Ben Regan?” Her eyes dance with amusement.
“You know what, Shirley?”
“What’s that?”
“If I didn’t love and need you so much, I’d fire you.” I grin before returning to our picnic to-do list.
After closing, I wave good-bye to Shirley and unlock the car door after closing when a car pulls in the gravel parking lot. Carla parks next to me, cuts the engine, and opens her door.
Once she stands, her feet are apart in a stance that reminds me of what law enforcement officers look like before they take a shot. “Tell me you’re free tonight.”
I give a questioning look. “I am.” I clear my throat. “What’s going on?”
“I have something huge to share with you.”
I lock my car and walk toward her. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”
“I’m one step ahead of you. Jack Frosty’s is too public for what I have to tell you. I grabbed some subs from Gas and Grub. Thought we could find a picnic table by Lake Pleasant and chat.”
Her face has more lines than an Etch-A-Sketch. There’s no way I can say no.
“Sounds good. I’m curious, that’s for sure. Is it about Trish? Did you arrest her?”
Carla grins as we both get in the car and buckle our seatbelts. “For what? Being annoying? If that were the case Kyle Swarthmore would be facing a life sentence.”
We set up the food and within minutes at the picnic table, she wastes no time.
“Will wants to give me a check.”
I take a bite of my Italian sandwich and shrug. “Donation for the sheriff’s department?”
Carla rolls her eyes. “Funny. He wants to pay for me to go to cosmetology school. He’s looked up places I could attend and even talked to the Chamber of Commerce here about vacant storefronts. Jenna, he believes in me.” Her lip quivers.
I drop the sub on my plate and brush my hands together. “Wow. You seem shocked that he has faith in you.”
“Noah is the only male that has given me hope—in anything. This makes my head spin.” She lowers her head and her hair dips in vinaigrette dressing. “Oh, great. Now I’m going to smell like a deli.”
I take my napkin and lean forward so I can brush the oily residue out of her hair. “He’s a good man, Carla. I don’t know a lot about your past, but Will is more loyal than a Golden Retriever.”
She giggles. “You have a point. He treats Noah and me well.”
“Has he hinted at a future regarding the three of you?” I sip my lemonade.
She shakes her head. “I can’t even go there. This school development is enough of a shock. Please pray. I remember playing with dolls and doing their hair, thinking one day I’d have my own shop. Then my high school rebellion, and well—Noah.” She looks to the ceiling for a moment. “I had to do what was a steady paycheck and what people said I was good at. Being a girlie-girl creating hairstyles wasn’t an image anyone equated with me.”
I reach across the table and squeeze her hand, looking her straight in the eyes. “Looks like someone believes in your dream. I do, too. You know I’ll pray.”
Once she leaves, I think about Ben.
“Please, Lord. Make Ben be a big supporter of the senior center, like Will is of Carla’s dreams.” Then a flash of Trish’s face comes to mind. “And don’t let that tall blond take away the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
An Adirondack Labor Day is as eventful as the Fourth of July. Ben has to work, so I decide to visit him at the store with the hope of sharing at least part of the day with him. Cars and vans, most with New Jersey license plates, are all packed up and in the JB’s lot. Only locals will remain after all the various picnics around town.
The automatic doors take fo
rever to open. I give them a push of my own to move them along, passing by the moon cookie special. I hear talking in what seems to be the pasta aisle. I follow the voices.
“It’s a closed book. Neither of us need to open it again.” Ben sounds tired.
I turn into the aisle and see him talking with Trish. Even on this summer holiday, she’s in a business suit. Looking gorgeous.
“Hey, there you are. Thought I’d stop in and see how your Labor Day is going.” The aisle isn’t that wide, so I stand in an awkward angle kind of between them.
His eyes seem to light up. “Jenna. You remember Trish.”
I’m intentional about matching my stare to hers. “I do. The girl that left town.”
Business suit gives a tight smile. “I should go. Good to catch up, Ben. I’ll be seeing you. Good-bye, Jennifer.” She struts out before I can correct her. Like she’d care.
Ben reaches over to steal a quick kiss on the cheek. “Wish I could leave and go somewhere a little more private. Been steady all day. Will’s on his way with a hot dog bun delivery, and I think he’s going to make it just in time.”
“Any news on the expansion?”
“Not yet. Fred and I chose the corporation we think has the strongest business. We submitted paperwork, and I should know before the end of the month. What are you going to do today? All your friends are working. Me, Carla, Will…”
“Oh, we’re just friends, Mr. Regan?” I tease.
“You know what I mean. Any plans for today?”
Now that he’s said something, no. He’s right. Everyone seems busy.
“I’ll find you as soon as work is over. I think my grandmother is home. She always loves seeing you.”
I reach for his hand and he intertwines his fingers with mine, doing the same with the other hand.
“That’s a good idea. I’ll go there. You can find me at Sara’s.” I lean in to say good-bye with a quick peck, but Ben maneuvers his head with such a smooth move his mouth covers mine for a kiss that should rock all the pasta off the shelves.
Entrusted (Adirondack Surrender Series Book 1) Page 15