Chapter Two
“You look as confused as a mouse in a spray cheese factory.”
“Thanks, Claire. Good morning to you too,” Jennifer said. “Let’s just all buckle down and get through today so we can forget it ever started.”
Neither of her two reporters commented under the watch of her baleful gaze but shared a look between each other and shrugged as she backed into to her office and shut the door behind her. Jennifer didn’t care what they thought. Unfortunately, the old wooden door could not shield her from her own insecurity, just her staff.
She tried to immerse herself in her job but Marcy’s grammatical incompetence on something as simple as an engagement announcement and Claire’s unfathomable ability to ramble in an obituary, strained her nerves to the breaking point. She ran her hands through her hair rather than opting to scream. Jennifer took a few deep breaths and got herself back under control. This was her own frustration getting the better of her. Neither of the two articles were any different than what she normally got from her staff. Being around Mike brought back feelings that she’d hoped her heart would have learned its lesson from. Apparently not.
Jennifer’s mood hadn’t improved several hours later when her phone rang and she snatched it up. “Mercy Ridge Crier,” she growled into the receiver.
“Ms. Harrison? This is Larry, over at Leroy’s. I’ve...uh...got some good news and some, ah, bad news.”
Unfortunately Larry couldn’t tell that she was angrier at herself than anyone else and she immediately felt bad for snapping at the poor mechanic.
Jennifer sighed. Here comes another financial catastrophe. “Give me the bad news first.”
“The bad news is that it was your alternator. You need a new one.”
“How much will that run me?”
“Well, the part is only about $100 but, with the labor, you’re looking at a final bill in the ballpark of about $300.”
Jennifer groaned. She didn’t have that kind of money. “And the good news?”
“The labor has been...ah...donated. So your bill will only include the cost of the part.”
Jennifer sat holding the receiver stupidly as her annoyance evaporated. She felt as though she’d dodged a bullet. Now she wouldn’t have to ask her mother if she could borrow money for the repair. Her mom wasn’t much better off than her. This must be Mike’s doing.
“Miss Defoe?” Larry’s voice spoke into her ear and she snapped back to reality.
“Sorry. Thank you, Larry. When can I pick up my car?”
“We have to wait for the part to come in, but you should be able to pick it up tomorrow after work.”
Jennifer hung up the phone and quickly checked her bank account balance online. She had enough to cover the part and a little bit extra. She stood up and grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair.
“I’m going out for an early lunch,” she announced as she came out of her office.
“Did you run out of bologna, or bread?” Marcy quipped as she noticed Jennifer’s much improved attitude.
“Very funny,” Jennifer said with a smile. “Just make sure everything is ready for layout when I get back.”
Mike was right. The walk from her office to Leroy’s in heels was murder. She didn’t even want to contemplate how bad it would have been if she’d tried to walk home the evening her car broke down. As it was, she was hobbling a bit as she walked into Leroy’s lot, trying to avoid the mystery puddles of various fluids on the old concrete.
Michael stepped out from behind a van, rubbing his hands on his pants. “Jennifer? What are you doing here?” he asked when he spotted her.
“I wanted to take you to lunch.”
“Jen, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t, but I want to.”
“If this is about your car, I’m filthy,” he said.
“I’m not taking you to a French restaurant, you dummy. I can spot us some burgers from a drive-through and I just wanted to say thank you.”
“We gonna walk?” he asked.
“No, first, you’re going to wash your hands and then get the truck. My feet are killing me.”
“Oh, my God, this is so good.”
Jennifer watched Mike savor the bacon double cheeseburger. “How long has it been since you’ve had a real burger?” she asked.
“A real greaseball like this?” he said appreciatively. “Too long. We get pretty good food on the ship but nothing this bad for you. When you’re out to sea for six months at a time, you get used to not being able to get this level of artery-hardening awesomeness. Everything is specifically designed to be nutritious, properly proportioned, and survive for decades. I knew a cook’s assistant who swore he found steaks in the freezer from World War II. I never doubted him.”
“You mean you didn’t stop for fast food from the time you got off your ship to the time you got here?”
“Nope. I came here as quick as I could,” he answered and took another bite.
“Have you decided yet if you’re going back?”
Mike swallowed, leaned back in his seat, and sighed. “No. I’ve still got two weeks to make up my mind.”
Jennifer saw her opening and took it. She felt surprisingly little guilt about taking advantage of a man with a full stomach. “So why are you spending it fixing cars?”
Mike shrugged. “I need something to do. It isn’t like Mercy Ridge has much by way of tourist attractions other than Barb’s dude ranch. I prefer four wheels to hooves, and I’m not the kind of guy to just sit around.”
“Do you even know how weird that sounds?” Jennifer said. “If you wanted to play the tourist, there are plenty of other places than Mercy Ridge to see.”
“I needed to find myself,” he said again for the second time in as many days.
“By what? Trying to reconnect to your past?”
“Something like that.”
She could tell there was definitely more to the ‘something like that’ but decided not to press him on it. Her half-hour lunch was almost up. “We’d better get back. I’ve got a paper to get out.”
“And Mr. Leery’s water pump isn’t going to fix itself,” Mike added.
Both of us are good at dodging the important questions, Jennifer noted.
Mike drove her back to the office.
She pulled one of her business cards from her purse. “Give me a call if you want to talk. My cell’s on there.”
“Just like old times?” he asked.
“Something like that.”
Jennifer kept her phone perched on the edge of her desk within easy snatching distance. It rang promptly at forty-two minutes past four in the afternoon.
“Ms. Harrison, this is Larry from Leroy’s,” the voice on the other end of the receiver said and Jennifer found herself disappointed it wasn’t Mike. “We didn’t get the part in today. I’ve got my parts guy making an early run tomorrow. It’s probably going to be the day after tomorrow if that’s not a problem?”
That gave her at least a few more rides with Mike. “That’ll be fine, Larry. Let me know when it’s ready.”
Mike waited outside for her when she closed up shop at five.
“Your chariot awaits, m’lady.” He made an exaggerated bow.
“How was your day?” she asked as they pulled away.
“The usual, busy. Things were fine until Larry found out that someone ordered the wrong part for your car. He wasn’t too happy about that.”
“Who screwed up?” Jennifer asked but Mike’s nonchalant didn’t fool her. “Mike! I kind of do need my car.”
“I don’t mind driving you. I like it.”
“I like it too but—”
Oops. Her and her big mouth.
She saw him grin.
“How does chicken and waffles sound for breakfast tomorrow?” he asked.
“With syrup?”
“Of course.”
“Bring napkins.”
The door had only just closed behind her before she
mentally kicked herself. She did not need to flirt with Michael, no matter how much she enjoyed it. The man made his choice years ago and it did not include her. They always playfully teased each other in high school but it never amounted to anything when it counted. Jennifer had no doubt, the moment his leave ended, he’d be back on his way out to sea with barely a glance backwards, and she’d be left alone, hurting, again.
Why the antics he’d pulled since he returned to Mercy Ridge, though? He’d sabotaged her car getting fixed. He’d brought breakfast every morning on his dime and she was certain the labor costs for her car repair would come out of his pay. Michael had always been considerate toward her but this was above and beyond. Was he being extra friendly or was he really interested this time? Or were her hopes running ahead of her mind once again?
She growled and tossed her jacket over the back of a chair and marched into her kitchen. This wasn’t something to be considered without chocolate ice cream. There was barely enough for a full bowl due to her last existential crisis.
By the last spoonful of cacao-infused deliciousness, she’d made up her mind. There had been enough games. She set out her shortest skirt, a silky button-up blouse, and highest heels. She took the time to shave her legs and to find her only bottle of perfume. If Mike wouldn’t tell her his intentions, she would have to force his hand.
Her alarm clock went off a half-hour earlier than usual the next morning and she groaned, only to remember that she’d set it to allow extra time for primping.
Jennifer forced a flounce into her step as she walked down the walkway toward the truck. She felt ridiculous and her feet were already warning her that she would to pay for it. Mike scrambled out to open the door for her. “You look...nice,” he said and Jennifer could feel his eyes looking her over. She just smiled and climbed in.
The smell of fresh chicken strips that came from the bag made her stomach rumble. Ice cream was not an acceptable supper substitute. Jennifer already pulled a wrapped waffle out of the bag and fished for a packet of syrup by the time Mike got back around to his side of the truck.
“Save some for me?” he asked.
“I couldn’t wait,” she mumbled, trying to tear open the packet between her teeth. “I’m hungry.” And looking like an idiot, she thought.
“Shouldn’t we be going?” she asked, noting that Mike was busy preparing his own food rather than starting the truck.
“Nah. I’m early. We’ve got a few minutes.”
“Good. I’d hate to try to eat this while we’re moving.” She giggled and then bit into her food. “I’d be a sticky mess by the time I got to work.” Better, she thought. Maybe not flirty enough?
Her own mind did her in. Too much second-guessing and her false confidence came crashing down like the walls of Jericho in the face of the trumpet call of insecurity.
Jennifer forced herself to gaze at her yard while she ate. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Mike. Last night’s desperate plan to throw herself at him evaporated with the morning light, betrayed again by her stomach and her nerves. It didn’t help that he looked so good. He’d totally mastered that “just rolled out of bed” hotness, damn him. She swallowed the last bit of waffle and turned to see Mike watching her, his own food untouched on the dashboard.
“Is something the matter?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he growled. “But screw it.”
Jennifer’s body felt the contact of his lips on hers but it took her brain a few seconds to catch up. She heard the bag between them swept onto the floor and it was no longer just his lips against her as he pulled her toward him. Her arms awkwardly came up and her hands gripped his arms. He broke contact and she gasped, realizing she’d closed her eyes. His deep amber eyes stared into hers and she could feel her heart beat fiercely in her chest.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since high school,” he said.
“Me too,” she admitted, feeling silly that she could only echo him.
There was a moment of silence as their words sank in.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you were too smart and pretty for a dumb jock like me.”
“What?” she said. “I wanted to be more than just a friend. You never noticed?”
“No, but, Jen, I wasn’t...still ain’t, the smartest guy out there.”
“Oh stop it,” she told him.
“I’m slow on the uptake. Can I make it up to you?”
Jennifer’s emotional high evaporated as her mind took over again. Going any farther with Mike would end up with her heart broken again. She didn’t want to go through it twice.
“I think...we should let bygones be bygones.”
“Is that a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’?” Mike asked, clearly confused.
“Mike, I can’t offer you a future outside Mercy Ridge,” she said and it felt like a knife in her gut with every word but it needed to be said. “This is my home. My friends are here and I won’t stand in your way.”
He pulled away from her and frowned. “I’ve got another choice to make, is what you’re saying.”
Jennifer could only nod and mourn him not being against her.
“Jen, if I’d known at the time how bad I hurt you, I would have swam home.”
“I know that, now, but we’ve both moved on since then.”
“Have we?” he said quietly. “I haven’t.”
He kissed her again and her body responded without hesitation this time.
“I don’t think I’m the only one,” he said.
“I don’t want to be hurt again,” she said softly.
“Do I look stupid?”
Jennifer was fifteen minutes late to work.
“Me-ow,” Claire commented at her daring choice of clothing.
Marcy just winked at her.
Her office was no refuge. It took Marcy ten minutes to appear at her door, a new record of restraint. “All right, girl, spill,” Marcy said without preamble. “Who is he?”
“What makes you think—” Jennifer immediately saw denial wouldn’t get her anywhere, so she switched tactics to indignation. “That’s none—”
Jennifer was reminded of how a mouse must feel under Marcy’s predatory grin.
“Have it your way, boss lady, but you know I’ll just use my reporter superpowers to use. I don’t keep track of all the gossip in this town for nothing, you know.”
Jennifer watched Marcy try to keep her face serious. It was a losing fight.
“Oh, all right. Mike Harrison.” she blurted. It felt good to air it.
Marcy, with a triumphant smile, yelled over her shoulder. “You owe me five bucks, Claire. Pay up, girl.”
“Will this be all over town now?” Jennifer asked.
“Uh-uh. My lips are sealed...for now but, might I add, when you go without, you really know how to break the drought in style.”
Marcy flashed her a thumbs up.
“Thanks—I think.”
Jennifer’s phone rang and she picked it up, only partially paying attention to Marcy as she backed out the door.
“Hi, Larry, is my car ready? What do you mean get over there? What’s wrong with Mike? Hello? Hello?”
Jennifer shot out of her office, her brief moment of happiness destroyed by fear and doubt. “Marcy. Claire. One of you get me to Leroy’s right now.”
Chapter Three
Jennifer jumped out of the back seat of Claire’s little hatchback before it came to a stop. Larry hurried over and stopped her before she could get inside the garage. The older man kept twisting his hat between his hands.
“What happened?” she asked, trying to keep her rising panic under control.
“Bart didn’t pay attention when he was inflating a tire and the inner tube blew.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” she asked in annoyance. “What happened?”
“The loud noise?” Larry replied, confused.
“What?”
Under
standing crept over Larry’s worried expression.
“Ms. Defoe, he didn’t tell you he’s got shell shock did he?”
“I didn’t want to disturb him,” Larry explained as they entered the garage and found Mike on his stomach, breathing hard and staring off into space. “I knew guys like him back in ‘Nam. You never knew how they were going to react so you left ‘em alone until they came out of it.”
“Why didn’t you call an ambulance?” Jennifer turned on him.
“Because I’m not going to embarrass the boy like that,” Larry shot back, heat creeping into his voice. “What’re they gonna do? Send him in to a head doc that’s what. That ain’t nobody’s business and I’ve got too much respect for him than to have everyone in this town call the boy a basket case.”
Jennifer looked at Mike’s body sprawled on the dirty concrete floor and her heart went out to him. There was something pitiful about seeing a strong man in the grip of the terrors of his own mind. Despite that, her investigative nature took that moment to assert itself. “Why’d you call me then?”
“You’re the only person he’s ever talked about so I figured...ah sh—” Larry caught himself. “—oot. I’ve put my foot in it haven’t I?”
Jennifer knew Larry was only trying to protect Mike and, as much as she would like to think better of people, the mechanic was right. Gossip traveled fast in Mercy Ridge. “You did the right thing,” she said.
“Miss Defoe, please don’t tell him that I told you.” Larry wrung his battered cap again.
“Don’t worry. My lips are sealed, but we can’t just leave him down there. What do I need to do?” Jennifer surprised herself by taking charge. This went against all her natural inclinations to stand back, observe, and report.
“I don’t rightly know,” Larry said, and scratched his head. “Back in the jungle, the gunny usually yelled at them until they snapped out of it. Pro’ly not an option here.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yelling at someone who freaks out at loud noises was real smart.”
The Pancake Club Anthology Page 6