“They put her on some meds to prevent clotting. I’m not sure where we’ll go from here. Depends on the test results, I guess.”
“How’s she feeling?” Ryan asked.
“Better. The backache and nausea are gone. She’s just a little tired.”
“I’ll put her on the prayer chain,” Ryan said.
Two hours later they were still waiting on test results. PJ munched on a bag of SunChips. Daniel talked on his cell, pacing in front of the windows, and Ryan was texting someone.
Jade stared at the TV where The Andy Griffith Show played. Each time the door opened, they looked up anxiously, but Dad hadn’t returned from her bedside. His texts to Ryan confirmed they were still waiting on test results.
Jade pulled the baggie from her purse and started on a saltine. The waiting room had grown more crowded. A family gathered in the corner, the mom twisting a soggy tissue. A young man waited across from them, holding a bloody dishrag to his hand.
Daniel pocketed his cell and sank into the chair beside Jade. “How you holding up?”
“All right, I guess. It’s taking a long time.”
“Want something from the vending machine?”
She held up a cracker. “No thanks.”
He shifted in his seat, moving closer. She could smell his cologne, a nice clean, manly smell, not too overbearing the way she found most cologne.
“I was just remembering when I came over to your house the first time.”
“Sneaked over, you mean.” He’d climbed into the basement because it had been a school night, and Ryan had been sure his parents would say no.
“We thought we were being so sneaky. We watched movies all night and went through school the next day like zombies. The next weekend Ryan had me over for supper and asked if I could spend the night. You know what Mama Jo said?”
Jade shook her head.
“She said, ‘Sure. This time use the front door.’ ”
They shared a smile. “It’s hard to put one over on Mom.” The main reason Jade hadn’t spent much time with her since she’d returned. She felt a pang of guilt. If she’d spent more time with her mom, maybe she would’ve seen the symptoms earlier.
“What time are we expecting Madison and Beckett?” Ryan asked.
“Their plane lands around three.”
Some homecoming it would be for the honeymooners. Hopefully they’d have good news about the test results by then.
As if the positive thought had manufactured him, their dad came through the door. He gestured for them to stay and settled across from them in one of the orange bucket seats, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Mom’s resting comfortably. She said to tell you to stop worrying and go back to work.”
“Are the results back yet?”
He nodded. “The doctor says Mom needs to have bypass surgery.”
Jade covered her mouth. Could it get more major than open-heart surgery?
“Why not angioplasty?” Daniel asked. “Walter Newman had a heart attack last year, and that’s what he had.”
“I was hoping that would be the plan, but he said there’s too much blockage in two of the main coronary arteries. She needs the bypass.”
“When?”
“In the next few days. It’ll be done in Louisville, and she’ll be in the hospital for a week. Recovery is pretty long, a few months he said.”
“What about the store?” PJ asked.
“Don’t worry about a thing, Dad,” Ryan said. “We’ll take care of everything.”
“He’s right,” Jade said. “You tell Mom that.”
When he left, they huddled together.
“I can take some time off,” Ryan said. “Help with the farm.”
“Me too,” Daniel said. “What about the store?” Mom owned the town’s most popular antique store, Grandma’s Attic.
“We could hire someone,” Ryan said.
“Where would we find someone who knows antiques?” Jade asked.
“I’ll take the store,” PJ said.
“You can’t do that,” Jade said. PJ had an internship at a prestigious Louisville bakery. “It took you months to secure that internship.”
“She’s right,” Daniel said. “You’d lose it.”
Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. “We can’t shut it down. You heard him—a few months—and during tourist season. She makes the majority of profits in the summer.”
“I’ll take the store.” All eyes turned to Jade.
“You just got a job,” Daniel said. “I can put in some hours. Maybe Madison and Beckett can help out.”
“Madison and Beckett have jobs too,” Jade said. “And you can’t do everything, Daniel. Mayor, volunteer fireman, Congress candidate. I can work at the coffee shop after the store closes and on Sundays.”
“And when will you sleep?” Daniel asked.
She lifted her chin. “I’m taking the store. I want to do it.”
Ryan looked between them. “All right. Daniel and I will handle the farm, and Jade will take the store.”
“What about me?” PJ asked.
“You can help out at the house,” Jade said. “They’ll need meals and laundry and stuff. Madison and I can pitch in too, but I don’t want to put too much on her.”
“Agreed,” PJ said.
“All right,” Ryan said. “It’s a plan.”
CHAPTER NINE
“GREEN TEA WITH HONEY.” DANIEL HANDED THE CUP TO Jade. He didn’t like the dark circles under her eyes, and it was going to take more than tea to fix that.
“Thanks.”
He settled into the waiting room seat between her and Madison and leaned against the wooden rest between them. Beckett’s arm was curled around Madison as she flipped through a copy of Southern Indiana Living. They’d had a harsh transition from honeymoon to reality.
Across from them, Grandpa McKinley snoozed, his head falling forward every few minutes. Ryan and PJ flanked their dad, whose head rested back against the wall, eyes closed. Probably praying. They’d all done their share of that. PJ’s leg ticked off the seconds, and Ryan scrolled through his phone.
“What’s taking so long?” Jade said softly.
“They said it could take six hours,” Daniel said.
She checked the clock. “I wish they’d give us an update.”
“Let me see what I can find out.”
“Dad already tried.”
Daniel stood. “Well, he’s not the mayor.”
“That only works in Chapel Springs, Mr. Popularity.”
He tossed her a wink as he walked away.
The blonde at the nurse’s station gave a flirtatious smile as he approached. He gave her a friendly smile. He was happy to be charming if it would get Jade what she needed.
When he returned, Jade was squirming in her seat and her color wasn’t right.
“You all right?”
“Yeah, what’d she say?”
“They’re wrapping up the surgery. Eveything’s going well, and she should be in recovery soon.”
“Great, thank you.” Jade excused herself and disappeared into the restroom, moving faster than a trip to the bathroom should warrant.
When she returned Daniel frowned.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re white as a sheet.”
She folded her trembling hands under her arms and shrugged. “Just worried, I guess.”
Mr. McKinley was speaking to the surgeon at the closed doors in the hall. He nodded as he listened. A few minutes later the surgeon gave an encouraging smile, then disappeared through the doors.
“She’s in recovery, still under anesthesia,” he told them when he returned. “The surgery went well, thank the Lord. They’re going to let me go back when she wakes up.”
“Will we be able to see her?” PJ asked.
“One at a time. She needs her rest.”
“Whatever’s best for her,” Madison said.
“We just want her to get better,” Jade said.
“I appreciate you kids’ willingness to help out around the house and at the store. That’ll take a lot of pressure off your mom.”
“Of course, Daddy,” PJ said.
“Let us know if there’s anything else we can do,” Beckett said.
“The best thing you can do is help your mom avoid stress. It plays a big factor in reoccurrence of heart attacks. Especially over the next couple months as she’s recovering.”
“No stress. You got it,” Ryan said.
Jade crossed her arms over her stomach, and Daniel wondered about the frown lines creasing her forehead.
Jade hung up the phone and picked up the dust rag, the bad news ringing in her ears. Madison’s house had been rented. There was no extending her stay—she needed to be out today. The manager of the studio apartment wasn’t willing to let her in without the first month’s rent plus deposit, and it was the cheapest gig in town.
On top of that, she wasn’t making enough to pay for rent and keep up her health insurance. And she couldn’t drop that. Nor was she going to take money for helping out at the store.
She ran the rag over the antique armoire in her mom’s shop, careful to avoid the original brass hardware. What was she going to do?
You could always move back home, Jade.
Mom would be at the hospital another five days or so, but what after that? She’d never be able to hide her pregnancy while living there. And she had to hide it now. She couldn’t add to her mom’s stress after what the doctor said. Between the vomiting, the fatigue, and the expanding waistline, Mom would have the truth in a matter of days. She couldn’t let that happen.
She’d just have to figure something else out. She moved on to a Country French bed, working the cloth into the intricate scrolling of the headboard. Most of her old friends had moved away or married. There was no room for her at Ryan’s place, and she sure wasn’t moving in with the newlyweds. There was no time to place an ad for a roommate.
She just needed a bed. A sofa even. That’s where she’d slept in Chicago after that wretched night. Couldn’t bring herself to go back into the closet-sized room. Not only because of the awful memories but because she couldn’t tolerate small spaces anymore.
She lowered her hand. She was so tired. She’d hardly been cleaning an hour, and she was already exhausted. She dropped into a French Victorian chair and leaned her head back. She just needed to rest her feet, close her eyes for a few minutes.
“Jade?” The voice called from the fringes of her mind. “Jade?”
Her eyes flew open. She lifted her head from the chair. How long had she been asleep?
Daniel sat on the edge of the antique bed opposite her. “You must be wiped out. Why don’t you go home and take a nap? I’ll cover.”
She straightened and stretched her back. “I feel better now.” Besides, she had nowhere to go.
Daniel was looking around the shop, his eyes lighting on all the pieces. “You know, this would be a great source for furnishing your new apartment. I’m sure Mama Jo wouldn’t mind you borrowing some pieces.”
“You’re right. I might ask her.” Once she found a place to put them.
Daniel helped her finish dusting, then returned to his office next door. Jade began running the vacuum. What was she going to do? She was out of time, needed something quick. Today.
She moved the vacuum around the chair she’d just napped in. Her eyes caught on the object beside it. The bed.
She scanned the store, an idea rising to the surface. She had a bed right here. Her mom had even made them up with sheets, comfy quilts, and feather pillows. There was no shower, but she could wash up in the sink. Wasn’t there a shower at the mayor’s office next door? She could find some excuse, or even sneak over and use it. Did Daniel still keep a spare key on the crown molding over the door?
She looked around the store, eyeing the secondhand treasures, and bit the inside of her lip. Could she actually live in a store? She’d seen an old Frigidaire near the office. All she had to do was plug it in, and she’d have someplace to store food. Maybe there was an electric stove or even a hot plate or microwave somewhere in here. She could use her mom’s computer to job-hunt. There was no working TV, but she’d rather play her guitar anyway.
It was just temporary. Just until she could return to the coffee shop full time. Maybe she’d even find a better job by the time her mom returned to work. She nodded, turning off the vacuum. Yeah, she could totally do this.
CHAPTER TEN
JADE ROSE ON TIPTOE, FEELING ALONG THE TRANSOM LEDGE. SHE clutched a wad of clothing and bag of toiletries in her other arm, her calves cramping as she rose higher. She dragged her hand across years of dirt, spider webs, and—ew—a dead bug. She wiped her fingers on her yoga pants, shuddering, before resuming the task.
At the edge, her fingers nudged something metal. There. She grabbed for it, grasping the key in her hand.
“Yes!”
Her eyes swept the empty street. The brisk morning breeze stirred her hair and pebbled her skin. She unlocked the door and slipped inside, twisting the latch behind her. After two days of washing up in a sink, she was ready for a hot shower. Leaving the lights off, she made her way to the back, breathing in the stale scent of musty files.
Please let the shower work. Daniel’s grandpa had installed it during one of his terms. Jade had been young, but even she remembered the fuss taxpayers had made about the luxury.
Entering the bathroom and pulling back the mildewed curtain, the word that came to Jade’s mind was not “luxury.” Rust ringed the drain and shower handles, and hard-water stains coated the tiled walls. Ribbons of black mold clung to the grout in the corners. The dead spider balled on the floor was just a bonus.
“Ick.”
She was cleaner than the shower. Why hadn’t she thought to bring cleaning supplies? No time for that now. She’d just have to suck it up.
Grimacing, she flushed the spider and turned on the faucet, backing up when it sputtered brown water. Seconds later it began running smoothly and, thankfully, clean.
Daniel unlocked the door and stepped into his office. Early morning sunshine shone through the wooden slats, striping the room with light. “Not Gonna Die,” the last song he’d heard, played through his head, and he whistled it softly as he set his things on his desk.
Normally he preferred working in the coffee shop in the morning, but he needed copies of the form he’d completed late last night for this afternoon’s meeting. He hoped the old printer cooperated—it was a thorn in his flesh. Normally he passed the task to Betty Jean, his assistant. But it was her day off.
He stifled a yawn as he headed toward the old copier, hoping for the best. He’d helped Ryan at the farm for a couple hours the evening before, then he’d been called to an accident at the corner of Beacon and Oak. By the time the paperwork was complete, it had been after midnight.
He didn’t think Jade was faring much better. She’d been going from Grandma’s Attic to the coffee shop where she worked until closing, only to do it all over the next day. They’d hardly communicated except for a few texts. She hadn’t asked about her next dating prospect. Shoot, she probably didn’t have time to date. Fine by him.
Unfortunately, he’d already mentioned her to a friend before her mom’s heart attack, and now the guy was bugging him about a date.
He turned on the machine, set the paper on the glass, and waited for the old thing to warm up.
A thump sounded at the back of the building. He frowned, listening. The printer started the mechanical groans of waking up. He moved toward the back, wondering if a bird had gotten through the vent again. He neared the narrow hallway. The pipes behind the wall creaked and knocked.
He hoped Betty Jean hadn’t left the faucet on last night. There was no water pooling under the door, though. He turned the knob and opened the door. Steam swirled through the space. A pile of clothes sat on the sink.
Someone moved inside the shower, making the curtain billow.
“Who’s in there?” he demanded.
Someone squealed. A thump sounded as something heavy fell to the shower floor and bounced a couple times.
A head peeked out, eyes wide.
Jade. Hair wet and sudsy. What the—“Holy—”
She had the curtain clutched to her chest. Her bare chest.
He turned and faced the door, heat flooding his face. “Jade, what the heck?”
“I can explain.”
“By all means.” He stared at the six-panel door, the sharp edges of the molding softened by layers of paint. His heart hammered from the shock. Couldn’t have anything to do with Jade, three feet away, nothing between him and her naked body but a plastic shower curtain. The steam grew thick. Moisture seeped through his shirt, making it cling to his torso. The smell of oranges permeated the space.
He swallowed hard. On the sink ledge he noticed her pile of rings and a green towel. “I’ll be in the hallway.”
He shut the door behind him and leaned against the frame. A few minutes later the shower shut off, then all was quiet. He paced the short hall. What was taking so long?
“I’m waiting,” he said through the door.
She huffed. “All right, fine. I didn’t have anyplace to shower. I didn’t get the apartment, so I let myself in with your spare key.”
“What do you mean, you didn’t get the apartment? Where are you staying?”
All was quiet on the other side of the door.
“Jade?”
“At the store. I’m staying at Grandma’s Attic.”
“Your mom’s store? Next door? What for?” He was caught in a bad Dr. Seuss book.
“That would be the one. Can we save this until I’m—oh, I don’t know—dressed?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be in the office.”
Daniel waited at his desk, hands tented under his chin. What was going on with her? Living at the store? How long did she think she could keep that up? He was pretty sure it was a building code violation, not to mention the lack of amenities—though she was proving resourceful.
She appeared five minutes later in a gauzy skirt and loose top, damp hair piled in a sloppy knot. She looked about eighteen with her freshly scrubbed face, clutching her clothing to her chest.
Dancing with Fireflies Page 6