Flirting With Pete: A Novel

by Barbara Delinsky

  “No, I didn’t,” she argued, puzzled. “I asked questions, then I left.”

  His smile was grim. “Clearly, you’ve never lived in a small town. The call I just got was from my dad, and it wasn’t only to say that you’d been to the house. Word’s spreading already. I’d wager that by morning, most everyone in Walker will know you were there, and why.”

  “I was only asking questions.”

  “You were raising doubts. Whenever there’s a violent death with no body to show for it, there’s doubt. Jenny’s death had been put to rest. Now you’ve resurrected it.”

  Had he yelled, she might have argued more. But the sensible tone he used was hard to fight. With caution now, she asked, “And what’s the harm in that?”

  Jordan studied her for a minute. Then he hitched his head toward the room behind him and said with resignation, “Come in. You can read it for yourself.”

  She went forward. As soon as he closed the door behind her, he set off for another room. The one she was in was large, minimalist in decor but attractive and clean. She saw no paintings— not on the wall, not on easels. Aside from the art books stacked on a simple wood table, there was no evidence that he was interested in painting, much less had painted the pieces she had seen in his parents’ home.

  Casey swallowed. She wrapped her arms around her middle. She didn’t have to be told to know that he owned this place, just as he owned the shop downstairs. On this turf, he exuded command. She struggled to process the fact that her bad-boy gardener was a man of greater skill and smarts than she had initially thought.

  And she had aimed to shock Connie by having an affair with him? What a joke that was! Except the joke was on her. Connie would not have been shocked. Far from it. Hadn’t he asked, through his lawyer, that she retain the gardener? An argument could therefore be made that Connie had actually fixed them up.

  She found that thought humiliating. She didn’t dwell on it, though, because Jordan returned to the living room carrying a large manila envelope. When he reached her, he held it out.

  “This is what you’re missing, I believe.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Little Falls

  Head held high, Jenny fairly floated along the side of the road, moving through air so clear it sparkled. The fog that had spent the night in town had dispersed with the sun, giving her an unobstructed view of all she passed, and she put it to good use. Her eyes searched out the people she usually avoided. They found Angie Booth and her two mongrels, all three startled into silence by her smile. Likewise Hester Johnson and her sister, who froze in the act of removing the mail from the box that stood by their rusty hinged gate. Nick Farina stared without saying a word and that gave Jenny pause, but only until she thought of Pete. Then she smiled at Nick, too.

  She found herself humming. It was one of the songs she and Pete had danced to at Giro’s. She strode on in time to the beat.

  Merle Little’s car approached from ahead, passed her, then slowed. She imagined Merle was stunned by her grin, but she didn’t look back. Instead, she smiled at Essie Bunch, who stopped sweeping her veranda to watch her pass, and though Jenny couldn’t actually see the Websters, the Cleegs, or Myra Ellenbogen, she smiled in the direction of the television sounds coming from their homes and fancied they were amazed.

  She turned the corner onto Main Street, where the same people had parked the same cars at the same angle they always did. She walked under those deep green awnings with large white letters, past the same people sitting once again on the same wood benches.

  Old habits died hard for her, too, though. All of them staring at her at such close range made her nervous. But today she didn’t lower her head, and she refused to look away. After a second of remembering the woman Pete had helped her find inside herself, she met their eyes and smiled.

  She continued on to the last side street, turned right, then turned in at the Neat Eats sign. Miriam was in the big kitchen stuffing cannoli with a pastry cone. She looked up. Her hands were suspended for several bars of a hard-driving country song before she punched an elbow at the radio switch, killing the sound.

  “Jenny, you look different again, and it isn’t just the hair.” She set down the cone. “Today’s the day Darden comes home, isn’t it? You seem calm. Even… happy?”

  Jenny was. Oh, she was. What she had been dreading for so long was here, and things were nowhere near as bleak as she had thought they would be. Choices. They were the key. She had choices now. “I wanted to tell you before you heard from someone else. I’m leaving Little Falls.”

  “No way.”

  Jenny grinned. “I am. With Pete. Remember I told you about him?”

  “You bet I do. He’s the guy with the leather jacket and boots. The biker. Jenny, uh, how much do you know about him?”

  Jenny drew a little heart in the confectioners’ sugar that dusted the edge of the table. “Enough. And he’s not a biker, not like you think. He has a motorcycle, but there’s no gang. He’s the nicest person I’ve ever met. He brings me things and takes me places. We went to Giro’s Sunday night.”

  “Hey, so did I. When were you there?”

  “Late. Around midnight.”

  “No way. I was there from eleven to one. I’d have seen you.”

  “Well, it might have been one-thirty. I don’t remember, we did so much that night.” Memory of it made her blush.

  Miriam glanced at the window. “Is he outside?”

  “No. He’s back home, getting ready.”

  “But I want to meet him.”

  Jenny wasn’t taking any chances. Pete was her savior. He was her pride and joy, her heart’s desire. She wasn’t having anyone meet him and find fault just because he was hers.

  So, politely, she said, “There isn’t time. We’re leaving tonight.”

  “Tonight. Oh, wow!” More cautiously, “Does your father know?”

  Jenny was back to drawing in the sugar, an arrow through the heart this time. “Not yet. But we’ll wait to see him before we go.” She made a mess of the arrow’s feathers and erased it all. It didn’t matter. She didn’t need to draw pictures. She had the real thing etched inside. “So, anyway, I wanted to let you know I won’t be coming to work anymore.”

  “That’s okay. Like I told you, it’s slowing down fast.”

  “I wanted to thank you. You’ve been nice.”

  Miriam pouted. She wiped her hands on her apron and gave Jenny as much of a hug as she could without smudging her with powder. Then she held her back. “Where are you going?”

  “To his family’s ranch in Wyoming. Maybe if you’re driving around there, you’ll come see me.”

  “What’s the name of the ranch?”

  “South Fork.” When Miriam looked skeptical, she explained, “It’s at a fork in the road, just south of Montana.”

  “Ahh. Well, that sounds exciting. Good luck. Hey, listen, if you want me to write a recommendation, I will. I’ll say what a good worker you’ve been.”

  “Oh, I won’t be working. Pete has money, and besides, I’ll be busy on the ranch.”

  Miriam gave her hand a floury squeeze. “I’m glad for you. It’s good you’re leaving. You need a new start. I hope everything works out with your guy, Pete.”

  *

  “Pete?” Dan O’Keefe asked. He had a hand up holding open the screen door of the room in his garage that housed the Little Falls Police. The outside of the door was framed by ivy. It made the place a little more approachable. “That the same one Reverend Putty told me about yesterday?”

  Jenny looked past him to the desk, bookshelves, file cabinets, and electronic equipment crammed into too small a space. She refused to let his doubtful tone wreck her good mood. “He’s taking me back to Wyoming with him. We’re only staying here until Darden gets home.”

  “He’s coming in on the bus?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “The six-twelve?” Dan pushed the door open wider and gestured her in with the hitch of his chin. “Let’s
talk about this.”

  Jenny’s good cheer did falter then. The police office held memories she didn’t care to revisit. She hadn’t planned on going inside. It was bad enough to look in at the place through a pretty ivy frame.

  But Dan had always treated her better than most. She wanted him to see that she was calm now, that she knew what she was doing and wasn’t afraid. She wanted him to see she was happy.

  He brushed dust from the seat of the wood chair across from the desk, and settled on the desk’s corner.

  She stood behind the wood chair with her fingers curled over its top.

  “Don’t want to sit?”

  She shook her head, shrugged, smiled an apology.

  “We were rough on you, huh? You seemed older than eighteen back then. Hard to remember you weren’t. Does Darden know you’re leaving?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Does he know about Pete?”

  “Not yet.”

  “He won’t be happy.”

  Jenny felt whispers of the old panic. But that old panic came from confusion and guilt, as much as fear. Now she had Pete to help with the fear, and while there was still guilt, the confusion was gone. She wasn’t staying with Darden. She wasn’t living that way. Pete had given her a choice. She knew what she had to do.

  The whispers died away. She stood straighter, took a deep breath, and said with a smile, “I told him I’d be here when he got back, so I will be. But then I’m leaving. He’s been in jail six years. Well, so have I. He’s getting out, so I am. He wants to come back here, I want to leave. I’m twenty-four. I have a right to decide what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

  “No need to convince me,” Dan said. “I’m the one who’s been telling you to leave. I only wish you’d done it sooner— got more of a head start on him.”

  Jenny wasn’t worried. “He won’t find me.”

  “Well, he’s not allowed to leave the state without permission. That’s a rule of his parole.” He flexed his shoulder, like it was sore. “Of course, he might do it anyway, but if he does, they’ll go after him. Want to give me an idea where you’ll be, so I can alert the authorities if there’s a problem?”

  She shook her head. “You’ll be the first one Darden asks.”

  “I’d never tell him. You know I’m on your side.” His brows went up. “You think he’ll torture me to make me tell?” He chuckled. “I’m taller and stronger than he is. Besides, I’m the law. He won’t hurt me.”

  “People do crazy things when they’re desperate.”

  “Darden’s not that crazy.”

  “He’s a mean man. You said it yourself. Anyway,” she said with a burst of renewed excitement, “we’ll be riding for a while, Pete and me. It might be weeks before we get to his place.”

  “Maybe I ought to meet him, this Pete. Then I could vouch for him if Darden starts yelling that you’ve been taken against your will. Is he around?”

  It was eleven-thirty. Pete might be sleeping. Or showering. Or doing his laundry. Jenny had offered to do it for him, but he had refused. He said it was luxury enough having a washer and dryer to use after days on the road, and that he wasn’t having her be his slave. He had even taken the last of her things to wash along with his. The last time anyone had washed anything for her, she had been nine.

  “Rides a motorcycle?” Dan asked with a teasing grin. “Seems to me there was a time when you wanted one of those yourself. Not too long ago— what was it, three, four years since Nick Farina’s grandson rode one into town? Old Nick was fit to be tied. Hated the sound, hated the looks. You, you’d stop and drool every time you passed. Old Nick hated that, too. He nearly had a heart attack when the grandson considered selling the bike to you. I think Nick would’ve moved rather than see and hear that machine every day. Strange, he hasn’t complained about your Pete’s.”

  Jenny smiled. “When you go fast enough, no one sees or hears.”

  “I’ve never heard that, Jenny Clyde.” Dan studied her in the way he had of telling her he knew a whole lot about a whole lot— and briefly, so briefly, she wanted to hug him for being kinder than most. But she didn’t know how he would take to that, and then the urge passed.

  He rubbed his shoulder again, frowning now. “I worry about you. Reverend Putty says you’re lying around in your nightgown all day.”

  Jenny’s smile turned coy. “Reverend Putty’s wrong. I only put the nightgown on when he came.” She remained behind the chair only long enough to see that Dan got her drift, then she went to the door. “I have to go. I just wanted to say goodbye. I’m sorry if my leaving’s going to make more work for you.”

  “For me?”

  “With Darden.”

  “I’ll handle Darden.”

  She nodded, gave him one last big smile, and was gone.

  By the time she reached the school, it was 11:50 and warm. She pulled off her sweatshirt and tied it around her waist, then sat down at the end of the stone wall edging the playground and smiled her way through ten minutes’ worth of the earliest of her childhood memories. No matter that they were part real, part made-up. People needed happy memories, just like they needed adoring grandmothers and aunts.

  At twelve sharp, the bell rang. Joey Battle was one of the last children out of the school. He came stumbling down the steps in heated argument with another boy, who gave him a mighty shove and ran off. Joey was scrambling up off the ground, looking murderous and ready to give chase, when he saw Jenny. By the time he was heading her way, the murderous look had mellowed to one of hurt.

  She fell into step beside him, lifting his baseball cap up so she could see his eyes. “What was that about?”

  “He called me a mutant.”

  “Being a mutant isn’t so bad if it means you’re different from him. He’s a bully. I could tell.”

  “The kids like him more than they like me.”

  “They don’t like him. They’re afraid of him.”

  “I wish they were afraid of me.”

  “No, you don’t. You want them to like you. They will.”

  “When?”

  “When you start liking them. It’s catching.”

  He kicked an acorn out of the way. “Did the kids like you?”

  “Some did.”

  “Because you liked them?”

  “Yes.”

  “So why don’t they like you now?”

  “Maybe,” she said, “it’s because they’re afraid of me.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  That was one of the reasons, even apart from their looks, why they were friends. She wished she could take him with her, but she couldn’t. She wished she could ease things for him here, but she couldn’t do that either. All she could do was to hope that he would remember her as someone who loved him— surrogate mother, aunt, sister, whatever he chose to pretend— and smile at the memory sometimes.

  She scratched the top of the cap that hid the short wisps of red hair that were all Selena had left of his curls. Her hand had no sooner lowered when Joey’s fingers found it and slipped inside. Immediately, she felt emotion tugging at her heart.

  “How come you’re here?” he asked.

  “I have to say goodbye. I’m going away.”

  His eyes flew to hers. “Where are you going?”

  “To Wyoming.”

  “When’ll you be back?” It was almost more of an accusation than a question.

  She couldn’t tell him the truth. Feeling a twinge of guilt and more than a little sadness, she said, “Not for a while.”

  “When?”

  How to explain to a child?

  “I don’t want you going away,” he cried.

  The tug on her heart grew sharper. “That’s ‘cause we’re pals.”

  “Why are you going?”

  “I have to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I met a man—”

  Joey tore his hand from hers and raced off. But her legs were longer than his. She caught up fast.

/>   “That always happens,” he cried when she stopped him. “First Mama, now you.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.” Jenny crouched down and held him still. “No. It’s not the same with me. But I can’t stay here, Joey. My father’s coming back.”

  “So? You said he didn’t kill your mother.”

  “He didn’t. But he did other things. Does other things. I can’t stay.”

  “Take me with you.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t.”

  “Why not?” he yelled.

  She pulled him close and held him, just as she would a child of her own, and in that brief instant, she allowed the pain of leaving to wash through her. Her throat tightened. Her eyes filled with tears. She felt more sad than she would have dreamed possible, and suddenly deathly scared.

  It was a while before she was able to whisper, “I wish I could explain, but you’re too young, and anyway, I don’t have the words.”

  “Is Wyoming far?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you ever be back?”

  She hesitated, then breathed a quiet, “No.”

  “I’ll never see you again?”

  She held him back so that she could see his face, his freckled, dirt-smudged face now streaked with tears. “You will. Just not here.”

  “Where?”

  “Somewhere else.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “So how do you know you’ll see me at all?”

  Jenny thought of Pete and how he had come along just when she was out of hope, and she felt a sudden conviction. Quietly, she said, “Because I do.”

  He seemed to be holding his breath. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. Then smiled. “It’ll be a surprise. You won’t be expecting me, then, boom— there I’ll be. Honest. That’s how it’ll happen.”

  “Maybe next year?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Or when I’m big?”

  “Who knows.” She brushed her thumbs over his cheeks to wipe away the tears.

  His eyes suddenly lit. “When it happens, will you take me to Chuck E. Cheese?”

  She nodded.

  “O-kay,” he said, grinning. Then he danced away. “I gotta go.”