by S. M. Smith
“Jessie actually asked if the gym would be willing to let us do some sort of concession stand for the tournament too. Do you think you might be able to whip up some more of those delicious cookies for it?” I ask Amelia.
“Of course. I’ve got a couple other recipes I found on Pinterest that I’d like to try out too that I’m sure would be a hit.” She smiles kindly as Jessie joins us.
“Ugh, Pinterest. So addicting,” Jessie gushes to Amelia and they both start in on the new DIY projects they are excited about.
“So I was thinking if we could put together about twenty teams, we could do some sort of single elimination bracket type set up,” Adam says, pulling me back into more manly territory. “I think I could get at least a couple of the guys at the station to play, maybe even set up teams of their own. Then Aubrey’s friends from school. Also, I’ll check with my assistant coach at the school and see if he can put together a team. We shouldn’t have any problem with raising some good money. We’ll just need to make sure we have the space to play.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m pretty sure my guy will be up for the publicity. If not, I have a few clients who can help me find someplace to play.”
I turn to Jessie who is gabbing away quickly with Amelia.
“Ladies, I’m sorry to interrupt, but Jessie, we have an early morning tomorrow.”
Jessie blushes like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t, but she looks like she’s having the time of her life.
“We should do dinner sometime,” Amelia offers and Jessie’s eyes light up.
“Absolutely. Next week?” Jessie offers. She and Amelia set up dinner while we all walk out together. Jessie seems to be on cloud nine when we get back in the car and I’m thoroughly enjoying the view.
After buckling herself in, she pulls out her phone. A couple of taps later, she’s scrolling through a bunch of pictures.
“Oo! I could make those red velvet cookies. Oh! And those firecracker sugar cookies. Oo! And bacon chocolate chip cook—“
“Wow. Baby, you know that you’re kind of being counterproductive to the whole reason people go to a gym, right?” I ask, baffled by the recipes she can come up with.
“Oh, you’re right. I really like Amelia. I’m glad we’re doing dinner with them.” She beams up at me.
“Me too.”
She doesn’t say anything else and when I look over at her she’s scrolling through pictures again.
“What about peanut butter banana oatmeal muffins? Oo! Cinnamon craisin muffins?! Mmm. And maybe some lemony raspberry zucchini bread?”
***
“That’s great, Jerry. I really appreciate it. I’ll reach out to the team and see which Saturday works better for them and call you as soon as I hear back from them. Thanks again, man.”
I hang up my office phone and type out a quick email to David and the rest of the team. I hit send and pick up my cell to text Jess.
You have the green light on the concessions. Jerry said as long as you bring him some of those lemon blueberry muffins, you can bring whatever you want and sell it.
I try to get back to work but my phone buzzes before I can even get my laptop to boot back up.
Great!! Tell him I can definitely do that. I’ll email Amelia and let her know we’re good to fire up the ovens Yay!!
I toss my phone back onto my desk and sigh with an overwhelming sense of relief. She’s excited about something again and it has absolutely nothing to do with anything pertaining to her reproductive system or a baby.
Thank you, Jesus. Thank you.
I finally get my laptop booted back up and read over a few email before I’m called into a meeting that takes up the majority of my afternoon. I make a quick trip to the deli for a sandwich and order before I realize that I’ve left my phone on my desk. Hurrying back, I take my sandwich into my office in hopes of being able to eat it before a deposition. I pick up my phone to find six texts from Jessie, all of which have links to different recipes for breads and cookies. I find myself smiling inwardly at this new enthusiasm.
I ignore her texts for now, and pull up my email. David, Aubrey and Adam have all emailed me back, letting me know they are all free for the last Saturday in April. I have my phone in hand, redialing Jerry when Tessa pops in.
“Stephen, your three o’clock is here.” She glances apologetically at my half-eaten sandwich before taking a step to retreat.
“Thanks Tessa. Hey could you do me a favor?” I ask, wrapping my sandwich back up and handing her my phone. “Could you call this guy Jerry back and let him know that I’d like to book the gym for the last Saturday in April. Tell him that Jessie agreed to his terms. He’ll probably laugh at you, but he’ll know what I’m talking about. Then put this on the charger.” I hand her a cord out of my top drawer and pick up the files I need, hastily making my way to my meeting.
***
“Stephen,” Tessa calls out as I practically jog by her desk. I check my watch and see it’s already after six.
“I’m sorry, Tessa, but I’ve gotta get out of here. You can go, too. Have a great evening.”
“Okay thank you, but Jessie called while you were in your meeting. She said she emailed you a list of things to pick up on your way home.” She hands me a printed email that looks like a grocery list that Duff Goldman put together. One item catches my eye though and I’m all too excited to get home to her.
“Thanks Tessa. Have a good night.”
I gather my stuff and make a mad dash to the store, making sure to pick up everything I can on Jessie’s list. Judging by the look on the woman who rings up my groceries, I think she may be concerned about my blood sugar levels when I eagerly pay for my diabetic coma inducing ingredients. I ignore her though and grab my bags quickly to rush home. The place already smells like heaven when I stumble through the door.
“Hey, babe.” Jessie beams as she spins away from the fridge, arms full of eggs and milk, and bumps the door with her hip to shut it. I nearly drop the groceries right where I’m standing to storm her into the bedroom. She’s glowing, radiating a bright aura that I haven’t seen since we first got engaged.
“Hey, beautiful. So I got your list. I hope I got the right stuff.” I lay the bags on the counter and start pulling the items out for her. I purposefully pull the bottle of wine out last.
“So…is this for any particular recipe?” I ask hopefully.
She blushes and finishes dumping sugar into a canister. I watch her walk across the kitchen to throw the bag in the trash can before coming to stand in front of me. She looks up through her full lashes and smiles timidly.
“I thought we could have wine with the risotto I’m making for dinner,” she says quietly.
“We?” I ask, trying to hold back the hope in my voice, but failing miserably.
She just nods before reaching for the bottle, staring longingly at it.
“I haven’t had a drink since Hawaii,” she says, almost to the bottle. “One glass won’t hurt anything.” I don’t think it’s really possible I could be…”
I reach over and pull her chin up.
“I think if you want one glass of wine, you will be just fine.”
I see her eyes moisten just before she turns toward the fridge. She places the bottle inside to start chilling and turns back to me.
A sudden sense of overwhelming pride and adoration for this remarkably strong woman hits me and a split second later I have her in my arms, smashing her lips to mine. It takes her just a moment to respond and when she does, it’s incredibly hot. As her hands sink into my hair, I lose myself in the feel of her fingers. I let my hands find the flesh of her back and feel her melt at my touch.
And in the process of picking her up, having her legs wrap instinctively around my waist, I feel like I’ve got her back. The girl I married, the girl who told me she loved me on a rock by the creek, the girl I kissed under the mistletoe at her best friend’s Christmas party. She’s back, the girl I waited so long to be with ha
s finally returned.
Chapter Ten
~Jessie~
“Can you get that?” Janine asks, still diligently hand stirring in chocolate chips to her cookie dough batter.
I hit the stop button on her timer and pull loaves of pumpkin bread out of the oven, setting them on the range. I turn toward the counters and table, desperately searching for some place to set them to cool. I abandon them momentarily to rearrange a plate so that I can transfer the cookies from a cooling rack onto it.
The back door opens and Grady and Stephen barge in. Both men’s eyes bulge at the sight of all the cookies, breads and muffins. Both reach for a cookie I just moved and I have to slap both their hands.
“Hands off, boys,” Janine says without looking over her shoulder. That woman is good.
Grady glares at me, but Stephen just chuckles, pulling me to him and planting a kiss on my throbbing temple.
“You smell like cookies,” he growls into my ear. “Mmm, good enough to eat.” He pulls on my earlobe with his teeth, sending unwelcome, but oh-so-good trembles down my neck.
“Back off, Cahill.” I swat at him, but just manage to get my hand caught and pulled around his waist. He pulls me closer and presses me into a smoldering kiss.
“Okay, you two. Knock it off.” I feel Grady punch Stephen in the arm. I turn to glare at him.
“We’re almost done.” I push away from Stephen and he finally lets me go, but not before getting in a good squeeze of my behind. Janine turns around in time to catch it and narrows her eyes on her son.
“Then,” she says, “we have to wrap all this up. Did you boys get the boxes from the church?”
“Yep,” Grady says through a full mouth. Stephen smacks the back of his head this time for me.
“We’ll go get them,” Stephen says, pulling Grady along with him. They exit back out the back door and I find myself chuckling while Janine just shakes her head at the pair of them.
No one told me that when I got married, I’d practically adopt all my husband’s single friends as illegitimate children, but I’ve grown so accustomed to it that I just roll with it. Grady and Jason both have frequently shown up at my home with six packs and snacks hoping I won’t mind their intrusion. Most of the time I don’t, but the last couple of weeks, well since I’ve started relaxing more, I’ve found my hunky hubby turning them away to spend some alone time with me. When Grady asked if he could come to the farm with us today, probably fully aware of my “Not at our Parents” rule, Stephen and I couldn’t refuse the extra help.
We both took today off so that we could finish preparing for the tournament tomorrow and pick up the supplies that members of the church have brought in over the last few weeks for the clinic in Haiti. The response we’ve had in regard to supplies, prayer teams and even donations for a silent auction we’re putting on next week, has been completely overwhelming. After the registration fees for the tournament were added to what has already been risen, we’re only lacking about three hundred dollars to have our entire team fully funded. I look over the abundance of baked goods and think there’s no way we can’t bring in at least a couple of hundred in our concessions sales tomorrow.
I’m pulled out of my daze by the banging of boxes and the boys coming in the back door. They lay the boxes in a chair and start to make their way toward the living room, Stephen stopping to kiss both me and his mother on the cheek.
“Don’t go too far,” Janine tells him. “We’ll have these packed up in no time.”
Janine pulls out some plastic wrap after she puts a batch of chocolate chip cookies in the oven. She starts to stack peanut butter cookies in sets of three to wrap up and I join her.
“So are you getting excited about going to Haiti?” she asks kindly.
I hesitate, not because I’m not excited. I just don’t want to fight with her.
“I am,” I say hesitantly.
“You don’t sound very excited.” She eyes me over her cat-eye glasses. “What’s the matter, honey?”
Oh, how do I tell her that I don’t want to have to defend our decisions to her?
“Well…”
“Is it the fertility treatment?”
“Not—“
“Because I have to tell you; I woke up the other day with this overwhelming peace that you two are going to be okay. I have been praying that whatever decision you make that God would continue to heal you and help you two to make the right decisions for the family He has planned for you. And then I woke up earlier this week and just didn’t feel the anxiety I had been.”
I don’t know what to say. I really wasn’t expecting this.
“Janine, I stopped taking my hormones several weeks ago. I have already come to terms with all of that. I just feel like I’ve had to defend my choices to a lot of people lately. I really am excited to go, but sometimes I don’t get to really show it because I’m always having to watch what I say to avoid an argument I don’t want to have.”
I find myself watching my hands as they tie ribbons around the wrapped cookies.
“Rise up, O God, and defend your cause; remember how fools mock you all day long.” I look up at Janine. She smiles politely and explains herself. “Psalm seventy four, twenty-two. I can remember when Mark and I would do things that wouldn’t always make sense to our cause. My mother quoted it to me and I’ll never forget it.
“It was especially helpful when we moved here. At the time, it didn’t make sense to anyone how it would be more profitable for Mark to leave his position to buy a farm and take up an associate pastor position in the middle of southwest Missouri, but we knew that God would provide for us. And He has. I know that you guys have had to cling to the same principle that God will provide.”
I don’t know what to say. She’s normally our biggest critic, so hearing her like this blows me away. She steps away from the cookies and plastic wrap and wipes her hand on her apron before turning to me. She pulls me into a hug and still baffled, I just let her hold me.
“I’m just so proud of how well you both have met all opposition so far,” she tells me softly as she pulls back to face me. “Especially me. I know I’m not the most agreeable person sometimes. Please know that even when I’m not agreeing with you, I’m still proud of the people both you and Stephen have grown to be.”
She wipes a tear from her eye and smiles before turning back to the cookies and starts wrapping again.
***
“Jessie, we’re out of the blueberry muffins, the red velvet, and white chocolate macadamia nut cookies,” Monica tells me as we get a brief break.
“Wow. That was fast.” I check my watch. The tournament started a little over an hour ago, and being out of almost a third of our inventory is a good sign. I turn to Amelia. “How much did that bring in?”
“Already over eighty dollars. I’m pretty confident that if we can keep this up, we should be fully funded by the end of the tournament.” God definitely knew what he was doing when He organized our team. Amelia’s accounting background has helped immensely.
The idea of being fully funded makes me giddy, especially when we have more people approach our stand. That giddiness continues to grow as we serve a steady stream of players and their families who have come to watch them. Monica, Amelia and I are tied up with the concession stand and are unable to check in with the guys to see how the tournament is going as more and more people hear about our awesome cookies and muffins. Before long, we’re down to only a few dozen cookies and muffins and about ten slices of various breads left. Our pricing poster has started to look more like a tic-tac-toe board as we mark out items that are sold out.
We finally catch a break and find a very sweaty, and exhausted looking Aubrey headed toward our table.
“Hey, ladies, how is the sale coming?” she asks, after downing half her water bottle.
“Very well,” Amelia answers enthusiastically. “Three hundred two dollars. Which means we’ve met our goal.” She beams up at me and Monica. Aubrey nearly spits water al
l over us.
“From a bunch of cookies and breads? That’s amazing!” She pulls the drawstring bag she has strapped to her back around and pulls out a tattered composition book and starts firing away with questions on what all we had, what sold the best, our total in sales today alone and what customers were saying about our products. She stands in awe, staring at our stand. Something clicks for her and you can almost see a light bulb illuminate above her head.
“Jessie! You’re a photographer, right?”
“Yes,” I answer, wondering where she’s going with this.
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. Could you take a few shots of the tournament, the winners, your stand. I know it’s a little late to get the full swing of things, but they could be great for the blog. I’m also putting together a presentation for my church to show them afterward to help with the youth groups.”
“Yeah. I have a camera in my car actually.” I turn back to Monica and Amelia to make sure they are okay with me leaving for a bit. They both shoo me away, both excited that we’ve had such great success.
Excited myself, I make a mad dash to the car and start snapping pictures as soon as I get back inside. I shuffle my way around the gym, catching some good shots of various people playing. I smile inwardly as I hear the steady clicks of my shutter mix with the squeaks of sneakers on the polished gym floor.
After a few minutes, I see Stephen, shirtless and perfectly glossed over with a sheen of sweat from across the gym talking to Eric and Adam by the bracket board. I snap a few shots for myself before making my way over to talk to them.
Stephen sees me coming and gives me a carnal smile. The fire in his eyes is intoxicating, so I turn a friendly smile to Eric and Adam to rebalance my focus.
“Hey, guys. How is the tournament going?” I stop next to Stephen, feeling the heat of his stare and his bare chest as I do my best not to look at him. I’m pretty sure if I do, I’ll melt right into his arms, there in the middle of the gym, in front of half our mission team. Sheesh! It’s dangerous having a hot husband.