"How's--" Jon-Tom jerked a thumb at Jeri, afraid to say her name, and ashamed of what he had been thinking.
"Jeri." Angela rested a hand on the sleeper's tousled head. No reaction. "Jeri Hollis, wake up." She shook her slightly, and still no response. "Natalie St. Germaine Hollister."
"Leave me--" Jeri sat bolt upright and raised her arms as if warding off a blow. For two heartbeats, her eyes were wide, her face alabaster pale, and she froze. Then her face went red and she subsided, drooping as if her fright had exhausted her. "Uh. Hi."
"Have a nice nap?" Jon-Tom dropped into the chair next to her, fighting the urge to wrap an arm around her and ask who had hurt her. He hadn't missed the long name Angela had used, which didn't match the one Jeri had given them. It didn't take much imagination to guess Jeri Hollis was trying to escape trouble of some kind.
Did he want a woman in hiding to take care of Jerry's baby until he got hold of his friend?
"What time is it?" Jeri blushed even darker when her stomach rumbled loudly.
"Time for something to eat," Angela said. She sat down in the third chair, after depositing the basket on the fourth chair, and the enormous shopping bag under it. "You're just worn out, aren't you?"
"Not anymore," Jeri mumbled. She rubbed at her neck, then raked both hands through her hair. "Look, I don't want to impose. And I'm really sorry about falling asleep in your store. Hope I didn't scare off any customers."
"Don't worry about it. People get exactly what they need and what they're looking for when they come to Divine's." Angela winked. "I guarantee, nobody was looking for you, so they didn't see you. Now, why don't we get this little guy settled for another nap, and we'll go get comfortable upstairs and have something to eat?"
Angela didn't lock the front door when she led them up to her living quarters, even though her part-time clerk, Diane, wasn't in today. Jon-Tom had learned long ago that she always knew when someone came into her store, and nobody ever stole. They might temporarily borrow something, but they never stole.
He gladly followed Angela and Jeri up to the second floor. The table was already set for three. An open drawer in the bureau under the fantasy landscape painting made a temporary bed for the baby. His hands shook a little when Angela handed the basket to him, but he liked the warmth and softness that filled his arms when he picked up the baby, cuddled him a few seconds, and put him down in his makeshift bed. The little guy gave him a wet baby grin, blew a few bubbles, and closed his eyes.
"I just... Thanks but... Where I come from, people aren't this nice to total strangers." Jeri slid into the chair Angela pointed out to her. Discomfort was bright and clear in her eyes, so Jon-Tom felt sorry for her.
"Don't you worry about anything. Neighborlee doesn't do things quite the way the rest of the world does. People come here for quiet, for peace, for safety. It's a nice town even though it has its flaws. There are some repulsive characters here, but on the whole, you couldn't find a nicer town to visit." Angela brought a platter of sandwiches from the refrigerator. She set it down and added a fruit gelatin, a bowl of potato salad and a pitcher of iced tea loaded with lemon slices.
"Oh, no, I'm not visiting. I'm here to stay," Jeri said quickly. She glanced at Jon-Tom, caught him grinning at her, and looked away.
"So, Jon-Tom," Angela said, "any progress?"
While they ate, he gave them a quick run-down of the people he had managed to talk to, and all the computerized systems he had fought with while trying to track down Jerry. Every few bites, Jeri stopped eating and gave him a look that clearly said she couldn't believe he'd gone to all that trouble for someone, even a good friend.
Jon-Tom decided to pity her bad experiences rather than feel angry over her lack of faith in people.
When Angela asked him about his woodworking business, he got carried away, as usual, about the woods he was working with, his new designs, the fun he was having with the summer apprenticeship program for the kids in town. Before he knew it, Angela had refilled the iced tea twice and they'd started on their dessert of raspberry sherbet and lemon cookies.
The big grandfather clock downstairs chimed six.
"What?" Jeri leaped from her chair, but instead of running away she stood still, legs trembling. "I thought we were having lunch. I spent the whole day here? City Hall is closed," she wailed.
"I wouldn't worry about it," Angela said. "You have more than enough supplies to get you through the night."
"But I don't know anything about babies." She sank down into the chair again. "I'd kill him without meaning to. I can't even keep a goldfish alive. I didn't even know what to feed him when I found him."
"I'm sure Jon-Tom will help you." Angela sent him a meaningful glance.
"Sure. Be glad to," he hurried to assure her. "We're practically next-door neighbors, anyway. I'm in the house behind you, to the right."
"Your right or my right?" Jeri mumbled. It had to be hard to talk with her chin resting on her fists, her elbows on the table.
"Doesn't matter, does it? Our fences touch. You call for help and I'll be over the fence and at your back door before you know it."
"You're just trusting me with your best friend's baby?" Her pale face flushed red, then paled again. She turned to Angela. "I mean, I'd love to take him, but there has to be some laws, right? I don't know the first thing about babies, but I know they can get sick and you have to feed them and keep them clean and warm. I don't want to hurt him."
"But you do want to keep him, don't you?" Angela asked. There was something in her tone that made Jon-Tom think she was making a statement rather than verifying something.
"It's crazy, but yes, I do." Jeri's voice cracked on the last word, and she took deep breaths, visibly fighting panic. She sat back in her chair and raked her fingers through her hair again. "I'm sorry. I'm not making a very good impression, am I? Considering that when I came in, the most important thing in the world was passing the little guy on to someone else."
The wobbly smile she gave them did something to Jon-Tom's insides. His irritation at her panic turned into pity. What kind of a deprived life had she led, that the thought of taking care of a tiny little baby terrified her? Didn't all girls fight to babysit? Didn't all girls love babies?
No. He knew that was a lie, didn't he?
"You're going to be all right." He reached over and squeezed her hand. "I don't know much, but I'll help you all I can. And I bet Angela can give you a few lessons."
"Whatever you need, you can get it here. Supplies, furniture, advice." Angela nodded for emphasis. "Especially friends."
Something shot through Jon-Tom at the feel of Jeri's little hand, soft and warm, almost lost in his grip. She blushed pink and he could have sworn he heard a voice inside his head give out a victory howl.
* * * *
"Thanks." Jeri almost added "want to come inside?" but she knew better. She stepped onto the porch and dug in her pocket for her keys.
Jon-Tom had walked her home after a long, bewildering crash course in baby care from Angela. Who would have thought when she got up that morning that she would end up with a baby in her house, even if it was only for a few days? Who would have thought she would spend the evening with a shopkeeper and consider her the closest thing she had to a friend, outside of Rita the Rebel? Her aunt would die of embarrassment if she knew Jeri had socialized with a "mercenary" shopkeeper. And taken lessons from her, no less.
If Aunt Eleanora were here, she would have swept into the nearest hiring agency-- No, strike that, she would have sent her secretary to the nearest hiring agency to get a nanny for the baby. She would have dragged Jeri out of her cozy little cottage, entirely out of the town of Neighborlee, taken her to the richest suburb of Cleveland and deposited her in a penthouse apartment. Then she would have dragged her to a spa to get her hair and nails done, along with a whirlwind shopping trip to replace all the fashionable outfits Jeri had dumped at the Salvation Army store on her way out of town two months ago.
Aunt E
leanora would never understand the warm feeling Jeri got every time the baby smiled at her. Nor the butterfly, giddy feeling she got when Jon-Tom laughed at her attempts at humor, or when he looked into her eyes.
Definitely, Aunt Eleanora would have a stroke if she knew Jeri liked this woodworker who wanted her to watch the baby until his buddy came back to claim his son. It wasn't just that Jon-Tom wore paint-smeared denim, and sneakers without socks. He wasn't a blueblood who could trace his ancestors back to some medieval warlord.
Hadn't that been part of the biggest reason she changed her name and hair and her entire lifestyle? Aunt Eleanor was determined to marry her off to someone with the right bloodlines. Someone so inbred he wasn't worth anything except to wear fancy clothes, drive expensive cars, and escort models and actresses to movie premiers.
Not a man who would fight for a baby's right to be tended by someone who cared, instead of a cold, unfeeling System. A man who would fight for his best friend's child. A man who made furniture and toys for children, with his own hands, instead of telling someone else what to do, and who walked her home instead of calling a taxi or hiring a bodyguard. A man who promised to jump over the fence separating their back yards the moment she called for him.
It didn't really matter, at this point, if Jon-Tom actually did it or not. The fact that he'd offered was enough for her.
Why couldn't she ask him inside and offer him some lemonade? It was hot out. It was only neighborly to offer him something to drink, right?
Jeri hardly recognized herself in those thoughts. She hadn't been raised to think about anyone, except when it would ultimately make her look good or benefit her in the long term.
"I don't know what I would have done without you today," she said, after gazing into his eyes a few seconds longer than was safe.
"Probably not got yourself saddled with a kid that isn't yours?" he offered with a grin.
"Junior's a sweetheart. And you did say Jerry would get back to you as soon as possible, and he'd take over."
"You believe me?"
"Yeah." She wanted to laugh when his face lit up. Why did her belief mean so much to him?
"Do you want me to carry all this gear inside? If you don't feel comfortable with me in the house, I understand. First date and all."
"No, that's okay." Jeri knew she was tired, but not too tired to know that denying they'd had a date at all would be the ultimately wrong thing to do. And honestly, she had more fun today than she had known on dates with ten socially acceptable men, combined. "Um, let me unlock and you can just...um, put it inside the door."
No way in the world was she going to admit she didn't have any place to put the baby except the basket where he was already asleep. She had a mattress on the floor, a folding table and two folding chairs, a makeshift sofa of cushions and throws, and milk crates for shelves and tables throughout the rest of the house. Bad enough he had to step inside and see her bare living room.
"Need some help with the floors?"
Jon-Tom laughed when she took two hasty steps backwards and put the baby basket down behind her. "Refinishing the floors. They're gorgeous. Need about twenty coats of varnish and ten years of dirt stripped away, but you've got beautiful wood underneath all that. A few scatter rugs and you won't need much decorating."
"What are you? Carpenter or interior decorator?" She managed to laugh. The end of the effort was much more assured than the beginning.
"In the winter, when things slow down and people aren't coming from out of state to buy furniture, I do a lot of remodeling, renovations, things like that." He shrugged. "It's a good rainy day project. And I just thought, since you haven't put your furniture in here yet, you were waiting until you'd done the floors."
"I don't have much furniture to speak of," she admitted. Jeri felt her heart skitter a few beats at that utterly reckless disregard for her cherished privacy. What was it about Jon-Tom that made her want to open up?
Maybe it was as simple as the warmth in his eyes and his crooked smile when he looked at his friend's baby. What would it be like to have a friend so good, he'd step in and watch out for her interests even when she had done something stupid?
Jeri sighed, knowing better than to go in that direction.
"Starting over, huh?" Jon-Tom nodded and stepped back, over the threshold. "Takes a lot of guts to just drop everything and take a chance. Angela has a lot of great furniture in the back room. If you want anything brought over here, just give me a holler."
"You'll bring it over the fence?" It felt good to laugh with him, even though they both muffled the sound for the sake of the sleeping baby.
"I have a truck. G'night, Jeri. See you in the morning." He winked, turned the button on the lock, and pulled the door closed behind himself.
"'Night." She waited until she saw him pass the front window, then turned off the overhead light, picked up the basket, and stumbled by moonlight to the back of the house. Her bedroom had sheets over the windows and another sheet under the mattress, to protect it on the floor. She checked the baby to make sure he was sleeping straight and wouldn't strangle himself on his thin blanket, and then got ready for bed.
Jeri dreamed of wandering through Divine's Emporium, finding dishes and linens, vintage clothing, curtains, a dozen items that snatched at her imagination. Anything that would brighten her empty, echoing little cottage and make it her place. She had never been allowed to choose her own style before, or even decide what that style should be. Now she had a chance.
When she woke, she let out a cry of dismay that her house wasn't decorated in bright colors against white, pristine walls, wasn't furnished with mismatched dishes and retro furniture from the fifties and sixties.
She thought about her dream. Angela couldn't possibly have any of the things she wanted. Still, was there any harm in looking? For once, she would listen to her interests and whims instead of bowing to the dictates of those who claimed they knew better.
Who knew what she would find at Divine's Emporium?
She stumbled through changing Junior's diaper and felt some measure of triumph. Not bad after only one lesson. Jeri managed not to gag at the unusual smell when she mixed enough formula to fill all the bottles Angela had found and sterilized for her yesterday. She mixed enough juice and water to keep Junior hydrated for the entire day, and filled the three original bottles that had come with the basket and baby.
Jon-Tom arrived in time to help her figure out how to bathe Junior in her bathroom sink. Jeri had an unreasonable fear of the slippery, wriggling little boy sliding out of her hands and drowning, even though there was barely enough water to cover his chubby little toes.
"Not so bad, was it?" He laughed at her when they were finished, both of them spattered with water and suds up to their eyebrows.
"Not at all. Were you serious about helping me furnish this place?"
"Absolutely. Where do you need to go?"
"Just check in with me at Divine's this afternoon." Jeri sighed, mostly to fight the self-deprecating laughter trying to bubble up. "I'm going to need a lot of baby advice from Angela, and you have a business to run."
"That's the nice part about being self-employed. The boss likes me and he's flexible."
Her heart gave that funny little skip again, directly connected to the warmth of his smile.
* * * *
Jon-Tom thought about Jeri's smile all morning. He considered offering her the set of chairs and table Mr. Albersythe had ordered for his fiftieth anniversary next month, and that startled him. But not enough to stop him from looking through the odds and ends he had sitting around his workshop, things that hadn't turned out as he originally planned, or experimental items he had worked on when business was slow.
He had kicked himself on the walk home from her house last night, for not realizing that her living room and dining room weren't empty by choice. Those shadows in her eyes were from fear. She had come to Neighborlee with very little, to start a new life.
Jon-Tom admired
Jeri for having the guts to strike out on her own and escape whatever or whoever had hurt her. But was it just admiration that made him want to throw out today's work schedule in favor of helping her?
The phone rang, clashing with the fading scream of his table saw. Jon-Tom jumped, nearly dropping the length of cherry wood right on top of the slowing blade. Muffling a curse, he scrambled across his shop and snatched up the phone.
"Hey, what's this about a baby with my name on him?" Jerry Hollis roared.
Jon-Tom told his best friend all about his meeting with Jeri and the note and how much the baby looked like him. Jerry interrupted with curses and questions, and forced him to repeat portions of the story several times.
"This reeks of Maggie's stepbrother. I tell you, the guy wants her for himself. I don't know how many times I left messages on her answering machine or sent her cards and presents. Her slimebag stepbrother would get into her apartment or open up her mailbox, take everything I sent, and erase my messages. And then he'd keep pounding her with how I never took care of her and didn't talk to her and left her alone all the time. The guy's sick, that's all I can say," Jerry snarled.
"You didn't know she was pregnant, did you?" That was the most important part of the conversation, to Jon-Tom.
"You think I'd be here if I did? We had a big fight just before I shipped out. She was supposed to come with me. I was planning on marrying her over here. I figured I'd take her on a trip on my first leave, propose in a castle, do the whole romantic deal, but all of a sudden she changed her mind. Or got it changed for her. I gotta find her. You'll watch out for my kid, won't you?"
"What do you think I've been doing? You are such a screw-up, it's a miracle the Marines let you hang around."
They laughed together, like they used to when they were just boys, getting in trouble over stupid pranks and adventures.
His laughter died the minute Jon-Tom hung up the phone. What was he going to do with Junior until Jerry found Maggie and straightened things out? Jeri had been willing to help out when it seemed like only a day or two of tending him. What if it took a week, or weeks? What about months?
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