She shrugged. “He can come across pompous in his column at times. Sort of a know-it-all. I didn't think I'd like him.”
He chuckled. “It's obvious that Belle likes him. Does he have any idea what that woman is up to?”
“I haven't warned him, if that's what you mean.” Jane felt defensive. She wasn't sure if the feeling was for Belle's benefit or Clive's. “He's a pretty smart guy. I'm sure he'll figure it out.”
“I'd say that he's also too old for her, but age doesn't seem to matter to that woman.”
“Craig,” said Jane. “You don't need to keep calling her ‘that woman' like she's some kind of criminal or lowlife or something.”
He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I suppose that is juvenile on my part.” He winked as he nodded toward the door. “Speak of the devil.” Then he put his hand over his mouth. “I mean she devil.”
She gave him a warning look, then glanced up in time to see not only Belle, but also Clive walking toward them.
“Oh, hello, you two,” said Belle cheerfully. “I'm giving Clive the tour of the town and I told him he simply had to come to the Coffee Shop for pie.”
Clive smiled. “She said the coconut cream is to die for.”
Jane smiled. “You can't go wrong with any pie here. The blackberry is a specialty.”
He nodded. “That sounds appealing too. With ice cream.”
“Would you like to join us?” offered Craig.
“Oh no,” said Belle, “we wouldn't dream of intruding, would we, Clive?”
He appeared to be at a loss for words, but Craig assured them that their company would not be an intrusion. Still, Belle tugged on Clive's arm, insisting that they shouldn't interfere with Jane and Craig's “little lunch.”
“What'd I say?” said Craig quietly as Belle and Clive took a table against the far wall.
Jane shook her head. “I'm surprised you were so eager to have them join us.”
“Not her,” said Craig, “Just him. Unfortunately, it was a package deal.” He shook his head. “A man like Clive Fagler couldn't possibly be interested in someone like Belle. Could he?”
“They say opposites attract.” Jane glanced at their table then away again. “And Belle is a pretty woman.”
“In a fluffy sort of way,” said Craig. “Kind of like petunias. I don't really like them much, except that they give a lot of instant color and cheer.”
“Why, I thought you loved all flowers equally,” she teased.
“I appreciate them for their various traits. But I do have my favorites.”
“Such as?”
“Columbine.”
“Columbine?” She considered his choice. “A nice enough flower, but not exactly splashy or dramatic or exciting.”
“No, but somewhat mysterious, alluring and interesting because it's a delicate yet hardy plant.”
“Hmm.” She took a spoonful of soup. “I can see you've given this careful thought.”
“I like peonies too.” He laughed.
“Aha!” She pointed her spoon at him. “Now there's diversity for you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Somehow, Belle managed to occupy Clive for the remainder of Thursday. Jane told herself that it was of no matter to her, but she experienced a letdown. Also, she was becoming more and more nervous over Justin's impending arrival. As a result, she found herself baking on Thursday night. Louise and Alice kept her company until after nine, but they finally tired and Jane shooed them off to their beds, promising that she'd call it quits before long. Her hope in her frenetic culinary efforts was twofold: that she would wear herself out and fall into bed in an exhausted state of slumber, and that she would have prepared enough muffins, pastries and breads to last throughout the long weekend.
“Hello?”
Jane turned toward the dining room. There was Clive in the doorway. “Oh!”
“I suspect that guests aren't allowed past this hallowed door—”
“No, you're fine.” She waved him in.
He smiled. “Thank you.” Then he entered, carefully taking in the whole room as he slowly walked around, nodding his head in approval. “Very, very nice.”
“Thank you. I like it.” She continued washing the muffin tin in the sink.
“Do you always bake late into the night?”
“Not always.” She considered confessing to him that she was on pins and needles about Justin's visit tomorrow, but then decided she didn't know Clive well enough to disclose such personal information.
“Mind if I sit down?”
“Go right ahead. Make yourself at home. There's still some decaf over there. It's not the freshest, but—”
“Sounds great.” He was up again. “I'll just help myself.”
She slipped a cookie sheet into the hot soapy water. “Help yourself to a snack if you like.”
“Really?” He looked over to a cooling rack. “Are these oatmeal cookies?”
“Yep. Still warm.”
“Groovy.”
She laughed. “Now there's a word you don't hear every day.”
He sniffed the cookie, then sighed and took a bite, slowly chewing with the sort of expression one might have while sampling a glass of fine wine, trying to discern the bouquet. “Walnuts?”
“Yes.” She watched him with amusement.
“Just a touch of cinnamon?”
“Yes.”
“Hint of nutmeg?”
“Yes.”
“Delicious.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you.”
She chuckled. “So, what have you and Belle been up to this evening?”
“Bingo.”
She laughed out loud. “Of course, I totally forgot it was bingo night. Did you win anything?”
“No, but I met a lot of unique people and made some interesting observations.” He sat back down at the table. “I almost forgot how charming small-town life can be.”
“Have you ever lived in a small town?”
“Not really, but my grandparents did—it was a little one-horse town in Michigan. We'd visit them for holidays and summer vacations. Lots of good memories there. Things I need to be reminded of from time to time.” He took another bite, and Jane checked on the breads still in the oven, then returned to washing baking pans.
“So is that what brought you to Acorn Hill?” She glanced over her shoulder. “The need to reconnect with a small town?”
“That and the need for a break from the city. Also, I've been collecting ideas for a book I'm working on. I hoped to use some of my time here to organize them.”
“You're writing a book?”
He snickered. “Isn't everyone?”
“I suppose, but you have an advantage because you're already a writer, a published one at that. What sort of book are you writing?”
He frowned. “I'm not really sure. It keeps changing.”
“Oh.”
“I don't usually talk about my book. It's not something I really want people to know about.”
She set the cookie sheet to dry, wiped her hands, then poured herself a half cup of decaf and sat down across from him and smiled. “Well, if it's a secret, it's safe with me.”
“Thanks. It's probably more about pride than privacy. I wouldn't want everyone to think I was writing a book and then never have one materialize. That's a little embarrassing.”
“I understand.”
“Speaking of embarrassing, I'm sure you've heard about Belle's marital plans?”
“It's about all I've heard since Belle showed up at the inn.” She looked closely at him. “Don't tell me that you're the man?”
He laughed so loudly that she had to shush him. Then he solemnly shook his head. “Not on your life.”
“I didn't think so, but you can never tell.”
“She's a sweet gal,” he said, “but a little too talkative and cheerful for my taste.”
“You go for the silent, grumpy type?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners and he chuckled. “No.
I like a woman with some depth to her. A woman who is comfortable with the world and with herself. A woman who's interested and interesting. Is that too much to hope for?”
“Those are the sorts of things I would look for”—she glanced away—“if I were looking.”
He nodded. “So, are you involved with the flower man?”
“The flower man?” She suppressed laughter. “You mean Craig?”
“Belle seemed to think you were more than just friends.”
“Craig and I are simply friends. Good friends.”
“Oh.”
The oven timer dinged, and Jane got up to check on the bread, carefully removing it and setting it on racks to cool. “Well, that's the last of my baking tonight,” she said as she turned off the oven. She glanced at the clock and untied her apron. “Wow, it's really getting late.”
“Time to call it a night?”
“I think so.”
“Mind if I peruse the library?”
“Of course not. Feel free to go in there anytime.”
“Just don't take the books home?”
She smiled. “That's right. No book snatching allowed.”
“Do you have plans tomorrow?”
“No, not really.” She tried to pretend that Justin wasn't actually coming. Maybe he wasn't.
“Would you care to spend some time with me?”
She studied his expression and sensed he was uneasy. “Sure,” she said. “Did you have anything in mind?”
“I hoped you might have some ideas, since this is your neighborhood. What would you normally do on a sunny Friday in May?”
“Let's see… I might go to the nursery and look at plants.”
“That sounds good. Maybe I could pick up some things to take back to the city with me. Is there a place to get pots?”
“Yes,” she said. “There's a great shop in Potterston and—”
“Okay!” He grinned. “It sounds like we're off to a good start.”
“After breakfast then?”
“It's a date.” He nodded as he backed out of the kitchen. “Now, I'll get out of your hair.”
She smiled, and they exchanged good-nights. Jane put a few more things away in the kitchen before she turned out the lights. As she went upstairs to her room, she wondered if it was selfish to go with Clive tomorrow. Was she simply attempting to escape? Maybe she should cancel the plans with Clive in the morning, but she would only be gone for a few hours. And perhaps Justin wouldn't even arrive until later in the day. He hadn't bothered updating them on his arrival. Besides, she thought as she brushed her hair, she hadn't invited Justin. He wasn't her guest. He had simply notified her that he was coming. Certainly, he didn't expect her to rearrange her life for his sake. For all he knew, she could be in the midst of a serious relationship by now. She could have remarried.
She was so exhausted by the time she got into bed that even these concerns were not sufficient to keep her awake. Before she fell asleep, she placed all her worries in God's hands. As her father used to tell her, “Don't worry about tomorrow. Trust God. Tomorrow will take care of itself.”
Jane felt surprisingly refreshed when she woke in the morning. She showered and dressed quickly, then went downstairs to prepare breakfast. She whistled to herself as she made coffee.
“Morning, Jane,” said Alice as she came into the kitchen. “You sound happy today. Are you ready to see Justin?”
“Honestly?”
Alice smiled and nodded.
“I'm not ready.” Jane took the teakettle to the sink to fill with water. “In fact, I want your opinion on something.”
“What?” Alice was getting the teapot ready.
Then Jane told her about Clive's invitation to do something with him this morning. “We won't be long. We'll probably just go check out Craig's nursery and get some planting pots. Clive wants to try some terrace gardening back in the city.”
“That's a lovely idea.”
“The terrace garden? Or doing something with him?”
“Both.”
“So, you think it's okay for me to go with him today?”
“I don't see why not.”
“I mean because of Justin.”
“Jane, you aren't married to Justin. And, as you said, you don't know when he'll get here. It could be in the afternoon or evening or he might be delayed and not arrive until tomorrow. A getaway for a few hours in the morning… why, I think it would do you good. It might even keep you from fretting about Justin's visit.”
Jane hugged her sister. “Thank you, Alice. I knew you'd have sound advice.”
“What sort of advice?” asked Louise as she joined them and poured herself a cup of coffee. Jane brought her up to speed, and Louise nodded. “Yes, I agree with Alice. Go out and try not to think about Justin. I know that it's been gnawing at you, Jane.”
“Has it been that obvious?”
“Indeed, it has.”
“And if you'd like to leave right after breakfast,” offered Alice, “I'd be happy to clean up.”
“And I will assist,” added Louise.
Soon after breakfast, Jane found herself riding through the Pennsylvania countryside with Clive Fagler. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and it seemed that every green and growing thing had sprung to life.
“I like your SUV,” she said. “Lots of room for carrying plants and things.”
“I've been feeling guilty for not scaling down. But this actually gets fairly good gas mileage, and it's comfortable. I don't drive to work, so I figure I'm only using it on the open road where I get the best mileage.”
“How do you get to work?”
“Well, sometimes I work at home. And sometimes I ride my bike or take public transit. Driving in the city is a pain, but being completely without a vehicle is a little scary. Sometimes I just need to get behind the wheel and get out of town.”
“I can understand that.” She told him where to turn.
“This is nice out here,” he said as he slowed down on the graveled road that led up to the greenhouses.
“You're going to like Craig's nursery,” she said as he parked. “He specializes in native plants, and his herbs are spectacular.”
“Uh-oh. That sign says he's closed, Jane.”
“Oh, don't mind that. Craig and I have an understanding.” She opened the door. “I help him out here sometimes, and he lets me come out and get flowers for the inn and my garden. Sometimes I pay him and sometimes we do an exchange.”
“Ah, the small-town life.”
She nodded as they walked toward the first greenhouse. “I guess I take it for granted, which is funny considering that I lived in San Francisco all those years and actually thought I was a city girl.”
“You're not?”
She shook her head as she paused by the open door to inhale the aroma of damp soil and plants. “Isn't that heavenly?”
“What?”
“The smell.”
He took a sniff, then nodded, but she wasn't convinced he liked it as much as she did. “So, how did you find out you weren't a city girl?” he asked as she led him through the greenhouse.
She showed him various plants of interest and told him about her training as a chef and her city life and subsequent marriage, followed by divorce, and then, deciding that she might as well get it into the open, she told him about Justin's coming to Acorn Hill.
“Today?” he said incredulously.
“Yes.”
“Do you need to get back to the inn soon?”
“No. I'm not sure what time he's arriving. My sisters thought a break from the inn might do me good.”
After about an hour, they had found a nice selection of plants that Jane felt would do well in Clive's terrace garden. “Let's just gather them together over here,” she suggested as she began clustering the plants together near a wooden bench. “Then I'll let Craig know that you want these, and he can tally up the cost.”
“I can imagine the garden already,” said Clive as he
stood back and admired the collection of plants.
“Now, we'll go find some interesting pots and get some potting soil and fertilizer, and by the time you head back to the city, you'll be set.”
Clive seemed genuinely pleased as they went back to his vehicle. “Now, you're sure you don't need to get back to the inn, Jane?”
She firmly shook her head. “No. I don't even want to think about it right now. I'm having fun.”
“Well, good. So am I.”
On they went, finding pots and even stopping at a flea market just outside of Potterston, where Jane bought a teapot with yellow rosebuds for Alice and discovered a pair of old Adirondack-style chairs with several layers of peeling paint. “I don't know if you have room for something like this on your terrace, Clive, but I think they'd be lovely.” He knelt down to examine them. “I'm not much of a handyman. How would I remove the paint?”
“I actually think the paint layers are charming. There's a technique I can show you that will smooth out the surface, and then you apply a wax finish that makes it more comfortable for sitting.”
“I like the sound of that.”
She pointed to a small table behind a bookshelf. “Hey, that looks like it might go with the chairs.”
He pulled it out and arranged the items together. “So, how do I go about buying these things?” He lowered his voice. “I noticed how you dickered with that last vendor for the teapot, but this is all new to me.”
She grinned. “Want me to handle it for you?”
He nodded gratefully, and she stepped in and made an offer for all three items. She and the man in the booth went back and forth a couple of times, but by the time Clive paid him, they were all happy.
“It's a good thing you have your SUV,” she said after a couple of workers lugged the chairs back to the parking lot for them. “We can just move the pots around until everything fits.”
“I think I have just enough room left for the plants.” He closed the hatch.
“For your luggage too?”
“Guess I'll have to put that in the passenger seat.” He checked his watch. “Do you have time for lunch? I'd like to treat you to show my appreciation for all the help you're giving me with my garden project.”
“Absolutely.” She directed him to a nearby restaurant with a patio, where they sat outside in the sunshine and enjoyed a leisurely lunch.
Memories from Acorn Hill Page 37