“That's Justin,” she said quietly to Clive. “Will you excuse me while I attempt to catch him?”
“Of course.”
Jane tried to press past members of the congregation as they happily greeted one another, clogging the aisle and blocking her way. It seemed to take forever before she finally made her way out the door. She stood for a moment, using a church bulletin to shield her eyes from the sun as she searched the church grounds, but Justin was nowhere to be seen.
“Everything okay?” asked Kenneth. He was getting into position to greet church members as they exited from the chapel.
“Justin was in church this morning,” she told him quietly. She was still looking to the left and the right as if she expected Justin to hop out from behind the bushes at any moment.
“Good for him,” said Kenneth. “I hope he enjoyed the sermon.”
“Yes, so do I. But he seems to have disappeared. I don't see him anywhere.”
“He certainly is an evasive person.”
“Yes. You're probably beginning to think I've imagined he was in town.”
Kenneth laughed. “I rather doubt that. Besides, didn't I see him yesterday? The red Fiat Spider?”
“Yes, that's right. Anyway, thanks for a wonderful sermon today.” She shook his hand and stepped aside as she realized that others were waiting behind her now. She slowly walked out into the churchyard, looking out toward the street and thinking that she might still spot Justin or his sporty red car, but he had vanished.
“No luck?” asked Clive as he joined her.
“No. He must've been in a huge hurry to get away.”
“I don't think he liked seeing you with me, Jane.”
She nodded. “Yes, that crossed my mind.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Oh, it's not your fault, Clive. There's not much we can do if he wants to jump to conclusions. He's the one who took off running.”
“Well, I hope he hasn't left for good.”
Jane nodded. “And just when I'd forgiven him—again.”
“That was a good message,” said Clive as they began walking back toward the inn. “I don't normally attend church, and I certainly don't think of myself as a religious person, but I like your minister and he gives an excellent sermon.”
“I'll let him know you said that.”
“And something he said this morning has inspired me in regard to my book, Jane.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I don't want to talk about it right now. But I think I will spend some time working on it today. While it's still fresh in my mind.”
“Good for you.”
Once again, Jane found herself waiting for Justin. After church, she and her sisters ate lunch, then Jane tried to stay busy, puttering in the kitchen, checking e-mail, reading a book. By late afternoon, she was fed up. What sort of game was he playing anyway? And who said she had to play along?
Jane was back in the kitchen again, pouring herself a glass of iced tea and thinking about calling Sylvia. She had missed seeing her friend at church this morning and hoped that nothing was wrong.
“Yoo-hoo?”
She knew it was Ethel at the back door, probably ready to lecture Jane again. She was tempted to make a run for it, but decided not to act like Justin. She would take the high road instead. “Hello, Auntie,” she said cheerfully as she opened the door. “Care for some iced tea?”
Ethel looked surprised. “Well, yes, dear, that sounds nice.”
Jane busied herself fixing another glass, even garnishing it with a sprig of mint. “Here you go, Auntie.”
“Thank you, Jane.” She took a sip and nodded in approval. “Now, Jane, what is going on with you and Justin? Belle told me that he's been here several times, but that you keep disappearing.”
Jane shrugged. “I'm here now, Auntie. And I was here yesterday. I've spotted Justin a couple of times, and he's the one who keeps disappearing.”
Ethel frowned. “That's odd.”
“I agree.”
“Belle thought Justin was very nice.”
Jane felt her curiosity growing. “And did she say what Justin thought of her?”
“Belle told me they had an enjoyable time together, but she knew that he was here to see you.” She set down her glass with a loud clunk. “The question is why, Jane. Why has he come? And why is he acting so mysteriously? What is going on?”
“I don't know, Auntie. The truth is I'm in the dark.”
“Well, I'd like to have a chat with that young man.”
Jane grinned. “If you can catch him, I'd say go for it.” She set her empty glass in the sink. “But I'm getting tired of sitting around waiting for him to show up. He hasn't even called.”
“Strange.”
“Very.”
“My guess is that he's here to get you back, Jane. He is feeling nervous and insecure, and you keep flitting about and—”
“Speaking of flitting about, I think I'll take a walk.”
“Where are your sisters?”
Jane nodded her head in the direction of comforting tones of classical piano music coming from the open door of the parlor. “Louise, as you can hear, is playing, and Alice is at the Humberts' helping Vera with something or other.”
“How about Belle? Is she here?”
“I don't know, Auntie. Why don't you look around?”
“Don't mind if I do.”
“Would you tell Louise that I'm stepping out for a bit?” Jane reached for her purse. “I just need some fresh air.”
“Certainly, dear. I will let her know. I do hope you and Justin can sit down and discuss this thing like civilized adults.”
Jane suppressed the urge to scream as she simply nodded and made a quick exit. It was a relief to be away from the inn. Jane walked quickly toward town. She wasn't entirely sure where she was going, but it felt good to go. Perhaps she would pop in on Sylvia's Buttons to see if Sylvia was in the shop, as she sometimes was on Sundays, working on a personal project or catching up on paperwork. Maybe she could entice Sylvia to join her on her walk.
But Sylvia wasn't there. “She went to an estate sale in Lancaster early this morning,” said Justine. “She just learned about it. She asked me to do inventory for her while the shop is closed.”
“Would you tell Sylvia I stopped by?” asked Jane.
“Of course. Have a good day now,” said Justine.
Jane went back outside.
“Jane?” called a female voice. Jane turned to see Belle, still dressed in her pink suit, which she'd worn to church. She was clicking toward Jane on her spike heels and waving with enthusiasm. “Oh, you are just the person I need.”
“I am?” Jane waited for Belle.
“Yes. Are you busy right now?”
“Not particularly.”
“Well, you have such a good eye for things like houses and gardens and kitchens and whatnot, and I just ran into Richard Watson, you know the real-estate agent, and he told me that another buyer is interested in that same little cottage that I've had my eye on. He told me that if I was serious, I should make an offer as soon as possible.” Belle held up her hands in a helpless gesture. “And I just don't know what to do. It's a big decision, Jane. Would you be willing to walk through the house with me? I went through it once with Ethel, but I can't even remember if it had a bathtub or not. Imagine buying a house and not knowing something like that. I am a bubble-bath girl and I would simply perish without a bathtub.”
Jane suppressed the urge to laugh. It was clear that Belle was perfectly serious. “I'd be happy to look at it with you.”
Belle reached over and grabbed Jane's hand. “Oh, thank you, thank you. And, please, forgive me for being a bit upset with you the other day. I know you aren't trying to hog all the men on purpose, Jane. They just like you.”
Jane laughed. “Perhaps it seems that way to you.”
“Well, come along. Let's go to Richard's office and see if he's still there.”
Soon, Jane and Bell
e were carefully going through the McCullough house, which was quite nice. And it did have a bathtub, an old-fashioned claw-foot that Belle simply adored. Jane tried to point out things that might require work, as well as things that added value to the house. “All in all,” said Jane, “I think this is a sweet little bungalow, and if I were looking for a home to invest in, I would consider it myself.”
“Oh, thank you, Jane,” gushed Belle. “I do like it.”
“Still…” Jane studied Belle's bright eyes. “Do you really think it's wise to buy a house here in Acorn Hill? I mean you haven't met Mr. Right yet and—”
“I know you think I'm crazy, Jane. Almost everyone in town does too. But it's like you said that time. It's my dream and I have to follow it.”
“But buying a house, Belle?”
“You said yourself it was a good investment, Jane.”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts.” Belle firmly nodded. “I am going to make my offer.”
“You're sure that's a good idea?”
“Yes. I'm going to speak to Richard about it right now. Do you want to come too?”
“I should probably get back to the inn.”
“Have you talked to Justin yet?” asked Belle.
Jane shook her head.
Belle reached over and put a hand on Jane's arm. “I just do not understand you, Jane Howard. If ever there was a single woman who could get a man to marry her, I do believe it is you. And yet you seem to have absolutely no interest in doing so. What's up with that?”
Jane laughed. “I have no idea.”
“Yes,” said Belle as she locked the front door and slipped the house key into her purse. “I do believe that's a fact. And it's all I can do not to be pea green with envy.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jane thought about what Belle had said as she walked back toward the inn. Of course, Belle's perspective had to be somewhat skewed by her own wedding hopes, but the truth was, Jane had no interest in being married right now. Not to anyone. It was a huge relief to admit this to herself, so much so that when she saw Justin's car parked in front of the inn, she was ready to express these feelings to him as well.
She walked up the porch steps and was about to enter the house when she heard the familiar squeak of the porch swing. She turned, and sitting there in the shadows was her ex-husband.
“Justin!” she exclaimed. “You startled me.”
“Sorry about that.” Justin slowly stood. “But we seem to be passing like two ships in the night.”
“Or else you've been trying to avoid me.”
“I thought you were trying to avoid me, Jane.” He stepped closer, looking carefully at her. “You're looking well.”
“You too.”
“Do you have time to talk?”
Jane looked around the porch, wondering how private this would actually be, especially if guests decided to come out to enjoy some fresh air. “Here?”
“Maybe not.” He pointed toward his car. “Want to take a ride?”
Just then, Jane noticed Louise and Ethel peeking out the front window. She wiggled her fingers in a little wave, and both women stepped back simultaneously. “Yes,” she told him. “Too many observers here.”
“They all seem quite curious,” he said as they walked to his car. “Your aunt could probably get a job with the CIA.”
Jane chuckled. “She can be inquisitive.”
“I'll say.”
“Nice car, Justin.”
He opened the passenger door, smiling proudly as he helped her in. “Thanks. I've always wanted one of these. Just before Christmas last year, a customer at the restaurant mentioned he was selling his, and I thought, why not?”
She tried to focus on the attractive interior as he walked around to the other side. She forced herself to take in a slow, deep breath to settle her nerves. She could do this. She could.
“Want me to put the top down?” he offered when he was in the car.
“It's your call.”
He shrugged, then started the engine, which purred. “Maybe later.” As he drove through town, neither of them said a word, and the tension between them was palpable.
“So how have you been, Justin?” asked Jane, pretending that she was speaking to an old friend and not the man who had promised to stay with her until death would part them. “Are you at the same restaurant?”
“Yes.” He told her about some mutual restaurant friends, which ones were still in San Francisco and which ones had moved on. “This is pretty countryside,” he said. “I can see why you like it here, Jane.”
“Yes.” She gazed absently out the window, wondering why this had to be so difficult. “I saw you in church this morning, Justin,” she began cautiously. “I tried to catch up with you, but you disappeared.”
“Yes… I don't know what came over me. Sorry about that.”
“It's okay. Did you enjoy the sermon?”
“Forgiveness?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Do you mind if I pull over up there?”
“Not at all.”
After stopping the car, he got out and put down the top.
“The fresh air is nice,” she told him when he got back in.
He turned in the driver's seat, facing her. “Jane, I need to talk to you.”
She smiled. “Here I am.”
“Yes.” He took in a deep breath. “This isn't easy.”
She wanted to appear calm, but on the inside, she was in turmoil. She wished that whatever it was, he would get it over with.
“The reason I came to see you, Jane, is to tell you something.”
She nodded. “Yes?”
“I know you've moved on with your life, Jane.”
“Yes, I have.”
“And you might even be involved seriously with someone by now. I've noticed you seem to have some men in your life.”
“I wouldn't say I was serious about anyone, Justin. I don't think I'm ready for anything like that.”
“Right.”
“And just for the record, Justin…” She figured she might as well get this out into the open. “I have forgiven you for, well, everything. I thought I took care of forgiving you some time ago, but I was touched by today's sermon, and I realized that I was still carrying some baggage. So, if it's any comfort, you should know that I have forgiven you. And I hope that you've forgiven me.”
“You?” He looked confused. “Why would I need to forgive you, Jane?”
“Oh, it takes two to mess things up. I knew how competitive you were about cooking, and still I didn't step back. I suppose I might have put my career second to yours. Our failed marriage was partially my fault too.”
Now he firmly shook his head. “No, Jane. And that is what I came to tell you.”
“What do you mean?” She studied his face, trying to understand what he was up to. Was this a trick? A way to get her to come back to him?
“I mean that I came to ask your forgiveness. It was my fault the marriage failed.”
“But why bring this up now?”
“Because I've been suffering from a guilty conscience, and it's beginning to affect my health.”
“Are you ill?”
He waved his hand. “Not seriously. Just an ulcer. Still, I knew I needed to make things right between us. I've been going to a counselor, and he suggested that I speak to you.”
Jane simply nodded.
“Anyway, I know I made you believe that you were responsible for our marriage falling apart. I told you that you were competitive and that you made my life miserable. I said all sorts of horrible things to you, Jane. But the truth is that I have always been a jealous person. I never could stand anyone besting me. When we married, I thought that I would be the one to shine and that you would be the ‘good cook' while I'd be the ‘well-known chef.' Instead, things turned out just the opposite. You got rave reviews, and the Blue Fish was booked weeks in advance, while I was just plugging along as I always had. I couldn't stand
it. I did some terrible things.…”
“You mean claiming my recipes were yours?”
He took in a quick breath. “Not just that. I hinted to reviewers that you got all your ideas from other people. That you couldn't create, that you could only present the work of others as your own.”
Jane felt indignant. “I knew that you were trying to undermine me, but I never knew that you went so far.”
He nodded with a guilty expression. “After I did it, I felt terrible. But the funny thing was the rumors never hurt you. I suspect no one believed me. The reviewers still raved about you, and the customers still called weeks in advance for reservations. I guess that made me even more determined to end our marriage. I just couldn't stand your success. Recently, I've thought a lot about what I did, the harm I caused you, and, well, I knew I needed to clear the air. For both our sakes.”
So many emotions were rushing through her. She wasn't sure how to react.
“Say something,” said Justin.
“I'm stunned.”
“I'm sorry, Jane. I know I hurt you.”
She sighed. “Yes, you did.” She slowly shook her head as she tried to make sense of this. “And here I thought I had completely forgiven you.”
“Now you're not so sure? Are you taking it back?”
“No, I just need to forgive you all over again.”
“Can you?”
She hesitated, then said, “I don't think I can afford not to forgive you, Justin. Not according to what Kenneth said in church, or what the Bible says.” She studied his sad face and felt a trace of sympathy for him. “You really have an ulcer?”
He nodded. “And high blood pressure too.”
“Justin?”
“Yes?”
“I do forgive you. Okay?”
He brightened. “Okay.”
“But I do think we're over. Don't you?”
His brow creased, and he nodded. “The fact is, I'm involved with someone else.”
“Really?” Jane felt hopeful… and curious… and a teeny, tiny bit jealous.
“Her name is Lenore. She's a little older than me. She teaches accounting at a community college.”
“Well, you won't have any professional jealousy between you then,” said Jane with a smile.
Memories from Acorn Hill Page 40