by Scott, Lisa
“Hopefully he has condoms,” she shouted to the ceiling.
Then she remembered the scars marking his back and cried some more. She knew where Brad was coming from—and where he didn’t want to go. She sat up and pressed her hands against her eyes and thought she might be sick. She took a few deep breaths. She stripped off her clothes, put on her pajamas, and climbed back into bed.
When Brad came home a few hours later and stopped by her open door, she pretended to be asleep. And pretended her heart wasn’t splintering to shards, like a great big vase that could never be put back together again.
SHE SPENT the next two weeks avoiding Brad as best she could, scooping up bridal magazines and recipe ideas, hoping to distract herself with Becca’s wedding. Brad had been out with Lily a few times, but she hadn’t asked for details. No point perfecting the art of self-torture. When he answered his cell and lowered his voice, she tried not to eavesdrop. She chatted incessantly about work and nothing else. She even found an antique apple corer at one of the antique stores in town and brought it in to work Monday morning like nothing had changed at all.
“Got a present for you,” she said, holding it behind her back.
He set down the boxed lunches he was prepping and wiped his hands on his apron. “A present? It’s not my birthday. What’s the occasion?”
She shrugged. “No occasion. Just be glad you have a great best friend who found you this.” She held out the apple corer.
Huge dimples gouged his cheeks. “Jeanne, that’s awesome! Where did you get it?”
“One of the antique shops on the way to Whitesville.” She handed it to him, and their fingers brushed. She jerked her hand away.
He examined it and set it on the counter. “Thanks. Really.”
Normally when she gave him a little gift like that, she’d get a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Not today. They stood there with a wall of silence between them.
“I’ll set it out in the display case later. Unless you’d like to try it on one of your pies.”
Back to business.
“Speaking of which, Becca wants some pies for the dessert table. She’s got someone to do the wedding cake. We’re just doing a dessert spread.”
Brad nodded, turning back to the lunches he’d be dropping off at businesses around town. Not everyone had time to pop in for lunch at the Jelly Jar. “Does she know yet how many people she’s going to invite?”
“A hundred, I think. I was hoping we could cut them a break on the price.”
“Of course. We can just charge them cost.”
Jeanne pulled her pie ingredients out of the cupboard. “Can we do that? Financially? Are the books in better shape?”
He took a deep breath and crossed his arms. “Actually, yes. Two months of funneling my rent money has helped out a bit, and our standing orders have increased. In fact, I should be able to move out of your place in two weeks or so. Good news, right?”
It hit her like a punch to the gut. He was moving out. Moving on, for real. “Right. Yes, good. Great. I’m sure that’s awkward with you and Lily.”
She pretended her piecrust needed close inspection, because she did not want to look at him. Bland, beige dough was much safer than his handsome face, telling her goodbye.
Goodbye. Her stomach rolled. She dashed to the bathroom and threw up. She rinsed her mouth out and splashed cool water on her face, but she still felt queasy. She looked at herself in the mirror and chastised herself for being so dramatic. People got their hearts broken every day.
“Get over it,” she whispered to herself.
She walked back into the kitchen and thought she might hurl again. Lily was there, kissing Brad. Her bright red nails were wrapped around the back of his head, slowly working their way through his dark wavy hair as their mouths moved together.
Jeanne clambered back to her spot at the counter, noisily pushing around pots and bowls she wasn’t even using until Brad and Lily broke their embrace.
Lily came up for air. “Oh, hi, Jeanne. Hope you don’t mind me stopping by.” She shrugged and giggled. “I miss Brad. You’re so lucky that you get to spend so much time with him.”
Jeanne punched the ball of dough she was kneading. “No problem.”
Lily hopped up on the counter, crossed her ankles, and started swinging her legs. “Hey, can I buy one of your pies for my grandma? She hasn’t been able to get down to the diner for a while, and she loves your cherry pie. I wish I was a good cook like you.”
Jeanne dumped two cups of flour into her mixing bowl. “Sorry, these are all accounted for.”
“Come on, Jeanne. You can make an extra one for her,” Brad said. “You whip those out like nobody’s business.”
Jeanne brushed stray hair off her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’m behind schedule here.”
Brad shrugged. “Mine aren’t as good as Jeanne’s, but if you’ve got an hour or so, I can make one for you before I deliver these lunches.”
She walked her fingers up his chest and kissed him. “You’re the best.”
He picked her up off the counter and swung her around, down to the ground. “Wait until you taste it before you commit to that.” He winked at her.
Lily planted her perfect butt on a stool next to Brad. “Show me how to make it.”
And there went Jeanne’s stomach again. When had she turned into this wimpy, woozy, woman? She hustled back to the bathroom and threw up again. He might as well be making love to Lily on the counter, cooking with her like that. Cooking!
God, he really likes her.
Jeanne washed up and returned to the kitchen to finish the pie and pop it in the oven. There was no ignoring the giggles and whispers from across the kitchen. She tried to calm her stomach and her nerves while she cleaned up her workstation.
Lily was holding the rolling pin, with Brad straddling her from behind, his hands over hers, rolling out the dough.
Jeanne’s stomach tumbled again. She cleared her throat. “Can you take the pie out when it’s done? I’m heading home.” She placed her hand on her stomach. “I think I must have eaten something bad. I’m not feeling well.”
Brad turned around, pulling away from Lily. “Really? Sorry to hear it. Go home, take care of yourself. We’ll handle the pies. We’ll deliver them, too. No problem, kiddo.”
Kiddo. Damn, she hated that word. “Thanks. See you later.”
MUCH LATER, as it turned out. Brad didn’t get home until eleven o’clock. Not that she’d been keeping track of the clock or anything while she tried to read a book. And pick up an old knitting project. And clean the tub before giving up and lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.
He was lingering in her doorway, and she sat up. “Have a good day with Lily?”
“Yeah, I did actually.” He walked in and handed her a glass. “Ginger ale. You feeling any better?”
His big tall figure was silhouetted in her room. She wanted him. He was a rich piece of cheesecake, dripping with caramel. And she was on a diet. A Brad diet.
“I’m feeling a little better, I guess. Thanks.” She took the glass from him, and her chest seized up as their fingers brushed.
“Want some crackers? Toast?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. Thanks.” She wanted to reach out and squeeze his hand. She wanted him to climb in bed and hold her. She wanted this wretched feeling to go away.
He stood there for a moment like he was going to say something else. “Well, good night, Jeanne.”
“Good night.” But it wasn’t good at all.
AFTER WORK the next day, Brad drove to Lily’s, wishing for the rush he felt around Jeanne. Maybe that would grow with time, but if he didn’t feel it now, he doubted it would suddenly show up like a crop of corn taking root after a good rain. He sucked in a deep breath and rang Lily’s bell.
She opened the door, beaming. “Let’s go out to dinner tonight,” she said, biting her lip and shyly glancing down. “And then, why don’t you stay the n
ight?” She looked up and arched an eyebrow.
He laughed. “Not with your grandmother here.” He shook his head. “No way.”
“She can’t even hear.”
He shook his head. “No way.”
“How about at your place?”
“Jeanne’s there. Can’t do it. It just doesn’t seem right.”
She crossed her arms and pouted. He wondered if she thought she’d get her way doing that, the way it pushed her chest up and out even more than usual.
Lily had been frustrated things weren’t moving along physically as quickly as she’d like. She was more than ready to have him in her bed. But he just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t fair to Lily. If he was going to take things that far, he had to do it because he loved her, not because he was trying to chase away feelings of someone else. But he certainly couldn’t explain that to her.
“Let’s grab dinner. I’m starving.”
“I’m starving, too. But not for dinner.” She looped her arms around him and kissed him. “You know, don’t you think it’s weird living with Jeanne and dating me? Don’t you think maybe it’s time to move somewhere else?”
He stepped into the house and closed the door behind him. “I explained to you I was living there to use the rent money for the business.”
It was getting harder by the day, he had to admit. Maybe he could bunk at his brother’s until his renter found his own place. It certainly would send a message to Jeanne. Maybe that’s what he needed to do.
“I’ll look into it.”
Lily beamed at him, and he wondered what message moving out would send to her. Probably a message he didn’t want to send.
Chapter 15
“I THOUGHT YOU said two-hundred people for the anniversary party. There’s at least two-fifty out there,” Jeanne told Brad when she burst into the kitchen after refilling the stuffed Portobello mushrooms for the third time.
“I know.” Brad’s face was sweaty and flushed. “I’m trying to think what we can make at the last minute with what we’ve got on hand. We don’t have enough shrimp kabobs for two-fifty.”
Jeanne snapped her fingers. “We do if we reduce the number of shrimps per skewer from five to four and add fresh pineapple. I’ll call Kate and Tonya to see if they can pitch in with the extra crowd.”
“I’ll call Tommy and Lily.”
“Great. Now let’s break into the food we’ve got prepped for the open house tomorrow. Take these dip trays out to tide everyone over.”
“Yeah, but we’re going to have to replace that.”
“Looks like we’ll be working all night.” Jeanne smiled wide. “We can do this.”
“Glad one of us can handle the unexpected stuff. You can always go with the flow.”
“Yeah, but you steer us in the right direction. We do well together.”
Within fifteen minutes, Tonya, Kate, Tommy, and Lily were in the kitchen, reconfiguring the kabobs and passing out more hors d’oeuvres meant for the next day.
“So Tommy, you and Tonya used to date?” Lily asked.
Tonya nodded. “And Kate.”
“All at once?” Lily asked.
“No!” all three of them said in unison.
“That was LeRoy Jenkins we all dated at the same time,” Kate said.
“Although we didn’t know it then,” Tonya explained.
Tommy rolled his eyes. “Do you girls ever get around to doing hair down at the salon with all that gossiping?”
Lily giggled. “What’d you do, Tommy, pull her over for being cute?”
“He pulled me over for speeding.” Tonya said.
“You’ve met a few women that way,” Kate teased.
Tommy grumbled and waved a dismissive hand at them all.
Lily sliced the top off a pineapple. “What about you, Jeanne? Did you ever go out with Tommy?”
Jeanne tried to swallow the colossal lump in her throat. “No, we didn’t.”
Lily stood there holding a giant knife. “Why not?”
Kate and Tonya looked at each other, and Jeanne and Brad looked at the floor.
“Wouldn’t want to upset—” Tommy stopped himself. “Her aunt. Her aunt was a feisty old one, so I steered clear of the Clark girls.”
Lily shrugged. “So, why don’t you two go out now? You could double date with me and Brad.”
Jeanne grabbed a tray of sliced bread. “I’m going to go pass this out.” She pushed her way through the swinging kitchen doors while Brad shouted, “You forgot the dipping oil!”
She held the tray while walking through the room, not registering who was saying hello and snatching a piece of bread. The press of people panicked her a bit.
Brad and Lily were soon at her side, holding trays of herbed dipping oil for the bread, and they had a swarm of seniors and dignitaries around them jockeying to get closer to the food.
“We sure are hungry,” Marge said. “You got any more of those mushroom thingies?”
“No, but we’ve got more stuff coming out real soon,” Brad said.
“Good. Maybe you and your girlfriend should get back in the kitchen and work on that instead of copping out and filling us up with bread.”
“Oh, we’ll be right out with more food, I promise,” Lily said.
Marge waved her away. “I’m talking about these two. You’re dating, right?”
Jeanne almost dropped the tray. “No, no. We’re just business partners.” She nodded so hard, a few strands of hair slipped out of her up-do, tickling her cheeks.
Marge narrowed one eye at her. “It may have been a few years since anyone’s discovered if I wear a bikini or a thong, but I know chemistry when I see it.” She pointed her finger back and forth between Brad and Jeanne. “And I see it. Now hurry up with that food.” She gave them a good harrumph and marched away.
Jeanne’s nervous laugh came out—the one that sounded like a car engine trying to turn over. “The hunger must be making her loopy.” She handed the tray of bread to Brad. “Here. You and your girlfriend pass this out. I’m going to check on the shrimp.”
Soon enough, coffee and dessert were served, the seniors were satisfied, and they’d passed out dozens of business cards. As the crowds filed out, Jeanne slumped against the counter.
“Now I guess we better get started replacing the food for the open house tomorrow.”
Brad came up behind her and started rubbing her shoulders. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, getting the extra mileage out of the rental stuff.”
“No, it is a good idea. You’ve always got good ideas like that. You’re so organized. You always think ahead.” Jeanne caught Kate and Tonya rolling their eyes, and when Lily walked through the doors, Brad quickly quit the massage.
“You ready to leave?” Lily asked.
Brad laughed. “Not hardly. We’ve got to remake all our food for the open house tomorrow.”
“I’ll help,” Lily said.
“No, we’ve got it covered,” Brad said.
Lily planted her hands on her hips and pouted. Somehow, she could get away with it without looking like a brat.
Jeanne set her hand on Brad’s shoulder. “Why don’t you two drive into Whitesville to one of the all-night grocery stores. We don’t have enough supplies.”
He frowned and sighed. “You’re right. But I just hate to leave you here alone.”
“We’ll help,” Kate said.
And her best friends were nice enough to cut onions and slice fruit and not mention Lily and Brad the entire time.
AFTER BRAD and Jeanne took two days off following the open house, he told her the good news. “You’re all set up with Mr. June this weekend.”
She thought about crushing the egg she was about to tap open on her bowl. “When are we going to end this fool plan? It’s not working.”
“It was your New Year’s resolution, so I get the whole year to try. And this time, I’m doing something different.”
She paused with the egg in her hand. “What?”
&nb
sp; “I put your profile up on an online dating site. This guy should be perfect.”
The egg missed his head by half an inch. The next one nailed his shoulder.
ROGER MEANIE—yes, that was his name and aptly so—had a smile like a weasel and a line like a fly fisherman. Brad had hit a new low with Mr. June.
Real nice after I set him up with Lily, she thought.
“What are you going to order?” Jeanne asked, studying the menu instead of his smug face. “The grouper sounds good.”
He scoffed. “I only order seafood when I’m within ten miles of the sea. How good could it be out here? I like to eat fresh, regional food.”
Jeanne gave him a great big smile. “Might ask if they have any fresh possum out back. That’s regional.”
He stared at her, and she forced a laugh. “It’s just a joke.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. Your profile said you have a refined sense of humor.”
“I think I’ll have to refine the profile.”
“But don’t change the feisty. You were right about that, and men should be warned.”
Jeanne wondered if he could hear the growl deep in her throat.
The waiter arrived to take their order.
“I’ll have the filet mignon,” Roger said. “I’m assuming it’s free range?”
“Huh? I don’t really know,” the waiter said.
Roger sighed. “Very well. And you, Jeanne?”
“Oh, I’m going for the grouper, and I don’t give a rat’s behind if it’s free range.”
Once they ordered, Roger pulled out his cell and checked his email messages. “My business has me working around the clock,” he explained.
“Doesn’t sound like you’d have time for a relationship,” Jeanne said.
“A good relationship doesn’t need a lot of time,” he said, without looking up.
And with that, Jeanne started counting ceiling tiles until her food arrived.
“Two-hundred ten,” she said, when the waiter dropped off her fish.
“Excuse me?” Roger said.
“Nothing.”
The grouper was great, but halfway through her meal, she set her hand on her tummy. “I’m not feeling well.” She dashed to the bathroom and threw up.