by Nancy Toback
“Psst, Jess.”
She blinked to the present and turned to see Frank leaning past the elderly couple sitting beside her. “Any room for me?”
Jess shook her head and shrugged.
“I’ll move down one,” the woman to her right chimed in cheerfully.
Great! “Thank you,” Jess said, pulling in her feet so Frank could squeeze past her. Her gaze went to the front, zeroing in on the back of Tom’s head and causing her stomach to dip.
Frank dropped into the seat and sighed. “I’m glad we had that talk last night.”
“Yes, me too.” Jess tore her gaze from Tom. “I don’t know if we should—” She cleared her throat. “Never mind.” So they were sitting together in church. If somebody wanted to make more of it—namely Tom—what could she do? Tell Frank to get away from her?
Frank tilted his head, brushing his hair against her ear. “I meant what I said last night. I’d like it if we could be friends.”
Jess nodded and licked her lips. “Sure we can—why not?” The stupid words tumbled out of her mouth with haste. She didn’t want to have to prove them.
“Good. How about a cup of coffee after service?”
No! “Um, let me think. . . .” Looking straight ahead, she caught a glimpse of Tom’s profile as he chatted with the usher standing beside him. If Tom turned, even slightly, he’d see her and Frank, and then what?
“Are you okay with that?” Frank said. “Or are you worried about what Tom would think?”
Turning to Frank, Jess frowned. If only he could read the confusion on her face, perhaps he’d let her off the hook. But he smiled, patiently awaiting her answer. Jess cleared her throat. “Why? Do you think Tom would be upset?”
Frank gave her one of his nonchalant shrugs. “He shouldn’t be. I don’t know exactly where you two stand anymore, but—”
“We don’t run each other’s lives.” Jess smiled to take the edge off her retort. “I didn’t mean it that way exactly. We’re still friends, of course.” She clutched her Bible tighter.
“Well, then, good. That’s a date.” Frank grinned.
As the music started, Jess was left with her mouth hanging open. She stood with the rest of the congregation. She couldn’t politely get out of their date now. Is that what Frank had called it? A date?
She gave him a sidelong glance. With his eyes closed, hands lifted, Frank appeared wholly into praising God. Just as she should be. And he definitely looked innocent of malice.
Jess closed her eyes and caught up with the lyrics. As she sang each line and note, the here and now drifted out of her mind. Sinking deeper into the presence of God, peace washed over her. Nothing bad would come of any of this. For now, nothing and no one had the power to rattle her world.
❧
Tom sat with his back rigid. Right now he would gladly exchange his pain for the anger he thought he’d feel at seeing Frank and Jess together again.
Struggling to keep his mind on the sermon, he gazed up at Pastor Rob.
“The Lord works out all things for the good to those who love Him.” The minister smiled. “We look at our circumstances and sometimes find that truth difficult to believe. But we know every word in the Good Book was written under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Tested and tried, every word is true.”
Father, forgive me. Tom shifted in his seat. If it’s Your will that Frank and Jess end up together—a tight knot lodged in his throat—then I trust You to work it out for the good.
Neither Frank nor Jess had noticed when he’d accidentally caught sight of them. After the service he would slip out of church by way of the side door. Make it easier on them—and himself.
And if time and distance didn’t heal his wounds, if he couldn’t forget Jess, he had the option of remaining single. But he had come to one conclusion. In his present state of mind, he couldn’t see Linda again. It wouldn’t be fair to drag her into the emotional fray.
Shuffling noises from the congregation filtered to his ears, waking him from his revelry. Tom stood, closed his eyes, and repeated the words to the closing prayer. A notion entered his mind, growing in intensity, compelling him to exit the church by the back doors.
His shoulders stiffened in rebellion. The side door would be the easy way out. Tom turned and grabbed his Bible off the seat. He lifted his gaze to the spot where he’d last seen them. No need to take an alternate route. Jess and Frank were already gone.
Thirteen
Tom tossed his jacket on the bed, whipped off his tie, and flung it onto the dresser. If he hadn’t seen Jess with his own eyes, getting into Frank’s car, he wouldn’t have believed it. But he had seen them.
A simple misunderstanding, he told himself. It had to be.
Drifting into the kitchen, Tom opened the refrigerator, grabbed the tray of cold cuts, and slammed it onto the counter. Jess had acted pretty casual, calling out his name in the parking lot, then giving him a happy wave before riding off into the sunset with Frank. Why spare his feelings at all?
Tom slapped a few slices of ham onto the rye bread. If he’d had a minute alone with Frank, he would’ve asked him outright where he planned to take this. But as it stood, his phone messages to Frank’s cell and home had gone unanswered.
Overnight, the guy had gone from never speaking more than ten words at one sitting with Jess to Mr. Congeniality. And Frank’s sudden interest occurred only since he hadn’t been seeing much of Jess. Either Frank saw an opening and used it to his advantage, or all of this was mere coincidence.
Tom bit into the sandwich, stopped chewing, and looked across the kitchen at the laptop on the table. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but he had to know if Jess had emailed him.
He put down his sandwich, sat at the table, and signed onto the Internet. She’d be doing him a big favor if she admitted she had feelings for Frank. At least he could face the brutal truth head on and deal with it.
His pulse kicked up when her E-mail appeared on the screen. “The Lord will work all of it out for the good.” He had to believe that. Barely breathing, he scanned her message quickly, then reread from the top.
“Well, what do you know?” Tom cupped his hand to his rigid neck. Frank wanted to be her friend. With all the females walking the face of the earth and Frank’s former disdain for Jess, he just happened to want to be her friend. And, of course, according to Jess, Frank’s hug was innocent.
Tom shook his head. Jess never could read men. She wanted his view? Okay, he’d give it to her.
Dear Jess,
I read your E-mail twice, and I’m of the opinion that this guy Frank shouldn’t be hitting on you if he’s any friend of Tom’s. I know what you said about its being all innocent, but I’m sure Frank is aware that you and Tom have hit the skids, so to speak, and so he’s trying to make his move.
Tom read what he’d written and groaned. No, he couldn’t manipulate her. If his heart was in the right place, he’d only offer his help. His honest opinion. He held down the delete button and started again.
Dear Jess,
I think you ought to give Tom a call, unless, of course, you have a romantic interest in Frank. Maybe you’ve got Tom figured all wrong. You stated that he might have come into your restaurant to apologize for acting crummy toward you the previous evening. Do you know what caused this change in him? Is this Tom’s modus operandi? Probably not, since you wouldn’t have stayed friends with such a clod for sixteen years.
What would Tom do if you phoned him? Hang up? What’s the worst that could happen? You should give him a chance at least to explain, unless you want to write off the friendship completely.
Have you ever considered that Tom might be in love with you? Why else would he have gotten so steaming mad when he caught you and Frank hugging it up after hours? In fact, that’s my conclusion. Tom is in love with you.
I don’t know if I’ve been much help, but I’m trying to be. Oddly enough, while I think I’m helping you, you’re helping me. Typing out my thoughts—as op
posed to letting them float freely in my mind—has definitely had a cathartic effect. Hope to hear from you soon.
Best regards,
TC
Tom pressed the REPLY button before he could change his mind, delete again, or add a rotten postscript about Frank.
He returned to the counter, looked at his sandwich, and tossed it in the trash. Frank knew how much he loved Jess. How could he have the heart to do this to him?
❧
Quick and painless, Jess mused, as she exited Frank’s car in front of her building. “Thanks for everything.”
“For nothing.” Frank winked. “I owe you for having read you all wrong.”
Standing at the car door, Jess smiled. “You’re a good guy, Frank.”
Gesturing with a thumbs-up, he laughed. “Just don’t let Tom hear you say that.”
Jess shook her head, closed the door, and waved. Frank had known Tom for a long time, but he didn’t know the real Tom. The Tom who’d never get upset if she called Frank a good guy.
Walking through the lobby, Jess felt her smile fading. She’d made a point of waving to Tom in the church parking lot, only to let him know she wasn’t trying to hide anything. But he looked too busy to care anyway. A quick nod and a half-smile and Tom was off.
As the elevator took her to the tenth floor, her thoughts turned to TC and what advice he might have for her. She walked toward her front door, key in hand. After reading her ramblings, the poor guy must’ve thought she was nutty, and he hit the DELETE button. She probably would have.
Jess tossed her purse on the sofa and made a beeline to her desk. She may as well check for the improbable. She typed in her password, ignoring the ringing phone, as she waited for the machine to pick up.
“Hello, Jess? Jess? You know who this is, and I want the scoop.”
She stood, sprinted to the phone, and grabbed it. “Marilyn? Why are you whispering?”
“Because Keith doesn’t like me gossiping. But I have to know—what gives with you and Frank?”
“Not a thing.” Jess looked heavenward and sighed. “But I had a hunch some people might misconstrue.”
“Yeah, some people might, but what did Tom say?”
Jess’s stomach clenched in a silly schoolgirl response. “I saw Tom for half a second in the parking lot, just before I left with Frank. But why should Tom—”
“Tom saw you leaving with Frank? You left with Frank?”
Jess hiked the phone off her throbbing ear, into her hair. “Now you’re talking too loud.”
“Sorry. It comes from raising Nathan. Hold on a sec.” A couple of beats later, the crackle of a sigh reached her ear. “I have to go. Keith overheard me yapping, and he says I’m—”
“Gossiping?” Jess laughed. “I suppose Keith thinks talking is gossiping. But don’t worry—you haven’t missed a thing. And if anything earth-shattering should happen, you’ll be the first to know.”
After their good-byes, Jess returned to her computer, still chuckling. If only her life were as exciting as Marilyn imagined.
She scrolled up and down through her mail, stopped, and smiled. TC had written back after all. She opened his E-mail. There were only a few paragraphs, but better than no response. As she skimmed his message, Jess gasped. This guy should write soap operas.
Resting her chin on her fist, disappointment traveled to her toes. All she’d wanted was some sage advice, not a script for a fantasy. “Right. I just might call Tom because he might be madly in love with me.”
Jess exhaled a deep breath. TC had made one good point. What was the worst that could happen if she called Tom? Of course, Tom wouldn’t slam down the phone—because when he heard her voice on the machine, he wouldn’t pick up to begin with.
Turning in her chair, she reread TC’s E-mail. He had taken the time to write. She at least owed him a response.
Dear TC,
Thank you for trying to help. And I think I’ll take your advice and call Tom, at least for friendship’s sake.
I’d like to clarify one thing. My last E-mail to you was written in haste, and perhaps I led you to draw some wrong conclusions. (I don’t have a copy of the E-mail I sent you, because I delete a lot to prevent overload. Tom calls my computer the “prehistoric laptop.” We both believe it was the first laptop ever made.) In any case there’s no chance Tom’s in love with me. Women sense that kind of thing. Besides, Tom’s now seeing someone he really likes. And I’m trying to be happy for him.
Next, Frank and I were not exactly “hugging it up after hours.” Our embrace was all about forgiveness. It’s too personal to share details, but Frank revealed his heart to me, which I felt was very brave of him.
I’m glad to know this is not a one-way street—that our communication is somehow helpful to you too. I haven’t much to report today, except that I had lunch with Frank. He’s a great guy after all. But to address your other comment, there are no romantic sparks between us.
I hope to hear from you again soon. If you have any questions about the better half (females), please ask away, and I’ll help if I can.
Sincerely,
Jess
After sending the E-mail, she read a few other Love Online responses, but none piqued her interest. She would open one more, then haul her carcass downstairs with four loads of laundry.
An Instant Message popped up on her screen. Jess’s hand immediately went to her thudding heart. Tom?
“Hey, there! What’s new?”
Jess’s spine stiffened as she typed. “Not much. Nice service this morning, wasn’t it?”
“The parts I heard, yes. I was kind of distracted.”
She was thankful they weren’t face-to-face. Her heart pounded so hard that surely he’d hear it. Could he mean—? She set her trembling fingers to the keyboard. “Distracted? Why?” The cursor blinked like a clock, ticking off seconds to a time-bomb.
“I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. You name it, and it’s probably floating around in my mind.”
Where had she heard that expression before? Jess sat up straighter. “Business problems or what?” She ached to add, Or did you hate seeing me with Frank? She commanded herself to stop dreaming. TC had planted the crazy notion in her head, and now she was running with it.
“Business is business. Keeps me engaged, but I’m glad I have Frank to pick up some of the slack. You know Frank, always there when I need him.”
Jess felt the blood drain from her face. Did he mean the comment sarcastically? If so, what did she do with it? Think, Jess—think. “Yes, Frank and I had lunch after church, and he mentioned what a great team you two make.” She held her breath.
“Yep, a great team. Don’t know where I’d be without Frank. How was lunch, by the way?”
Jess’s breathing returned to somewhat normal. Tom hadn’t meant any sarcasm at all. She’d allowed TC’s comments to color her thinking. “Lunch was great.” Jess deleted “great” and replaced it with “good.” Tapping her foot to the tune of her frayed nerves, she licked her dry lips.
“What are you doing later? For dinner, I mean?”
Jess stared at the screen, fingers frozen. This had never been a loaded question in the past, and it wasn’t one now. A simple answer would suffice. “I have no plans.” Yuk! Why did she write that? Her middle name should be Desperado.
“I’m in the mood for Italian. Thinking of hitting La Luna tonight.”
Okay, so what did that mean? Was that an invitation? “Sounds like a great idea.” Jess heard the thwack of the ball as it landed solidly back in Tom’s court.
“Want me to pick you up around five?”
Losing her bravado, Jess bit her lip. His invitation shouldn’t send whirly-twirlies to her stomach. Oh, but it did. And how could she stop them now? “Hmm, sounds like a plan.” She stopped herself from adding that the “hmm” was meant for La Luna’s food and not the delicious warmth of his nearness.
❧
Jess sat in the lobby of her building, dressed in her black s
kirt and white blouse, making every effort to strike a relaxed pose. Any minute now Tom would appear in the lobby, and she would have to act normal. Practicing composure, she stopped wiggling her foot and straightened her shoulders.
She heard the slam of a car door. Her stomach jumped. Though she could see Tom through the glass doors, she knew she was out of sight from his vantage point. Her gaze traveled over him, head to toe, as her nails pressed harder into her palms.
His thick, golden-brown hair—brushed back from his tanned, handsome face—set off his dark eyes. And his broad shoulders. . .
Jess dropped her gaze to the purse on her lap, studiously avoiding him, until she could no longer ignore the echo of his footsteps drawing nearer.
“Jess.”
The velvet warmth of his voice sent the heat of a blush to her face. She stood quickly, sending her purse crashing to the floor.
Stooping simultaneously to fetch it, their heads bumped. “I’m sorry.” Jess forced a laugh. The perfect beginning to their evening together.
Tom laughed, handed her the purse, and rubbed his brow. “Anybody ever tell you you have a hard head?”
His humor broke the tension. They walked to the truck together, smiling and exchanging brief glances. But she needed to pull herself together, or she’d be a klutz all night. And Tom, knowing her so well, would see right through her casual façade to the panic beneath.
Tom held open the door and offered his hand to give her a lift into the truck.
Jess placed her hand in his and positioned her foot on the running board. In a blind flash, she was in Tom’s strong arms, her cheek pressed against his solid chest.
Jess stiffened. All she needed was to appear too eager. This could be the perfunctory hug of a remorseful friend—
But suddenly Tom crushed her to him, shattering her doubts, making her senses spin. She melted against his chest, buried her face in the crux of his neck, inhaling his clean lime scent.