by Jenna Mindel
“Just a little nausea. I’ll be fine, though. I even ate eggs for breakfast. With lots of salt and pepper like you made them. Go figure.”
He smiled, feeling like he stood on the deck of a rocking ship without a railing. “Any classes today?”
Her gaze narrowed. “Don’t even think about it, mister. I have two and I’m going.”
He put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll check in later.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to check on me.”
“I know.” He reached in the cooler, grabbed two bottles of ice-cold water—Annie had added more ice—and then climbed up the ladder to join Luke.
He didn’t have to check on her, but he would. He wanted to.
* * *
By the time Annie started the final relaxation stretch that announced the end of her last class for the day, she spotted Matthew stepping into her studio. He stood out like a weed in a garden. Tall and masculine, he held a ridiculously feminine bouquet of flowers in his hands.
He gave her a nod and sat down.
What did he think he was doing here with those?
Her clients were of various ages and skill levels, but today’s class was filled with women and most of them young. It didn’t take long for several to notice a good-looking man in their midst. Whispers started and heads turned.
“Remember to breathe. Eyes, closed. We’ve got a few minutes in this pose.” Annie lay on her back on a mat in the front of the room. Her palms were flat open and positioned over her head. Her bare feet were apart, too, with feet flexed toward her body with toes in the air.
Talk about feeling vulnerable. She didn’t dare look at Matthew again, even though she felt his gaze on her. Probably staring at her feet.
The next moments passed slowly. Agonizingly slow.
What was he doing here? She could get up and see, but that would only distract the class. The full body stretch was important after nearly an hour and half of concentrated movements.
“Okay, now breathe deeper. Slowly wiggle those fingers and toes. Bring your knees into your chest, keeping eyes closed. Continue to breathe deeply. When you’re ready, sit up and we’re done.”
Annie heard the chatter grow louder as some rolled up the exercise mats they’d brought with them. Others wiped down her studio-provided mats with her homemade spray mixture of vinegar, borax and water.
She got up and cleaned her mat while Matthew spoke with a small circle of women he appeared to know in the waiting area. How many of them had he dated? He’d grown up in Maple Springs. There’d be women he’d gone out with still around, right?
She didn’t want to think about any of that. She had no claim on Matthew Zelinsky. In all the years she’d known him, he didn’t want to be claimed. Matthew had made no secret of his desire to remain single.
She glanced at the group. Several ladies eyed that bouquet with interest. She threw on her T-shirt and checked her watch. Jack’s mom planned to stop by in half an hour.
Annie had Jack’s Bible to give her and then they’d grab lunch. Time spent with her mother-in-law might be a good thing, even if her nerves didn’t agree.
Matthew’s presence didn’t help. And neither did this new jittery feeling she had when around him.
She finally walked toward him. “Hello.”
Matthew slipped out of the circle of females and held out the bundle of flowers. “These are for you.”
Annie forced a smile. “Thanks.”
The conversation of the circle stilled.
Great, just great! That’d get the rumor mill started for sure. Annie took the blooms calmly enough, but her heart bounced around her rib cage. Maybe she’d come out of that final stretch too soon.
“I’ll put these in water.” Annie turned toward her office, and her stomach dropped when Jack’s mom entered the studio. For a minute she stood mute, blinking like a kid caught with her hands in the cookie jar before dinner.
Of course, her mother-in-law tended to be early. Why would today be any different? “Marie!”
Her mother-in-law looked confused before controlling her features into that pinched expression Annie knew all too well. “Lovely flowers.”
“Yes.” She wanted to run.
The circle of women broke up and several had left. Most of her class had gone, with only a couple of stragglers left talking in the corner.
“The roof is done. And the debris Dumpster is also gone.” Matthew stepped close and took the flowers from her fingers. Giving her hand a quick squeeze, he whispered, “You’re going to crush these if you hold them any tighter.”
Annie clenched her teeth and silently counted.
Marie Marshall glanced from Matthew to her, to the flowers and then back to her. Her dark eyes simmered with hurt and something close to disgust.
Annie could only imagine what her mother-in-law must be thinking. By the look in the woman’s eyes, it wasn’t good. But Annie hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Marie, you remember Matthew Zelinsky, Jack’s first mate on the freighter. He and his brother replaced my roof this week.”
Matthew held out his hand. “Mrs. Marshall. How are you and your husband?”
Marie hesitated, quickly shook Matthew’s hand and then let go. “We’re holding up.”
Matthew smiled, seemingly unfazed by the woman’s frostiness. “Jack was a good man. Like another brother to me.”
Marie nodded, clearly not in the mood for this kind of small talk.
Annie made fists. How dare she treat Matthew like he was somehow beneath her concern! They’d all lost Jack and they all hurt from it.
Matthew raised the bouquet toward her. “I thought these might cheer you up. I’ll put them in water and get going.” Then he gave Jack’s mom a wide smile. “Good to see you, Mrs. Marshall. Take care.”
The couple of clients hanging around finally walked toward the door. One of them waved. “Thanks, Annie.”
“See you next week.” She waved back. Then to Jack’s mom, she said, “Marie, why don’t you have a seat while I get my bag.”
The woman looked around with distaste. “I’ll stand by the door.”
Of course Marie wouldn’t sit down. That might be construed as giving her approval, and Jack’s mom had never approved of anything Annie did. Not her career choice, her studio, the way she dressed, wore her hair or what she chose to eat. All of it had garnered that pinched look for the past fifteen years.
It was a wonder that Jack’s parents had guaranteed her business loan with the equity on their house. But then, Jack had persuaded them, and Annie promised to have the loan paid off sooner than later. Too bad that sooner came in a way none of them would have expected. Once Jack’s death benefit came in, she’d pay off the loan. But she’d never be done with her in-laws. Not when she carried their grandchild.
“I’ll only be a moment.” Annie slipped away into her small office as Matthew was setting the flower-filled vase on her desk.
“I clipped the ends.” How many men knew to do that to the ends of fresh flowers?
Annie stuck her face into the bouquet and breathed deep the sharp fragrance of daisies mixed with soft yellow roses. “These are beautiful. Thank you.”
“I thought so.” Matthew gently wiped the tip of her nose with his finger. “Daisy dust.”
Annie let loose a nervous giggle and scrubbed her nose.
He stared at her a moment before looking beyond her. “You want a bodyguard?”
Annie glanced at the entrance where Marie stood with a forbidding frown on her face. That’d throw her mother-in-law for a loop, but having Matthew along was the last thing she needed and one more thing for Marie to disapprove of.
She reached for her purse and the bag with Jack’s Bible and a few other things Marie might want. “
No. But thanks for the offer.”
He touched her arm, sending a shiver through her. “I stopped by to ask if you’d like to come to my parents’ place on Memorial Day for a cookout.”
Annie shook her head. She wanted to go to Jack’s grave and doubted she’d be good company. She wasn’t up for a family gathering, anyway. “Thanks for the kind offer, but I’m going to pass.”
He searched her eyes. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”
“I will.” She meant it this time.
He gave her shoulder a soft squeeze and Annie nearly leaned into him. Without another word, he left.
She heard him say goodbye to Jack’s mom with warm words of encouragement. Running her fingers over the flowers he’d given her, Annie squared her shoulders. She could do this. For her baby’s sake and Jack’s, she’d treat Marie with a little grace. Grief wasn’t easy for anyone.
Plastering on a smile she didn’t feel, Annie met her mother-in-law at the door. “Ready?”
Marie acted as if she couldn’t exit the building quickly enough.
Annie locked up for the rest of the weekend. “Where would you like to go for lunch?”
Her mother-in-law looked her up and down. “Aren’t you going to change clothes?”
Annie had pulled on a pair of gym pants over her leggings. Her T-shirt might be baggy, but it was perfectly acceptable. She glanced at her mother-in-law, who dressed in her usual long denim skirt and sweater set looking like she stepped out of an earlier era. The woman even wore dainty pearls. “I hadn’t planned on it. I know a great little soup-and-sandwich shop a block over.”
Marie let loose a sigh. “Okay, then.”
They walked the short block without speaking, but then the noise of local teens hanging out and the bustle of shopping tourists made conversation a moot point.
Once seated, with their orders given, Marie finally got down to what had been on her mind. “Are you seeing that young man?”
Annie choked on her iced tea. “What?”
“Jack’s first mate.”
Marie knew his name. Why didn’t she use it? “Matthew is a friend. He’s been a friend to Jack and me for years. Why should that change?”
Her mother-in-law sat back. Her mouth worked into a grim line before she answered. “Because you’re a widow now. And quite a bit older than he. Think of Jack. It doesn’t look right for a Christian widow to be out carrying on.”
Annie’s mouth dropped open, but nothing came out.
Was she supposed to walk around in a black veil? Might be better if she let that one go without commenting. It wouldn’t come out right, anyway.
Annie jammed her hands in her bag until her fingers felt the soft leather-bound Bible. She handed it over. “I thought you and John might like to have this.”
Marie’s eyes widened as she took it and leafed through the pages. “But this is Jack’s Bible.”
Annie set the bag containing one of Jack’s college sweatshirts, a pair of binoculars she knew her in-laws could use to watch birds and some other small items at Marie’s feet. “I think he’d like you to keep it.”
Marie’s eyes filled with tears. “But won’t you miss it?”
Annie smiled, her heart softening. She had something far more precious from Jack. When the time was right, when she was sure the baby was strong and healthy, she’d let Jack’s parents in on her news. But not yet. Not until she was sure.
“If I do, maybe I can swing by your house and ask to read it.”
Marie looked surprised. As she should. Annie didn’t make a habit of popping in to visit her in-laws. But that was bound to change with a baby to share with grandparents.
And she’d have to share.
Her mother-in-law patted her hand in a rare gesture. “This will always be available to you.”
Annie flipped her hand over to grip Marie’s for a moment. She had to remember how difficult this must be on her, losing her only son. Her only child. “Thanks.”
Marie squeezed and didn’t let go. “Annie, I’m worried about you.”
“Why?”
“You’re working like nothing happened, scheduling more classes for summer. And then a younger man brings you flowers in front of everyone. In front of me.”
Annie pulled her hand back. Hadn’t she worried about that, too? What if other people in town judged her by how she mourned her husband’s death? “My studio is my livelihood. People don’t quit their jobs when they experience death. Take a leave, sure, but I already did that.”
“For only two weeks. Do you really think that was enough time?”
Annie had been itching to get out of her house and back to classes. Back to a sense of normal. “Enough time for whom?”
Marie got that pinched expression again.
Their food arrived and the subject was dropped. But it nagged at Annie like a rosebush thorn stuck in her skin. She winced at the image of Matthew handing her those flowers.
Wiping her mouth with a napkin, Marie sighed. “Don’t you have girlfriends?”
“Yes, I do.” But summer was Ginger’s busiest time at the store. She didn’t expect her friend to drop everything so she could hold Annie’s hand.
“And do they bring you flowers?” Marie’s eyebrows rose.
Annie saw where this was going and thought hard before answering. Had Ginger ever brought her flowers? Some of the women from church had, but those were sent via a florist and didn’t really count.
The image of a yellow rosebush Ginger had given her jelled into certainty. Yellow. The color of friendship. Like the flowers Matthew had given her. And Annie smiled.
“Yes. Sometimes they do.”
* * *
The morning of Memorial Day, Matthew looked out the kitchen window and snarled. Dreary, drizzly rain slid down the glass in thin streaks. He hoped it cleared up so they could picnic outside and play horseshoes.
“Glad we got that roof done.” His brother slapped him on the shoulder.
Matthew yawned and nodded.
Surrounded by noisy men most of the year on a freighter, Matthew remembered why he’d moved in with Cam. Cam was rarely home when he was and vice versa. But peace and quiet had eluded him since his kid brother had moved in. He was over the TV on high volume and constant phone calls.
Luke dribbled milk over the side of his cereal bowl and left it on the table. The kid was a slob, too.
Matthew clenched his jaw. Used to room inspections and the like during his maritime academy days and even on the freighter, Matthew had learned tidy habits. Jack Marshall had demanded a neat and clean ship.
“Are you going to wipe that up?” he asked the retreating form.
“I’ll get to it when I put the bowl in the sink.” Luke slouched onto the couch. With nowhere but their parents’ house to go this fine Memorial Day, Luke’s live-wire energy had fizzled out.
“Dishwasher,” Matthew corrected and rinsed a dishcloth. He wiped away the cereal crumbs and milk puddles from the small table.
“Whatever,” Luke mumbled around a mouthful.
“I’ll meet you at Mom and Dad’s.” He was showered and dressed with no reason to hang around.
Luke raised his spoon in acknowledgment. Out with friends until late the night before, his little brother ran much slower than normal this morning.
In his truck, Matthew drove north toward his family’s home. Passing by the Maple Springs cemetery, he noticed the fresh floral wreaths and American flags that had been placed with care in honor of the day.
He spotted a small car that looked like Annie’s parked near a grove of trees and slowed down. Contemplating turning in at the next drive, Matthew pulled off the road instead. If Annie was there, he doubted she’d want him intruding at Jack’s grave site.
He scanned the area.
Their town’s cemetery was good-sized, with driveways leading to walkways that twisted and turned through woods and open fields. There weren’t many people there this morning perhaps because of the drizzle. But then somebody had placed all those wreaths. The town maintenance folks had probably staked in the flags.
He watched a lone, slight figure holding an umbrella with one hand, while the other flew through the air in conversation. It was Annie.
Talking...
To Jack.
He gripped the steering wheel as she paced back and forth. Whatever she said, Jack was getting an earful. Annie looked agitated. Animated. And incredibly lovely.
Matthew wondered if his friend and captain was up in Heaven listening. And if Jack could hear her, what might he say in return? What advice would he give his widow?
He swallowed around the lump in his throat and checked the rearview mirror. He pulled back out onto the road and headed for his folks’ house. Lost in images of Annie at Jack’s grave, it didn’t take long before Matthew pulled into his parents’ driveway.
His mom spotted him the minute he walked in the door. “Matthew. You’re here early, and where’s Annie?”
“She decided not to come.” His throat felt tight when he said it. He couldn’t get the image of her talking to her husband’s grave out of his mind.
She touched his shoulder. “Maybe you can call her later.”
He nodded. But maybe he wasn’t in the mood for family and horseshoes and a campfire. He wanted to head over to Annie’s and make sure she was all right. But that’d have to keep. The woman deserved time to grieve in her own way. She’d promised to call him if she needed anything.
“You okay, honey?”
The heaviness of missing his friend lay like a heavy cloak dragging on the ground. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
He nearly laughed at how he’d echoed Annie’s own words. Those two little words were often a shield. I’m fine meant the opposite. A no-trespass sign for the soul.
His mom wrapped her arms around his waist. “Come in and tell me what’s on your mind. I just made a pot of fresh coffee.”
Matthew smiled. He smelled coffee mixed with the scent of slow-cooked ribs that would be thrown on the grill later. This was where he needed to be right now. There was something about coming home that seemed to make everything better. Annie didn’t have that. With Jack gone, going home for her meant entering an empty house.