by Carol Voss
Chapter Ten
The aroma of delicious foods competed for customers’ attention, and voices careened through the giant room at the decibel of a small jet. Jessie glanced around the crowded community center where the church benefit was being held.
“It looks like half of Noah’s Crossing is here,” Peter said.
He was right. Not only were half the town’s residents there, but many of them were staring at Peter, Jake and Jessie.
Given their unusual circumstances, she could understand people being curious. After all, who wouldn’t want to know more about the handsome secret daddy who’d shown up out of the blue?
But she and her family had already given the town enough to talk about. Her accident. Her broken engagement. Clarissa’s pregnancy. Clarissa’s tragic death. The last thing Jessie wanted was to feed people’s curiosity, handsome secret daddy or not. But it might be smart to clue Peter in. “People are staring at us.”
“Really.” Peter walked beside her with Jake straddling his shoulders. “So what I’ve heard about small towns is true?”
“Probably.”
He gave her a look of amusement. “Let’s see. What can we do to feed the gossip mill?”
Her eyes rounded on him. “Don’t you dare.”
“It might be fun,” he teased.
She shot him a quelling look. “Easy for you to say. You don’t live here.”
“Does gossip really worry you?”
“Not usually,” she admitted. So why now? Aiming for normalcy despite the nervous energy pinging inside her ever since Peter strode across that strawberry patch yesterday, Jessie turned her attention to the long table displaying items donated for the silent auction. Everything from football memorabilia to a bread machine to artwork. Her gaze snagged on a familiar, hand-painted vase. “I can’t believe Stella Stefano donated her beautiful Victorian vase for the benefit.”
“Putty?” Jake pointed from his perch on Peter’s shoulders.
“Very pretty,” Jessie agreed.
Peter eyed the vase a little suspiciously. “You like antiques?”
“A few special ones. The vase always sat on a shelf in Stella’s kitchen, right beside her china clock. I’ll miss seeing it there.”
Peter’s breath stirred her hair as he peered over her shoulder to look at the sheet of paper near the vase. “Only two people have bid on it.”
Nerves dancing, she glanced at the paper. “It’s worth so much more than those bids.”
“How much is it worth?” He brushed her arm as he picked up the pen.
Her nerves had a field day. But the pen in his hand demanded her attention. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll bid on it for you.”
“Your name on the bidding sheet for an antique vase? I don’t think so.” She held out her hand for the pen. “I’ll bid on it for myself.”
He gave her a measured look and handed over the pen.
Jessie considered her bid, then wrote down more than she could afford. “It is for a good cause,” she rationalized.
“You think that’s high enough?” Peter asked.
She squinted at the amount she’d written. “I hope so.”
“Hey, Jake.” Maggie stopped and gave Jake’s leg a tug.
“Maggie.” Jake kicked in excitement.
“Take it easy up there, Jake.” Chuckling, Peter grasped Jake’s churning legs in his long fingers. “Hi, Maggie.”
Maggie gave him a cool nod of acknowledgment and turned to Jessie. “I see you bid on the vase. Stella will be thrilled if you get it.”
Jessie noted Maggie was being more than a tad snippy to Peter. But what did she expect after she’d told Maggie all her fears about what Peter might do? “I’m surprised she donated it.”
“Me, too. She insisted she wanted somebody to have it that would appreciate it. She knows I’m not into antiques. And Tony…well, who knows about Tony? But I need to get a move on. Stella already headed for the car.” She waved at Jake.
“Bye.” Jake did his imitation of a wave.
Peter bent close to Jessie’s ear. “I get the distinct impression Maggie doesn’t like me much.”
His warm breath gave Jessie goose bumps down her spine. “She’s very protective.”
“Ah. Then I guess I deserve her disdain, don’t I?”
Goose bumps playing tag on her skin, she took a prudent step back. “Yes, you do.”
Peter gave her a grimace as if she’d wounded him. “Is Tony her brother?”
Good thing Peter hadn’t asked Maggie that question. With a last glance at her bid, Jessie began walking through the crowd. “Actually, Tony is Stella’s grandson. Stella took Maggie in when her parents died.”
“Stella sounds like a generous woman.”
Jessie smiled. “She has a huge, Italian heart. And a will to match.”
“And Tony?”
“The same. Unfortunately for Maggie, he ditched Noah’s Crossing after high school, and he’s never been back,” Jessie said disgustedly.
“Sounds like Maggie’s not the only protective friend.”
Jessie nodded. “We’ve looked out for each other since kindergarten.”
“You’re both lucky.” Peter raised his arm in greeting. “Your mother is waving at us.”
“She’s selling ice cream and baked goods from the diner.”
“Things you baked and donated?”
She nodded.
He gave her a puzzled look. “What time did you start baking this morning to get all that ready?”
“I’ve been doing extra baking for weeks and storing it in the freezer.”
Peter grinned down at her. “Shows you what I know.”
He had the most disarming grin. A little lopsided, a tad hesitant as if he didn’t often use it. And absolutely bone melting, in her case.
“Think Jake would go for some ice cream?” Peter asked.
She smiled up at Jake. “Want ice cream?”
His face lighting, he clapped his hands and bent for her to take him.
Peter lowered Jake into her arms, his warm gaze holding hers. “How about you? Would you like ice cream?”
The tiny flecks of caramel in his mesmerizing, chocolate eyes made them look even deeper. Richer. More compelling.
“Would a double-chocolate ice cream with butterscotch sprinkles in a wafer cone hit the spot?” Peter asked.
She couldn’t help smiling. They’d had ice cream after that first day in the park. “How did you remember all that?”
Peter lifted an eyebrow. “Quick study, remember? And not many people have such definite taste in ice cream.”
“I take my food very seriously.”
He chuckled.
Had she ever heard a deeper, more masculine chuckle? His chuckle made her smile.
“One double-chocolate with butterscotch sprinkles and wafer cone coming up, Jess.”
Mom’s voice? Cheeks burning, Jessie tore her gaze from Peter’s fascinating eyes to focus on her mother. Lovely. She’d been smiling into Peter’s eyes with Mom and half of Noah’s Crossing looking on. What was she thinking?
“I’d like a piece of Jessie’s blackberry pie,” Peter said. “And Jake likes strawberry ice cream in a dish.”
No surprise he remembered Jake’s preference. But hers? Jessie hid a pleased little smile and resolved to keep her fascination with Peter strictly to herself from here on out.
“Peter can bring food to you and Jake, Jess. Grab Greg’s and Mitzi’s empty spots.” Mom nodded to Jessie’s cousin Greg and his very pregnant wife vacating their spots at a long, white, vinyl-draped table crowded with people.
Greg’s wife looked so glowing and fulfilled, Jessie’s throat closed. Nothing like a reminder of why she had no business being so pleased Peter remembered her favorite ice cream. Nor smiling into his eyes, for that matter.
Jessie moved to claim the vacant chairs. Settling Jake on her lap, she noticed several people stopping to shake hands with Peter as he waited at the coun
ter. For all their curiosity, they were an accepting community of people who cared about one another. And they were welcoming Peter into the fold. He looked so genuinely pleased that she couldn’t help being happy for him. She nodded at a woman who served on the worship committee with her.
“One dish of strawberry ice cream for Jake.” Peter set the plastic cup in front of Jake. “Please note…I remembered the spoon this time.”
“Tunku,” Jake took the spoon.
A grin lit Peter’s handsome face. “You’re very welcome, Jake.” He focused his attention on Jessie. “I think I’m beginning to understand him.”
The pride and warmth radiating from Peter made Jessie smile as she got Jake started with his ice cream.
Peter handed her cone to her.
“Thanks.” She took it from him and caught a drip with her tongue.
He sat down beside her and began eating his pie in earnest.
His closeness kept her so off-balance. She glanced her mom’s way.
Her dad had joined her mom behind the counter. And at the moment, both parents were watching and smiling their approval. Apparently, Peter was winning them over, too. Jessie concentrated fiercely on her ice-cream cone.
“The woman who’s in charge of the auction introduced herself,” Peter said. “I asked her to watch that vase. If anybody bids over you, she promised to put in a higher bid.”
“Oh, no,” Jessie moaned.
He gave her a puzzled look. “I thought the vase meant a lot to you.”
“It does. Thank you.” She didn’t have the heart to tell him how much people would love talking about the thoughtful thing Peter was doing for her. Nor how quickly the news would spread and pique people’s fruitful imaginations. Everybody would have them locked in their minds as a couple for sure. As a ready-made family, for that matter.
She bit her lip. But before people did any such matching up, they’d have to finish discussing the fact that Peter first had been Clarissa’s. Lovely. But if Peter hadn’t been with Clarissa, she wouldn’t have Jake, now would she?
“Hi, Jessie,” a child’s voice greeted.
Jessie turned. “How are you doing, Amy?”
“Good.” The first grader smiled at Jake, exposing a gap in her teeth that hadn’t been there last week. “Hi, Jake.”
“Amy,” Jake squealed, pointing to his bowl. “Cweam. Ummm.”
The little girl’s dimples flashed. “Strawberry? It looks good, Jake.”
“Amy is my cousin Bill’s daughter,” Jessie explained. “Amy, this is Peter.”
“Hi.” Amy shyly ducked her head.
“Nice to meet you, Amy. I’m Jake’s daddy.”
Amy’s blond head popped up. “Jake’s daddy?”
“Sure thing.” Peter grinned.
“No.” Jake pointed to Peter. “Pedo.”
Jessie’s heart contracted. He didn’t understand how significant his correction was. “Peter is your daddy, sweetheart.”
Jake shook his head and pointed at Peter again. “Pedo.”
She met Peter’s eyes. “He doesn’t understand.”
“I know. But thank you for telling him,” Peter said softly.
“Are you and Jessie married?” Amy asked.
“No,” Peter answered.
Amy frowned up at Jessie. “If you’re not married, how can he be Jake’s daddy?”
Peter raised an eyebrow at Jessie.
Did he think she’d know how to explain their situation to a six-year-old?
“Amy, would you like ice cream?” Peter asked.
Amy smiled, the gap in her front teeth prominently displayed. “Strawberry with a regular cone, please.”
Winking at Jessie, he stood, grasped Amy’s hand and strolled to the counter with her, her blond curls bouncing.
Her mom listened attentively to Peter’s request, an approving smile lifting her lips.
No question, Peter would be a wonderful dad to the bunch of kids he wanted someday. As happy as Jessie was for him, she couldn’t help feeling sad for herself. She concentrated on her ice cream.
Peter strode back alone.
Glancing around for Amy, Jessie spotted her talking up a storm with her mom. “You’re a natural with children.”
He gave her a devastating smile she’d never seen before. “That’s a major compliment, coming from you.”
All she could do was return his smile and try to remember how to breathe as understanding seeped into her addled mind. People gossiping about Peter being Clarissa’s guy, or him and Jessie being a couple or the three of them being a ready-made family wasn’t what really bothered her, was it? What bothered her was that being a couple/family was what she was starting to want.
And what she could never have.
“Jess?” her mom said softly.
Jessie opened her eyes. She’d rocked Jake long after she’d felt his body relax against her in sleep. Now, the light in the hallway outlined her mom’s slim figure. Jessie stood and laid her sweet boy in his crib. She drew his blanket over his sturdy little body, turned and followed her mother down the hall.
“I made tea. Want to have a tea chat?”
“Okay.” She was sure her mom was as aware as she was that the last “tea chat” they’d had included Clarissa right before she’d gone back to New York. Two weeks later, she’d died trying to save her research in a lab fire. Apparently, Mom thought it was time to reclaim the tradition they’d had since she and Clarissa were very young.
Maybe a conversation with her mom would take Jessie’s mind off Peter. His nightly calls were quickly becoming part of Jake’s bedtime ritual. And knowing she shouldn’t look forward to hearing his deep voice on the other end of the line as much as Jake did didn’t seem to stop her. She pulled out a chair at the table and slumped into it.
Her mom sat opposite her, beginning the familiar ritual by pouring tea from the china teapot that had belonged to Jessie’s great-great-grandmother. She handed Jessie a cup.
“Thanks.” Drawing in the scent of spiced tea, Jessie took a careful sip. “I miss Rissa so much.”
“I know, dear. So do I. But I’d expect you’d be on top of the world with the way things are working out with Peter and Jake.”
Jessie nodded. “I’m very happy about that, Mom.”
Her mother gave a slight shake of her head. “You don’t act happy.”
“I am. I’m very happy,” she insisted. She certainly wasn’t going to talk about Peter’s thoughtfulness during his calls. Or that he always asked about her day, shared events of his own day and encouraged her comments as if he cared what she thought.
Mom’s gaze ran over her as if looking for someplace that hurt. “Are you well?”
“I’m fine.”
“No, Jessie, you aren’t fine.”
Jessie took another sip of tea, set it on the table and faked a yawn. “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.”
Her mom shook her head. “Save that hogwash for somebody who doesn’t know you.”
“Hogwash? I’ve never heard you use that word before.” Jessie forced a laugh. “You worry too much, Mom.”
“Worrying is part of my job description. So is knowing when something is wrong with my daughter. And I’m very good at both.”
“Well, this time, your barometer is off.”
“So how is Peter?”
“Peter?” Jessie gave her mother a serious frown. How did Peter get into this conversation again?
“You talk to him on the phone every night. You must know how he is.”
He was lonely. Jessie heard it in his voice, in his silences. And she felt responsible for it. Because if he hadn’t left Jake with her, he wouldn’t be lonely, would he? “Peter’s great. He’s very encouraged because his friend with ALS seems to be responding to the experimental drug Peter developed.”
“That’s wonderful.” Her mom sighed. “I know you too well, Jess, not to sense your excitement when he calls. I haven’t heard you sound like that since Neil.”
Her dad walked into the kitchen.
Jessie held her breath, hoping he hadn’t overheard. She never stood a chance when her parents ganged up on her.
He met her eyes. “Nothing between you and Peter except Jake?”
Jessie let out her breath.
“Your mother and I are getting older, Jess, but we can’t miss the obvious. Peter looks at you like you’re the best thing since plum pudding. I haven’t forgotten looking at your mother that way.” He looked at her mother now, a twinkle in his eye.
Her mom’s eyes crinkled in a satisfied little smile.
“Not everybody is as lucky as you two, Dad. And you don’t have to worry about Peter. I’ve told you before—I don’t want a man in my life.” It was time to end this chat. “I’m going to turn in. I’m beat.” She started to get up.
“Not so fast,” her dad said in his voice of authority.
She sat back down. You’d think she was still twelve.
“When you and Neil broke off your engagement, you wouldn’t talk to us about it, so your mother and I backed off to give you time to heal.”
“I know how disappointed you were.”
“Good heavens.” Her mother sounded surprised. “We liked Neil, of course. But you’ve never disappointed us, Jess. We were sorry for your loss is all. And sorry it happened while you were still recovering from the accident.”
“Thank God Jake brought you back to us,” her dad said. “But you can’t tell me you’re not turning down every interested man who asks you out. And it’s not healthy. It’s time to move on, put the past completely behind you.”
“I’ve done that, Dad.” She had, hadn’t she?
He shook his head. “You obviously haven’t.”
Her mom set her cup on the table. “Maybe we could help you more if you’d tell us what’s wrong.”
“I’m doing just fine, Mom. And you both help more than you know.”
Dad patted her hand. “When you were little, we used to watch you put every last one of your dolls to bed before you went to sleep. And you’re a wonderful mother to Jake. We know how important having a family is to you, sweetheart.”