by Heather Hunt
“Maybe it would be a good idea to have your father send up a replacement for you,” he began, but he quickly backpedaled as her eyes narrowed. “I’m just saying that with your injuries and all...”
“I know perfectly well what you’re saying, Jack Ellis,” Grace snapped. “You don’t think I’m cut out for the job, do you?”
“It’s not exactly that,” he wavered.
“Then what exactly is it?”
“You’re fresh out of school, Grace. This is your first real assignment.”
“And?”
“And...all I’m saying is that we’re talking about people here. This is not just some project for your thesis.”
“I recognize what’s at stake here, Jack.” Grace glared at him as she tapped her pen against the already battered dining room table. “I’m not stupid.”
“I know all about you graduating with highest honors. My grandparents talked about it for weeks,” he mumbled. “I just wish you would look at the entire picture here. The decisions that are made here will affect lives. They will determine the quality of life around here.”
He motioned toward a group of residents huddled around a sparse buffet. “Don’t you think they deserve the best we can give them?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” Her voice was steadily rising along with her anger.
Grace pushed the stack of handwritten suggestions she had removed from the suggestion box earlier toward him. The residents had wasted no time giving their input. The suggestions were well thought out, some concise, others very eloquent.
“What are these?”
“Suggestions from the residents,” she told him. “You may not agree with my tactics, Jack, but I really do have the best interests of the residents at heart.”
“What do they say?”
“Read them for yourself,” she challenged him. “The residents seem to think we have a ways to go before things are set right. I’m willing to work toward that goal. Are you?”
Jack grumbled. She’d been slick about acquiring it, but he knew that Grace had gained the upper hand in their battle of wills...at least for the time being.
“What’s on their minds?” He picked up a sheet of pink stationary and began to read. “A beauty parlor?” He chuckled. “Why in the world would they need one of those?”
“It kind of makes sense.” Grace felt her defensive mode kick in. “You have no idea how hard it is to maintain that blue color some of these women walk around with.” That earned her a smile. “Really, Jack. A woman still wants to feel beautiful...no matter what her age might be. Some of our residents still drive, but many of them have a hard time finding transportation, especially during the colder months.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he agreed as he handed the paper back to her. “What else?”
“Better work-out equipment, a stereo and intercom system for music and announcements in the common areas, holiday decorations...” Grace rattled off several of the suggestions.
“Good grief! It’s not even October, and they’re thinking about decorating for the holidays?”
“I suppose so,” she shrugged. “You have to realize, Jack. Many of these people decorated for their children and grandchildren for years. Not to mention, we have our own little colony of retired schoolteachers. Don’t you remember all those gaudy holiday decorations we used to have in school?”
“I see your point,” he admitted. “Oh, by the way...” he began.
Grace looked up from her paperwork and gave him her full attention.
“The stereo system you mentioned earlier is a done deal.”
“What do you mean?”
“This place already has a brand-new sound system. The crew came across it during the electrical inspection. Looks like it’s never been used.”
“Where’s the control station?”
He laughed, and she wondered what was humorous about her question.
“That’s the funny part,” he explained. “It’s no wonder the thing hasn’t been used. We found it in a closet in the women’s restroom down the hall.”
“You’re kidding.” Grace shook her head, and Jack raised his hands in the air.
“A southern gentleman never tells a lady a lie.” He returned her list to the table. “Let me know if you need help getting it to work. The electrician has already re-wired it so that there are controls in both the nursing station and the director’s office. It has a radio, but there’s a CD changer and an auxiliary hook-up, too.”
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “I’ll look at it later.”
“I guess I’ll get back to work, then. We’ve got a lot of it to do. If we’re lucky, we’ll finish up a couple of weeks before Christmas. Just in time to get all those decorations up, right?”
As Jack flashed his smile in a half-hearted way that led her to believe he wasn’t promising anything in regards to the time-line, everything she’d ever heard about contractors and deadlines came to mind. She just prayed that her contractor didn’t turn out of be a snake in the grass!
“It’s doable, Jack,” she pointed out. His smile had disarmed her again, and she shuffled the suggestions nervously.
I’m so pathetic, she thought. I can barely sit at a table with the man without fawning all over him.
“So, the Princess deems it possible?”
Grace started to argue, but she knew that Jack would have a comeback for anything she said. Instead of engaging in the sparring match, she played along.
“It’s a royal decree.” She raised her brows in her haughtiest expression.
“Well, your wish is my command, Highness.” He smiled obsequiously.
“I thought the day would never come when Jack Ellis bowed to my will,” she preened. He didn’t comment, so Grace got back to the business at hand. “So, what’s the rest of the day looking like?”
“Drywall and ceramic tiles,” he paused.
“I’m curious, Jack,” Grace pulled her hair back from her face and secured it with a clip. “How is it that the man in charge ends up doing so many menial chores?”
“Menial?” he asked.
“I mean...” Seeing that she’d offended him, she began to backpedal. “Don’t you have crews to do the hands-on stuff?”
“Yes, Grace,” he nodded. “I have several crews seeing to each aspect of this renovation. But part of being in charge is lending a helping hand when it’s needed. It’s letting your workers see that you aren’t afraid to get your hands dirty. Kind of like you’re doing here.”
“Thank you…I think,” she smiled. “I understand what you’re saying, but your jobs are so extensive in scope, not to mention that your company always has several projects going at once. How do you manage?”
“I just have to make time,” he explained. “I can’t be on every job site every day, so I make a lot of phone calls and put a lot of miles on that truck of mine.”
“Hmm,” she nodded. “I guess I’m just so overwhelmed here that I can’t imagine dealing with even more work.”
“It just takes time, Gracie.” He stood up and stretched. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
“I hope,” she smiled. “So, what comes after the drywall and tile?” She looked up at his hesitation and found him watching her with a funny look.
“Well, I need to meet with the electrical engineer, but then I thought I would take a beautiful lady to dinner. After that, I’ll just have to see how things pan out. This used to be gold country, you know.”
“I’ve heard that.” Grace bit her lip. She hoped that he was talking about her, but she wasn’t exactly sure. No one, besides her father...and he was way partial...had ever called her beautiful. She tried not to act desperate.
“Does your girlfriend live around here?”
Jack watched her face, his blue eyes moving in a slow perusal over her features. For someone so intelligent, Grace was unbelievably naive. She really had no clue how attractive she was, he realized. Amazing!
“So is six o’clock
okay?” He pushed the chair back under the table.
“For?”
“Just be ready when I get there,” Jack told her with a laugh. And with that, he left her stuttering a weak protest.
Grace groaned and scooted to the edge of the seat and looked down at a stack of papers that had fluttered from her hand with Jack’s departure. That man was going to drive her crazy before this project was complete. She was sure of it.
He had left her with a couple of new problems, as well. Not only did she have to come up with an outfit for the date, but now she had to figure out a way to wedge her cane underneath the table to retrieve the fallen papers.
She looked around the room once again and thought it strange that maybe, just maybe, the place was starting to grow on her.
•∞•∞•
“What in the world is this place?” Grace braced her good hand on the door of Jack’s truck and eased down onto the ground. The dust from their arrival had yet to settle, and she coughed as it hit her in the face.
“Big Jerry’s.” Jack reached her side and held out a hand. “Careful, Gracie. Your cane will be pretty useless on this gravel.”
Grace dropped her cane onto the bed of the truck and took his hand. It was warm and calloused and swallowed hers whole. She gripped his fingers tentatively. It was a nice feeling, holding Jack’s hand.
“And what is Big Jerry’s?”
“It’s a landmark around here,” he explained. “Old Jerry opened up this very catfish shack thirty years ago, right about the time I began staying the summers with Grandma Alice and Gramps.”
“So this is where the locals eat?”
“Pretty much,” he nodded. “If you’d rather go somewhere else, we can head over to Dahlonega, but I have to tell you, you won’t find anything better than Jerry’s. He has a way with fish, and his barbeque isn’t bad either.”
“No, this is fine,” she told him as they made their way up several rock steps to a rustic deck.
They entered the restaurant, and Grace felt as if she’d stepped into an authentic fish camp. Glass cases full of brightly colored antique lures flashed in the dim light, and an extensive collection of every type of fishing rod imaginable hung on the rough pine wall boards. The only thing missing was a life preserver. As she looked around the room, she was amazed at the attention to detail. The place was definitely rustic, but someone had done an excellent job placing things in just the right spot.
At least she met the dress code, she thought. Grace glanced down at her black long-sleeved tee-shirt, jeans and Birkenstocks. Besides her running shoes, the clogs were the only pair of shoes that fit the ankle brace. She’d been able to leave her foot bare at Mansfield Park, but going barefoot, even with the brace in place, seemed too presumptuous for a first date.
But was it really a date?
Grace chanced a look at Jack and eyed his jeans and polo shirt. She was certainly glad that she’d made the choice to keep things casual. She would have looked foolish if she’d dressed up. Sadly, despite what he’d said earlier about her being beautiful, it was becoming more than obvious to Grace that Jack considered this outing a friendly meal...or worse, a business dinner.
“Jack the Third!” a gruff voice disturbed Grace’s thoughts.
A giant of a man burst forth from a set of swinging doors and headed their way.
“Paul Bunyan!” Grace blurted out before she could stop herself.
The giant guffawed, and the sound of his laughter echoed off the tin bait cans perched on a ledge that encircled the room. Grace could only hope that they were not filled with worms or crickets. She shivered. Playing on a theme was fine with her, but she hoped that the fisherman’s fancy had ended there.
“Not quite, little lady.” He grabbed a couple of menus from a cubby in the wall and slapped them onto the counter as he continued talking. “But I’m headed there.” He gave his belly a pat then held out his hand to Jack.
Jack grasped the man’s hand, then found himself pulled into a hug.
“Come here, young fellow, and give this old man a hug.”
“How are you Max?” Jack gave the man a spine-thumping pat on the back then turned toward Grace. Before he could make the introduction, the older man had already latched onto her, carefully avoiding the arm encased in a sling.
“And who is this fine-looking filly?” he asked.
Taken aback at the reception, Grace could only stand there with her mouth hanging open.
“This is Grace,” Jack said. “Grace Woodhouse, meet Max Monroe.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Monroe,” Grace greeted the man. “So, you’re not Jerry?”
“Naw, that was my Daddy. And you can call me Max, pretty lady.” The man gave Grace a closer look. “Is this Paul Woodhouse’s young’un?”
“She sure is, Max.” Jack nodded. “Paul bought the old retirement home east of town, and Grace is here to set things straight.”
“You don’t say.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “Well, I’m not sure a pretty little thing like you should worry about getting your hands dirty at that old place. From what I hear, it’s a mess.”
“Was a mess,” Jack corrected him. “Grace has made quick work of getting things in order.”
“With Jack’s help,” Grace finally found her voice. “He’s my contractor.”
“Well, you won’t find a better one in three states,” he assured her as he flashed a gapped-tooth grin which Grace found absolutely adorable.
“Please, Max.” Jack grabbed the menus and headed toward a large dining area. “You’ll give me the big-head.”
“Not a chance of that,” the older man said with a shake of his head. “You’re one of the finest young boys around these parts.” He glanced at Grace. “Why, any woman would be lucky to snag you for her fella’.”
“Enough with the matchmaking, Max.” Jake motioned Grace toward a table at the back of the room. “What’s today’s special?”
“Spicy grilled,” Max answered. “Of course, we’ll fix whatever you two decide on.”
“Thank you, Max,” Grace smiled. “It may take me a minute to decide.”
“Sure thing.” He started walking away. “I’ll just grab you two some sweet tea. Be back in a jiffy.”
Once Max was out of earshot, Grace turned to Jack.
“Is he for real?”
“What do you mean?” Jack laughed at her expression.
“The mountain man act,” she explained.
“It’s no act, Princess,” Jack smiled. “Max is the real deal. He’s rich as Midas but as down to earth as they come. Born and raised right here in Manhattan.”
“Honestly, it’s amazing how he just latches right onto you. You’re hooked from the get-go.” She glanced around the room and gave an apologetic grin. “Pardon the analogy.”
“It’s right on the money,” Jack agreed. “Max is definitely one-of-a-kind. If you hang around long enough, you’ll probably get to know him even better. He’s a member down at the Community Church, and he’s always got some sort of project going on there. As a matter of fact, it was Max who led me to the Lord my first year in college.”
“Really?” Grace asked. “I figured you were one of those little kids whose head barely bobbed above the water in the baptismal pool.”
“And here I was thinking the same thing about you, Gracie,” Jack kidded. “But seriously, I had always thought I was a Christian. I always went to church with my parents, and I wasn’t that bad a person. Unfortunately, God’s Word didn’t dwell in my heart the way I had always been told that it should.”
“I know what you mean,” Grace nodded. “I’ve been a Christian since I was twelve, but I never knew that God had a plan for my life. That I could actually do something for His kingdom.”
“That’s where Max was such an influence on me,” Jack told her. “I came up here to work with Gramps that summer and got involved with Max’s housing ministry. God really convicted me of the sin in my life, and I finally gave my heart to Him.
Max and many of the people in his church were a great source of guidance for me.”
“They sound like they are truly dedicated to the ministry. I’ll have to visit there.” Grace smiled. “I’ve been so sidetracked with my injury and the work and the center that I’ve neglected my spiritual health.”
“I can show you where the church is located on the way back to your place. My grandparents and I still attend there. We could even save you a seat,” Jack joked.
“Thanks,” she nodded her head. “I’d appreciate it…I think.” She gave him a wary look and was rewarded with one of his amazing smiles.
“It’s a great place, Gracie,” he assured her.
They exchanged small-talk for the next several minutes, but by the time Max returned, Grace had moved her attention from Jack to the captivating scene outside the window of the restaurant. Past a weathered deck lay a lazy mountain river that disappeared into a thick forest of pines. She leaned her head closer to the open window and heard the soothing rush of water.
“Thank you,” Grace accepted the glass of sweet tea. “You have a beautiful place here, Max.”
“Thank you, little lady,” he said as he handed Jack his drink. “Have ya’ll decided what it’ll be yet?”
“I’ll have the spicy grilled,” Jack answered.
“And I’ll try the fried catfish,” Grace said without an ounce of guilt.
“Hush puppies?”
“Of course!” she laughed. “Is there any other option?”
“Not for me,” he grinned, “But with so many of those fancy pants coming up from Atlanta, we have to cater to their whims, too. Portobello this and eggplant that. I can barely keep up with the trends.”
“I really have very simple tastes, Mr. Monroe,” Grace told him with a smile. “I’m sure whatever you bring will be outstanding.”