As she waited for the coffee to brew, she knew she would never have considered it settling ten years ago. Back then, she would’ve felt like she’d won the prize pumpkin if Ryan had proposed to her. She would’ve triumphantly taken him home and shown him off to everyone. Indeed, that was what she’d always wanted to do—but she’d never gotten the chance.
As she poured her coffee, she wondered if she had truly stopped loving him. Or was she simply deluding herself? Was love something that you could turn off and on like the coffeemaker? Or was she still so hurt by him that she couldn’t get past it? As she took her coffee out to the front porch, she really didn’t know.
Sitting in the rocker, she pondered this. Was she so accustomed to shutting down her feelings, or to concealing them, that she no longer knew how she felt? Was it possible to stifle yourself so much that you completely lost touch with your genuine emotions? If so, had she done it? And if she’d done it, was there some way to undo it? Maybe she needed to go see a shrink. Or write another letter to Dear Daphne.
She formulated a letter in her head.
Dear Daphne,
I am afraid I have been so wounded by love that I have completely shut myself down to experiencing true love again. I’m worried that even though I’m only thirty-four, I may never be able to love sincerely—from my whole heart. It feels as if my heart was permanently ruined all those years ago. Please, tell me if there is any hope for me. Or will I be forced to remain shutdown and single for the rest of my days?
Hopeless on Huckleberry Lane
Daphne was caught off guard when a silver BMW pulled into her driveway, and then, to her surprise, Jenna hopped out of the passenger side carrying an oversized bag. That’s when Daphne remembered her promise to spend time with the young author today. As she stood to greet her, a petite woman with short wispy blond hair got out of the other side, peering curiously at Daphne.
“Hello,” the stylishly dressed woman called out in a breathless sort of voice as she approached Daphne. “I’m Gwen, Jenna’s mom. It’s so generous of you to talk to Jenna about her writing. I’d stick around, but I have an appointment that I’m already running late for.” She checked the sleek platinum watch that looked too big for her slender wrist. “Please, forgive me for dropping her off and dashing away.”
“No problem.” Daphne smiled. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with your daughter and it was nice to meet you.”
“And I’ll pick you up before noon,” Gwen told Jenna.
Then she turned away, and as quickly as she’d come, she was gone. Daphne was a little surprised. Somehow she had figured Jake’s wife would be different than the soft-spoken pretty woman she’d just met. Or maybe she’d just hoped she would be someone a little more dislikeable. Gwen seemed perfectly sweet. Kind of like cotton candy.
“Your mom is pretty,” Daphne said as they went inside, then instantly wished she hadn’t because it seemed such a lame sort of comment.
“Uh-huh.” Jenna just nodded.
“So, did you bring your writing with you?”
Jenna held up her bag. “It’s in here.”
“Great. Why don’t we take it to my office?”
They got a chair from the dining room and soon they were settled in her office, where with Daphne’s encouragement, Jenna pulled out her laptop and began to read a short story she’d recently created. She’d written it in the perspective of an abandoned cat, which was actually quite interesting.
“That was wonderful,” Daphne told her after she finished.
“Really?” Jenna asked hopefully. “You honestly liked it? You’re not just being nice?”
“I honestly liked it, Jenna. It’s very good.”
Jenna let out a happy sigh.
“I love that you wrote from the cat’s point of view. You made me really believe that the cat was telling the story. That was very clever.”
“Do you know how I can improve it? I want to get it as good as possible to enter in a short-story contest for high school kids. The deadline is next week.”
“Well . . .” Daphne rolled her chair over to look over Jenna’s shoulder. “There might be some things you could tighten. And I think you might’ve gotten mixed up on some of your verb tenses. You hopped from past to present a few times.”
Together they went over it, fixing and tweaking until Daphne felt it was as good as it could possibly be. “I don’t consider myself a short-story expert,” Daphne told her. “But if I was judging the contest, I’d be impressed with this.”
Jenna looked at the clock on Daphne’s bookshelf. “Is that right?” she asked with a worried expression.
Daphne looked up, surprised to see that it was nearly one. “Yes, it’s right.”
Jenna hurried to save her work and close her laptop, then shoved it into her bag. “I need to call Mom.” She pulled out her phone. “I’m supposed to babysit for my aunt this afternoon. Mom was going to take me.” Jenna hurried out of the office, and Daphne could hear her talking, but it sounded like she was leaving a message and then another. Finally she came back with a worried look. “My aunt would come get me, but she’d just put the kids down for a nap and—”
“Why don’t I give you a ride?”
Jenna gratefully accepted and soon they were on their way to the other side of town. As Daphne drove, Jenna explained that her aunt lost her husband last fall. “Uncle Jason had served in Iraq but came home with really bad PTSD. No one likes to talk about it, but my dad told me that he took his own life. And Aunt Bonnie just got this part-time job this summer, so I’m trying to help with the babysitting. Because she’s really tight financially, you know.”
“That’s generous of you.” Daphne sometimes heard people complaining about teenagers, saying how they were all so entitled and spoiled. But Jenna and Mattie seemed to have escaped that stereotype.
It turned out that Aunt Carrie lived in the same neighborhood Daphne had grown up in, and after dropping Jenna at a ranch house very similar to Daphne’s childhood home, she decided to go by and pay her dad a visit. But when she got to his house, she saw a prominent open-house sign with red and blue balloons planted right next to the for-sale sign. Suddenly she felt disoriented, as if this house no longer belonged to Dad. Spotting Karen’s bright yellow Mustang in the driveway and some lookers inside, Daphne drove on past. Dad was probably playing golf today. Or maybe he was already getting settled into his new condo at Green Trees. She would see him later.
At home, she spied what looked like Jake’s car in front of her house. She pulled into the driveway and went around to find Jake knocking on the front door with an urgent expression.
“Hello?” she called out as she walked up to the porch. “Can I help you?”
“Oh, there you are, Daphne. I’m here to get Jenna and we need to hurry—”
“I just dropped her off at her aunt’s house.”
“Oh, good.” He nodded with a relieved look. “Thank you for doing that. I got Jenna’s message and then my sister called too. I came as quickly as I could.”
“She thought her mom was picking her up at noon,” Daphne said cautiously.
“Yes, I know. Gwen was supposed to pick her up. But Gwen, being Gwen, probably got distracted with her own life.” He shook his head. “Happens all the time.”
“Oh . . .” She didn’t know what to say.
“Sorry.” He made a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to burden you with my personal problems.”
She tilted her head to one side. “You have personal problems?” she asked in a slightly teasing tone. “You always seem so together to me. I wouldn’t think you’d have any problems.”
He laughed. “Right. I’m divorced and I have a teenaged girl. I have absolutely no problems whatsoever.”
She smiled. “It does make you seem more human.”
He frowned.
“You think I’m not human?”
“No, no . . . that didn’t come out right.” Just then she noticed a car slowly approaching, but as it got closer, she realized it looked like the same silver BMW that had dropped Jenna earlier. “Is that Gwen?”
He turned to look as she parked in the driveway. “Yep. That’s her.”
Looking flustered and worried, Gwen hurried up to the porch. “Where’s Jenna?”
“Daphne took her to Carrie’s,” Jake calmly told her. “Hopefully she wasn’t too late since it’s Carrie’s first month on the job.”
Gwen glowered at him. “Your sister should find a regular babysitter instead of relying on Jenna all the time. It’s not fair.”
“Carrie doesn’t rely on Jenna all the time. Besides, Jenna likes helping her with the kids.”
“Carrie takes unfair advantage of Jenna’s generosity,” Gwen snapped back at him.
“Carrie’s had a rough year,” he said quietly. “Jenna realizes that.”
Although Daphne already felt invisible and completely unnecessary to this awkward conversation, she was quietly backing up and hoping to slip unnoticed into the house, in order to give these two their privacy as they hashed out their differences on her front porch.
“Carrie takes advantage of me too,” Gwen continued hotly. “I’m the one who has to chauffeur Jenna back and forth, catering to Bonnie’s every beck and call.”
“Don’t forget that I give Jenna rides too. I came here today for Jenna.”
Daphne had her hand on the doorknob and was about to open it.
“Anyway, thank you, Daphne,” Gwen said loudly. “Forgive us for making a scene in your front yard.”
Daphne released an uneasy smile. “No problem.”
Then without saying another word, Gwen turned and marched back to her car. She noisily started it, then backed out so quickly she spit gravel beneath her wheels.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Why was she so angry?” Daphne watched as the silver car streaked down Huckleberry Lane. She hoped no children were playing in the street.
“That’s Gwen.” He held up his hands. “Sometimes she’s so sweet that sugar wouldn’t melt in her mouth and other times, like you just witnessed, the claws come out and it’s best to just lay low.”
“Does she have a chemical imbalance?” Daphne knew it was none of her business. Except that Gwen had just thrown a hissy fit right in front of her.
“She sees a psychologist. But so far the only thing they’ve come up with is that Gwen’s got a lot of hostility from her childhood.” Jake had such a sad expression that Daphne felt sorry for him.
“If it’s any consolation, you seem even more human to me now.”
He flashed a half smile.
Now she decided to show him some hospitality. “I’m thirsty. Would you like some iced tea or lemonade or something?”
“I’d love some iced tea,” he said.
“Make yourself comfy and I’ll be right back.” As she went inside, she wondered why she’d brought up her silly comment about seeming human again. She knew what she’d meant by it, but it sounded wrong.
She returned with their iced teas and sat in the chair opposite him.
“So, you were saying before we were interrupted by that unfortunate scene that you didn’t think I was human. . . . Why was that?”
“I didn’t say you weren’t human.” She took a slow sip. “At least that’s not what I meant. But I suppose because of the role you play with Aunt Dee’s estate, I tend to see you as this slightly rigid authority figure. You know, sort of like how you regard the principal when you’re in grade school.”
“But why would you see me like that?”
“Because you have all the power. It’s like you get to make the rules and you tell me what to do and—”
“Wait a minute.” He held up one hand. “That’s not fair. It was Dee who made the rules. Not me. I just have to enforce them.”
“So instead of a principal, you’re more like a policeman then, the enforcer?”
A slow smile crept onto his face. “Okay, I guess I can see how it might feel like that to you.”
“It’s just that it’s so hard for me to forget the condition that seems to be hanging over me. It’s like this time clock is ticking, ticking, ticking.” She shook her head. “Already more than a month has passed. And I haven’t made any progress.”
“No progress?” He looked doubtful. “How exactly do you describe progress, Daphne?”
She shrugged. “I haven’t been asked out on a single date. Small as that seems, it would feel like progress.”
“Hey, you’ve got a lot of available men flocking about you.”
“That depends on how you define available.”
“If a man is single, I’d say that makes him available. And don’t forget I even tried to ask you on a date.”
She had nearly forgotten that awkward moment. And now it was back again, staring her straight in the face. “Yes . . . that’s right.”
“Although I’ll admit it was a rather halfhearted attempt on my part. But that was just because I’m uneasy about dating a client.” He took a sip of tea. “And then there was that concern you had about my ex, whom you’ve now had the pleasure of meeting.”
She took another sip, wishing he’d change the subject.
Instead he set down his glass and peered curiously at her. “Although I’m still a little confused. What was up with that anyway? What made you think Gwen and I were getting back together?”
“Oh, I’d heard something. Something that made me think you and Gwen might give your marriage another try.”
“I swear, Daphne, that is not happening. You just saw my ex. Do you honestly believe we have a future?”
“I don’t know. But it’s possible she’s just hurt and lashing out like that to hurt you back.”
He just shook his head.
“Besides I really do believe that a marriage commitment should be a forever thing. Like until death we do part.”
Feeling uncomfortable, she decided to change course slightly. “Although I’m well aware that I’m no expert on love and marriage. I should probably keep my opinions to myself.”
“Don’t be so sure. You sounded like an expert in the Dear Daphne column you sent me.” He grinned. “I didn’t want to gush the other night, but I was really impressed.”
“Thanks. Maybe Aunt Dee is helping me somehow.” She didn’t want to admit to having read a Penelope Poindexter book or how that seemed to ignite her writing. They sat quietly for a couple of minutes, with only the sound of birds chirping and children’s voices in a yard down the street.
“So back to me being the enforcer . . . the cruel timekeeper,” Jake spoke slowly, “ticking away the months, weeks, days until you tie the knot and inherit Dee’s estate.”
“Something like that.”
“I’m the man behind the scheme that threatens to ruin your life.” He shook his head. “That’s too bad.”
“Sorry.” She ran her finger down the condensation on the tall glass. “It’s just that it’s a lot of pressure, you know?”
“I did try to convince Dee to do it differently.”
“Why didn’t she listen?”
“She was Daphne Delacorte. She thought she knew what was best for you and your love life.”
“How was that possible? What made her an expert on me?”
“Life . . . experience.”
Daphne didn’t get this. “But she was a spinster.”
“Maybe I didn’t tell you that your dad’s father—your grandfather—he was the love of Dee’s life.”
“Then why didn’t they just get married and live happily ever after?”
“Because she never told him she was pregna
nt. She believed he loved her and she wanted him to propose to her out of true love—not because she was expecting his child.”
“Oh . . . and he didn’t?”
Jake shook his head. “He broke her heart when he didn’t. But she was too proud to tell him the truth, that she was having his baby. Instead, she broke off contact with him. She had the baby and, well, you know the rest of that story. But after she returned to college she discovered it was too late.”
“Too late?”
“For her and her true love. Because by then he was engaged to one of her friends.”
“Oh, poor Aunt Dee. I never knew that.”
“She spent a long time regretting not telling him about the baby. She felt that was the great mistake of her life.”
“Because maybe they would’ve married . . . and been happy?”
“Maybe. As it turned out, he died in World War II anyway.”
“So it’s like do as I say, not as I do. She didn’t marry but insists that I must?”
“She wanted you to marry for true love, Daphne. Don’t forget that. She never wanted to pressure you into marriage just for the sake of marriage. She simply wanted to pressure you to tune into your heart. She hoped you would allow yourself to fall in love.”
“What if I don’t know how? What if I’m so broken that I can’t figure it out anymore? It might be too late for me.”
He looked concerned. “Do you really believe that?”
Determined not to cry, she blinked back tears, but since he knew so much about Aunt Dee—and he was the only one who knew about the conditions of the will—she decided to fully open up to him. Suddenly she was telling him all about Ryan and New York and how he’d broken her heart and how much she’d loved him and how it had taken her ten years to recover from the pain.
“Dee suspected it was something like that,” Jake said.
“And now—Ryan shows up out of the blue. And after a couple of days, he suddenly asks me to marry him.” She was trying to keep the emotion out of her voice, pretending she wasn’t nearly as disturbed as she felt.
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