by Leger, Lori
“Mom, can he come with us?” Lex pleaded.
Giselle climbed inside the truck. “Sure he can, I just didn’t know if he could handle five females at one time.”
He grinned. “How can I pass up a challenge like that?”
She buckled her seatbelt and smiled. “I guess you can’t, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. We’re picking up Emmelia on the way.”
Within ten minutes, they’d corralled the four boisterous little girls into the local seafood restaurant. Giselle brought them to the restroom to wash their hands before sending them back out to the table. She’d gone into one of the stalls when the door opened and someone occupied a stall at the end. The door opened again and two women walked into the restroom. She immediately recognized the voices of Suzette Simon and Isabelle Allen, neither of them high on her list of favorite people.
Isabelle, or Izzy, as she insisted people call her, had never missed the opportunity to throw herself at Toby. She’d even made a pass at him at a Christmas party two years earlier. This particular town tramp had a reputation for chasing married men, and getting them. With the help of a few weak willed men, she’d instigated the breakups of more than a couple of marriages along the way. Giselle remained in her stall, hoping they’d leave soon.
“Who is that fine hunk of man with Giselle Granger tonight?” Suzette asked.
“I don’t know, but you can bet your ass I’m going to find out. My God, he is gorgeous, isn’t he? One thing’s for sure, that tramp didn’t wait very long before throwing herself at another man, did she? Poor Toby’s only been in the ground for five months.”
“Honestly, I don’t know what he ever saw in her,” Suzette said. “He could have done so much better.”
“Uh huh—like me!” Izzy’s high-pitched cackle bounced off the walls. “I would have worn Toby down eventually. He was just beginning to show some interest. What a waste. Let’s go, Suz. There’s a Bloody Mary with my name on it at the club.”
Giselle sat in silence as the two women walked out. She didn’t need to look in the mirror to know her face was on fire. Her stomach knotted with tension as she left the stall and approached the sink. She washed her hands and took a moment to splash her face with water.
Just when she thought her humiliation could not be more complete, the door of the last stall opened. Jeanette Ross, Amanda’s motherin-law, approached her, her face flushed with rage.
The other woman washed her hands then gave her a hug. “Honey, everyone in town knows how happy you and Toby were together. He never would have looked twice at Izzy, I hope you know that.”
Giselle nodded. “I know that, Jeanette.”
“Don’t you dare waste one tear on those two tramps, now come on.”
Giselle walked out in front of Jeanette, just in time to see Izzy exit the restaurant, wearing a barely-there top and a come-and-get-it mini-skirt. She thanked God for small favors, knowing she wasn’t up to facing either of the women. They approached the table where Jackson sat with the four girls.
“That’s my Granny!” Emmelia stood to hug Jeanette.
“It is?” Jackson stood immediately. “You must be Joe’s mom. I’m Jackson Broussard.”
“Yes I am, Jeanette Ross. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard good things about you. I’d talk longer, but I’ve got to get my husband back home now. Emmelia, you be a good girl for Giselle.”
“Yes ma’am, I will.”
Before leaving the group, Jeanette gave Giselle a comforting pat on the shoulder.
She tried her best to have fun, but felt self-conscious about everything Jackson said or did for the remainder of the night. She pushed her grilled shrimp around on her plate, until she finally set it aside, and asked for a ‘to go’ box.
Tired of dodging Jackson’s curious glances, she nearly cried from relief when they finally got up to leave. Completely distracted, she nearly walked off without her purse. When Jackson handed it to her, she thanked him quietly and remained silent during the drive home.
Back at her place, Jackson helped her to unbuckle the girls. She clamped her jaws tightly as Lexie pleaded with him to watch the movie with them. His decline had her shoulders sagging in relief.
“I appreciate the invite, Lex, but I have to work tomorrow.” Whining their disappointment, the girls hugged him and ran into the house with their friends.
Giselle murmured a low volume goodbye and tried to close the door. She had no choice but to face him when he put an arm out to keep it from closing.
“Something happened in that restaurant,” he said. “Did I do something to upset you?”
“No, it wasn’t you. I can’t talk about it right now,” she said, fighting to control her emotions.
“We’re friends, Giselle…Talk to me,” he pleaded.
“Go Jackson, I’m just a little emotional, that’s all.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Thanks for supper, Goodnight.” She closed the door softly in his face.
Still confused fifteen minutes later, Jackson answered his ringing cell phone to speak to Carrie.
“Jackson, how was Giselle when you left her?”
“Not good, and I have no idea why. She went into the restroom with the girls, and when she came back, she was on the verge of tears. She was nervous and distracted the rest of the night. I don’t know what happened.”
“I do. I got a phone call from Jeanette, Joe’s mom. She told me about something they overheard in the restroom.”
Once he heard what had upset Giselle, Carrie had to convince him not to go to her.
“Jackson, trust me, she won’t want to see you right now.”
“I have to call her.”
“Let me talk to her first. I just didn’t want you thinking you’d done anything wrong. I’ll call and let you know what’s going on.”
“Call me soon, Carr. I’m already going crazy.”
“I will.”
Giselle turned toward the tapping on her bathroom door.
“Open the door, honey.”
She reluctantly opened up the door to let Carrie in then turned quickly away from her.
“I know what happened at the restaurant,” Carrie said. “Jeanette called me, furious with those two tramps. You are not going to let what they said ruin your night, are you?”
Giselle stared at her own reflection in the mirror, puffy-eyed from crying, and feeling foolish.
Carrie got a wash cloth out of the cabinet, wet it with cold water, and handed it to her. “Here, put this over your eyes—it’ll help.”
Giselle took the wash cloth and met her friend’s gaze. “Is that what people are saying? That Toby’s only been dead five months and I’ve already moved on?”
“The only two people that have said it are the ones you overheard in that restroom, and they’re the two biggest tramps in Kenton. You know, of course, that Toby never looked at Izzy Allen.”
“I know that, but Jackson hanging around as much as he does, coming to the girls’ games. People may think…”
Carrie released a sigh rife with exasperation. “Damn, but you are determined to feel guilty about something, aren’t you? Those two men are here to help your girls through a bad time, and I think they’re doing a wonderful job. Jackson has his own issues to deal with, so maybe helping your girls is helping him. He didn’t have it easy, you know. He had to learn the hard way just how little his wife cared for him.”
“I know that, we talked about it at the park.” Giselle stood and wiped her eyes. “Carrie, this has made me see things from another viewpoint. I can’t be seen anywhere alone with Jackson Broussard or any other man, even if he is just a friend. You know gossip in this place spreads like wildfire. I won’t have people thinking I loved my husband so little that I’ve moved on and left him behind already. The way I feel now, I may never move on. Toby was the only one for me.”
Carrie placed her hands on Giselle’s shoulders. “You two had a wonderful relationship, and it would be the sincerest form of flattery to Toby if you were
to remarry. He’d want you to find that happiness again, hon.”
“I can promise you it won’t be anytime soon. I’m still so much in love with him.”
Carrie nodded. “I know you are. All I’m saying is, one day you may decide you have feelings for someone else. If it happens, don’t push him away because of some misguided feelings of loyalty to Toby…he wouldn’t want that. Now, I’ve got to go home. I have to work in the morning.”
Giselle stood up and rinsed the wash cloth again. “I suppose you’re going to call Jackson so you can tell him everything that we discussed?” Giselle and Carrie’s gazes locked in the mirror.
“I won’t if you call him. He’s worried sick about you.”
“I guess I’ll do it—it’s the least I can do.”
“Don’t wait too long to call.”
“I’ll do it as soon as you walk out the door, I promise.”
As soon as Carrie left, Giselle picked up the phone and dialed Jackson’s number. As proof of how upset he was, he answered on the first ring.
“Hello.”
“It’s me,” she mumbled.
“Are you alright?”
She heard the anxiousness in his voice. “I’m better, but, I’ve made a decision and I don’t want you to think it’s because of anything you’ve done.”
“I’m listening,” he said, bracing himself.
“Look, Jackson, you and Bill are welcome to spend as much time with the girls as you want, but I think I need to distance myself from you for a while. I can’t have people thinking…things like that about us.”
“Giselle..I wasn’t trying to..it wasn’t a date or anything. It was just a meal…with four little girls,” he stammered.
“We both know that, but in small towns like this, people gossip. It’s better this way.”
“What about the ballgames and their birthday party?”
“You’re welcome at the games, and the party is still on.” She heard the relief in his voice.
“Thank you, Giselle. I’m sorry you were upset, but thanks for calling.”
She knew he assumed that very little would change, but by the time Lexie’s game rolled around on Thursday, he discovered the truth of the situation.
Giselle refused his offer of a ride and drove to the next game. She sat in the stands next to Gretchen and Lauren, and spoke to him only if he asked her a direct question. She made sure she was never alone with him, and the easy camaraderie they’d developed seemed to vanish overnight.
After a solid month of hurt feelings and frustration, Jackson finally spoke to Carrie about it.
“When is this going to end? I feel like I’ve lost another friend.” He walked over to his window and stared out of it, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his slacks.
“This is temporary, Jack. She doesn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea. As time passes it’ll get easier.”
“Easier for her, but more difficult for me,” he growled, then stopped to roll his sleeves up over his bulging biceps.
“Good Lord, have you been working out?”
“With no Toby for basketball, no Chloe to chase after, and Giselle avoiding me like the plague, working out is all I have.” He turned to face his friend. “You don’t know how bad I dread the end of baseball season.”
“Maybe you should slow down a little.”
“I can’t. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane.”
“You need a hobby,” she commented. “Get a dog.”
“I don’t want a dog,” he snorted. “I have decided to build a patio deck, though, and I ordered a motorcycle.”
“What’d you order—a Harley?”
“Overdone and screams middle aged crises. I went with America’s first motorcycle.” He turned to Carrie and froze at her horrified expression. “What’s wrong?”
“Please tell me you didn’t order an Indian,” she managed to spit out in a hoarse croak.
Jackson cocked his head to the side. “Yeah, but how do you know about Indian motorcycles?”
“My dad had one a long time ago. It was second hand but from what Mom said, he loved that damn thing.” She released an anguished groan and slapped both hands to her head. “Do you realize what you’ve done to me?”
He gazed at her in confusion. “Apparently not.”
“Sam has wanted one for years!”
“I know…that’s where I got the idea.”
“You knew that. And you ordered one anyway,” she said in dry tone. “Some friend you are.”
“Am I missing something?”
“I’ll never hear the end of it. My husband is going to whine endlessly for one just like yours. He’ll bitch and complain until he wears me down and I tell him to buy one just to shut him up. You men and your expensive toys.”
Jackson splayed his hands in front of him. “You just told me to get a hobby.” She sighed in seemingly reluctant acceptance before she turned to exit his office.
“Why didn’t you just get a damn dog?”
“Too much trouble,” he called out, before she gave one last snort of disgust.
The Saturday before the girls’ birthday party dawned bright and sunny. Jackson and Bill were halfway to Mackenzie’s tournament in a nearby town when Jackson got an unexpected call from Giselle.
“My truck won’t start,” she said, sounding frantic. “I tried to call Sam, but I can’t get a hold of him, and everyone else is either on vacation or at the tournament already.”
“Sam and Carrie are in Gardiner for the day, I know that for certain,” he told her. “It’s probably just the battery. We’re only a few minutes from you, so just hang tight.”
Jackson lowered the hood of her truck. He placed the dead battery in the bed of his pick-up, then turned to her. “If you ride with us to the tournament, we can pick up a new battery for you and install it when we get back later this afternoon.” He reached inside his truck for a package of wipes to clean his hands. “You should be safe enough,” he muttered, as he sent her an accusing glare. “Bill will be with us the entire time.” It came out sounding sharper than he meant, but he wasn’t about to apologize.
Giselle stiffened her back as she pushed Lexie ahead of her to his truck. “Thank you, we’d appreciate the ride.”
To Jackson’s satisfaction, Lexie insisted that ‘Paw Paw Bill’ sit in the back with her. He watched Giselle, tight-lipped, and stone-faced as she slid into the front seat.
“I guess it’s a good thing I sent Mac along with Gretchen this morning,”
He nodded, but remained silent as he put the truck in reverse, and backed out of the driveway. He attempted to ignore the furtive glances Giselle sent his direction. They got as far as the end of the city limits before he confronted her. “Is there a problem?”
Giselle had noticed the difference in Jackson the second she’d seen him. He’d always had good muscle tone, even more so at the towel incident when she’d lost her good sense. But now his arms, neck and shoulders bulged with added bulk—far more definition. He hadn’t neglected his lower body, either. His muscular thighs strained against the material of his shorts. She should know. She’d been stealing covert glances at him since he’d arrived at her door. Adonis has been working out. She tore her gaze from him, stared straight ahead, put into play every method she knew to regulate the rapid pounding of her heart. Deep breaths, Giselle. In and out. Slow and steady.
“Giselle?”
“No problem. I was just-I was wondering how you’ve been, is all. I haven’t talked to you in forever, it seems.”
Jackson stared ahead at the road. “Only doing what you asked,” he mumbled. “But I’m all right. Trying to stay busy.”
She heard Lexie and Bill talking excitedly about the upcoming birthday party. “You need help with the party?”
He kept his eyes on the road. “Nope, Bill has everything under control.”
“I made them hold it down to twelve invitations each. That, along with Carrie and Sam’s family, adds up to a lot of people
invading Bill’s property.”
“He’s been looking forward to this for months. He’s as excited about it as the kids are.” Jackson glanced at her then turned back toward the road.
They got to the ballpark and found the field where Mac’s team was playing. The previous game hadn’t ended yet, and Mac, Allie, and Gretchen were standing off to the side of the bleachers, waiting for their team to take to the field.
“Aw hell, I forgot the chairs in the back of the truck,” Jackson growled before turning back to get them.
Giselle turned to follow him. “Do you need some help?”
“No!” he said sharply, stopping her in her tracks.
She was still standing there, watching him walk back to his pick-up when Gretchen joined her.
“Has Jackson been working out?” the twin asked, as she stared at his retreating form.
Bill crossed his arms and grunted. “It seems like every time I call him, he’s at the gym.”
“Who do they play this morning, Gretchen?” Giselle asked, wanting to change the subject. Jackson’s new physique had affected her more than she wanted to admit, even to herself.
“Eunice, and they’re good, too. That’s the team that beat everyone yesterday.” She looked up as her twin sister, Lauren, walked over with Gage and Ava, carrying her own chairs. “There are Lauren and the kids,” she said.
Lauren walked up to them and dropped her folding chairs on the ground then reached over to give Bill a hug. “I just saw Jackson on the way back to his truck. He’s definitely been working out!”
Bill chuckled. “He’s trying to stay busy—I guess it keeps him from thinking about things too much.”
“Here he comes,” Gretchen said, as they all turned to watch him. He walked up, loaded down with at least six strapped bags containing folding chairs, no sign of breathing hard or breaking a sweat.
“Who wants a chair? I brought everything I had.”
“I’ll take one,” Gretchen said. “Let’s set them up under the tree for some shade.”
Jackson set the chairs in a line and sat down in one on the end. After everyone else had taken a seat, Giselle took the remaining one next to Jackson. He got up immediately to go to the concession stand. He came back with several bottles of water and passed them out, then whispered something to his uncle. Bill stood and moved to the far end next to Giselle and Jackson sat in the chair he’d vacated.