“If I get a chance. . .” Travis tried to make his reply as vague as possible, knowing Craig would shoot him if he told Bella the truth before she signed the contract.
Jena, however, didn’t look satisfied with the implied promise.
“Listen, don’t worry.” He touched her arm, a gesture of reassurance, but a tiny thrill passed through him when he learned her skin felt, indeed, quite soft. “I’ll. . .I’ll take care of it. I’ll explain about last night, okay?”
A small worry line marred her auburn brow. “Are you feeling all right, Travis?”
“No! I think I’ve gone crazy!”
“Oh, is that all?” Jena laughed, breaking whatever spell he’d fallen under.
“You sound like your friend Star,” he muttered, leaving the kitchen. If there was one thing in this world he abhorred, it was a sarcastic woman.
In his office, he straightened his clothes, combed his hair, grabbed his briefcase and suit coat, then made his way toward the back door.
“See you tonight,” he said, walking through the kitchen.
“Bye, Travis. Have a good day.”
Jena’s soft voice plucked a chord in his heart, one he’d never heard or felt before—even when Meg was alive. Every day this week, with the exception of last night, he had felt like he’d entered some kind of storybook fantasy where everything was perfect and wonderful. It was a world where delicious smells wafted from the kitchen, laundry never piled up, and children were always clean and happy.
He shook himself. I have gone crazy.
❧
Gazing out the window, Jena lifted her coffee cup to her lips and sipped. She saw Travis kiss Mandi and Carly goodbye before walking into the garage. He sure acted strange this morning. Maybe he just had a lot on his mind. She only wished Star hadn’t put those silly thoughts in her head about Travis “looking at her” in some romantic way because she could almost swear that’s what he did this morning.
The phone rang, and Jena moved to answer it where it was stationed on the wall near the back hall. “Larson residence.”
“Is Travis gone?”
“Um, just leaving now. Who’s calling please?”
A feminine laugh. “It’s Bella Minniati. How’re you this morning?”
“Fine. Thanks.” Jena tried to tamp down the feeling of impending doom. “Do you need to speak with Travis? I’ll try to catch him.”
“No, no, I want to talk to you, Jena. I just don’t want him in the vicinity while we converse.”
That’s what she was afraid of. Oh, dear God. . .
“Jena, I might be blond, but I’m not stupid. I could sense some odd undercurrent last night, and I want you to tell me what was going on. I think you were about to tell me while we were at the dinner table. Am I wrong?”
“No. . .but Travis said he’d rather be the one to discuss the matter with you.”
“I see. Are you two having marital problems?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that.”
“I didn’t think so. You two are adorable together. But I thought I’d nip that suspicion in the bud.”
Jena squeezed her eyes shut in a tight grimace.
“Well, I really don’t want to wait for Travis to tell me. I’d like to hear it from you. I’m not trying to be nosey. I’m just. . . concerned.”
“Oh, Bella, I really shouldn’t be the one to tell you.”
“But you will tell me, won’t you? You’re my sister in Christ, and I have a hunch whatever is going on involves me and this contract business.”
“Yes, you’re right. And that’s why Travis needs to speak to you.”
A long pause. “Jena, I’ll tell you a piece of truth if you tell me a piece of truth. Deal?”
“Okay. . .” She didn’t see another option out, other than to hang up on Bella and maybe ruin whatever hope remained of her signing with Travis’s law firm.
“I’ve always thought that Travis was an okay guy. But now I actually like him since I met you and those two darling girls.”
At the mention of Mandi and Carly, Jena went up on her tiptoes and glanced out the window to make sure they were all right. Seeing the little ones sitting inside their square, wooden sandbox near the fence, she returned her attention to the phone call.
“But I must say, Jena, I trust Craig Duncan about as much as I’d trust a rattlesnake. The man appears harmless enough, but I have a feeling he’s got a venomous bite.”
“Good analogy.”
Bella’s laugh was as smooth as expensive chocolate. “Thank you. I take it you agree?”
“Wholeheartedly. But, of course, it’s none of my business.”
“What? You’re Travis’s wife. Of course it’s your business.”
Jena’s heart hammered in her chest. “Okay, my turn for a piece of truth. I’m not Travis’s wife. I’m his summer girl.”
“His what?”
“Summer girl. He hired me to take care of his kids for the summer.”
“You’re a nanny?”
“Well, yes, but, no. I hate that title. Except, I suppose that’s what I am. . .for the summer.” When there was no reply, Jena continued. “It was all Craig Duncan’s doing. He lied, thinking that somehow our being married would impress you, and Travis didn’t want to expose his rattlesnake partner in front of guests, so he begged me to go along with it for the night. Trust me, I didn’t want to, but. . .well, I felt kind of sorry for Travis, being in that awkward position because of Mr. Duncan.”
The silence at the other end was deafening. “Bella, please believe me when I say I’m so sorry for the pretense. My conscience bothered me into the wee hours of this morning.”
“So am I correct in assuming that only the part about you and Travis being married is a lie?” Bella asked. “The girls are Travis’s and he’s a widower?”
“That’s true.” Jena felt like a two-ton weight had just been lifted off her shoulders. “And Star is a friend of mine, and she really needs a job for the summer. She’s excited about the catering possibilities.”
“I see.”
“Bella, I’m so, so sorry.”
“You’re a Christian? That part’s true?”
“Yes, but I probably don’t seem like much of a testimony for Christ right now.”
“On the contrary. I admire your tender spirit. I felt like you and I sort of connected last night.” She paused. “Tell me. Is Travis a Christian?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Mm. . .Joe and I wondered.”
Jena heard the other woman inhale deeply.
“Tell you what,” Bella began, “let’s keep our Sunday morning date, shall we? I like you, I forgive you for your part in last night’s charade, and I think those two girls are so scrumptious I could eat ’em up.”
Jena smiled. “I agree. Mandi and Carly are sweeties. And, in Travis’s defense, I have to say, he’s a very loving father. He’s also extremely generous. He’s given me a car to use, he leaves me money for whatever the girls and I might need, he’s polite and he doesn’t talk down to me—which is pretty amazing considering he’s a lawyer. . .”
Bella chuckled, sounding genuinely amused.
“I mean, I know all attorneys aren’t arrogant,” Jena promptly amended, “but I thought Travis was at first. I’ve learned he’s really not.”
“Okay, you sold me on his attributes.” Bella laughed again. “I forgive Travis too.”
“But I don’t know if he’ll want to come on Sunday.”
“Hmm. Well, if he doesn’t, then you can’t very well bring him kicking and screaming. But I’d like you to come—and bring Mandi and Carly.”
“Okay.”
Jena nibbled her lower lip in consternation. Sunday was technically her day off. However, she didn’t think Travis would mind her borrowing his daughters—
Unless, after he heard she’d blabbed the truth to Bella, he fired her first!
Twelve
Travis loosened his tie as he drove back to that enchanted new world ca
lled home. He had called Jena on his cell phone and found she didn’t need groceries or anything else. The girls had been fed and bathed and were now watching some Bible story video they had checked out at the library.
Bible story videos. . .they sure beat the kind of television Glenda used to watch. Pulling into the driveway, Travis parked and decided Meg would be pleased the girls were being introduced to the Bible. In fact, Meg would probably like Jena.
Travis walked through the yard, noting all the toys were put away. When Glenda was here, the place was such a disaster he’d be lucky if he didn’t kill himself on the way to the back door. And the house. . . The house always looked as though Hurricanes Mandi and Carly had blown through every room.
What a change, he thought, entering the immaculate kitchen. He paused to inspect the fresh flowers in the center of the table.
“Hi, Daddy!” Mandi pranced into the kitchen, looking like a little princess in her pink nightie.
“Hi, Baby,” Stooping, Travis hugged and kissed her. “Where’s Carly?”
“Sleeping on the couch. She didn’t have a nap today ’cuz Miss Jena took us to the beach. On the way back, we bought those,” she said, pointing at the colorful bouquet. “Do you like ’em?”
“Yeah, they’re pretty.” Travis stood. “What’d you eat for supper?”
“The stuff Miss Star made yesterday.”
Mandi said the name so fast that Travis didn’t catch it. He frowned. “Mister? Mister who?”
“No, Daddy, Miss Star.”
“Oh, is she here?”
Mandi shook her head.
Good. Travis had had such a hectic day that he didn’t feel like dealing with Mary Star Palmer’s antics tonight. All he wanted to do is change into his blue jeans and unwind in a lawn chair outside.
“Hi, Travis, did you have a good day?”
He smiled as Jena entered the room. “It was okay.” He’d lost the Baily case, but that had been expected. Now came the appeals process. In two sweeping glances, he scrutinized Jena from head to barefooted toe. “You look about as pink as Mandi’s nightgown.”
“Yeah, I know.” She examined her arms. “I took the girls to the beach today but didn’t bring along enough sun screen. By Sunday, I’ll be one giant freckle.”
Travis grinned and stepped closer. “Did you wear that to the beach today?” he asked, noting she wore the same outfit as this morning.
“No, of course not.” Confusion pooled in her blue eyes.
He smirked. “I just wondered since I’ve never seen you wear anything but a dress.”
“Oh.” She shrugged, still looking baffled.
No wonder Star goads her. Jena’s awfully fun to tease.
Travis flashed a charming smile while brushing past her on the way to his office. Tossing his attaché case on a nearby chair, he flipped through the mail.
“Hey, Travis?”
“Hmm?” He glanced up to see Jena at the doorway.
“After the girls are sleeping, can I talk to you about something. . .something important?”
The trepidation in her voice put him on guard. Sitting on the corner of his desk, he set down the mail and folded his arms. “What’s up?”
“I’d rather wait until Mandi and Carly are asleep to discuss it.” She smiled. “But I’m not quitting, so don’t get your hackles up. Although. . .” A worried little frown suddenly dipped her one eyebrow. “. . .you might not want me working for you when you hear what I have to say.”
Travis wanted to hoot at the comment, but he refrained only because she seemed troubled. “Jena, I highly doubt there’s anything you could tell me that would cause me to let you go. You’re doing a great job. You’ve brought normalcy back to my home. In fact, after three years it finally feels like a home again.”
“That’s. . .that’s nice to hear,” she said with a pleased grin. “But just hold that thought until I get the girls to bed, okay?”
Travis chuckled and picked up the stack of bills and miscellaneous correspondence. “Okay.”
❧
After reading Mandi a story, Jena turned out the light and proceeded to the first floor where she scouted around for Travis. She finally found him in the courtyard, stretched out on one of the two padded lounges and reading the newspaper as the sun began its nighttime descent.
“The girls are just about asleep.”
“Great.” Travis folded the paper in two and set it on his lap. He still wore today’s white dress shirt, its sleeves rolled to elbows. He’d removed his tie and exchanged his classy trousers for faded blue jeans. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”
Jena sat down in one of the plastic lawn chairs. She’d been rehearsing this all day, but now when it came time to tell Travis about her confession, words suddenly escaped her.
“Did you wreck the car?”
Jena’s eyes widened. “No!”
A small grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Did you nick it, bang it, or dent it, and now you’re scared to tell me?”
“No.” She couldn’t help a chuckle. “That I wouldn’t have trouble telling you.”
“Oh, okay.” He pursed his lips, appearing amused.
But he wouldn’t be for long.
“Bella called this morning, right after you left,” Jena blurted.
“Oh?” The tone of his voice hung between them like a threat.
With flutters dancing across her midsection, Jena crossed her leg and toyed with a small snag in her jumper. She swallowed hard. “Bella sensed that something was amiss last night and. . .well, I ended up telling her the entire truth.”
Travis swiveled in the lounge chair, and glancing at him from beneath her lashes, Jena saw his navy and white athletic shoes when he set them on the cement ground. He leaned forward, his forearms on his knees, but his expression was indecipherable.
“What did Bella say?”
“She said she doesn’t trust Craig Duncan.”
“Oh, great.” Travis ran a hand through his hair.
“But she likes you, and she still wants us to come Sunday. I told her I didn’t know if you’d be willing to attend church, and she said in that case I should come without you and bring the girls.” Jena cleared the sudden frog in her throat, spawned from Travis’s penetrating gaze. “Sorry,” she croaked.
“Anything else?”
She shook her head, sensing Travis’s infuriation. But that’s what she expected. Nevertheless, she felt the need to explain herself. “If I blew the big contract for your firm, I humbly apologize. On the other hand, I couldn’t tell Bella a boldface lie. I mean, going along with things last night was one thing—”
Travis held out a forestalling palm. “Say no more. I understand.”
“If you want to end my employment here—”
“No, no. . .I meant what I said earlier.”
“Okay.” She stood. “Well, it’s after eight. . .”
“Fine. Consider yourself off duty.”
He studied his clasped hands as he spoke, and Jena decided he was deep in thought—probably trying to figure out how to tell his pretentious partner that his summer girl had a big mouth.
“Travis, I know it’s none of my business, but. . .well, I don’t like Craig Duncan. I think Bella has an accurate opinion of the guy.”
He glanced up at her, one eyebrow cocked. “You’re right, Jena. It’s none of your business.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She felt like she’d just been slam-dunked. But in the next moment, she figured she had it coming. She’d been Travis Larson’s employee for six days. She was the hired help and hardly entitled to pass judgment on his business partner.
“Sorry.”
Jena crossed the courtyard and ran up to her apartment. She felt somehow wounded, she wanted to cry, and yet she believed in her heart she’d done the right thing this morning on the phone with Bella. She’d told the truth.
Deciding to drown her blues in a strong cup of java, she walked to the kitchen and opened the cupbo
ard. Only then did she remember that the coffee was in Travis’s kitchen.
With a frustrated groan, she closed the cupboard doors and ambled to her room. By the time she reached it, she’d made up her mind to walk to that little coffee shop she had seen on Oakland Avenue. Since the village of Shorewood was only one square mile, Jena figured she could walk there and back.
Moving to the dresser, she pulled out a pair of black walking shorts and put them on. She winced as they chafed her sunburned legs. Being more careful now, she removed her jumper and hung it in the closet, exchanging it for a short-sleeved cotton black shirt with sprays of tiny yellow, red, white, and lavender flowers. She layered it over the white tee she wore. After threading a belt through her shorts, Jena donned a pair of white sport socks and slid on her white athletic shoes. In the bathroom, she brushed her hair and glided a headband into place. She squirted lotion into the palm of one hand and gently applied it to her face. I’m so pink I put Star’s favorite shade of lipstick to shame.
With a sigh, she figured there was nothing more she could do in the aftermath of a sunburn, and she slung her small purse over her shoulder and left the apartment. She felt relieved that Travis no longer sat in the courtyard. Taking a deep breath of the evening air, she felt herself begin to relax as she began her trek up Shorewood Boulevard.
❧
Up in his bedroom, Travis sat on the edge of the bed, mourning the framed picture of Meg that he found lying broken on his dresser. He knew just when it had happened too—this morning when Mandi had playfully jumped on him. He could buy another frame, that wasn’t a problem, but somehow the shattered glass above his Meg’s smiling face seemed like the final barrier between them. A ridiculous notion, of course, since his wife had been dead over three years now. Nevertheless, he couldn’t explain away the sudden sense of permanence that enveloped him.
Meg wasn’t coming back.
She was gone forever.
Sniffing back and swallowing the sorrow that crashed down around him every so often, Travis stood and headed for his dresser again. In doing so, something caught his eye, and he glanced out the window.
Jena. . .
An undefined emotion twisted in his chest, and he had to fight the urge to holler out the window, “Wait! Don’t go!”
Summer Girl Page 8