The Pursuit of Jesse (14 page)

The moment Carl’s sister, Grace, appeared at the door, the church erupted in quiet whispers.

“Skinny ugly duckling turned into a skinny swan…”

“…looks terrible…never was as pretty as my Gail.”

“…that designer, Jeremy Kahill…”

“…thought they were divorced.”

“Separated is what I heard.”

“…after the accident…”

“…said she might move back to Mirabelle.”

On and on and on, the whispered speculation continued. Sarah shook her head and glanced at Hannah. “Oh, for crying out loud, so she’s a famous model. So what?”

“You’d think she was a princess.”

The woman was wearing a black turtleneck dress and small black hat with netting that came down over her face. Large, dark sunglasses completely hid her eyes, and her long, curly blond hair, the model’s trade
mark, came forward to hide her neck and cheeks. She looked far too secretive to Sarah. And sad.

Her husband, a world-famous designer in a beautifully cut black suit, walked next to her. They couldn’t be divorced, or separated, not as attentive as he appeared. Grace had hooked her hand through the crook of one of his arms and seemed to be almost leaning into him.

“She’s beautiful,” Missy whispered. “Much prettier in person than in her photos.”

“How can you tell?” Sarah murmured. “You can barely see any part of her.”

“Just look at her profile,” Missy whispered. “No wonder she’s one of the highest-paid models.”

“God, I wish I had her posture,” Hannah mumbled. “So regal and confident.”

“I wonder how Carl’s doing,” Sarah said.

“I think he’s holding it together,” Jonas whispered. “But John isn’t doing very well.”

“Is he staying here the rest of the winter?”

“I think so.”

The service began and a hush fell over the crowd. Sarah felt her gaze, more often than not, settling on Jesse. He was easy to spot, standing as he was on the other side of the church. More than once, she found him watching her. Before she knew it, the service had ended and everyone was filing out of the church. She and Jesse ended up meeting at the door.

“Hi,” he whispered.

She smiled. “It was nice that you came even though you don’t know the family well.”

“Carl’s a good guy, but it’s been a while since I’ve been to a funeral.” As they walked outside, he pulled a hat over his head and tugged on his gloves.

She slipped on the ice and he grabbed her arm.

He glanced down at her high-heeled black leather boots and grinned. “Pretty, but what happened to your mukluks?”

She chuckled. “Are you coming to the cemetery?”

“No. Don’t feel like I know the family well enough. You?”

“Yeah.” For some reason, she felt she needed to apologize for the way a few people had snubbed him before the service started. “Hey, um, you know…the Setterbergs—Jan, I should say—can be a bit…”

“Who?”

“The people who got up and…then Shirley Gilbert—”

“Not sure what you’re talking about. Say, have you found an electrician yet?”

He didn’t want to talk about it. Could she blame him? “No, but I’ve made a few calls.”

“You want me to—”

“I’ll find one. Promise.”

“Okay. See ya.” He headed down the sidewalk toward Garrett and Erica’s house, and Sarah found herself wishing she could go with him.

“A
THOUSAND DOLLARS A DAY
?” Sarah said, frustrated. “Just because the job is on Mirabelle?”

She was on the phone with the fifth and last electrician Garrett had recommended for the work needed to be done on her house, and all of their stories and costs were similar. They were busy with other construction projects and her job was too small for any kind of price negotiation.

“You gotta remember almost half the first and last days are taken up by travel time,” the electrician from Ashland said. “Which means I’ll have to stay overnight on the island, and I’ll have to hire a helicopter to get me there and back. I’m not crossing that ice this time of year. Too risky.”

The ice had already started softening, but Garrett maintained it was still safe.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. If you can wait until June when my father-in-law gets back from Texas, he’ll be able to take care of this for a more reasonable price.”

“I can’t wait until June.”

“Well, then,” the man said, sighing. “There is someone else.”

“Who?”

The electrician hesitated before giving her another man’s name and number. “He might be more in your price range.”

“Thank you.” She called the other number.

The phone rang several times before a man’s raspy voice finally sounded over the line. “Yeah.”

She explained the situation and was happy to settle on a price within her budget and timing that worked for Jesse. She’d no sooner hung up the phone than the doorbell rang.

Brian dropped his gaming controller to run across the room. “That’s gotta be Zach!”

“Is he coming for dinner?” Sarah asked as she ground fresh black peppercorns into the bubbling pot on the stove.

“Can he?”

“Sure.”

As good of a cook as Erica was, Zach surprisingly wound up eating at their house more often than not. Apparently, from a kid’s perspective, Sarah’s plain cooking of things like macaroni and cheese, hamburgers and hot dogs, beat out the likes of grilled sea bass and prosciutto-wrapped scallops any day of the week. There was no understanding a kid’s palate.

Sarah glanced up as Brian opened the door. Zach stood on the landing, but it was the tall frame of his uncle standing behind him that sent an immediate shock of awareness to her gut.

She wasn’t prepared for this. Dressed in an old thermal Henley and her rattiest pair of jeans, not to mention her hair up in a haphazardly gathered ponytail, she’d been expecting to go up to the house after dinner to paint. Entertaining a visitor, especially Jesse, hadn’t been on the agenda.

The boys ran into the family room and immediately immersed themselves in some video game, leaving her and Jesse in her entryway.

“Hi.” She wiped her hands on her jeans as she walked toward the door. “What’s up?”

His gaze seemed to travel all over her in an instant, and he cleared his throat. “Did you get the note I left you up at the house about painting the kitchen?”

“Um, no.” The part of her that couldn’t help but want him couldn’t help but be disappointed that he hadn’t simply come to see her.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. The kitchen will be easier to paint if you do it before I install the cabinets. The cabinet installation is a two-man job and I have Garrett lined up to help me next week.”

“Then I’ll make sure and get the walls painted this weekend.”

“One more thing—”

“Why don’t you come in?” It was freezing outside. The wind was whipping in off the lake, blowing the light snow that had fallen during the day into small drifts on her deck.

“That’s okay. I—”

“Come on. It’s too cold to stand out there with the door open.” She tugged him inside and closed the door.

“Can Jesse stay for dinner, too, Mom?” Brian called.

“Um…I’m not sure we’ll have enough.”

“You always make extra,” Brian said.

She did, given she was never sure whether or not Zach might show up at the last minute, but then she was used to boy-size portions, and a man the size of Jesse could likely pack it away.

“Besides, I’m not that hungry,” Brian said.

“Neither am I,” Zach added.

“That’s okay, boys.” Jesse shook his head. “Thanks anyway. I’ve got—”

“Please stay.” If they were truly starting over, it was up to her to extend the first olive branch. “The least I can do is feed you to thank you for going above and beyond on our house.”

“Yeah, well, you’re paying me for that. Remember?”

“We’re supposed to be friends. Remember that?” She held his gaze, smiling slightly. “But then I don’t want to force you to do anything you really don’t want to do. This isn’t prison, you know.”

At that he chuckled. “Dinner sounds great. Thank you.”

“It isn’t anything special. Knowing Erica, she’s whipped up something absolutely divine tonight. This is just some homemade chicken noodle soup.”

“Sounds great.” His eyes brightened and he slipped off his jacket. “No wonder it smells so good in here.”

“Right.” She put her hands on her hips. “Erica’s not cooking tonight, is she?”

“Nope.” He grinned. “She’s at the pub.”

Sarah laughed. “Well, we wouldn’t want you to have to make something yourself.”

She quickly glanced around, wondering what he’d think of her apartment. Although the space was small, she’d used the areas well, partitioning off the family room from the kitchen with a large sectional sofa. Since she rarely had guests other than Zach, she’d never bothered with a kitchen table, preferring to have the boys eat at the counter instead.

The moment Jesse came into her small kitchen, the room seemed to shrink to half its size. He didn’t seem to mind being in such close proximity to her, but his
nearness was making it a little difficult for Sarah to catch her breath.

“I think this is the brightest apartment I’ve ever seen,” he said. “I like it.”

“Comes in handy during the dreary days of winter,” she said, pulling four heavy red bowls from the cabinet. “Missy always teases me that the place looks like a Mexican restaurant.”

Jesse laughed.

A couple years ago, sick of the various hues of tan she’d chosen when she’d first moved to Mirabelle and this apartment, she’d redecorated with bright, cheery colors. She’d painted the walls a combination of red and white and accented with royal blue and apple green. Orange and yellow.

“I’m ready for a change.” For the house she was sticking with more neutral, muted browns, greens and coral tones and accenting with deeper, bolder colors.

“I think I like the choices you’ve made on your house better, but you definitely have an eye for color.”

“Good attribute for a flower-shop owner and wedding planner.”

“Can I help with anything?”

“Everything’s under control. If you want something to drink, help yourself to whatever is in the fridge.”

He opened the door, peered inside and pulled out a cola. Despite the initial awkwardness, there was something surprisingly comforting about having Jesse here. Something homey and right-feeling. Aside from Ron Setterberg making repairs as her landlord, Sarah couldn’t remember ever having had a man in her apartment. It wasn’t as if she ever dated.

Hannah dated all the time, especially in the summer months when school was out and the island was crawling
with tourists and fishermen. Missy had dated occasionally before Jonas had shown up on Mirabelle out of the blue. Erica had been married to Garrett within several months of coming to Mirabelle. And Natalie? Their summer friend who ran the camp for disadvantaged kids on the remote side of the island had apparently dated more men than she’d been able to count before falling head over heels in love with Jamis, the island’s resident hermit. Sarah, on the other hand, hadn’t been out with a man since Bobby.

Almost ten years ago.

Too long.

But then that’s what happened, she supposed, when a woman didn’t trust herself, didn’t trust her judgment in men.

“Jesse, come and play with us,” Brian called.

“Yeah,” Zach said. “You always say you’ll play video games and then you never do.”

He glanced at Sarah.

“Go ahead. The soup’s not ready yet. And I really should make another client call.”

“She’s always on the phone with clients,” Brian muttered, keeping his head focused on the TV.

Jesse frowned. “Yeah, okay, I’ll play. As long as you quit giving your mom a hard time.” He walked into the family room and grabbed a controller.

As she picked up the phone and made her last call of the day, she heard Jesse say, “Being a single parent is hard. Your mom’s on her own, taking care of you, running her own business. Cut her some slack, man. Better yet, help out without being asked. If you did more around here, she’d have more time to spend with you.”

Although she couldn’t hear Brian’s mumbled re
sponse, she smiled as she wrapped up the conversation and hung up the phone. “Soup’s on,” she called.

“Okay, we’re saving the game,” Jesse replied.

Then he came into the kitchen and sat down at the counter. She set a bowl of soup in front of him. “Want some bread? Salad?”

“No, thank you,” he murmured, dipping his spoon into the steaming broth. “This is going to be perfect all by itself.”

“Zach and Brian, you guys coming?”

The boys joined Jesse at the counter and a light conversation ensued revolving around the boys. Soon the discussion turned to Jesse’s progress on the house. In no time, the boys finished eating, hopped down from their chairs and headed toward the family room.

“Hey, boys,” Jesse said.

They turned.

He glanced down at their dirty dishes. “Didn’t you forget something?”

Brian shook his head and grinned, then he came back to rinse out his bowl and put it in the dishwasher. Zach followed suit. “Anything else we can help with, Mom?” Brian asked, surprisingly sincere.

“Thank you, but I’ll get the rest. You two go back to your game.” They took off and she smiled at Jesse. It was nice having someone at her back. “Thank you.”

“No problem. It’s easy for me. I’m not mom.”

“So what are you doing tomorrow night, the night after that, and so on?”

He chuckled as he scooped out the last of his third bowlful. “That was really good.” Then suddenly he was next to her, rinsing out his bowl in the sink.

Close enough that she could feel his heat. Too close. “Um…was there something else about the house?”

“Yeah, I almost forgot.” He stepped back, as if he, too, was uncomfortable. “I need you to decide on a fixture for over the island in your kitchen.”

“I didn’t do that with Garrett?” She’d picked out so many things during the preparations for this remodeling project that she couldn’t remember.

He shook his head. “I’m going into Duluth with Garrett tomorrow for some supplies. You want to come along and pick something out?”

“Can’t.” She grimaced. “I have three conference calls lined up with brides.”

“Want me to pick up a light fixture for you?”

She held her breath. She’d labored over the house decisions. Stain and paint colors, cabinet pulls. Carpet. Window treatments. On, and on, and on. She’d painstakingly chosen everything herself. Garrett might design and build beautiful furniture, but she’d found he was terrible in pulling together all the pieces that went into home decor. Did she want to take a chance on Jesse being any better? “Can the kitchen go without a fixture until I can get to Duluth?”

“Sure. Or you could order something online. Or…you could trust me to pick something out.”

Trust him. With something as important as her house.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll take it back. No harm done.”

Of course, he was right, and, to a degree, she was already trusting him with her house. “Sure. What the heck? Pick something out and surprise me.”

“Do you have any pictures of what you might be looking for? A brochure you might’ve picked up from the home-supply store?”

“Now that you mention it, I do. Downstairs in my flower shop. I’ve got a home file.”

She told the boys they’d be back in a few minutes and opened the door to the stairs leading down to her shop. Jesse followed her through the back entrance to her flower shop. She flicked on a light to reveal a tightly arranged back workroom and storage area.

“So this is it?” he said. “Your business.”

She glanced around. “Yep. This is it.”

One wall of shelving was packed with supplies, there were several coolers for the extra flower stock she’d have in the summer months that were empty and turned off. A work island sat in the center of the room with a couple of stools around it. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was organized and clean.

“That file is in my desk out front.”

He followed her out into the retail part of her shop. “You should be proud of yourself, Sarah. A single mom, building her own business. Supporting yourself and Brian. Even buying a house.”

She was proud, but it was still nice of him to make the comment. “Thank you.” She pulled the file out of her desk and quickly flipped through all the invoices and brochures she’d gathered these past few months. “Nice place.”

The front was as different from the back room as night from day. This was where she visited with wedding clients and made sales to the public. With dark woods and granite, she hoped the area felt updated and classy.

“Your store looks like you,” he said.

“Does it?”

He nodded.

There was a counter with a register for flower sales,
but it was the desk and workspace occupying about a third of the front area that seemed to capture his eye. The trappings of a wedding planner. Wedding magazines and books on floral arrangements filled a small bookcase. There were three-ring binders filled with wedding invitations, cake designs, place settings and menu selections.

“So with all this wedding planning you do, what will your wedding be like?”

“Who says I’m ever getting married?” She found the brochure on lighting fixtures, pulled it out and tucked the rest of the house file back into her desk.

“Okay, so if you ever get married, what would your wedding be like?”

“Simple. About as simple as it gets. I’d elope.”

“A wedding planner eloping.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t sound quite right.”