Sound Advice (Sensations Collection #1) (13 page)

“What ever happened to Sarah?”

“She married the next guy; he was the mayor of some city for a while.” Nana laughed at the history.

“Nana, would you ever consider moving to Chicago with me, so we could be together?”

“Well, honey, why would I move to Chicago when we are together now?” Nana asked with a quizzical look on her face, and I felt it was one of the few moments she was absolutely lucid in her thoughts.

“You scared me last night, Nana,” I admitted honestly.

“Oh, pish-posh, honey. I was just sleep-talking. I bet I saw old Joe next door in that uniform and it scared me out of my dreaming, but not out of my sleep.” Nana laughed again at herself.

“Nana,” I sighed. “I’m serious.”

Nana’s face grew serious as well.

“I am not leaving my home, Emily. If you need to return to Chicago, so be it, but this is where I plan to spend my final days.”

I was too tired to argue and too scared to continue the conversation. I felt out of my league trying to convince an eighty-something year old woman that she was a danger to herself over a man who was already dead. For some reason I thought of my mother, how this should be her responsibility, how she should be alive, and handling this issue.

“Nana, I don’t have to leave yet. I think I’ll stay for a while longer, if you’ll let me.”

“Of course, dear. Of course. Sweet on someone, are you?”

“No, Nana.”

“That George next door is a looker. And a lawyer. Which reminds me, I have something for you. It’s in the top drawer of the highboy in the dining room. You have worked so hard around here and I heard you’ve been working with that little dumb girl.”

“Nana, she’s not dumb. She just won’t speak.”

“Yes, dear, they call it dumb.”

“Not anymore, Nana.”

I stood to search through Nana’s desk drawer. When I opened the drawer of the cabinet in the dining room, I found two concert tickets to Interlake, a private music school training students for professional musical careers. The performance was in a few nights, and I hadn’t been to Interlake in years. I knew Nana liked to support the arts and received the annual calendar of events from the school for live concerts and special performances. She must have bought the summer-season pass, because she had four other unused tickets from past shows in the drawer. For some reason, I immediately thought of taking Jess, then laughed thinking he would never go to something formal like this:
A Night of Frank Sinatra
. Never.

“Nana, why don’t you go with me?” I asked.

When accepting an invitation to a party, always bring a gift as a sign of appreciation for the host or hostess.

“Matters on Manners,” 1973

I SAT IN the back enclosed, screened porch after Nana went to bed that night. The window latches allowed the windows to open only a few inches high, and I felt relieved, but not safe enough to leave Nana alone and attend the party for Jess. Not to mention, arriving alone to a party where I would not really know anyone didn’t sound appealing. It wasn’t like Jess asked me to go to the party with him. He just invited me to attend.

I thought about the dark-haired woman from the bar the first night I’d gone into town. No one ever mentioned a girlfriend for Jess, and he never mentioned one either, but then again, it’s not like it came up in conversation. It didn’t mean, however, that he didn’t have someone special in his life.
A man needs to be satisfied
, my last boyfriend had told me after he cheated on me with numerous women.
Well, so does a woman
, I thought as I took a large sip of the wine I’d poured myself. Sitting in the low light of the porch, I toasted the air.
Happy Birthday, Jess
, I thought and took another sip.

Jess Carter was a good-looking man in a dangerous, rugged sort of way. The long sandy hair with the ponytail and bandana really made him different from people I would normally associate with in Chicago. On the other hand, the chiseled face and intense eyes were striking against his tan skin. His overall appearance made me think Hollywood material. I recalled what George had said the night outside the bar. “No one denies Jess Carter.” I pondered the reputation Jess must have had in high school – before he left town. I thought about my grandmother’s story. Jess probably had plans for his future and dreams of a different life at one time.
Big dreams and good looks, or good looks and big dreams?
Nana’s old friend Sarah had to have been like Debbie, Jess’ ex-wife. Did Debbie ever care about Jess’ dreams? I wondered what those dreams might have been and if Jess ever thought of them now.

Lost in my thoughts, I heard a noise on the gravel driveway. I assumed it must be an animal scavenging through the night, so I jumped when I saw the outline of a man standing outside the screen. I stood up quickly ready to defend myself.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” said a familiar voice, slightly slurred.

“Jess?” I approached the screen door and noticed a handful of rocks in his hand.

“You planning on breaking and entering or something?” I spoke in a hushed whisper as I unlatched the wooden door.

“No, I was going to throw them at your bedroom window.” He let the pebbles fall to the ground and I smiled.

“You didn’t come to my party, so I brought the party to you.”

I laughed softly.

“Are you alone?” I looked around the dark yard behind him.

“Yes,” Jess said, sounding more serious. “Very alone,” he whispered under his breath.

“Come in.”

The soft light on the side table only highlighted the end of the outdoor loveseat I had been sitting on, and I sat back down in the circle of light before looking up at Jess, who still stood.

“I brought you a piece of cake. And a present.” He held up the cake on a plate wrapped in plastic and a brown paper bag.

I giggled. “It’s your birthday. I should give you a present.”

“Like what?” he said slyly, and those blue eyes danced with a merriment I’d yet to see from him.

I only smiled in reply. He handed me the brown paper bag, which held a bottle of wine.

“Remember? You wanted some at the Mueller’s and we all looked at you like you were crazy.”

“I’m so thrilled you remember my shortcomings.”

“I had it at the party for you, but you didn’t show.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

“Sit down.” I commanded, a little disgusted with my midnight company. I put the cake and the brown-bagged wine on the glass table before me. When Jess sat next to me, I could feel warmth coming off his body, which was unexpectedly close to my own.

“What are you doing here?”

“I told you. You didn’t come to my party.”

“No, really, Jess?” I cut him off with my serious tone. He sighed deeply and rubbed a hand down his face.

“You were so sad this morning. I couldn’t get you out of my head all day. But I need you out of my head, Emily. Can you please get out?”

I remained silent.

“You need help here,” he added.

“I’m fine.”

“Really? You don’t seem fine.”

“I just don’t know what to do, but it will come to me.”

“Let someone help.”

“Who? I’m alone here, but I’m used to being alone. It’s fine.”

“Don’t you want to be
better
than fine?” He threw my words in a question at me. Then he continued. “You’ve helped me. Let me help you.”

I considered how sweet he sounded. And how drunk.

“How? You have family and friends here. You have lots of help. You don’t need me.”

“Maybe I do,” he said softly to the floral seat cushion as he ran a hand slowly up and down the faded fabric.

I had to grip the armrest to prevent my hand from reaching out to his. I couldn’t decide if I found his movement annoying and needed to stop it or if I found the motion seductive and wanted to touch him. We had been physically close before at the library, but he was never as relaxed as he was now.

“Jess, tell me something about you. Do you have any dreams?”

“Nightly,” he smiled shyly.

“No, I mean dreams as in plans. More than here and now.”

“This is too deep for me tonight.” He leaned forward to stand, struggling but making it to a half-upright position before I put my hand on his forearm to stop him, not able to help myself.

“Don’t leave me, yet.”

He sat back down with a thud.

“Big dreams?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. His jaw clenched and he looked at me, aware that I’d noticed the tense movement in his face. His head lounged on the back of the loveseat and he blinked up at the ceiling fan that rotated slowly in the still night air.

“I always thought I wanted to be an engineer. Electrical engineer. I’m good with my hands, hence the handyman jobs. And I love to tinker with things. Take them apart, see how they work, and put them back together.”

“Did you just say ‘hence’?” I laughed.

“Yes, us small town boys know us some big words too,” Jess mocked with his Southern drawl imitation.

“Anyway, I’ve been home over a year and I’m not so sure electrical engineering would have been the right move for me after all. I love Sound Systems and doing the repair work. As for the handy work, I make my own hours and everyone needs home improvement help, especially the summer-folk and the rentals. I make decent money and I have Katie to think about. Two jobs doesn’t sound ideal, but it keeps me busy. Keeps me from thinking too deeply.” He smiled when he rolled his head to look at me. I noticed a hidden dimple in his relaxed state.

I stayed silent a moment longer and I could see he was debating whether to keep talking or not. He rolled his head back to focus on the ceiling fan.

“When Debbie left, I was angry at her for squashing my scholarship and ruining my potential career. I hate to leave things unfinished, but sometimes I think she did me a favor. I like it here. This is my home. It’s pretty in the summer and, well, pretty damn cold in the winter, but I’m still my own person.”

I thought about his words.
Still my own person.

“What about you?” he interrupted my silence.

“Oh, I always wanted to write The Great American Novel. One day a friend asked me why it had to be great and told me to just write, but I guess I sort-of fell into the publishing business with the magazine and it pays the bills. I work with really nice people and I have some flexibility, which is helpful considering Nana right now, but I’m not sure corporate America, nine-to-five, is for me.”

“You sound like you were always sure of yourself.”

“Sometimes yes. Sometimes no. Sometimes I see the path clearly. And other times, I’m scared because I know I’m off course, like now with Nana.”

“I know what you mean,” Jess mumbled.

We sat with our own thoughts for a moment. The night was quiet with the soft whirl of the fan, the music of crickets chirping, and the sound of cicadas singing. A frog croaked and a car drove down the street out front.

“I feel like I’m in high school,” Jess mumble.

“You do? Why?” I laughed.

“I feel like I’m on a date and I don’t know what to say.”

“I thought you only dated Debbie.”

“I didn’t and I don’t want to talk about Debbie right now if you don’t mind.”

“Okay.” I put my hands up to surrender.

“Where were you when I was in high school?” Jess questioned me with a lopsided smile on his lips and that dimple peeked out further.

“Oh, I was too good for you, remember? Riding around with my bikini top,” I said snottily, shaking my chest a little foolishly. Thank goodness he wasn’t looking directly at me.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“You did and it’s okay.”

“So when are you going home?” He blurted out.

“Wow, don’t hold off on the small stuff.”