Sound Advice (Sensations Collection #1) (19 page)

I should have been more embarrassed, though, that I stole out of my own home.
Wasn’t it the man who leaves like a thief in the night?
In this case it was I who crept from the bed for an early morning run, hoping he would be gone before I returned. I didn’t know how he left Katie for the night, although I assumed he had some arrangement with his mother since they lived with her. I didn’t even want to think about whether Jess did this often or with whom. Without even thinking directly about him, I could feel him pressed against me, his hands still on my side, my hip, my neck.

I sat in a low sand chair I found in Nana’s dilapidated garage and shook my head.
What an idiot
, I thought to myself.
I need to stop thinking, period
. I struggled to listen to the gentle roll of the waves. Closing my eyes, I took several slow breaths of the fresh air and let the cool breeze relax me under the warmth of the sun. Even though I could hear children laughing and occasionally hear people pass by me, I drifted into that type of hazy relaxation where you know you are not exactly asleep, but you aren’t really awake either. It was sort of a heavy dream state and my mind wandered over images of Nana from my childhood.

Baking in the kitchen.

Washing dishes at the sink.

Reading books on the porch.

Folding laundry in Nana’s room.

Laughing at something said.

Weeding through the garden.

It was in recalling these memories that I heard a noise next to my chair. I rather smelled him – musky and sexy - before I fully opened my eyes, and for one moment thought he had entered my dream state. The manly smell of a day’s work in the sun was too strong and too real to be part of the images in my mind, and I opened my eyes with a start as I looked to my left. He was sitting next to me. Not looking at me, but staring out at the slow rolling waves of Lake Michigan.

I didn’t know what to say, yet I felt I should apologize. Unfortunately, I wasn’t exactly sure what to apologize for: the way I held onto him, the way I reacted to his kiss, or the way I responded to his body against mine. He seemed to sense I was struggling and he looked down at my hand gripping the white plastic arm of the chair. He gently loosened my grip and held his palm flat under my hand. I spread my palm as if to place my fingers in between his when he pinched his fore finger and thumb around my pinkie and began to trace it.
Up to the tip and back to the base
. His forefinger slipped between my pinkie and ring finger, following the same rhythm.
Up and back
. He repeated the motion over my middle finger, index finger, and thumb.
Up and back. Up and back. Up and back.

When he was done he turned my left hand over, and traced letters into my open palm. It took a moment to realize what he was spelling.

I.D. O. N. T. H. A. T. E. Y. O. U.

He paused when he was done, and my hand began to tremble in his gentle grip. It was so intimate and intense, and dare I admit almost seductive. With a shaky right hand, I grabbed my sunglasses out of the cup holder and covered my eyes, knowing that tears were welling up.

In an instant he was kneeling in front of me in the sand, gently forcing my knees apart so he could be between them, and leaned closer to me. He reached for the sunglasses, but I pulled back slightly with my head and he stopped.

“Don’t hide from me.”

A tear escaped from under my glasses and rolled down my check. If I thought he would mistake it for sweat, I was wrong. He gently wiped it with the tip of his finger.

“What did I do wrong?” he questioned with a quiet, concerned voice.

Another tear escaped.

“Nothing. It’s just me. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t know what to do about Nana’s…stuff.”

Another tear crept under the rim of the glasses, but this one I hastily brushed away myself.

“You’ll figure it out. Believe me.”

He paused for a moment to stare at me, but sunglasses shielded anything my eyes could betray.

“You okay?” His concern added to my emotional wreckage at the moment.

“Yeah.”

“I gotta go get Katie.”

I nodded my head in understanding. He used the arm rests to push himself up to standing, and my gaze followed him, taking in the pulled back hair, the tanned ripple of abs, and the low slung cargo shorts. I held in the sigh I wanted to turn into a moan of aching lust. His appearance was dangerous; dangerous in a way that I knew would lead to broken hearts.

When Jess walked away, I realized I had no idea how he knew I was at the beach. I had walked the few blocks from Nana’s house, so there was no car to give away my location here. Sadly, I recalled there was no Nana to tell him my whereabouts. With the shock of my question, I turned to watch him stroll away. His back was even more sun-kissed then his front and I could see the waistband of his underwear peeking out of his shorts. He carried his shoes in his hand and the toned muscles of his legs flexed with each step. As I stared, he turned back, looked at me with a forced half-smile, and I saw his jaw do that clenching thing.

Nothing feels like organization more than cleaning out the closet. One never knows what he or she will find that might have come back into fashion or freshen up an old standard. On the other hand, if something is clearly out of style, time to let it go.

“Matters of Manners,” 1961

I SHOULD HAVE been upset at Sue’s persistence, but I wasn’t. She was slow and patient as she opened the closet and stood back for me to look inside. She didn’t force me to do anything, but was like a gentle prod to move forward. After two hours or so together, I had Nana’s everyday clothes boxed up and ready to give away for donations. I wasn’t sure who would wear some of the older styled clothing, but Sue assured me there would be someone in need. I selected four items to keep. Three were sweaters, one of which I thought Nana knitted herself. The other two were just a reminder of Nana and her traditional style. The last thing I kept was Nana’s wedding dress.

A black and white photo of a beautiful young lady elegantly dressed in a simple sleek white dress and veil still stood on Nana’s dresser. The woman leaned against the doorway, which I recognized as the space between the living room and dining room. She had a lovely, sexy smile on her face and her eyes peered out of the photo at you, saying
I am young, healthy and in love
. It was pure Nana, of course.

I decided to wrap the sweaters in tissue and keep the dress in its keepsake box, adding these items to the special memory closet in my mother’s old room. I took the wedding picture of Nana and placed it in my own room, adding it to the many framed memories of Rosie and I atop the maple dresser. Nana didn’t have tons of fine jewelry and I told Sue I would have to call my sister about what she would want for herself and her girls. Sue agreed that was a personal decision.

“Well, I think we did enough up here today. Now I know this is sensitive, honey, and I’m not prying, but do you know if your grandmother had a will or instructions?”

I did know the answer. Nana had been preparing for years for what she labeled:
her final days
, once she’d returned to Elk Rapids permanently. Those final days lasted more than ten years, and I struggled with the guilt again that I had not taken enough advantage of the additional time in her life.

Nana was rather organized and had a box within the old secretary drawer in the living room containing her funeral arrangements, which came in handy for Sue Carpenter when she organized Nana’s memorial service. The box also contained the name and number of a lawyer in Detroit who held Nana’s trust information. When John Parrish died, he had been a smart man to prepare his wife for a time without him. He developed a trust fund for her with stipulations for when she was gone. I didn’t know the details because I was young and at the time had felt it was personal between them as a married couple. I was respectful of them as my grandparents and I never asked for what I considered morbid information. Nana used to joke, saying, “When I go you can have this blanket or that piece of jewelry,” but I always brushed those comments aside. It was Rosie who would tease back, asking if she should put a tag on the item then and there.

“I’ll call the lawyer tomorrow.” It was early evening at this point and there would be no one in the office at this time. Sue encouraged me to call and leave a message regardless, so the lawyer could be prepared with information when he or she returned my call the next day. When I reached for the phone with the card in my hand, Sue disappeared to give me privacy.

There wasn’t much else for me to do after I left that phone message. I had already made the list of repairs and improvements needed to the house, and I needed to find a rental representative. I decided I couldn’t handle the details of renters from Chicago very well, so a local realtor would be better. Sue said she would look into that information and assured me it would be someone reputable in town.

That night I lay in bed, again staring out the open window into the backyard. There was no rain tonight, only the sound of crickets singing and cicadas chirping. A popular song came into my head about not being able to sleep and counting stars. I hadn’t called Rosie like I told Sue I would. I knew Rosie would be able to tell that I had more on my mind than dividing up jewelry. Admittedly, I was confused about Jess and I knew that my feelings were changing and growing for him every day. With our make out session from the night before, I was even more restless with desire. On the other hand, I had no idea how he really felt about me despite the passion in that kiss. I didn’t want to accept he might be trying to get something out of his system, but I hoped if he was he hadn’t accomplished his goal. Pushing that thought from my mind, I didn’t want to admit that I was actually trying to stay awake, hoping he would show up claiming a need to sleep with me, and then actually kiss me again and again and again. I denied myself the thought that I was starting to feel like I could stay in this small town for a big reason.

“HOW ABOUT A lemonade break?” Sue suggested from her own yard as I stood in Nana’s backyard the next day with the hose in my hand. She was more than twenty years older than me, but she was turning out to be a good friend. She listened to me share a story or two about Nana as we went through my grandmother’s things the night before. She hadn’t rushed me, but sat and sympathized with me with her gentle kindness and steady patience.

I wanted to shift the conversation to last night with Jess and ask Sue some questions about him, but I didn’t know how far any questions asked would travel through the gossip lines. It was still a small town; not that I thought Sue would be willingly to partake in spreading rumors.

Sue’s lemonade invitation was a welcome reprieve from my thoughts. I waited until late in the night for Jess, hoping he would show up and I was willing to admit I was highly disappointed when he didn’t. I was just getting up the nerve again to bring up the subject of Jess and any other female interest he might have when I noticed Katie staring through the bushes.

“Well, I’ll be,” Sue started. “I think we have a peeping Tom. Or at least his niece,” she laughed.

I shielded my eyes to get a better look.

“Katie? Come over?” I shouted the question. Katie ran away at first, then returned to get down on her knees and crawl through the bushes. It was under the bush that Katie got caught on something and I saw her struggling. As I walked quickly toward the bushes, Katie broke free, but she had ripped her shorts with a dead piece of wood and scratched her leg as well. The cut was not deep, but it was bleeding.

“Oh, Katie, honey, are you okay?” I reached down to pick her up. The blond beauty was not crying, but kept looking at her leg and the blood that was now dripping out of it.

“You aren’t going to fall asleep are you? Prick your finger and fall asleep until love’s first kiss awakens you?” I used my best witchy-sounding voice to distract Katie for the moment and she looked at her finger, shaking her head
no
.