Полная версия
Hometown Healing
His grandma had said Paige’s divorce had hit her pretty hard.
He grabbed a candy from a dish on the counter. “But I figured that out quick enough when I saw her sitting in her car in her mama’s driveway.”
“She’s here already? Oh, how wonderful.” Grandma scurried to the pantry and brought out flour and sugar. “You remember she’s a writer?”
He nodded. She’d always said she wanted to be a journalist someday. Had even submitted a few things to the school paper. But there was a big difference between news stories and script writing. Not to mention, she’d seemed to cart quite the grudge back into town. He wasn’t so sure she’d lift a finger—or pen—to help him.
Though, she just might help Grandma...
He popped another candy into his mouth. “Doubt she’d be interested. We can’t pay much. Plus we need something pretty quick.”
Grandma pulled what appeared to be her last baking dish out of the cupboard. “Well, at least talk to Paige. It never hurts to ask.”
“I guess.” She was as apt to take the job as a heifer was to eat moldy grain.
“And bring her a nice fresh plate of cookies while you’re at it. To welcome her home. Matter of fact, I’ll come with you. Soon as I’m done baking these snickerdoodles. Those always were her favorite, you know.”
He did. He knew almost everything about her. At least, he had, back in high school. But it’d been fourteen years. She’d probably changed a lot since then.
He had half a notion to find out just how much.
Chapter Two
Paige deposited her suitcase on the entryway floor, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting in her mother’s home. The place smelled like eucalyptus and peppermint.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Mom rose to meet them and instantly took Ava from Paige’s arms. She gave her a squeeze, then blew raspberries into her neck, producing a high-pitched squeal. “A child needs to be near her grandma. Why, she’s almost three years old, and I could count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen y’all.”
Paige studied her. “How are you?” She’d dyed her hair nearly black, but two inches of gray roots showed. She’d lost weight, giving her face a pale, sunken appearance, and dark circles shadowed her golden eyes. “Stacy says you’re not sleeping?” Her sister had also told her the doctor indicated most of Mom’s health issues were most likely psychosomatic. What did that mean exactly, and how could Paige best help her? Or, at the very least, not make things worse?
Mom waved a hand and shifted Ava to her other hip. “That’s the least of my problems.” Moving into the living room, she stepped over a box of papers on her way to her recliner. “The good Lord knows I’ve got plenty of other things to tackle, like my chest pains and breathing issues.”
She grimaced and sucked in a series of quick, shallow breaths. “Been to more doctors than I can count, and not a one of ’em can figure out what’s ailing me. Some days I’m so tired, it’s all I can do to pull this aching body out of bed.”
She sat and bounced Ava on her knee. “But enough about my health woes. Your uncle Ken called. To check on how you’re feeling about leaving Chicago, I suspect.”
“I’ll call him later.”
“He said he was heading out for a business trip but would call you next week sometime.” She eyed Paige’s things. “That all you brought?”
“I’ll unload the rest later.” When she was certain Jed wasn’t around. Obviously she couldn’t avoid him forever, not with his grandmother living next door. But she could delay their next encounter, at least until she had a better handle on her feelings.
After fourteen years, she was starting to wonder if that day would ever come. She’d expected to feel awkward seeing him again. But she hadn’t anticipated how raw her emotions would be.
Then again, she’d been through a lot over the past year and a half, first with the divorce, and now losing her job and having to move... Her recurring bouts of insomnia certainly weren’t helping.
Crossing to the green couch, she glanced about at the mess. Papers piled on a rudimentary desk shoved against the wall, a mix of clutter crowding out the old computer.
A foot or two away stood a metal folding chair that had a torn seat cushion with wads of paper scattered near its legs and overflowing a plastic garbage can. Next to this, Mom had stacked manila folders, notebooks and what looked like medical dictionaries. Had working from home been good for her? Or had it allowed her more time to obsess? If only Paige knew how to help her.
She kicked off her shoes. “How’s work going?”
“Busy. Stressful. It’s not helping my health issues—that’s for sure.” She started talking about a slew of tests her latest doctor had given her. “If they don’t figure things out soon, I may need to find me one of those specialists they got in Houston. Though I imagine they cost a pretty penny.”
Paige listened, but other than with the occasional “Uh-huh” and “I’m sorry,” she wasn’t sure how to respond.
The doorbell rang, and she raised an eyebrow. “You expecting someone?”
Mom huffed. “Probably one of those cleaning-supplies salesmen. Last thing I need is more lemon-scented spray bottles under my sink.”
“I’ll get it.” Paige opened the door to find Jed and his grandmother standing shoulder to shoulder on the stoop.
“Oh, sweet Paige, it’s so good to see you.” Mrs. Tappen swooshed inside, set the plate of cookies in her hands on the entryway console and then swept Paige into a tight hug.
The familiar scent of her almond-cherry lotion warmed Paige’s heart. And almost soothed the unexpected jolt at finding Jed a few feet away, waiting to be invited in.
“What a pleasant surprise.” Mom crossed the room. Ava ran over and tugged on Paige’s leg.
“I hungwy.”
Paige scooped her up and held her close.
“There’s that sweet little girl of yours.” Mrs. Tappen smiled and tickled Ava’s ribs. “Not going to scare the poor thing by asking to hold her—just yet.” She winked at Paige.
Mom laughed. “Oh, I’m sure she won’t act bashful for long.” She glanced at the cookies. “My, these look delicious. Would you like some coffee? I can make some right quick. My heart’s been giving me fits, racing for no good reason, but my hands work just fine.”
“I’d hate to put you out.”
“Not at all.” Mom led the way to the kitchen. Mrs. Tappen followed, leaving Jed and Paige in the living room, staring at one another. Ava began to squirm. Paige set her down and she scampered after her grandmother, calling out, “Me some? Pwees? Me want some.”
“Hey.” He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. “Long time no see, huh?” He gave a half-hearted chuckle.
“Right.” She followed his gaze to a mound of what she hoped was clean laundry, piled on one end of the couch. If he and his grandmother had called first, she could’ve cleaned up some.
“Have a seat.” She motioned toward a plaid love seat with sunken cushions, made sure Ava was occupied with some toys and then followed Mom into the kitchen.
“Grab some napkins or something, will you, sweetie? For the cookies.” Mom filled a dingy coffee carafe with water, which she then poured into the percolator. She faced Paige with her hands planted on her hips. “Have you had supper?”
“We had plenty of snacks on the drive.” Paige grabbed four dessert plates from the cupboard—using just napkins felt too...shabby. Whenever she’d been to Jed’s place, which had been a total of three times back in high school, all she’d seen was fancy china.
“I’ve only got peanut butter and corn chips in the pantry.” Mom swiped hair from her face with the back of her hand. “I meant to go shopping—wanted to cook up some steak and potatoes, along with baked squash for little Ava. But I just didn’t have the energy. I told you how tired I get.”
Paige nodded. “I’ll go tomorrow, Mom. No problem.” She’d do an inventory of her mother’s cupboards in the morning. Then she’d stock them up with healthy foods. Was she eating well? Getting out of the house? Spending time with friends?
“You should’ve told me you were running low on groceries.” Mrs. Tappen frowned. “Jed would’ve picked up whatever you needed. Matter of fact, write him up a list. He’s grabbing a few things for me tomorrow—he’s sweet like that.”
Mom poured four cups of coffee and then placed them on a porcelain tray, one of the few nice serving sets she owned. “You’re lucky to have him so close by.” She led the way to the living room.
Paige followed to the archway that signaled the end of the kitchen, and then she stopped short. Jed was sitting on the ground, next to Ava, and had begun playing with her grungy stuffed cat, talking to it as if it were real. The image triggered memories of dreams—of her and Jed and their happily-ever-after—she’d long since let die.
She could not—would not—allow them to resurface.
Two heartbreaks in one lifetime were more than enough. Besides, by summer’s end, she’d be back in Chicago with its museums, restaurants and shopping malls.
Upon seeing Paige, he stood and sort of hovered there, as if uncertain where to land. He eventually chose the edge of the couch where her mom hadn’t piled laundry.
Paige took his place on the floor, largely to distance herself from him.
She grabbed some board books from her backpack and handed one over. Ava started flipping through the pages, repeating random words from memory.
That entertained the adults for a bit, but soon the conversation, which had already felt stilted, stalled.
Jed shifted. He scratched at the back of his neck, looked at her and then at Mom with his brow pinching in that way it always did when he was trying to come up with something to say but had reached a blank. But then he grabbed a cookie and shoved half of it into his mouth.
Paige was tempted to do the same, if only to distract herself from the much-too-handsome man sitting in her mother’s living room.
It was almost like old times.
But if her divorce had taught her anything, it was that she had no business dabbling in romance. The deeper one fell, the more it hurt when everything came undone. And based on the way her breath stalled every time his chocolate eyes latched on to hers, she was dangerously close to regressing back to her teenage years, when Jed’s crooked smile and laughing eyes had threatened to steal her reason. She’d responded to her ex-husband in much the same way and had allowed his sweet talk and promises of forever blind her to some major red flags.
Mrs. Tappen folded her hands in her lap. “Not sure I’m used to seeing you all grown-up, Paige. I still remember when you were a freckle-faced youngster who could never decide if you wanted to play the dainty little princess or go prancing through the mud.”
Paige offered a slight smile.
“Seems to me, she always had an instigator,” Mom said.
Mrs. Tappen eyed Jed. “Oh, there’s no doubt about that. ’Course, I don’t remember her putting up much of a fight when it was all laid out on the table.” She shook her head. “Still can’t believe those two went diving in that stinky old pond, looking for buried treasure of all things.”
Mom laughed. “Took three cycles in the washing machine to get that smell out those jeans of hers. I had to throw Paige’s brand-new sneakers away.”
Jed had thought that was the funniest thing—at least he’d had the sense to take his shoes off before diving into the muck. Back when they were best friends. Before things had turned romantic and then had ruined everything. She glanced his way to find him looking at her with an intensity that unnerved her.
Averting her gaze, she cleared her throat. “That was a long time ago. I’ve since given up my affinity for dirt.” She wasn’t up for any more treks down memory lane—of talking about the “good old days” when she had spent almost every free moment with Jed, the first man she’d ever truly, fully given her heart to.
Other than her daddy—the first man to leave her and break her heart.
Had every male relationship she’d developed ended in pain?
Mrs. Tappen smiled. “I see that. You’ve grown up right beautiful. And that child of yours is precious.” She faced Mom, and her expression sobered. “How you been feeling, Marilyn?”
Mom sighed. “My stress level is through the roof. Not only over my health, which is enough to knock any woman down, but work’s been busy, too.” She rubbed her temple. “Sure wish I could be more like Paige with nothing to worry about other than what to eat for lunch. I keep telling her to enjoy herself a bit, but she insists on following that silly planner of hers. She has everything scheduled to the half hour. Isn’t that right, honey?”
Her cheeks flamed. As soon as this conversation ended, she and Mom needed to establish some boundaries regarding what could and couldn’t be discussed in front of Paige’s ex-boyfriend.
“So, Paige...” Mrs. Tappen wrapped both hands around her coffee mug. “What have you been up to?”
Mom brushed cookie crumbs from her hands. “I told you she lost her job.”
“Mom!”
“What? It’s the truth. And you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. That boss of yours did you wrong, honey. Her and all those suits-and-ties in that big, fancy high-rise you worked in wouldn’t know a talented writer if she landed smack in their lap.”
“Ardell didn’t have a choice.”
“Budget cuts.” She scoffed. “Right.”
“Their loss—our gain.” Mrs. Tappen smiled and cast a veiled look toward Jed.
“No truer words, my friend.” Mom stretched her legs out in front of her and crossed her ankles. “I’ll for sure enjoy having her around. But I have a feeling she won’t be putting down roots here, not unless one of us can do some strong convincing.” Her face sobered, and with a deep breath, she fiddled with a button on her shirt. “As much as I’d love for her and little Ava to stay, her heart’s in Chicago.”
Paige watched Ava occupy herself with the buckles on her backpack. Could this conversation get any more uncomfortable?
“It’s such a shame they couldn’t find some way to keep you.” Mrs. Tappen pulled her long braid over her shoulder and tugged at the end, twisting it around her finger. “Your mama told me all about it. If you ask me, seems they could’ve at least moved you to another department.”
Paige shrugged. It wasn’t like they could’ve offered her an accounting position.
“I agree,” Mom said. “Staff reduction, my big toe.” She slapped her thigh.
“Mom, please.” Based on the heat radiating from Paige’s neck, she feared she was beginning to turn blotchy. Lovely. Now seemed like a great time to leave the room, but leaving wouldn’t end this incredibly embarrassing topic of conversation. It’d only prevent her from knowing what had been said.
“It’s true, and by no fault of your own, I might add.” She faced Mrs. Tappen. “Girl worked hard for that magazine. Barely had time to herself. Hasn’t dated in...what? Over a year.”
That was the last straw. She grabbed her wallet from her backpack and stood. “I hate to dash out like this...” All eyes shifted her way. “Can you watch Ava for a bit?”
“You’re leaving so soon?” Mrs. Tappen scooted to the edge of the couch cushion.
“I’ve got...” She’d never been a good liar, and had no intention of becoming one now. But neither did she plan to sit here, while her Mom openly discussed her failures. “To pick up a few things.” Which was true enough, if she wanted to feed her daughter something other than corn chips and peanut butter for supper. Maybe she’d buy a tub of ice cream for herself while she was at it. Chocolate fudge macadamia with brownie chunks. “I’ll see you later.”
“Wait, please.” Deep lines etched across Mrs. Tappen’s furrowed brow. “I—We’ve been wanting to speak to you regarding...” She looked from Paige to Jed, then back to Paige. “I...er... What I mean to say is...” She nudged Jed. “Did you have a question, dear?”
He blinked. “Question?” He cleared his throat and stood. “Right. I...um...” He stepped forward. “Can I call you? Maybe we could meet? For coffee? I’d like to talk with you about something.”
She studied Mrs. Tappen. “Are you feeling all right?”
She laughed. “Oh, nothing like that, dear. Jed here’s just got...an idea, is all.”
Paige wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that.
“You know where to find me.” She forced a smile, but it felt wobbly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really do have things I need to attend to.”
Chapter Three
Late Friday morning, Jed met his contractor friend, Drake Owens, at the theater, to get an estimate on the needed renovations. Seemed he wanted to make more changes than he had the money for.
“I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear,” Drake said as he tucked his pencil behind his ear. “And of course this is all a guestimate. Won’t have real numbers till I price things out. But based on your budget, it’s fair to say you’re going to have to make some choices.”
Jed rubbed the back of his neck. “Sounds like I need to separate the must-dos from the want-tos.” The carpet was top on the gut-it-and-burn-it list. Maroon with a gold paisley pattern, darkened to a dingy yellow in high-traffic areas. The chairs and wallpaper, both a faded burnt yellow, needed to go. The stage could use new paint, maybe new flooring. Then there was the lobby. And the outside. Plus he’d need a new sign.
Was he foolish trying to turn this place Western? Everything was costing much more than he’d expected, but if he could do some of it himself... And maybe if he got a few of his buddies to help...
His thoughts drifted to Paige and the job offer Grandma wanted him to give her. That’d add yet another expense, and probably more than Grandma had considered. With all of Paige’s big-city experience, she’d probably want a paycheck to match it.
One they couldn’t afford, no matter how many ways Grandma crunched the numbers. Even so, he had to try—had to ask Paige. Grandma wouldn’t let up until he did.
He cracked his knuckles one at a time. “How’s the bed-and-breakfast-ranch deal coming?”
Drake gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Slow but steady. You oughta stop by sometime and see what Neil’s got planned for that adventure/training course of his. That guy’s got one creative imagination.”
“Might need to.” Hopefully his friend’s business venture would bring in tourists—the kind who liked murder-mystery dinner theater. “Thanks for coming.” He shook Drake’s hand.
“My pleasure. I’ll be in touch.”
Jed nodded and walked him out. As he was returning to his office, his chef called to him from the kitchen doorway.
“Coming.” He followed the scent of freshly brewed coffee. “What’s up?”
Decked in a stained apron and the toque he insisted on wearing, Dillon Tedford stood with his backside resting against the edge of the worktable. “We’ve hit a few snags.”
“Such as?”
“The asparagus is nasty. We can’t serve it.”
“Great.” Jed sighed. “Can you substitute summer squash?”
“Don’t have any, but I’ve got some canned beans in the pantry.”
“We talked about this. Fresh produce. Quality meat.” He couldn’t elevate guest opinions of the place otherwise. “Guess you’ll have to hit the store. And see if you can get a refund on the rotten stuff.” He should’ve checked the produce when their supplier had dropped it off. Now it would cost double what they’d budgeted for.
Jed glanced at the meal-plan calendar on the wall. Some nights Italian, and others Mexican. Hard to establish any sort of brand when their dishes were all over the place. He needed to talk to Dillon about the menu changes he wanted to implement once the renovations were complete, but based on the man’s scowl, today wasn’t the day.
“I’ll let you get to it, then.” As he turned to leave, his phone rang. He pulled it from his back pocket. His mom. He answered en route to his office. “Hey. Sorry I haven’t returned your call.”
“You’re busy. I know.”
“How are you? You get enough donations for the charity auction you’re working on?” Their conversations always went better when he focused on her. And away from his “wreck of a life plan,” as she liked to call it.
“Yes, plenty. But that’s not why I’m calling.”
“Okay.” He shucked his Stetson, placed it on the corner of his desk and then sat behind his computer. He pulled up his emails. Hopefully he’d received those Gold Rush script samples he’d requested. What he really wanted was a train heist, but he hadn’t found anything like that. Would Paige be able to write what they needed in time for the reopening? If he didn’t land on something by midweek, he’d have to make do with what he could find. And soon, so his cast had time to rehearse.
“Your father cut his trip short. He’ll be home this weekend, and I’d really like us to go out to dinner. As a family. It’s been so long since we’ve all been together.”
“I love the idea, but I’ve got a show both nights. You know that.”
She let out a long sigh. “Well, I’m sure you can miss one. Rhonda said she drove by last Friday and the parking lot was nearly empty.”
“We’re doing fine.” At least, they would be. Once he revived the place.
“Well then, there shouldn’t be a problem with taking the night off.”
“Actually, there would be. As part owner, I need—”
“The place won’t fall apart if you step away for an evening. Your grandmother’s quite capable. I’m sure she’ll be able to manage things on her own.”
No, she couldn’t; otherwise he wouldn’t have needed to help her out. But he didn’t want to admit that to his mother.
“I just wish you’d go back to school and finish your degree, Jed.”
“I did—in business. Which I’m utilizing now. Tell you what. Why don’t you and dad come out here this Friday, on me? We’ll grab coffee and dessert after.”
“At the theater, you mean?” Her voice sounded pinched. Was she envisioning herself serving dinner guests while wearing a waitress’s uniform? “No, no. I appreciate the sentiment, but your father will be tired, I’m sure. He’ll want a much quieter environment.”
“Some other time, then.” He ended the call and set his phone on his desk. He knew his mom was just worried about him, though it’d be nice if she were a little more supportive regarding the dinner theater.
Had Paige stopped by his grandmother’s yet? To snag a cookie or mug of hot cocoa, like old times? Grandma would be happier than a calf in the clover patch if Paige brought that giggling little one of hers. Ava. She had her mama’s nose, slender but round as a button at the end. Her curly hair, too, like shiny copper coils. And a mischievous glint in her eyes that reminded him of Paige.
A smile tugged as he remembered her from high school, always thinking up something fanciful. When she wasn’t hunched over a book. He’d been a fool to let her go. Maybe if things had been different for both of them, he never would have. He doubted there was any chance of them rekindling what they had, but hopefully they could rebuild the friendship.
* * *
On Saturday morning, Paige sat on the living room floor with Ava snuggled in her lap. Toys and books were spread out to her left, and her calendar and notes to her right. Still dressed in her pajamas, she checked the time and then her agenda, and penciled in her day planner. At some point, she needed to send out article queries and follow up on all of the places she’d sent her résumé.
“Mama, pway wiff me?” Ava held out a doll with blue hair.
“Sure, baby. Who am I?”
She scrunched her neck into her shoulders and put her arms out in the most adorable “I don’t know” pose.
Paige laughed and kissed her cheek. She smelled like peanut butter and strawberry shampoo. “How about I be the mama and you be the little girl.”
“Uh-uh. Me big giwl.”
“That you are, and an adorable one at that.” She gently tugged on her big toe.
The one highlight of her unemployment—more time spent with her daughter. And her mom.
She glanced toward the kitchen and the sound of clanking dishes. Though she still didn’t understand the hypochondria, or whatever the doctors called it, and hadn’t a clue how to help, she was here. She had to believe that meant something.