Striding to her home, Jessica unlocked the door, went straight upstairs to her room, and opened the barrel top of the old trunk at the foot of her bed. Underneath her black felt hat and a box of Italian leather gloves, Jessica pulled out the photo album she had brought with her.
Before she opened it, she decided the occasion was worth using her last tea bag. She brewed herself a cup of tea, good and strong, and then retreated back to her bedroom where the album awaited her.
The afternoon sun pierced through the fluttering lace curtains, tracing its warm pattern of light on the floor. Jessica sat in the middle of the mosaic, with her back pressed against the old trunk. Slowly, she opened the family photo album. Having looked at it a thousand times, she had each page memorized. When she got to the fourth page, she stopped. There, in the upper right-hand corner, was the picture she was looking for. It was a black and white snapshot nearly identical to the scene she had just viewed. A curly haired, aproned woman with wooden clothespins in her mouth was hanging white sheets on a line. At her feet stood a grinning little girl in pigtails, proudly handing her mama a pillowcase from the wicker basket full of clean clothes. The little girl posed for the camera. Short little dress. Left sock scrunched down around her black shoe. She was endearing. And she was Jessica’s mother.
Releasing a heartbroken sigh, Jessica mourned the loss of her mother as the dust fairies rode in the beams of sunlight and floated around her. They were her only consolers this afternoon.
No one had ever mourned with Jessica. Not even that first day when she came home from school. She was eight, about the same age as her mother had been in that photo. Jessica had walked into the house, and Aunt Bonnie had grasped her by the hand and ushered her into the kitchen for some milk and cookies.
“Why are you here, Aunt Bonnie?” Jessica had asked. “Did Uncle John come too?”
“No, Jessie. I’m here because your mommy was sick.”
“She only got sick two days ago. She’ll be better soon.”
“Well, Jessie, sometimes people don’t get better. Sometimes they have to go somewhere else.”
“You mean to the hospital?”
“No, I don’t mean to the hospital, Jessie. Sometimes people have to leave us. You see, your mommy is gone. She went to be an angel.”
Jessica remembered how her Aunt Bonnie had begun to cry and how Jessica hadn’t understood, so she was the one who comforted Aunt Bonnie without shedding a tear of her own. And she didn’t cry later. Not when her dad came home that night from his business trip and wrapped her in his arms and cried until the top of her pink mouse pajamas was soaked. Not when she sat on the deck of a sleek yacht off the coast of Catalina Island and watched the grown-ups cry as they sprinkled some white powder in the water.
She hadn’t cried. Until now. At twenty-five and all alone, Jessica finally cried, hugging her knees and rocking herself back and forth, back and forth. First she sobbed silently, then audibly, then from deep within the core of her. She groaned and mourned until she finally surrendered to her grief.
Exhausted, she lay on the floor. Then sleep came to Jessica, sweet, soothing sleep with the end of the summer sun as her blanket.
Somewhere in her foggy dream, Jessica heard a voice calling her name and then loud knocking. Shaking herself awake, she realized someone was downstairs knocking on her door.
Teri.
“I’ll be right there!” she called out and tried to pull herself together. Carefully nudging her stiff legs down the stairs, Jessica opened the front door and began to apologize. “I fell asleep. I’m not feeling really great, Teri. Would it be okay if I took a rain check on tonight?”
Teri carefully looked at her and asked, “Are you sure you’re okay? Is there anything I can do?”
“I think I need to sleep, that’s all.”
“Should I come in and fix you something to eat? Some soup or something?”
“No,” Jessica said, responding a little too quickly. “I mean, no thanks. I’m not hungry. I’ll be fine. I’m sorry I didn’t call you, and you had to drive all the way over here.”
“All the way over?” Teri said. “It’s half a mile, and you’re on my way home anyway.” Teri took one last look. “You sure you’re okay?”
Jessica forced the most convincing grin she could find. “It’s been a full week.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Teri promised.
“Okay. Fine. Bye.” Jessica gave a weak wave, closed and bolted the door, and returned upstairs. She opened her dresser drawer, looking for some clean pajamas. The first thing she grabbed turned out to be a large T-shirt, which she slipped into and crawled into bed. Her arm brushed across the front of the shirt. It felt rough. Then she realized it was the letters on the T-shirt, the ones that spelled out, “Eleventh Annual Glenbrooke Firefighters’ Pancake Breakfast.” Kyle’s shirt.
Jessica refused to be moved. Part of her wanted to surrender her stubborn will and devise a way to be reconciled with Kyle. Another part of her wanted to push Kyle far away so she could carry out her plan without having his feelings—and hers—get in the way. She had to keep pushing away everything and everyone who tried to soften her, who would lower her defenses. It was just a stupid old T-shirt. It meant nothing.
She lay for a long time, staring at the wall while the sun went down, slowly extinguishing all natural light in her room. Somewhere down the street she could hear the shouts and squeals of children on roller blades playing one last round of street hockey.
Autumn was coming. She could smell it in the evening breeze. At the base of the rose trellis out by her front door, a lonely cricket chirped. Jessica knew his song. She knew he would stay there all night. Go ahead, little buddy. Sing your heart out. I’m not letting you inside.
Chapter Eight
Hello? Yes, I’d like Hugh McGregor’s room, please,” Jessica said to the hospital operator.
“Hello, this is Ida.”
“Hi, Ida. It’s Jessica.”
“Oh, Jessica, dear. I should have called you and invited you to the hospital with me. I thought with it being Saturday and all that you would have a busy day planned. You call me next time you want to come, okay?”
Jessica was beginning to hate being without transportation and so dependent on others. “How is Mr. McGregor doing?”
“Wonderful, dear. Just wonderful! He’s regained eighty percent of his movement or whatever they call it, and he goes home on Tuesday. Isn’t that wonderful news? He’s right here. Why don’t you tell him hello?”
Jessica spoke with Hugh McGregor for a few minutes, and he really did sound better. She gingerly asked about her file, which he had mentioned when she visited him.
“It’s not complete,” Hugh said.
Jessica already knew that. Was he trying to tell her something more, but couldn’t because Ida was there? Jessica told him to rest, and she promised to call on Sunday. Ida got back on the phone and reminded Jessica of the times of the two church services on Sunday and the picnic on Monday. Jessica thanked her, but knew she wouldn’t go to either.
She planned to stay home, all by herself, the entire weekend. She had made the decision last night after Teri came by. Being around other people felt too difficult right now when she felt so emotional. It would be better and safer to be alone.
But the biggest problem with being alone was that she spent too many hours thinking of all the things that could go wrong in her life and all the things that already had. Kyle was definitely on the list. Jessica knew she would see him again, this being a small town and all. What would she say?
The only time she ventured out of the house all weekend was late Saturday afternoon. A corner market was located about five blocks away, and Jessica was desperate for food. She hadn’t eaten anything since the donut and orange juice at school on Friday morning. With a meager $10.27 in her purse, she hiked to the little market and came home with a full bag of groceries. She ate a slice of day-old bread as she walked. The loaf had cost only thirty-nine cents.
Jessica decided if she tried really hard, the eggs, bread, canned beans, and fruit might last her the entire week.
Best of all, Jessica realized for the first time that Oregon had no sales tax. That meant she had received change, leaving her with eighty-four cents in the bottom of her purse.
The absurdity of her situation made her laugh. Never would she have guessed that she would be walking down the street in Oregon with only eighty-four cents to her name. The laughing part she would have guessed, though. She had known she would be happy here. She had always known she was a small-town girl at heart, just like her mom had been.
When Jessica was halfway home, she noticed a white truck that looked like Kyle’s parked at the end of the next block. Part of her wanted to run the other way and part of her wanted to face him and get it over. Without completely making up her mind, Jessica walked toward the truck.
It might not even be his. If it is and he sees me and asks what I’m doing on this block, I can always say I got lost. And if he sees me with a bag of groceries, that would be good. He would think I simply hadn’t been to the store yet, and that’s why my refrigerator was empty when he came over.
Before she knew it, Jessica was standing a few feet away from the truck. It was Kyle’s all right. She wondered which house he was in. That’s when she noticed the cemetery across the street. Kyle was bending down on one knee, placing a bouquet of daisies in front of one of the graves. Jessica wanted to watch. She thought of hiding behind a tree and then going over to see the name on the grave. But it would never work. She couldn’t hide, because there weren’t any trees on her side of the street. The huge trees were all at the cemetery, and if she tried to sneak to the other side of the street to try to hide behind a tree—with her bag of groceries in tow—he would surely see her. Besides, it seemed inappropriate to spy on someone in such a private moment.
Jessica turned around and walked swiftly back the way she came. What if he gets in his truck, drives this way, and sees me?
By the time she reached her front door, she was panting from her rapid pace. Quickly turning the key in the lock, Jessica slipped inside, closed the door, and let out a huge sigh. It was ridiculous to act so juvenile. Why did she push this man away, then two days later stalk him, only to run away again? How could she possibly trust herself to make rational decisions the next time she saw him?
Jessica put away her treasured, if scant, groceries and thought about old love songs that mentioned doing crazy things when you’re in love. Jessica wondered if her personal life were different now. If she were in Glenbrooke under different circumstances, would she allow herself to fall in love with Kyle?
“It’s ridiculous,” Jessica scolded herself aloud as she filled a pan with water and prepared to boil an egg for her dinner. “I don’t know a thing about him. How can you fall in love with a stranger?”
Jessica dined on her boiled egg and a glass of water, eating in front of the TV, changing channels until she came on an old black-and-white movie that was just starting. She had seen this one before but was glad she couldn’t remember how it ended.
That’s how Jessica spent the rest of the weekend, eating only when necessary, relaxing with her antique book collection, and watching old movies on TV. The food commercials were her only frustration. She quickly switched the channel every time another tantalizing ad came on, and she promised herself a freezer full of DoveBars when her paycheck came.
By Tuesday morning, she felt rested, calm, and ready for the challenge that lay ahead of her. It was a good thing, because the next four days were nonstop.
After all the talk Jessica had heard about Dawn, she was surprised to find her to be an ordinary high school student. Dawn’s long, straight blond hair hung down her back, and her round face looked innocent. Jessica felt drawn to her.
During the first few days of school, she looked for an opportunity to talk with Dawn, not that she was sure what she would say. The chance came on Wednesday after class. Dawn came up to Jessica’s desk while the rest of the class scattered into the hallway.
“I was wondering if you would like to buy a candy bar. It’s to raise money for an outreach trip to Mexico,” Dawn said.
Jessica wished she could feel freer with her money. “I’m sorry, Dawn. Not this time. Try me after payday.”
“Okay,” Dawn said and was about to leave when Jessica stopped her.
“Dawn?”
“Yes?” She looked so young when she turned and met Jessica’s gaze.
“I want you to know that my door is always open to you, if you have any questions about class or whatever. Sorry I couldn’t help out with the fund-raiser this week.”
“That’s okay. See you tomorrow.”
Jessica nodded and watched Dawn hurry out the door. The classroom had begun to fill with next period’s students. Jessica watched them slide into their seats and chat with each other. They were great students. She liked all of them. But she felt something stronger toward Dawn, in the same way she was more drawn to Teri than to any of the other teachers she had met.
Teri seemed to feel the same way about Jessica, because she continued to seek out Jessica during the week. On Friday afternoon Teri sat on the edge of Jessica’s desk and said, “So you think you’re ready to come back next Monday and do this all over again?”
“What a first week!” Jessica shook her head. “I can’t believe it went so fast.”
Teri slowly rotated her head in small circles, trying to relax. “And just think—that was only four days. Next week we get to do this for five! And the next week, and the next week…” Her voice faded as she continued the small circles.
She looked like a teacher in her navy blue, straight jumper and white shirt. Jessica noticed that Teri never wore jewelry, and yet somehow her outfits always looked complete and stylishly put together.
In contrast, Jessica had accessories to go with every outfit she owned. Today she wore a DKNY brown knit skirt and matching sweater. It turned out to be a warmer day than she had thought, and she had pushed up the sleeves so many times that now the sweater felt all itchy in the crook of her elbow.
“Do you have another chiropractor appointment today?” Teri asked.
“No, I went yesterday. Ida took me. I can’t imagine what kind of shape I’d be in if I hadn’t started going to Dr. Dane right after the accident. Have you ever had one of Becky’s massages?”
“No, but it sounds pretty wonderful right about now,” Teri said. “What are you going to do this weekend?”
“Nothing much. Work on lesson plans maybe,” Jessica said.
“Do you want to come over tonight for leftover spaghetti? I know you weren’t up for doing anything last Friday night, and if you aren’t this week either, I’ll understand.”
Jessica thought of how she was down to her last two eggs and four pieces of bread. She had managed to hoard that final eighty-four cents, though! Payday was still a week away. A free meal would be wonderful, and it would be nice to spend the evening with Teri.
“Sure. Spaghetti sounds great. Do you want me to bring anything?” Jessica wasn’t sure why she asked; she couldn’t bring anything even if Teri asked her to. Fortunately Teri said she had a full refrigerator.
They stopped by Jessica’s long enough for her to change into jeans, and then they drove the six or so blocks to Teri’s little house. It was an old house like Jessica’s, but not quite as charming. Perhaps the bungalow’s color took away from its appeal—mint green with ivory trim.
The one-story rental house had two bedrooms and a full basement. Inside, everything was cream and white and simple. The kitchen table had white chairs and was covered with an ivory tablecloth. A basket of linen napkins sat in the center of the table with tall white salt and pepper shakers on either side. Teri took Jessica on a quick tour of her comfortable, light and airy home, which concluded once again in the kitchen where Teri started to fix dinner.
While she worked, she told stories about where she had picked up most of the furnit
ure. She bought her plants at moving sales, which she watched for in the paper, and her dishes were a collection of old china plates she had picked up at a variety of garage sales. She handed Jessica a china plate that had rich blue and yellow flowers etched around the edge and invited her to help herself to the tossed salad in the big wooden bowl on the counter.
Even though Teri and Jessica saw each other at school every day and had chatted some here and there, they really hadn’t talked with each other in depth. Jessica felt comfortable with the casualness of their friendship and was thankful Teri hadn’t done any probing. As long as that was how their conversations stayed, they would be fine.
“Did you see Mr. McGregor yesterday?” Teri asked.
Jessica poured some Thousand Island dressing on her salad and said, “Yes. He’s home now, and he seems to be doing lots better. The home nurse who looks after him is a real sweetie. I don’t think he’ll be back at school for some time, though. I’m afraid we’re stuck with Charlotte the rest of the year.”
Teri scooped some spaghetti noodles onto her plate and held another helping in midair, waiting for Jessica’s plate. “Did you sign that card Charlotte bought for Mr. McGregor? She made him a blueberry cheesecake and took it over yesterday.”
Jessica still couldn’t imagine Charlotte as anything other than villain. Why would she buy a card and make a cheesecake? She had to have something to gain. “No, I didn’t know a card was going around.”
“Kyle was over there when she showed up, and he said the cheesecake could win first place at the county fair. Say, Jessica, whatever happened with you and Kyle? I thought something was about to start up between you two, but you haven’t said a word about him, and he hasn’t been around.”
“I guess nothing is happening,” Jessica said, ladling the hot marinara sauce over her noodles and then sitting down at the kitchen table.
“He asked about you at the Labor Day picnic on Monday,” Teri said.