Chapter Five

 

The weekend didn’t get much better. Blake spent Sunday on a fifty-mile bike ride in the mountains with Easton, his one and only friend in this town. I liked Easton Cole, he was the best family practice doctor in town, but he was married to an awful woman, Kathryn. Over the years we had done a couple of things with them, but it was awkward. You see, I was still friends with his ex-wife, Taylor, who now lived in Birmingham, Alabama. I had gone to high school with Kathryn, and we were anything but friends. When Easton and Taylor divorced several years ago I couldn’t understand why. Taylor was beautiful and kind and they seemed to be really in love. Then suddenly Taylor was gone, they were divorced and Easton married his nurse. Boy, did this town have a heyday with that.

I don’t know if Easton had an affair—it was none of my business—but I always got the feeling he regretted marrying Kathryn. I think if they didn’t have Emmy, their eight-year-old daughter, they would probably be divorced, too. And then lately there were rumors swirling about Kathryn and her personal trainer. Again, who knew if they were true? For Easton and Emmy’s sake, I hoped not. 

When Taylor and I communicated we never spoke about it. We mostly talked about her daughter, Ashley, whom she shared with Easton. She was fifteen now and beautiful like her mother. Easton rarely saw Ashley and she had never met Emmy. How does life get so messed up? How do good people make such stupid mistakes? I counted myself as one of those people. I’d throw Blake in there, too. 

I, on the other hand, spent Sunday at church and then at my parents’ home for dinner. I only went to church now because I taught the teen Sunday school class. My heart really hadn’t been in it for a long while now, but when I told our pastor he should find someone to replace me, he politely declined. I think he knew it was what kept me coming. Besides, the kids in my class loved my homemade cinnamon rolls and I loved my twenty rambunctious students.

Several of them frequently stopped by the café after school. I handed out milk and cookies and homework help to any kid that needed it. It was the only worthwhile thing I did that anymore.

Sunday night I spent in my bed, alone. I used the time to write out some possible recipes for a graham cookie and a cannoli shell. When Monday dawned I actually felt a little anticipation. I was looking forward to getting back into the kitchen at Jessie Belle’s and creating. I was also planning to hit the gym. Apparently, per Cheyenne’s intel, there was a new Zumba instructor and he was amazing. I didn’t need to lose any weight; I just needed to feel alive.

I ran into Blake and stumbled some as I came out of the bedroom. I was more than surprised—I thought he would have been long gone. I didn’t have to go into the café early anymore, so I rarely saw him in the mornings. I had hired an amazing manager last year in anticipation of staying home with the baby, and though that didn’t happen, I still kept Aaron on. I should probably let him do more of my job, and maybe I would someday, but sometimes Jessie Belle’s was my lifeline.

“Jessica,” he said as he steadied me. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

He cautiously took my hand and led me to the couch in the great room. It was kind of sweet, but odd. We sat down next to each other and he continued to hold my hand with his thumb gently gliding across it. I looked into his gray eyes and saw they were still troubled and tired. It looked like he hadn’t bothered to shave either, but I liked it that way. I almost reached up and touched his rough cheek, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I don’t know why I was having problems showing him physical affection. When we were first married, I couldn’t keep my hands off him. Maybe I was afraid of rejection, or maybe I was looking for a deeper emotional connection first. I wasn’t sure, but this I did know: I missed it.

“Jess, I know how hard all of this is on you and I’m sorry for that. I don’t want to cause you any pain, but I want to be above board with you about what’s going on with Madeline.”

I looked up briefly at the ceiling. I had been trying not to think about it.

He lightly ran his finger down my cheek. “I know. I’m sorry.”

I took a deep breath and tried to be a big girl about it. “Do you think she’s yours?”

He let go of my hand and reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He pulled up a picture and showed it to me.

I did my best not to cry as I looked at the beautiful girl with dark blond hair and gray eyes like my husband, and a nose to match his, too. My best wasn’t good enough. Tears trailed down my cheeks.

He quickly put the phone away and took up my hand again. “Sabrina’s lawyer is having a lab send me a paternity test kit.”

We both knew that was just a formality. That girl was his.

“Is she suing you for child support?”

“No, but when paternity is determined, I’m sure she will request it. I’ve already offered it if she’s mine.”

“Of course. You should.”

“Don’t worry about the money. I have it covered.”

“Money is the very least of my concerns in this situation.”

He leaned in and rested his forehead against mine. “Don’t you know how much I wish she was ours?” he whispered.

“That doesn’t change the fact that she isn’t.”

He sighed heavily. I could smell his minty breath.

“Why did she wait so long to tell you?”

“I’m not sure. I’m not even sure she would have told me if she weren’t  so sick. I think she’s scared and wants to make sure Madeline is taken care of, just in case.”

I pulled back so I could look at him more clearly. “Just in case what?”

“I got the feeling they don’t have any other family support and her diagnosis isn’t promising.”

“Are you saying that Madeline might come live with you?”

“Us,” he corrected.

I stood up, not sure how to process that information. I don’t know why that didn’t cross my mind as a possibility, but it was hitting me like a wrecking ball. I clasped my hands together and paced the wood floors of our home. Blake watched me carefully. He was smart not to speak right away.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” I said to myself out loud. “This wasn’t the way my life was supposed to turn out. I should be home now with my baby and—”

Blake took me up in his arms before I could finish my rant and pulled me close. I tried to fight him, but he refused to let me go.

“Why wasn’t I enough for you and why did you sleep with Sabrina and why do you get to have a child when I never can? Just tell me why,” I cried against him. I knew how selfish it all sounded, but I felt overwhelming anger and jealously boiling within me. I wasn’t a jealous person, but the green-eyed monster consumed me.

“Is that what you’ve thought all this time?” he asked quietly against my ear. “That I broke things off with you because I didn’t think you were enough? It was the exact opposite. I knew I wasn’t good enough for you. I worked in construction without a degree of any kind and you came from affluence and education.”

“That has never mattered to me.”

“It mattered to me. Jessica, I’m not going to keep apologizing for something I did over thirteen years ago. I can’t change the past. And hell, Jess, don’t you think it kills me to hurt you like this? Don’t you know how much I wanted a child with you?”

“I don’t know anything anymore,” I said quietly against his chest through my shuddering. “I only want the pain to go away.”

He held me tighter. “Me, too.”

My enthusiasm for Monday went out the door along with my husband. I knew he was worried and even nervous, and part of me wanted to make him feel better about the whole situation. I felt so empty and lost. I had conflicting thoughts going through my head—I knew you’re supposed to put on your own oxygen mask first, but I’d also heard that helping someone else would make your own problems not look so bad.

My issues with both of those thoughts was that we were part of each other’s problems.

I don’t know how that happened. We really were in love once upon a time. We were never one of those couples that felt the need to shout it to the world. It was more like we had quiet confidence in each other and as a couple. Somewhere along the way, though, that had been lost. I don’t know if I could pinpoint where or how it happened. I wished I could say it was just the trauma and turmoil over losing our son that had caused it, but we’d had problems before that. We only masked them better. But after we lost Carter, all bets were off. We stopped trying to pretend we were okay. This new revelation was just icing on the cake that was getting harder and harder to swallow.

I almost didn’t go to work, but I knew staying at home alone would only make me more miserable. When I arrived at the café, I decided going in the back door would be best for my mental health. I swear the people in this town were like barometers; they could sense when a storm was brewing. I already knew people were talking about us. I knew I needed to gear up for when they found out my husband had a child. I was serious about moving, or at least taking a very long vacation.

I did love this town, but the tabloids had nothing on the people of Merryton. If given the chance they could probably solve the secret of Stonehenge and the Bermuda Triangle. The town motto could be “inquiring minds want to know and we will find out.”

I sneaked into my office and settled in at my desk. While my laptop booted up I picked up the wedding photo of Blake and me that I kept next to my phone. The photographer caught this perfect moment at our reception when we were looking at one another like no one else existed. When we were first together we did that often. It was so easy to get lost in him. We didn’t even need to speak; we just knew what the other was thinking and we were content with that. Now we barely noticed each other, or we stayed out of the other’s way.

I held back the tears. I had already redone my makeup twice before I left the house.

I spent the morning working on payroll and scheduling, then my stomach growled. I supposed I should try and eat something. I had lost my appetite again after talking to Blake that morning. Besides, I really needed to quit closing myself off. I never used to spend this much time in my office; my favorite place was out among our customers. I even liked taking orders. I had just gotten tired of people feeling sorry for me, so I did what I could to protect myself.

No more, I decided. I stood up, took a deep breath, and walked out to the main area that was bustling with the lunchtime crowd. As soon as I came around the corner it was like the whole café turned and looked my way. Instead of retreating like I wanted to, I smiled. Several patrons smiled back and then returned to their food, papers, phones, or people. All except one person, Easton Cole. I was surprised to see him there for lunch. He frequently stopped by in the morning on his way to his practice, but I never saw him for lunch. In the morning he always ordered the same thing, an orange roll and herbal tea to go. The orange rolls were to die for, if I did say so myself. They were the reason I originally took up Zumba and kickboxing.

As Easton kept looking at me thoughtfully, I made my way to his table near the unlit fireplace. Looking at the fireplace reminded me of my husband. A few years ago when I took over the café from my mom, I had wanted to redesign the interior. I wanted Summers Construction to do the job, but Blake insisted I get several other bids besides his before he would agree to do it. I couldn’t understand his thought process. He was my husband and he was the best. I knew I would never choose anyone else. His bid ended up being the best and he did a beautiful job, but he never did explain to me why he made me go through the motions. I’d asked several times and all he would say was it was a good business practice—I just wanted him to be my husband.

I guess in way he ended up being more than a contractor. He took my original designs and budget and went above and beyond what I could afford. The fireplace was a testament to that. I wanted something simple, but he ended up building a circular stone fireplace with stone benches coming out of it. It looked like something out of an upscale ski lodge. It was breathtaking and it totally transformed my café. I couldn’t tell you how many people inquired who the builder was. I know he has had requests to replicate his handiwork, but as far as I know he’s declined.

“Jessie,” Easton said as I drew near.

“Hey, Easton. How are you?”

Unexpectedly, he stood up and pulled the chair across from him out for me. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Sure.” I was more than curious. I sat down and he quickly took his seat. I studied him for a moment and he, like my husband, looked worn. It wasn’t from just being a busy doctor, either. It made me wonder if the rumors about his wife were true.

He ran his hands through his curtained golden-blonde hair that was darkening and had some gray mixed in. I think he was a few years older than Blake. “How are you, Jessie?”

I wondered if he knew. I would have been highly surprised if Blake had mentioned Madeline to him. That wasn’t Blake’s style at all. He was a very private person, which made living in Merryton difficult for him. Privacy was like an extinct animal around here.

“I’m trying,” I responded.

He gave a knowing nod and grin. “It’s better than the alternative,” he replied.

“I suppose so. How’s Emmy?”

His demeanor instantly changed to that of a concerned father. His brows furrowed and his brown eyes darkened. “She’s doing … as good as can be expected.”

“Anything I can do?” I wasn’t sure why I asked. I was a complete wreck and didn’t seem capable at the moment, but it sounded like the old me and I missed me.

“I was thinking about joining your baseball team this summer. Shane mentioned you had a couple spots you needed to fill. The thing is, I would need someone to watch Emmy during some of the games and maybe even during the practices.”

“I would love to.” I had been worried we wouldn’t get enough guys together this year to form a team. I had been sponsoring a team for the city’s adult summer league for the past four years. Shane, Abby’s husband, was the team captain. A couple of our regulars couldn’t play and we’d been scrambling to find willing and able bodies. We were determined to take down Riley Insurance. The last two years we had met them in the championship only to lose. Landon Riley was going to have his over-inflated ego knocked down a few notches this year.

“That would be great, thank you,” he responded.

“No. Thank you. You play well, right?”

He chuckled some. “I know my way around a ball field.”

“Perfect.” I smiled and then stood up. I was still hungry and didn’t want people to start talking. More and more I was beginning to believe the rumors about Easton and his wife were true, and I had a feeling that their marriage was probably in more trouble than mine. I didn’t need to add any more rumors to the mill. “I’ll see you later.”

“Hey,” he called after I had turned around, “Do you think you could talk Blake into being the second guy?”

I shook my head sullenly. “No.” I turned back around before he could respond. I had wanted Blake to play every year. I thought it would be fun. And it was fun. I loved spending some of my summer at the ballpark with my friends, but I wanted Blake to be part of it. I wanted him to be with me at team parties and I wouldn’t mind seeing him in baseball pants. I knew he would do them justice. But every year he had declined, citing it was his busiest time of year. I had no plans to ask him this summer.

On that dismal note, I said hi to a few more regulars and then made my way to the kitchen. There I found my staff busy as bees. Aaron was overseeing it all and he looked surprised to see me.

“How’s it going?” Aaron asked.

“It’s going,” I smiled. “I was just coming back to say hi and perhaps whip up a smoothie. I also wanted to talk to you about my ideas for a new fall lineup.”

He looked pleased that I wanted to include him.

I knew I should let him do what I hired him to do. Letting go was hard, especially when it seemed like there was nothing else to hold on to.

I spent the rest of the afternoon with Aaron discussing my graham treats and ideas. He added his own ideas—individualized cheesecakes with graham cracker crusts. We already served triple-chocolate mousse pies that way and they were a big seller. I liked the addition, plus my mom had a killer recipe I could steal and perhaps put my own spin on. I still needed to work on both the graham cookie and the cannoli shell recipes.

On my way home from work, I stopped by City Market and picked up some additional ingredients for my experiments. I planned on making a mess in my kitchen tonight. I had nothing better going on, except maybe reruns of NCIS. I had a tiny crush on Mark Harmon. He had aged to perfection. Michael Weatherly wasn’t half-bad, either.

I walked into my empty house, pulled up season three of NCIS and hit play, then immediately went to work. Even though I wouldn’t be watching it, the sound was comforting. I hated always feeling like I was home alone.

I started out by making a cookie using graham flour, but it was too soft and there was no way it would stand up to the dark chocolate. I called my mom to get her take and she suggested adding oatmeal to the next batch to firm it up some. While it did add some firmness I didn’t like the texture or the taste.

I pondered on what to try next and ate dinner, drooling over Mark Harmon a bit. It was then I was struck with genius. I got up immediately and ran several sleeves of store bought graham crackers through my food processor. I omitted the chocolate chunks and substituted the graham cracker crumbs for flour in my world-famous chocolate chip cookie recipe. Okay, it wasn’t world famous, but it was a highly sought-after commodity in Merryton.

I waited impatiently for the first batch to bake and cool. I had to say I was pleased with the texture, consistency, and taste when it came time for testing. I’d just have to see how it held up to the chocolate coating.

While I melted dark chocolate over my double boiler, my husband walked in. I looked at the clock on my stove—it was barely after nine, another long day for him. Sometimes I wondered how he found the stamina, or if he just didn’t want to be at home, so he used work as a good excuse to stay away.

He didn’t say anything, but I heard him trudge up the stairs to the guest bedroom and then heard the water from the guest bathroom shower. I tried not to let it bother me. We hadn’t exactly left things on a good note that morning. I wasn’t even sure that was possible. Our lives were about to change in a major way, and I don’t think either of us knew if our unstable marriage was going to be able to withstand it.

My mom had reassured me that it could, but we had to make the choice to save and fortify it. She had tried to convince me that perhaps Madeline was a blessing in disguise. I had a hard time swallowing that. Regardless, she reminded me that no matter my feelings for Blake at the moment, there was probably a very confused and frightened girl living in Salt Lake City. I had not stopped to think about that. I felt terrible for only being so worried about how this affected me. I had forgotten this girl had a mother facing an uphill battle with cancer. It was a sobering thought.

I heard Blake make his way back down while I was dipping cookies. He still didn’t say anything, but I could hear him draw near. He came close, and I felt the smallest of kisses on the base of my neck. I shivered at the touch. I had missed small gestures like that.

“Hi,” he said from behind me. 

“Hi.”

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Experimenting.” I would have loved to ask if he wanted to try a cookie, but he was not into dessert of any kind. I sometimes still wondered how we ended up together. He should have married someone like Easton’s ex-wife. She was a clinical nutritionist.

He didn’t respond other than to walk to the commercial-size refrigerator and take a peek inside.

“I made some vegetable beef soup, if you’re interested.”

“Sounds good,” he said, to my surprise.

He rarely ate anything I prepared, which was disappointing to me. Before I ever got married or met Blake I thought for sure the one thing I would do well as a wife was cooking and baking. I did both well, but it wasn’t Blake’s cup of tea.

I moved over so Blake could use the burner next to me. He refused to microwave anything.

While I continued dipping, he stirred his dinner. We didn’t say anything to one another for a couple of minutes, but I could feel him staring at me.

“What?” I finally asked as I dipped my last cookie.

“I talked to Easton today.”

I looked over to him. “So did I.”

“He mentioned that. He also mentioned you need an extra player for your team.”

“We do. I hope we find someone quick or we won’t be able to register this year,” I said as I carefully walked my dipped cookies over to the refrigerator to aid in the hardening process.

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “A girl gets tired of rejection.”

“I’ve never rejected you, Jessica.”

That was a matter of opinion. I slid my cookies into the fridge. “So what are you getting at?” I asked into the refrigerator.

He came behind me and closed the refrigerator door. I turned and backed up against the cool stainless steel and he leaned his shoulder against it and close to me. I caught my breath as I looked up at him. I had forgotten how sexy he was. His gray eyes almost looked like charcoal burning as they drifted over me. For a brief moment, I remembered why I fell in love with him. He affected me like no one ever had, like no one but him could.

“Jessica,” he said barely above a whisper, “I wish you would ask me.”

That was his way. He wouldn’t volunteer. He wanted it to be my choice—no, I think he needed it to be my choice.

“What about work?” I managed to say. He was literally taking my breath away.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“There will be practices, and when the season starts sometimes we play twice a week.”

He looked at me as if to say, And?

I thought for a moment more and stared into those eyes of his. He leaned in a little bit closer. I could smell the mint on his breath and I was tempted to taste it. It had been far too long. “Blake, would you—”

“Yes,” he said before I could finish. And before I could give into temptation he pushed off the refrigerator and went back to stirring his dinner.

I almost reached into the freezer and grabbed a few ice cubes. There was some definite heat in the kitchen and it wasn’t coming from the stove.