Chapter
JFK drove through a middle-class neighborhood looking for the address. It had turned out to be easy to find Clover’s contact info—Cousin Dom. Or uncle or nephew. JFK couldn’t keep it straight. Anyway, there was a tiny chance Dom would keep it a secret.
The small house his phone led him to had about a thousand flowers in front of it and that was in winter. The flower beds were snowed over but they had fake flowers in planters, real flowers in pots visible inside, and even flowers painted on the mailbox. Clover and her husband were entitled to live their lives how they wanted, but to JFK it bordered on obnoxious. However, if she had any know-how that could get him back in with Mercy, he didn’t care how many flowers she had.
When JFK rang the doorbell he heard tiny excited voices running around inside. The door opened to reveal two tiny, blue-eyed girls staring up at him.
“Hi, uh, is Clover here?”
They both nodded up at him, but didn’t make a move to go get her. Apparently not everyone in the Jewell extended family had perfect manners. That was good news; JFK would fit right in with the three-year olds.
“Can you get her?”
They nodded again, and still didn’t move.
What now? Ring the doorbell again? Call out for Clover? Stand there and wait until the girls were old enough to comprehend enough English to process what he was asking?
Around the time he was considering saying, “Boo!” and scaring the girls to their mother’s arms, Clover came around the corner smiling and waving him in.
As JFK started to step forward the little girls moved out of his way. Was he supposed to shake hands with a woman? Did he take off his shoes? Everything Dom had taught him was gone from his mind.
Looking down at the girls, Clover said, “You can let him in, now that Mama’s here. Say, ‘Please come in,’ and offer to shake his hand.”
In a mouse-voice, the bigger of the girls said, “Please come in,” then stepped back and held up her hand.
Taking a step forward, JFK reached down and shook the tiny hand. The smaller girl mimicked her sister. One of JFK’s fingers filled her hand.
“Have a seat,” said Clover, scooping up her kids and sitting on an oversized chair in the front room. The chair may have been normal sized, actually, but Clover was so tiny, it looked huge.
JFK sat on the couch.
“What’s the hang-up?” asked Clover. She looked as excited as a new firefighter heading to his first fire.
“I shot Mercy down and I want to have another chance to win her over.”
Clover nodded. “I heard about that. What’s the deal? She’s amazing, right?”
“So amazing,” said JFK. “She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”
“So?” urged Clover, but JFK didn’t know how to put into words everything he was feeling. “It’s obviously not about Mercy, so finish this sentence: I chased Mercy off because I …”
Slowly, JFK said, “I chased Mercy off because I was scared and I’m not good enough for her.”
“Okay, that helps.” Clover bounced the little one on her knee and thought for a second. “But you’re over that now? You discovered a hidden well of self-confidence?”
“No,” said JFK immediately. “I have no idea how to make myself believe that I actually have a snowball’s chance in h—hhheck with her. I mean, everything else aside, look at me and look at her.”
Clover did just that, scanning JFK from head to toe. He was still wearing his work clothes, worn-out jeans and faded PCFD shirt, both of which were a little too big for him.
JFK went on. “Did you hear what happened at church?”
Clover nodded, smirking slightly.
“What about the firefighters’ award dinner?”
Again, she nodded, but this time the smirk was gone and an indignant spark glinted in her eyes.
“I tried to make it up to her, but I don’t know if that’s ever possible.”
“I heard about her car,” said Clover.
JFK shrugged. That had been nothing compared to his ignoramus behavior.
Absentmindedly, she switched the girls to the opposite legs, and continued to bounce the little one. All of her concentration was still on JFK. She might be four-foot something, but she ran their meeting like a chairman of the board. Chairperson of the board.
“So you want to know how to believe in yourself.”
“Yeah,” answered JFK. “Are we, like, still in your area of expertise?”
“If it concerns a relationship, then absolutely. Here’s what you do: act like you believe in yourself. Convince yourself by doing it. How did you make the transition from a normal guy to a confident firefighter?” She paused. “What about becoming a chef instead of just a guy who had been through culinary school?” She gave him another second to think. “How did you win her over with your manners instead of making a fool of yourself?”
“How do you know so much about me?” JFK had barely heard about Clover and they’d never met before today.
“I take this seriously. I do my research. Now answer the question.”
“Those things were easy, I got the training I needed, then I did it.”
Clover smiled and it looked a little patronizing. “This is no different. You got the training from Uncle Dom, and he and I are both here to coach you. And as far as you being some hideous beast, I don’t know what mirrors you’re looking at, but Mercy doesn’t see you that way. And from what I’ve seen, I think you’ve got a lot going for you.”
JFK felt prickles of sweat on his forehead again.
“I wish I could tell you more,” added Clover, “but there is the issue of confidentiality. But let’s get back on track. Why did you dump her?”
How could he sum it all up succinctly?
Clover prompted him with a, “Hmm?”
“How honest should I be?” asked JFK.
“How badly do you want Mercy?”
That settled it. He had to be totally transparent. “Why did I dump her or why did I say I dumped her?”
“I know what you told her. You don’t like her family.”
“No offense,” said JFK.
“Offense taken. You going to be able to get over it?”
“It wasn’t really true.” He meant that. “Even though I really don’t like that guy Justice.”
“Well too bad, because, well, I’ll get to that in a minute. What was the real reason? All that stuff about not believing in yourself?”
“Basically,” said JFK. He let out the biggest sigh of his life. He never thought he’d be in therapy, much less about a woman who he wasn’t in a relationship with. “I usually push too hard and offend women so that I can be rejected for being a butthead. It’s easier than opening myself up for rejection. I couldn’t bring myself to do that to Mercy and somehow she never found any other reason to reject me. So I made up excuses.” Should he go on and tell her the rest? Yes, Mercy was worth it. “If you say anything about this to Emily or Dom I’ll deny it—”
“Complete confidentiality,” interjected Clover.
“I sabotage myself. And I’ve never done a job like this on myself before. Never had to because there’s never been anyone like her. I’m staying away because I want her so bad but it can never happen. At least that’s what I tell myself.”
“Well those days are over,” said Clover. “You start that crap again and I’ll be all over you because if Mercy isn’t buying that, neither am I.”
JFK nodded.
“She’s the only one allowed to make that call from here on out.” Clover raised her eyebrows just begging him to challenge her.
JFK would rather go into a fully-involved house fire with no turnouts than take on this spunky girl. He nodded again.
Clover nodded back. “Okay then. You’re not going to like this next part. Everyone knows Justice has a stick up his butt. Mercy hurt him as much as she hurt anyone back in her bad days, and he still holds a grudge.”
“What does he have to do with any of this? Why can’t we just avoid that guy for the rest of our lives?”
“Trust me,” said Clover, sitting back confidently and pulling both of her daughters in tight.
“I’m not going to publicly kiss his feet or anything.”
“Oh no,” agreed Clover. “I’ve got a much better idea.”
Her wicked smile made JFK wonder if he’d gotten himself in above his head.