He gave her a half-smile, then looked down at the dog who had parked by his feet. “What do you think, Bear? Think maybe it’s time you’re the furriest critter in this house?”
Bear wagged his tail.
J.R. looked up at her with a hint of a light in his eyes. “Bear says it’s time.”
“Then we have a plan. First I feed you. Then we do a makeover.”
And for the first time since she’d heard the news that her husband was alive, Jess’s smile wasn’t forced. For an instant, a very brief instant, she’d seen a glimpse of the old J.R. That half-smile, that silly sense of humor, and it made her heart glad.
Chapter 30
J.R. WATCHED JESS FROM HIS recliner as she hauled boxes of Christmas decorations out of the hall closet, even though it was only the first week in December.
“Business drops off drastically in late autumn,” she told him, chattering away as she always did. It wasn’t that she annoyed him. He understood. She was simply attempting to fill him in on her life, which was now his life.
She really was a very attractive woman. Kind. Attentive. He wished he was attracted to her. It would make it so much easier for both of them.
He appreciated that she didn’t try to smother him. It would have been easy to do, since she was a nurse, but she kept it in check, asked necessary questions, and otherwise assumed he’d let her know if he had a problem.
“I cut store hours from November first to April thirtieth, opening at eight A.M. and closing at five. I also close up on Sundays,” she explained, then stopped and had to put some muscle into dragging down a heavy box. “During the summer, I have part-time help, and believe me, I need it.”
She didn’t hear him come up behind her and jumped when he reached above and around her to help.
“Thanks,” she said with a surprised smile.
“Where do you want this?”
“Over there on the table with the rest of them.”
Again, he appreciated that she didn’t make a big deal out of the fact that he actually did something other than take up space.
“This time of year, though,” she continued, smiling at him, “running the store is a one-woman show.”
The fact was, she often spent the better part of the day upstairs in the apartment and only headed down when the bell above the door alerted her that she had a customer.
“Go ahead,” she said, when she caught him eyeing the boxes. “Open them up. I’ve kept everything over the years. There are some decorations in there you made when you were in Boy Scouts.” She laughed. “I’m sure you’ll figure out which ones they are.”
Because he was up and because she seemed to want him to, he opened the first box. Garland, lights, glittering glass balls… and at the bottom of the box, another smaller box. Inside were three old pine cones sparkling with glitter; old-fashioned gold curling ribbon had been glued onto the stems, then looped so they could be hung on a tree. A picture of a boy who looked to be about eight years old had been taped to the middle of a bell that had been sloppily cut out of red construction paper. Another length of gold curling ribbon had been threaded through a hole made by a paper punch, then tied, making a loop to fit over a tree branch.
She walked up beside him, smelling clean and healthy and like a little bit of the maple syrup she’d served with his pancakes this morning.
“Guess I found my decorations.”
She smiled. “I always loved that picture of you.”
He studied the boy in the photo, wishing he could conjure up some connection. “He looks like an ornery little twerp.”
She laughed this time. “You were hell on wheels. You had this old bike you used to ride on the roads all around the lake. Cars would come up behind you, and you wouldn’t get out of their way—just to tick them off.”
“Sounds like I was a candidate for juvie hall.”
“Nah. You were never mean-spirited. Besides, Brad never let you get too far out of line.”
“What happened to my mother?” he asked abruptly.
She looked at him sharply. “You… you remember about your mother?”
He lifted a shoulder, then pulled a kitchen chair out and sat down. “I know she wasn’t around. That’s the one thing that came to me over there. That I hadn’t had a mother.”
She touched a hand to his shoulder, and for once, he didn’t feel like shrugging it off.
“She left. I won’t defend her, but your father was an alcoholic. I guess she couldn’t take it. Why she left you boys with him, I’ll never know.”
“How old was I?”
“When she left? You were five, I think. Brad was ten. Your dad tucked into the bottle even deeper then. You were fifteen when he wrapped his truck around a tree one night.”
“So Brad…” He let the thought trail off.
“Pretty much raised you.”
They talked then for the better part of an hour about his high school days, sports, and dating, and for once, he asked the questions instead of relying on her to offer information.
“What are you going to do with all this stuff?” he asked when he’d absorbed as much as he could about the boy who had become the man he didn’t remember.
“Hang it on the tree… as soon as I get one.”
He glanced out a window. The sky was brilliant blue, but the indoor/outdoor thermometer by the sink said it was twenty-eight degrees Fahrenheit outside.
“Do you want to go with me?” she asked, with a hesitance he completely understood. He’d been back three weeks, and he hadn’t once left the apartment. “There’s a tree farm between here and the Falls. I usually go cut my own.”
She’d been trying so hard. His brother had been trying so hard. Maybe it was time
Her smile was too happy, too bright, for such a small concession on his part. “Great idea. We’ll go as soon as I close the store at five.”
