“Thanks.” If her mom was in the mood for pampering, it could only help her cause. Even if she could kill for a cup of decent coffee. But living without caffeine was supposed to be good for her heart. At least if she believed what she told her patients.
While her mom prepared the tea, Jess sat at the wooden table in the window bay and ate a spoonful of yogurt. Ugh. Maybe a bit of honey? Honey wasn’t like sugar, right?
She rolled her eyes and put the spoon down. Carbs were carbs. Maybe she wasn’t hungry enough if she was still so picky. And she hadn’t come to the kitchen for breakfast anyway. “Mom, I ran into your tenant yesterday. She was up early.”
Her mom raised her eyebrows. “Why don’t you say Lena? Tenant sounds so impersonal.” She placed a steaming mug of tea in front of Jess, then sat down opposite with her own. She added a teaspoon of honey and offered the jar to Jess.
Sighing, she shook her head. Had her mom read her thoughts? Focus on the conversation, Jess. “Yeah, fine, Lena. Don’t you think it’s strange she’s out early every day?”
“Like you were? She told me you met, and you had exercised. Should you be alone while doing it?” She managed to sound nonaccusatory, just concerned, but she still induced an immediate guilty conscience in the way only mothers could.
Jess winced. She should take notes to learn the skill herself before Ella reached puberty. “I wasn’t doing anything strenuous.” Not a complete lie—it wouldn’t have been strenuous if she’d retained a fifth of her old fitness level. Best to leave this topic and seek another way to learn more about Lena. “Has she been living here for long?”
“Almost a year, maybe ten months or so. Since I renovated the garden house.” Her mom blew over her mint tea and took a small sip.
Now she mentioned it, Jess remembered her saying something about renovating and renting the garden house. But Jess’s mind had been on her midlife crisis and the idea she needed a baby, a family of her own, someone to love and cherish. She had avoided really talking to her mother ever since because she’d been afraid she wouldn’t understand or approve. No wonder she had missed the news about someone living here.
Again, guilt scratched on the door, but Jess refused to let it in. This talk wasn’t about her failures as a daughter. The purpose was to gather information.
Jess leaned back in her chair. “How did you find Lena?”
“I shop at her stall at the farmers market, and she had put up a sign that she was looking for a place to live as soon as possible. She told me she couldn’t stay at her old apartment any longer.”
Now they were getting to the good stuff. “What happened at her last apartment? Why did she have to leave?”
“Oh, that was bad. Her roommate wanted her to pay extra because she didn’t like Lena’s job, so she couldn’t afford the place anymore.”
That story seemed highly suspicious. Jess stared into her tea as she thought about her next question. Her mom had left the leaves on the stalk, and it looked like limp seaweed. Not very appealing. She preferred her drinks from a reliable source, not homegrown. It smelled refreshing, though. She took a sip. Not too bad. “Why is a job at the farmers market offensive? Does she sell fish?”
“Oh, no, not that job. She teaches relaxation techniques too. She takes clients at home several evenings during the week. Her roommate knew about it beforehand but changed her mind later. Now that Lena lives in the garden house alone, that isn’t a problem anymore.”
Relaxation techniques? What did that even mean? And strangers were coming and going through the garden in the evenings? That didn’t sound like a great idea. Jess could almost feel her blood pressure rise as she thought about it. Her mom was too trusting. “Why does she have two jobs?” Was working at the market a cover for shady activities in the evening?
“She actually has three.” She held up her hand and counted them on her fingers. “Farmers market Thursday and Saturday, teaching on various evenings, and she works at a cute organic café almost every day.”
Her mom went on about the virtues of the café, but Jess wasn’t listening anymore. It sounded like a bunch of hippies had opened a place to hang out, nowhere she intended to visit.
The answer to what was wrong with Lena was obvious. Money must be a major problem. Did her mother even get a security deposit? Did she check the woman’s credit status? Probably not. She had seen a friendly face and someone in need and had reacted. The next thing Jess knew, Maggie would be paying Lena’s bills and writing checks for special projects.
Jess needed to find out more about the activities at the garden house and Lena’s financial situation before her mother got drawn in too deep.
Chapter Seven
Lena pedaled the last few yards up the drive, then swung down and stretched. Finally. Her legs felt every one of the three miles from the bus after the long day at the café. But when the car wouldn’t start this morning, she’d had no other choice.
She pushed the bike through the gate and behind the garage. As she turned the corner, the sight of Jess nearly made her groan. She was too tired for this.
For once, the woman didn’t appear imposing. Her upper half had disappeared behind the paper bin. She wore jeans that hugged her curves.
Lena stumbled and caught herself before falling headfirst into the compost bin; she’d grazed one of the stones bordering the narrow lane. “Shit.” She should have watched where she was going instead of ogling her rude neighbor.
Jess jerked her head out of the paper bin with a crimson face.
They stared at each other. What was happening? It wasn’t as if she had disturbed Jess
