“Sure. Truck down again?”
“Nope.” Judy gave him a proud smile. “We traded the old beast in for a mini-van. Finn dropped me off here and went to Old Town to pick it up.”
“Well, glad to hear it.” P.J. said it and meant it. He was glad that the Nelsons were replacing the rust bucket of a truck. They sure as hell were gonna need something reliable for their growing tribe. “Timmy’s out in the yard breaking up boxes. You can go right through to the back exit and tell him I said to give you a ride home. He has the keys to the van with him.”
“You’re a doll. P.J. McCabe.” Judy Nelson smiled at him and when she turned around, her protruding belly hit Juliet ‘s own very flat hips.
“And to think that I’m only in my fifth month.” Judy apologized with a tired smile. Then she took her expansive baby bump, her three tow headed littles, and headed for the door.
“So, what do you think about the golden boy bailing on the Pats?” P.J. wasn’t sure how to approach a conversation with Juliet, but he figured he would go with something safe. Since there was really not much to say about the weather, he decided to go with the sports angle.
“I’m sorry?” She questioned cautiously.
He lifted his chin towards the top of her head. “The hat. You’re wearing a New England Patriots cap. Figured you were a fan.”
“Oh.” Juliet reached up and touched the bill of her hat as if just remembering it was there. “To be honest, I happened to be driving through Massachusetts, and I bought this at a convenience store to keep the sun off my eyes.”
P.J. raised an eyebrow at her.
“What?” She asked.
“When I asked Reggie about you, he said you had lived in Boston.”
Now it was Juliet’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Why did you ask Reggie about me?”
“You know, just curious in a who’s the new neighbor kind of way.”
“I guess that’s reasonable.” Juliet frowned and began to tug at a small piece of hair. “What did he tell you?”
“Not much. Just that you put down Boston as a former address.”
“Yes, yes I did put down Boston.” Juliet said and left it at that.
“You have a lot of tattoos.” Juliet decided to steer the conversation away from herself and back to him. And really, having no tattoos herself, but definitely having a few parts of her body she would like to have covered, Juliet was honestly interested in all the ink that P.J. was sporting.
“Uh-huh.” He nodded and waited. P.J. had gotten his first tattoo when he was fourteen years old. He had noticed early on that the ink was like a chick magnet. Those bad boys had gotten him laid more often than any cheesy pick up line would have done.
But this was not that.
This chick with the pale skin, ridiculous hair and haunted eyes was not looking to get laid. That thought was so ridiculous P.J. almost smirked.
He stretched out his arm and held it still. “You into ink?”
Juliet shrugged, but leaned in to look. “People say they can cover scars.”
“Yeah, they can. One of these beauties is covering up a bullet hole.”
“Really?” Juliet’s eyes lit with interest and peered closely at the outstretched bicep. “Which one?”
A brief silence followed while P.J. held Juliet’s eyes with his own. Then, because he suddenly had a devilish urge to get a rise out of this woman, P.J. really couldn’t help himself.
“It’s not on my arm.” He said as his hand moved to unfasten the black belt that set low on his hips.
Then P.J. winked at Juliet.
He was instantly gratified to see Juliet’s pale face blush a bright pink. Then she took her bag and hurried to the door. The last thing she heard before the door closed behind her was the sound of his laughter.
It was a few days later that Juliet woke up to a beautiful day. Soft billowy clouds hung like giant puffs of cotton in a sky that was the color of a freshly hatched robin’s egg. A soft, cool breeze coaxed the wind chime into an uneven melody.
Juliet stepped out onto the porch with a hot cup of coffee in her hand. The wooden swing creaked and swayed as she tucked one leg under the other and inhaled deeply. The acrid aroma of the fresh coffee mixed with the tangy smell of pine. Juliet inhaled deeply and thought about the place that she now called home. The town itself was small and the shops on the main street were an eclectic mix of confectionaries, small restaurants, a pharmacy, a clothing thrift shop, and two or three trendy boutiques. There was a large common in the middle of the town that boasted a large, oval gazebo. On Sundays, the drum and bugle corps used the common to practice and the sounds of percussion and brass instruments floated through the air. The precise moves of the flag holders mixed with the happy twirl of batons as they were flown high in the sky and caught with expert precision.
Kids played jump rope and kick ball in the streets. Moms walked in tandem with their baby carriages on wide tree lined sidewalks. On the third Thursday of every month, there was a street festival.
Port Harbor was a friendly, peaceful, family oriented type of town. Layla had been right…it was the perfect place to begin again. Juliet felt a sense of comfort here and just hoped that it would last. Filled with cautious optimism about what the future might hold, Juliet drained
