Bree pulled a card from her pocket and handed it over.
Roses are red, violets are blue, I really wish, I were there with you.
She looked up from the card, laughing. “You wrote this, didn’t you? Will would never write such lousy poetry.”
“How do you know?” Bree demanded indignantly. “Maybe he would.”
Jess stood up and hugged her sister. “Thank you for trying to make me feel better. Why didn’t he just call me and tell me what was going on?”
“I think he thought a gesture like flowers would say more. The guy’s obviously crazy about you. More important, I think he gets how you think. You were up here thinking he’d abandoned you, weren’t you?”
Jess nodded sheepishly. “It’s nuts, I know. It’s not as if we had specific plans.”
“Don’t you suppose that reaction can be traced straight back to Mom leaving? If our own mother could go off and leave us, what’s to stop anyone else from going?”
Jess nodded. “Exactly. And for so long I blamed myself. I thought I was too much trouble and that’s why she’d gone.”
Bree regarded her with surprise. “I didn’t realize that. I should have, I guess.”
“Why? You’re not that much older than me. You weren’t much more than a kid yourself. Abby knew, and Gram.”
“Did Dad?”
Jess shook her head. “Not unless Gram told him. He was in so much pain himself, he was pretty much oblivious to the way the rest of us felt.”
Bree pulled her back down to the floor and sat beside her, shoulder to shoulder. “You do know that not everyone leaves, right? I trust Jake with all my heart. He won’t take off. Ditto with Trace. Abby’s stuck with him for the rest of her life.” She faced Jess squarely. “I think Will falls into the same category. I think he’s one of those men who will mate for life.”
Jess smiled at her phrasing. “I think so, too,” she admitted, then met her sister’s gaze with a troubled expression. “What if I’m not one of those women? I know Jake, Mack, half the people who know us are worried about that. Even Connor and Kevin, who know me best, have their doubts I can stick it out.”
“They’re all worrying about nothing,” Bree assured her. “You’ll take your time, fret over this from every angle, but once you decide, whether it’s on Will or someone else, you’ll stick with him. Personally, I think it is Will. I saw something in your eyes when you talked about him the other day. It’s the same look Abby gets when she talks about Trace, or Kevin when he sees Shanna, or Connor spots Heather, or even when Mom and Dad see each other. Will’s the one, sweetie, but don’t take my word for it. Wait until you’re sure, but don’t walk away because you’re scared.”
Jess sighed. “It’s too late,” she admitted. “I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.”
16
After Bree left, Jess put Will’s flowers on the night table beside her bed where she’d see them first thing in the morning. The lovely scent filled her room and stirred her senses. They also stirred some kind of sentimental reaction she’d never experienced before.
In the time she’d been working in the attic, the weather had turned from a crisp, sunny fall afternoon to a cold, dreary rain. Though she had no idea when Will was likely to get home after dealing with his patient, she felt an unexpected need to be there waiting for him when he returned. Acting on impulse, she grabbed her purse, a rain jacket, and went down to the kitchen.
“Gail, is there any soup on hand?” she asked, already poking around in the refrigerator.
“I froze some of the last batch of vegetable soup I made,” Gail said. “Want me to defrost that?”
Jess shook her head. What a day like today called for was Gram’s potato soup and maybe a loaf of crusty bread.
“There’s bread, though, right?”
Gail pointed to the counter. “Whole grain, still warm from the oven. I made a couple of extra loaves. I thought you might like it tonight. It seems like that kind of day. Anything that’s left will be good for toast for breakfast.”
“You’re fabulous. Thank you,” she said sincerely. “Wrap a loaf up for me, would you?” Then she called her grandmother. “Hi, Gram.”
“Well, hello,” Gram said. “I’m guessing you have a hankering for some of my soup.”
Once again, Jess was taken aback by her grandmother’s intuition. “How on earth did you know that? Have you turned into a mind reader now?”
Gram laughed. “Hardly, though some said my mother had what they called the second sight. In my case, it’s just knowing each of my grandchildren. Whenever the weather takes a turn like it did today, you were always the first one in the kitchen sniffing around to see if I’d made potato soup.”
“And have you?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t let you down, would I? Stop by and we’ll eat together. I’d love the company.”
Jess flushed guiltily. “Would you mind terribly if I took it to go? I thought I’d take some over to Will’s, but I will stay and visit with you while you eat.”
“That’ll do,” Gram said without even a hint of resentment in her voice. Somehow she always managed to sound eager to see her grandchildren for whatever time they could spare. She never tried to inflict guilt over the timing or infrequency of their visits. “I’ll see you when you get here. Drive carefully.”
“I will. See you soon,” Jess said, then grabbed another loaf of bread and a few of Gail’s cookies for her grandmother before heading out.
“I’m not your personal chef, you know,” Gail called after her, feigning exasperation.
“Next best thing,” Jess retorted, laughing. “Thanks. You’re an angel. No wonder our guests rave about you!”
When she reached Gram’s
