Ethan liked me, I knew. I couldn’t miss that, what with the hugs and the like.
Amber, I wasn’t certain.
So I asked, “Even Amber?”
“Amber likes boys, makeup, shoes, clothes and boys is worth a repeat since she likes them so much. You’re all about three of those so I figure she’ll put up with you. What she doesn’t like is schoolwork, her dad, her mom, helpin’ out around the house and pumping gas into her car. I know that last one since I’ve had to go get her five times when she’s run out of gas and she’s had her license for two months.”
“Oh dear,” I murmured.
“That’s about it,” he agreed.
Wishing to make him feel better, I asked, “Isn’t it normal for a girl her age not to like those things, including her parents?”
“Maybe,” he replied then continued, “But she doesn’t like me because I’m precisely what you said I am. A dad, a protective one and one who knows what that Noah kid has on his mind when he asks her to a concert in Boston which would mean they gotta spend the night in Boston. And I’m strict about that shit and her gettin’ decent grades because my girl’s smart as fuck and she could do something with her brain, so she should. And she doesn’t like her mother because she’s about gettin’ laid, the more often the better, the younger the guy she lets in there the better. The bitch hit mid-life crisis early, shot right to cougar and Amber’s not big on her mom bein’ competition for boyfriends.”
I gasped loudly at this shocking news.
Jake repeated, “That’s about it,” when I did.
“Is she, well…Ethan’s—?”
He shook his head. “Conner and Amber have the same mom. Married a woman in between, thankfully didn’t get her knocked up seein’ as that lasted three months. Ethan’s got a different mom. That lasted three years. She lives in Raleigh now with her new man and she’s all about shovin’ her nose up his ass and that means treatin’ his kids like gold and forgettin’ she made one of her own.”
“Oh no,” I whispered, not liking the sound of that at all.
He muttered, “Yep. I can pick ‘em,” and took another sip of coffee.
I took one too thinking, poor Ethan.
And poor Amber.
“Yo! Jake! Food’s up!” I heard yelled through the wind and I looked back at The Shack to see two Styrofoam containers sitting on the ledge outside the window but Tom was still hidden in the murky shadows of the diminutive ramshackle structure.
“Be back,” Jake said, got up and went to get our food.
He came back and set mine in front of me. This included a see-through plastic wrapped parcel that held a napkin and plastic cutlery.
“Crab, cream cheese and green onion omelet,” Jake declared.
I couldn’t believe it but that actually sounded delicious.
Tentatively, I opened the container.
It looked delicious too and the aroma wafting up smelled divine.
I set my coffee aside, grabbed my plastic wrapped parcel and asked, “How long were you together with Conner and Amber’s mom?’
“Seven years,” he answered. “She lives local and I wish she’d move to Raleigh too.” He paused then finished on a mutter, “Or maybe Bangladesh.”
I turned my eyes to him and smiled at his joke.
Then I looked back down to my omelet and thus missed his eyes changing before they dropped to my mouth.
“You, um…said that Amber charges money to look after Ethan and that Gran would watch him after school.” I forked into my omelet and brought it to my mouth as I looked back at him. “While I’m in Magdalene, I can help out if you need someone to watch him.”
“Brings us full circle, Slick,” he stated and before I could get into the “Slick” business, he continued, “You thought more on your plans?”
Actually, I had, over a glass of wine consumed staring at the dark sea from the window seat of the light room last night.
Therefore, I shared them with him.
“I think I’ve decided to stay for a bit. Take a kind of sabbatical. I can do a lot of what I do for Henry from here, given a phone and Internet, the second Gran doesn’t have but it’s easy enough to get access. So I won’t get bored. But after losing Gran, I’d like to feel”—I searched for a word and found it—“settled for a while.”
I took my bite and he was right. It didn’t knock me on my behind but it was shockingly delicious. It wasn’t just crab, cream cheese and green onion. There was a subtle hint of garlic as well, the pepper was clearly freshly ground and the crab was succulent.
Superb.
“That’s a good idea, Josie.” I heard Jake say and I lifted my eyes to him to see him studying me intently. “Slow down a bit. Deal with Lydie passin’.” He grinned. “Hang with us, people who loved her like you did.”
After years of a jets-set lifestyle that was interesting and fulfilling, that still sounded marvelous.
That said, there were things to discuss, things to know.
And I set about doing that.
I dug back into my omelet and said before taking another bite, “I’d like to understand that better, Jake.”
“Understand what better?”
I chewed, swallowed and looked to him again. “How you came to know Gran so well.”
“We don’t got the time to get into that before you gotta be at the Weavers.”
That sounded like a stall tactic and I opened my mouth but he lifted a hand.
“Tell you it all, honey. All of it. But seriously, it might not be a long story but it might bring up questions and I’d like to have the time and focus to answer them.”
That was thoughtful, nice and I had a feeling he was right. I would have a lot of questions and I’d like him to have the time and focus to answer them. So I nodded and took another bite.
“Owe you dinner, take you out, give it all to you.” I heard him say as I munched.
I swallowed and looked to him. “That sounds doable.”
He grinned.
My phone in my purse rang.
I let it and continued eating.
It kept ringing.
“You gonna get that?”
I looked back to Jake and answered, “No. It’s rude to answer the phone during a meal or in someone’s company.”
He grinned again and said, “Babe, don’t mind and we’re not at a meal. We’re at The Shack.”
I wasn’t certain about the distinction but our conversation turned moot when my phone stopped ringing.
I took another bite of omelet.
My phone started ringing again.
I felt my brows draw together.
“Babe, get it. Like I said, don’t mind and someone obviously wants you,” Jake urged.
I nodded, set aside my cutlery that was so light I was worried the breeze would sweep it away (so I tucked it as best I could under what remained of my omelet) and reached to my purse.
I got my phone and the display informed me the caller was Henry.
I looked to Jake and said, “My apologies, Jake. It’s Henry. Something might be wrong.”
His face changed minutely, going slightly blank but more noncommittal and he jerked up his chin in what I was deducing was his telling me I should take the call.
I took it and put the phone to my ear, greeting, “Henry.”
“What the fuck?”
I blinked at the table because Henry had never said this to me, nor had he ever spoken in that tone. Or at least, with the last, not to me.
“I…pardon?” I asked.
“What the fuck, Josephine?”
What on earth?
“I-I’m sorry,” I stammered. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes, something’s wrong. You haven’t called in two days.”
Oh dear. I actually hadn’t.
“Henry—”
“Worried about you Josephine. Told you to keep in touch, check in, let me know you’re all right.”
“You were traveling to Rome yesterday,” I reminded him.