Already Home (27 page)

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Authors: Susan Mallery

BOOK: Already Home
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After the funeral, everyone made their way to the family home. Jenna had already spent most of the morning cooking food from Serenity's stash of favorite recipes. She had made a lentil salad, sweet potatoes with curried beans, cookies and a whipped dessert called “Apricot Fluff.”

She and Beth ducked into the kitchen to bring out what had been made only to find every inch of surface covered with casserole dishes. There were instructions on all of them, along with notes to Tom and his sons about how the cook had felt about Serenity.

“These are wonderful,” Beth said. She dug around in a couple of drawers, then pulled out some paper and a pen. “I'm going to copy the notes and take them home with me. I
can print them up in different fonts, then make a scrapbook for Tom.”

“He would love that.”

“Poor man.” Beth read the nearest note, then started copying. “He's going to have a tough time.”

“They all are.”

Beth looked up at her. “Are you all right?”

Jenna nodded. “Thanks for coming with me, Mom. I couldn't have done this without you.”

“I'm happy to be here. You know I'd do anything for you.”

“I do.”

From the living room came the sound of a guitar followed by a man singing. It took her a second to realize the song was “Amazing Grace.”

Beth stopped writing and took Jenna's hand. Together they walked into the living room to join the others and finish the song.

Twenty-Two

T
he following Tuesday morning Jenna returned to the store. She found herself excited about getting back to the familiar routine of work. Violet had kept things running, which was a blessing. She was determined to give her new manager a week off as a gesture of thanks.

Stepping into her store was like coming home. She paused to enjoy the sight of full shelves, a crammed cooking class schedule and Violet sorting through food for the baskets they would sell.

“You're back!” Violet said, grinning at her. “I was hoping you'd come in today. People have been asking about you.”

“I have returned and I'm not leaving again ever. Well, I might take a vacation in a year. How have things been?”

“Busy,” Violet told her. “We're getting swamped with class requests.”

“That's what I want to hear.”

Although she'd spoken to Violet every day she'd been
gone, Jenna still had her friend take her through the highlights of what had been going on in the past ten days. While she was dealing with a lot of emotion, it felt good to be back at work, doing what she loved.

“The cast-iron cookware is doing great,” Violet said, taking her to that section of the store. “Having it in so many colors helps, too, but it takes up a lot of room.” She paused. “The landlord called while you were gone. The insurance company on the other side of us isn't going to be renewing its lease and he wondered if we wanted the space. He won't need an answer for about three weeks.”

“There's a thought,” Jenna murmured to herself. “We could put in an even bigger cooking area and let this part be all retail.”

“That's what I was thinking,” Violet said. “And I was thinking with the leftover space, we could have a little bistro that serves lunch. Maybe feature a different kind of cuisine each day. French on Monday, Italian on Tuesday, High Tea on Wednesday. That way the menu would be different and people would be comfortable coming back frequently.”

“I hadn't thought of that,” Jenna admitted, “but I like it. I know a lot of people at the culinary school both here and in Dallas. We could find a local chef who wants to work our lunch shift. Great idea.”

“Thanks.” Violet looked happy and excited as she spoke. “Only Ewe is a double space as well, so between us, we'd take up most of the block. Robyn and I have been talking about ways to do cross promotion. We're thinking of talking to the day spa one street over and see if they're interested, too. Our demographics all match.”

Jenna heard an insistent tapping on the front door. She looked up and saw several women waiting to be let in. It was only five to ten, but who was she to argue with customers?

“We'll talk about this later,” she promised. “I love all your ideas.”

“That's what you pay me for.”

When Jenna and Violet had come to terms on Violet's promotion to manager, they'd agreed on a small increase in salary along with a percentage of the profits. Apparently she was determined to make the most of the opportunity, which Jenna appreciated. Hiring Violet had been a good day.

Jenna unlocked the front door and held it open. She was immediately embraced by all the women waiting, a balancing act considering most of them were carrying covered dishes.

“We missed you.”

“Such a loss. Serenity was wonderful.”

“How you holding up, hon? Can I do anything?”

She greeted them all and returned the hugs, then pointed to the cooking area as a place to drop off their food.

But, unlike the people in Napa who had brought goodies for later, they quickly set out their food, as if they were having a party. It quickly became clear they were.

“I made Serenity's seven-layer dip,” Virginia Heaton told Jenna, then wrinkled her nose. “Although I did use real sour cream and cheese.”

Betty Vorse had brought several of the appetizers Jenna had taught early on, while Erica West carried in a Crock-Pot containing curried lentil soup.

By eleven there were over twenty women in the store, all eating and talking, telling stories about Serenity. Beth arrived with the last wave and moved toward Jenna.

“Violet called and said what was going on. I wanted to come join the fun.”

“I'm glad you did,” Jenna told her.

Beth tucked a loose strand of Jenna's hair behind her daughter's ear. “How are you holding up?”

“I'm okay. This is exactly what she would have wanted.”

Beth eyed the table. “Without the chorizo dip.”

Jenna grabbed a chip and dug in. “She might have tried it.”

The women stayed well into the afternoon. About one, Robyn popped in from Only Ewe. She had a long, slim wrapped package in her hands.

“I heard there was a party,” she said.

“A memorial for Serenity,” Jenna told her. “There's plenty of food. Every time we start to get low, someone else shows up with something delicious.”

“Serenity would say that was the universe at work,” Beth said with a laugh. “In this case, she would be right.”

Robyn handed Jenna the package. “She was making this for you. She died before it was done, so I finished it.”

Jenna set down her glass of soda and took the gift. She set it on a table and carefully opened the plain gold paper. Inside was a knitted puppet of a chef with long red hair and green eyes. The puppet had on a tiny chef's jacket with “Jenna” stenciled on the left side.

Jenna felt tears fill her eyes. She didn't bother to fight them, instead giving in to both the loss and the happiness she felt.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “It's perfect.”

“She was amazing,” Robyn said. “I barely knew her, but she touched my life. That's a special gift.”

“The best gift,” Beth added. “To love and be loved is our purpose. Serenity gave us all that treasure.”

“And tofu,” Jenna added with a half laugh, half sob.

Beth leaned against her, chuckling. “And tofu.”

Violet raised her glass. “To Serenity. May you always travel with the wings of a butterfly.”

“To Serenity.”

Jenna drank to the unexpected gift that had been her birth mother. The woman who had brought each of them joy.

 

Violet arrived home happy and exhausted. The day had been emotional but also wonderful. She was excited about the plans for the store and happy to know that Jenna wanted to go along with all of them.

For once, she entered her apartment without thinking about Cliff. Her ribs were healing, as was her spirit. She wasn't whole yet, but she knew she soon would be.

After kicking off her shoes, she headed to the small kitchen. Thanks to Jenna, she was no longer content with a frozen dinner. Instead, she pulled out fresh tomatoes and the sea scallops she'd bought the previous day. She would sauté them in butter and garlic, serving them with pasta with fresh tomato and basil sauce along with a green salad. She'd had a long conversation with the wine expert at the Georgetown Winery and with her help had picked out two chardonnays and a merlot to try.

She'd barely pulled out a bowl to start the salad when some one knocked on her door.

Her first reaction was fear. Instinctive, powerful, it nearly made her knees buckle. Then she drew in a deep breath, despite the protest from her ribs, squared her shoulders and walked to the door. Cliff was back in Illinois. Marshall had confirmed that for her. She was safe. Better than that, she was stronger than she'd been before. Eventually, she would get her fight-or-flight response to realize that.

She peeked through the security hole and was surprised to see Dragon standing in front of her door. She quickly let him in.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Shouldn't you be in San Francisco?”

He looked tired and rumpled but still gorgeous. He had a garment bag in one hand and a briefcase in the other. When he saw her glance at them, he shook his head.

“I'm not moving in. I have a hotel a few miles away, but I wanted to see you. I needed to see you.”

There was an intensity to his words, his gaze. They didn't frighten her at all, but they did leave her feeling confused.

“Why?” she asked.

He dropped his luggage onto the floor. “I miss you, Violet. I miss everything about you.”

“You barely know me.”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “Fair enough. I miss what I do know.” He drew in a breath. “I'm here for a job interview. Actually, three.”

She knew she should probably invite him to sit down or open a bottle of wine or something, but she couldn't seem to move. “I don't understand.”

“I want to move here. I may have to work in Austin rather than Georgetown. Two of the interviews are there. But I'd still be close, right?”

“I don't understand.”

The smile got bigger. “You just said that.”

“I know, but it's still true. Why would you leave your other job?”

“Because I want to be with you and long-distance relationships suck.”

She sank onto her sofa and tried to catch her breath. Dragon wanted to be with her? Was this a game?

He sat next to her. “Please don't tell me you don't understand.”

“I don't. No one moves halfway across the country for a woman he's met three times.”

“It's more than three times.” He angled toward her. “I
want to get to know you better. I want to spend time with you. The only way I know how to do that is to be in the same town.”

She heard the physical words. Individually they made sense, but when put into sentences, he might as well have been speaking Klingon.

“What if it doesn't work out?” she asked. “You will have turned your life upside down for nothing.”

“A chance I'm willing to take.”

He sounded as if he meant it. When she looked into his dark eyes, she saw sincerity and promise and a few other emotions she was scared to identify.

“This is nuts,” she said, pushing to her feet and staring at him. “Did you listen when I told you about my past? I'm not kidding, Dragon. I was a prostitute. I have no idea how many men I've been with. I did drugs.”

Despite all that, she'd escaped the life without any serious medical concerns and only a few broken bones. But the past was still there.

“You're a corporate lawyer,” she continued. “I don't know how to do that.”

“You probably don't want to get into the lawyer thing. What with not having passed the bar and all.”

“You know what I mean. I can't be with those people. They'll know.”

He stood. “They won't know unless you tell them and if they do, I don't care.”

“You say that now, but you'll change your mind. I have tattoos.”

The slow, sexy grin returned. “I know.”

She wanted to believe him, wanted to go to him and do whatever he wanted, but she couldn't.

“Don't,” she said, stepping back. “This is wrong. You're
playing a game and I'll be the one hurt. Cliff may have hurt me but you'd break my heart.”

He crossed to her in two long strides, then cupped her face in his hands.

“It's not a game, Violet. I'm moving here because I need to be with you. If my mother's death taught me anything, it's that you have to seize the moment. To go after the people you love and make them important in your life.”

He kissed her lightly. “You're everything I've been looking for. I know that sounds like a line, so I'm willing to go slow. But the second I saw you, I knew. Maybe it's destiny. All I can say for sure is I will do anything not to lose you.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. What was she supposed to say to that?

“You're not the only one at risk,” he reminded her. “I'm putting myself on the line, too. But there's nowhere else I want to be.”

The need to believe him burned hotter and brighter than any sun. She was desperate to give herself over to him but wasn't sure she had it in her to take a leap of faith.

He kissed her again, lingering this time, his mouth soft and warm.

“You have to heal,” he said. “Not only on the outside, but on the inside. I'm a patient man. Just do me one favor. Don't go falling for anyone else while that's happening.”

“Okay,” she whispered, the word coming out involuntarily.

“Yeah?”

“You'd kind of be a hard act to follow.”

He grinned. “I like hearing that.” The smile faded. “Don't freak out, Violet, but I intend to marry you. You're the one.”

The world jolted once. She stared at him, unable to speak.

Don't say it if you don't mean it.

She wasn't sure if she thought the words or said them out loud. Either way, he heard them.

“I mean it,” he told her.

“I've never been the one before.”

“You'd better get used to it. We Johnson men tend to bond for life.”

He dropped his arms to her shoulders and drew her close. She stepped closer, willing to give him the chance he'd asked for, to maybe trust just a little.

“What if this takes longer than you think?” she asked suddenly.

“I'll be right here. I promise. I don't scare easily, nor do I give up.”

“I won't give up, either,” she promised, knowing it was as much as she had to pledge right now. But the promise of more filled her with a happiness she hadn't experienced in a long time. Maybe ever.

 

“What if he hates me?” Jenna asked nervously as she hovered in the living room of her parents' house.

“Why would he hate you?” Beth asked patiently.

“I'm dating his father. He might resent me.”

“Just be yourself. Children respect that.”

Probably good advice, Jenna thought, wishing her stomach would stop spinning and flipping. Advice she would take just as soon as the need to throw up went away.

It was a warm, sunny Sunday afternoon. Beth and Marshall were hosting a barbecue. Dragon and Violet were already in the back, as were other friends. Ellington and his son were due to arrive any second.

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