Plain Jayne (46 page)

“He is.” More cardiovascular palpitations at the thought. “The position starts next week. In the meantime, he'll be here this afternoon.”

Watching Sara's smile, I felt myself grow glad on the inside.

By the time we returned home from church, the sun was out. We opened all the blinds and pulled back all the curtains, filling the apartment with warm, sunshiny light. After making a lunch of deli sandwiches full of tomatoes and avocados, Sara settled on the couch with a book.

Sunny day, and my wrist felt fine—I decided I was ready for a motorcycle ride.

That was the downside of the roommate thing. I had to work a little harder to have a moment to myself, as opposed to living in total seclusion all the time.

I supposed it was probably healthy for me.

I suited up and headed out. My bike took a moment to start; it hadn't been used in so long. But once I got it started, riding it felt incredible. The
wind rushed through the vents in my jacket. The sun warmed the exposed spot on the back of my gloved hand.

Levi was coming. He was coming because I'd asked him to. I thought back to how we'd met, at the woodshop. The way he'd taken me to the emergency room when I hurt my wrist. How we towed the buggy back to the farm together. Our date at Pastini. The weekend at the coast when everything fell apart.

I lived a lot of my life expecting people to let me down, expect the worst of me, and shut me out. Had I expected that of Levi?

The root of our breakup was that I couldn't tell him I loved him. Sure, we hadn't known each other long. I'd needed time. Well, time had passed. Did I feel differently?

Or did the time not matter? Had I loved him all along but been afraid to admit it to myself?

I never wanted to live a life of fear, but I realized that I had done that anyway despite my best efforts. I had hesitated pursuing a relationship with my mom and sister because I was afraid they would hate me. Because of my fear, I'd missed out on so much. I didn't want to miss out on Levi, not if he loved me back.

I'd hurt him. I knew I had. Should I apologize? Beg his forgiveness? Not say anything and just add it to my feminine mystique? I felt confused. When I returned home, I found my phone and dialed my mom's number.

She picked up, sounding groggy. “Did I wake you?”

“It's Sunday,” she answered, by way of explanation. “Is everything all right?”

I explained my situation.

“Well, dear, you fix it the way women have been fixing their man problems for hundreds of years.”

“How's that?” I asked, ready to be horrified if somehow my mom had reversed her position in the milk/cow arena. If she had, I was back to square one.

“Easy, dear. You make him a pie.”

P
ie. Pie. Pie. What did I have to make a pie with? “Sara, I need you!” Sara got up from the couch and joined me in the kitchen. “What are you doing? What's wrong?”

“I need to make Levi a pie.”

“Okay…what kind of pie?”

“Any kind of pie. We don't have time to go shopping.”

“Oh.” She joined me in fervent cupboard-checking. Then she moved on to the freezer, digging past boxes of frozen ravioli and grilled chicken strips. “What about these?”

“I'd forgotten about those.” In her hand she held a bag of frozen peaches. “I was going through a smoothie phase for a while.”

“Smoothie?”

“Blended fruit. Then I broke the blender. Sticking a fork in to loosen the fruit was a bad idea. I moved on to less dangerous cuisine.” I winced as I heard myself babble. Was I always like this under stress?

“You've got peaches, apricots, and…” she held the last bag close for examination. “Organic Oregon marionberries.”

“Think there's enough for a pie?”

Sara shrugged. “Sure. Do you have shortening for the crust?”

“Levi bought it when you and your mom stayed here.”

An expression of longing passed over Sara's features. I knew she missed her mom. I knew she wouldn't talk about it.

At her suggestion, we placed the fruit in a colander and ran it under warm water, just long enough for the fruit to lose most of its ice. I mixed and rolled out the piecrust, enjoying working gently with my hands without the brace, while Sara mixed the fruit with flour, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and a little lemon juice.

Like an experienced team, we put the thing together—I put the bottom of the pie into the pie pan, Sara dumped the fruit inside, I put the top on, trimmed off the excess, and crimped the edges all nice and pretty. As a last thought, I carved LEVI into the top. We were congratulating him on the job, after all. Nothing says job congratulations like a pie.

Sara insisted we not put the pie in the oven until it was fully preheated. So I stood, staring at the oven until the heating light blinked off. We placed strips of tinfoil around the edge before putting it in the oven.

“How long?” I asked, my fingers hovering over the timer function on the microwave.

“Forty minutes, remove the foil, and then another ten should do it.”

I set the timer for forty minutes.

And waited.

By the time Levi knocked on the door, the apartment smelled almost as good as Martha's kitchen.

I opened the door. “Hi,” I said, aware my voice sounded flight attendant perky. “Glad you could come up.”

He smiled. “Me too.”

I couldn't read the expression on his face. He seemed happy, but…guarded? Was that it? Hard to say.

Sara gave him a hug. He ruffled her hair; she made a face. He looked around. “Smells good in here.”

I gave a careful smile. “We made pie.”

“What kind?”

“Peach, apricot, and marionberry.” Sara tugged on his sleeve. “Take off your coat.”

He began to shrug out of his jacket. “I don't think I've had that before.”

“It's Jayne's specialty.” Sara took the jacket and hung it up in the closet.

I began to panic. What was I thinking, that he would walk into the apartment and I'd suddenly know what to say? In front of Sara? It was one thing to try to make amends with the man who could very well be the love of your life, but another thing entirely to do it with his sister in the room.

Awkward.

I jumped when the microwave timer went off. The pie was really done this time—we'd removed the foil ten minutes ago. I walked to the kitchen and started to pick up every hot pad I could find.

“Sure you don't want me to do that for you?” Levi asked. I turned in time to see the glimmer in his eye. I knew he was remembering the time I'd set the hot pad on fire at the farmhouse.

I handed him my stash. “Be my guest.”

He kept two and discarded the others. He beamed when he saw his name. “I don't think anyone's made me a pie with my name on it before.”

I pulled out plates and forks. Sara frowned. “Doesn't it need to cool for a while?”

“I like my pie a bit runny,” Levi said. “Makes the fruit stand out.”

He waited while I carved it into wedges; I handed him the first slice.

“What, no ice cream?” he teased.

“It's not a perfect world.”

He didn't need to know that we'd essentially cleaned out my freezer with this pie.

We took our dessert to the living room and sat down while it cooled on the plates.

Sara ate hers with surprising speed before lifting a hand to her forehead. “Oh.”

I frowned. “What's wrong?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “I…I just got a headache all of a sudden.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's like a throbbing behind my forehead. It's really bad.”

Levi looked to me. “Jayne, do you have any painkillers?”

Sara held up a hand. “No, I don't want to take anything. I think I should just lie down.”

With that, she got up, went into her bedroom, and closed the door.

Levi leaned back. “And then there were two. She's always been a terrible liar.”

“What? How can you tell?”

“Her ears move when she lies. Always have.” He looked out the front window. “It's a gorgeous day outside. Want to go for a walk?”

My hand itched to hold his. I dug it farther into my jacket pocket.

“The position is a good one,” Levi said, as we walked under newly leafing trees. “I'll be doing what I love. Pay's all right. Certainly enough to where I can help pay for some of Sara's living expenses while she's starting out.”

“I wouldn't tell her that just yet. I think she's liking independence.”

“You think she's doing okay?”

“I do.” I recounted to him the spiritual conversation Sara and I had had the other night.

Levi nodded. “I felt the way she did when I left. I'm glad she had you to talk to.”

“Me?” I scoffed. “I'm the last person she should be talking to about spiritual matters.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I've only recently gotten my life back on track. I spent too much time giving God the cold shoulder, pretending that if I didn't believe He existed, He might leave me alone.”

“Did He?”

I snorted. “No.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Maybe this was my moment. I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Levi, I—”

He held up his hand. “Jayne, before you say anything, there's something I need to tell you.”

“Okay.”

“That night I left? I'm sorry. I handled things badly. I shouldn't have left like that.”

“You had every reason to.”

“No, I didn't.”

“I hurt you. You told me you loved me and I…I was afraid. And here I was thinking I was going to stop living out of fear. Look,” I said, trying to piece together a coherent thought. “I know I made a mess of things. Badly. Could you…forgive me?”

“Of course.” His answer was immediate. He pointed to the right. “Let's go this way,” he said, indicating a quiet alleyway.

Fine with me. I hated feeling as though I were having this conversation with an audience.

“What I'm trying to ask,” I said, starting again, “is if you'd be willing to start over. With me.”

“Start over?”

“Yes.”

“All the way? Meet each other all over again?”

“Start over from where I screwed things up.”

He stopped and turned to face me. “I want to, but I need to know you're not going to freak out on me again like that.”

I shook my head. “I can't promise I'm not going to get scared again.”

“Will you at least talk about it with me when you do?”

“Just don't leave.”

“I won't.” He cupped my face.

Not caring that we were standing in a Portland alleyway, Levi pulled me close and kissed me. Kissed me like a man who had lost his love and found her again.

He pulled me closer when the kiss ended, as if he were afraid I'd slip away.

“I missed you,” I whispered.

“I missed
you
.”

“You've driven me crazy for the longest time,” I said with a sigh.