Chapter Eleven
O n his lunch hour, Wes decided to eat his brown-bag lunch while he walked three blocks downtown to find a birthday present for his sister, who lived in a little town in Idaho called Pine Gulch, on the west slope of the Tetons.
He had a single destination in mind, the gift shop owned by his landlady, Rosa. It was the logical choice, he told himself. By-the-Wind carried unique local products that represented the best artists and craftspeople in the area. His sister would love something handmade, especially something he had specifically picked for her.
As he walked toward the store, he reminded himself there was little chance he would bump into Jenna, though he knew she worked part-time at By-the-Wind during the summer.
Logic did nothing to stop the little buzz of anticipation as he made his way through town.
The sidewalks were busy, but it wasn’t the kind of crowd he had been warned to expect in summer. Mostly families were browsing for beach toys or T-shirts or fudge.
He still could not believe he lived in this busy little beach community on the Oregon Coast, that he was working as a mechanic, of all things, and enjoying all of it.
Life had a funny way of taking a guy on adventures he never could have imagined.
Four years ago, he thought he had his life completely figured out. He had loved the hard work of making the security company a success. While his marriage definitely had its ups and downs, he was trying hard to make that a success as well.
He thought he would continue on that same path and eventually attain everything he wanted.
His life hadn’t gone exactly as planned. Three years behind bars had a way of derailing an entire future.
Wes had always been a planner, goal oriented and ambitious. Now he tried to focus on the moment. The smell of ice-cream cones from the parlor he passed, the sound of children laughing as they watched someone making saltwater taffy at another shop, the hum of conversation between shoppers. All of it was underlined by the constant song of the sea, which gave him more comfort than he ever could have guessed.
When he finally reached By-the-Wind, he pushed open the door and immediately felt out of place.
Wes didn’t consider himself sexist but this didn’t really feel like the kind of store that catered to a guy like him. It was filled with scented candles, wind chimes, floral-patterned shopping bags and rows of handcrafted jewelry.
He was the only man in the store, he couldn’t help but notice. A trio of older ladies were looking at carved lighthouse figures while a couple of teenagers spun a rotating rack of silver earrings.
What would his sister like here?
He had no idea. While he and Maggie had always been close as children, separated by only a few years, as adults, their paths had diverged. After his arrest and especially after his conviction, Wes had tried to build in more distance between them. Maggie’s husband was a small-town lawyer with state political ambitions. He didn’t need to be associated with someone who had been convicted on multiple felony charges.
Maggie had tried to stay in touch but he had discouraged contact. She hadn’t given up, no matter how tough he made it on her.
He was scouring through some decorative ceramic vases when he saw Jenna emerge from a back room. She did an almost comical double take when she spotted him. He again felt large and ungainly in this store filled with delicate items.
“Hi.” She smiled. “This is a surprise.”
“For me, too. I wasn’t expecting to see you. I figured even if you were scheduled to work, you would have taken time off because of your injury.”
She held up her heavily bandaged hand. “Good news. They didn’t have to amputate. I only needed a few stitches. Five, but who is counting?”
“Whew.” He managed a smile. “Does it still hurt?”
“The local anesthetic they used to put in the stitches has worn off so it’s throbbing a bit, but it’s not too bad.”
“Good. That’s good.”
Silence descended between them and he didn’t want to do anything but stare at her. That wasn’t creepy or anything, right?
Around Jenna, he experienced a strange paradox of emotions, both fierce awareness as well as an odd sort of peace.
“Was there something I could help you find?” she asked after a moment.
“Um. Yes. I’m looking for a birthday present for my sister.”
“You have a sister?”
She seemed genuinely surprised, and he realized he hadn’t mentioned his family much to her, other than to tell her about his father’s death.
“Yes. Maggie is three years younger than I am. An artist and writer. She lives in Idaho with her husband and their two kids.”
“Wow. Okay. Um, what are her tastes? Does she collect anything? You said she is an artist?”
“Yes. She paints. But I know she also collects pottery. I was looking at your vases here.”
“They are very nice. Do you know what kind of pottery she collects?”
He felt stupid for his ignorance. Again, he wished he had not come, that he had simply picked out something for Maggie online.
Had his subconscious led him here, in the random hope that he might find himself in this very situation, speaking with the woman who fascinated him so much? He did not want to admit it, but the truth was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
Jenna Haynes was becoming a vital part of his life. He didn’t want to think about how bereft he would feel when his daughter returned to her mother and stepfather’s home and he had no more excuse to see Jenna at least twice a day.
He turned his attention back to the problem at hand, finding a gift for his sister. “To be honest, I am not at all sure what to get her. I don’t know what she likes. Maggie and I haven’t talked much for the past few years. Only a couple of times since I was arrested, actually.”
“Why? Did she believe you were guilty?” she asked with a frown. He could almost see her mind working, possibly condemning his sister. He couldn’t have that.
“I tried to keep Maggie and her family away from all the ugliness,” he said quickly. “She had enough on her plate, with new twins and her husband opening his law practice. She didn’t need to be dragged down by worry.”
“You don’t think she worried about you, whether you were in regular communication or not?”
“Probably,” he admitted. In truth, he hadn’t wanted the baby sister he adored to see what a mess his life had become.
“We’ve texted and emailed back and forth a few times since I was released. I was going to swing by and visit on my way to Oregon but it didn’t quite work out.”
She studied him and he had a feeling she saw right through his excuses and explanations.
“A birthday gift is a lovely way to reconnect,” she finally said, her tone gentle. “Though perhaps the best thing you could give Maggie for her birthday would be a video call from her brother and niece so she can catch up on your life.”
That was not a bad idea. Because his contact with the outside world had been limited while he had been incarcerated, he had lost the habit of remembering he could pick up the phone at any time now.
“Maybe I can do both. Send her a gift and also catch up over the phone.”
She smiled. “That works. I can’t help you with the phone call, but let’s try to find something wonderful to send her. We have one section of pottery created by local artists. Would you like to take a look?”
“Definitely. I would love to give her something that represents the Oregon Coast.”
He looked at the offerings on the shelves she indicated and was immediately drawn to a small, delicate bowl the same iridescent colors found on the inside of an abalone shell. It was even shaped a little like a shell.
“That is beautiful,” he said, holding it up to admire the colors.
Her gaze softened. “That is by one of my favorite local artists. She is eighty years old, a real character who lives alone on an isolated stretch near Heceta Head and throws pots every day. You should meet her on one of her visits to town.”
“I would like that,” he said. He had never been one for art galleries or museums when he was younger but his time in prison had given him a true appreciation for those who could create beauty no matter their situation.
“This one works for me. That was easy. I might even make it back before my lunch hour is over.”
“I can wrap it up for you. If you would like to pick out a birthday card while you’re here and write a message, we can even ship for you. We have some nice original birthday cards as well as some all-occasion.”
While it would certainly take a weight off him not to have to deal with the inconvenience of mailing, he suddenly caught sight of that glaring white bandage on her hand.
“I don’t think you should be wrapping up anything right now, with your bum hand. Just slip it in a bag and I can take it home. Brie can help me deal with it tonight.”
She made a face. “I appreciate your concern, Wes, but I’m really fine. I’ve already packaged things for other shoppers today and didn’t drop a single thing. If I have trouble, someone else here can handle that part of it.”
She was a difficult woman to win an argument against.
“Thank you, I guess. Though I don’t feel good about it.”
She laughed. “Sorry about that.”
He wanted to gaze at her for whatever time was left of his lunch hour but forced himself to head to the cards, where he finally found a lovely hand-painted card he knew Maggie would appreciate as much as the bowl.
Jenna handed him a pen from behind the counter and after a moment’s reflection, he wrote a quick message wishing her the happiest of birthdays and expressing his love. It seemed inadequate but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
When he finished the card and slipped it into the envelope, he handed over his credit card and Jenna ran it through.
It sometimes struck him how amazing it was to be able to walk into a store and purchase whatever he wanted. For three years, he had been limited by the prison commissary and what friends on the outside could provide him.
All of his pre-arrest personal assets had been restored to him following the acquittal, along with a healthy settlement for wrongful prosecution. He had plenty of money right now. He couldn’t work forever fixing motorcycles. He knew that, but he wasn’t in any hurry to change the status quo.
After years of the grind to build his company, then the stress and helplessness of the past three years, Wes found he enjoyed the work he was doing.
He liked taking something broken and repairing it to be as good as new...and sometimes better.
Maybe he would open his own shop somewhere, though probably not. He didn’t feel right about going into competition with Paco and Carlos, after they had been so good to him.
“Thank you,” Jenna said, handing him the receipt. “I’ll try to get this wrapped up and shipped today. It should go out tomorrow at the latest. That’s our guarantee. She should receive it within a week. Will that work?”
“It should. Her birthday isn’t for a few more weeks. Thank you for your help.”
“My pleasure.”
He needed to return to work but he was loath to leave her.
“Why don’t you let me take care of dinner for us and the girls tonight?” he said on impulse, gesturing to her hand. “It’s the least I can do, after all you’ve done to help me out with Brie this week.”
“It has really been no trouble,” she protested.
“You keep saying that, but surely it’s been a little trouble. You’ve got a sore hand and don’t need to be rushing around tonight trying to fix dinner.”
She gave a quick laugh that sounded prettier than any of the wind chimes in this charming little store ever could.
“You seem to have this idea that my hand has been grievously wounded. It’s only a few stitches. I am really fine.”
“Okay, let’s take the hand completely out of it. For two weeks, you have stepped up to bail me out with my daughter. I would love the chance to repay you in some small way. Why don’t we celebrate the last day of the girls’ camp and my last day with Brielle full-time? We could explore one of the nearby state parks, if you have a favorite.”
“Have you visited Oswald West State Park? It’s just south of town. It has lots of tide pools and trails through the forest that look like something out of Lord of the Rings . Addie loves it. It also has a picnic area close to the beach.”
“I have not been there. That sounds perfect. The girls can show us everything they learned at camp and, bonus, Theo can get some exercise.”
“That is actually not a bad idea,” she said after a moment’s thought. “It sounds really fun.”
He felt a ridiculous sense of accomplishment. “Great. I’m done working today at four. I can pick up some picnic supplies. We can take my truck and load the back with whatever we might need.”
“That sounds great. I’m off by three, in time to get the girls.”
“Let’s plan to leave about five. That will give us several hours before dark to enjoy the scenery.”
“Perfect. We’ll be ready.”
He wanted to stay and talk to her more, but he had already taken too long and needed to return to the bike he was working on.
Besides that, the store had begun to fill with more customers, and he realized he had been completely monopolizing Jenna’s time for the past fifteen minutes.
“Thanks again for your help. I’ll see you this evening,” he said.
“Great.”
That buzz of anticipation carried him toward the door. Before he reached it, he spotted a few women with familiar features whom he knew he had seen around town before. He nodded to them but didn’t miss the way the mouth of one of the women tightened. If she had been wearing long skirts, he had a feeling she would have brushed them out of his way with a dramatic sweep.
He wouldn’t let it ruin his mood, he decided. Not when he had a fun evening ahead with Jenna and their respective daughters.