Chapter 19
Ben’s words chased Jordan all the way back to Highbury, then through his shower, then his dreams. He barely slept as conversations tumbled over one another, until he wasn’t even really sure just what had been said anymore.
EJ. Eric. Gwen. Ben. So many people, so many questions, so many doubts, so many fears.
He’d been glad for the solo car trip back to the farm, glad for the chance to pray out loud and not have to explain himself.
Glad also that he didn’t have to hide a couple of stupid tears that had dared leak.
He didn’t want people asking questions, and he was thankful that he had arrived home late enough that Mum and Dad were in bed and couldn’t hassle him.
He still had lots of wrestling to do, with his thoughts, his actions, and with God.
Real friends held each other accountable. And he couldn’t keep propping up EJ’s fragile ego. She needed to get back to God, not chasing money or being seen on the arm of a shady billionaire’s son. And the only one who could truly help was God. God needed to help her. And help him.
Because Jordan knew now that spending time with EJ was not healthy for him. It only fed his own envy and insecurities and these unwanted feelings that soared a little close to unrequited love.
He gritted his teeth. There. He’d said it. Or at least thought it. He loved her. And okay, maybe some of his truth-telling yesterday at Bondi had stemmed from jealousy, but it didn’t mean the other still wasn’t true.
And while part of him was glad he had said what he had, another part wished that there had been a different way to help her hear the truth.
He rolled over to his side, propped the pillow a little higher, watched the midnight shadows creep across the wall. In the distance, he heard the click, click of Bella’s toenails on the floor, and he wondered where she was going. She took her guard dog job a little too seriously sometimes.
Maybe a little like he had.
“Lord, if I went in too strong, please forgive me. And help her to forgive me.” Friends held each other accountable, but they didn’t hurt or abuse.
The book of Proverbs reminded that open rebuke was better than love carefully concealed, and that faithful were the wounds of a friend, but the kisses of an enemy were deceitful.
“Lord if there’s some way You can bring the truth out, then please do so.”
Peace nudged his soul.
“Jesus, comfort her, comfort me.”
He closed his eyes. And finally slept.
“What time did you get in?” Mum asked when he made a tousle-haired appearance the next morning and kissed her cheek.
“Just past eleven. I’m surprised you didn’t hear Bella going off with all her barking.” He slipped in two pieces of bread into the toaster, then readied the Vegemite. Butter and a smear of Vegemite on hot toast: perfection.
“How did things go at EJ’s party?”
He looked at her.
“That good, huh?”
“Next question.”
“Right. Uh, care to join us for lunch today? We’re celebrating John Bennett’s birthday.”
“I forgot his birthday was so close to EJ’s.”
His mum raised her eyebrows, but Jordan wasn’t going to bite. “I don’t want to talk about her, Mum.”
“My sweet boy.”
Moisture laced the back of his eyes, and he shook his head. “Please don’t. This is hard enough as it is.”
“Come here.”
He let himself be hugged by her for a long time. Good thing neither Dad nor his brother were here to see. They’d call him a wuss for sure. Well, Dad wouldn’t, but John sure would.
“I’m praying for you, and for her,” Mum murmured.
“We both need it.”
“Mm. We all do, I’m sure. But come on. Let’s get ready for church.”
The drive into Wattle Vale didn’t take long, the Sunday drivers not yet out in full force.
No doubt plenty of the local coffee shops would be doing a roaring trade, but as they didn’t pass any on their way into church, it didn’t affect them at all.
He parked and they went in, and he was greeted by various family friends, most of them asking about EJ.
He offered a bland smile but simply said, “She’s been pretty busy,” which seemed enough to satisfy most people. Except for Miss Bates, one of the gossipy older ladies who EJ had referred to yesterday, who kept pecking him with questions he couldn’t answer.
“Sorry, gotta go.” He escaped and hurried to Elinor, who was working on the projector. Or at least hiding behind the projector’s computer while she frowned at her phone.
“Hard at work, I see.”
She jumped, then swatted him. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Sydney this weekend.”
“I got back late last night.” He punctuated his comment with a yawn.
“Okay, I’m convinced.” She chewed her lip, studying him.
Uh oh. What was wrong? “Call me sleep-deprived, but you look like there’s something you want to say.”
Her nose wrinkled as she grimaced. “I’m trying to understand this picture I found.”
“What picture?”
She shoved her phone at him, and he took a second to realise who was in it. Eric. And—was that Gwen? Hugging? And in a way that suggested much more than just a friendly hug.
He blinked. Glanced back at Elinor.
She nodded. “Exactly. I mean, that is Eric, right?”
“Looks like it.”
“And that’s definitely not our EJ, is it?”
Our EJ? “No.”
He couldn’t imagine EJ consenting to a man hugging her with his hand cradling her, uh, posterior like that.
“I don’t understand.”
Neither did he. But there was no time for further speculation as the church service’s countdown was on the screen, and he needed to take his spot beside Mum in the third row.
“We’ll talk after.”
“Too right we will.”
His heart felt like a popcorn machine, little kernels of truth exploding into fullness, and he struggled to sing, let alone keep his focus on the sermon.
But a few verses and phrases sank in.
Like the name of the Lord is a strong tower, the righteous run into it, and they are safe.
He bowed his head in prayer, glad that today wasn’t one of Pastor Bryan’s longer efforts.
And while he was grateful for the postservice coffee, he couldn’t linger and do small talk, not with so many questions looming over him.
So as soon as it was feasible, he escaped and caught up with Elinor, who’d been joined by Katie.
Katie clearly knew too, her brow pleated with worry as she joined Elinor in dragging Jordan to the side, away from prying ears.
“Jordan, do you think EJ knows about this?” She showed him her phone again, complete with incriminating photo.
“No, not yet. Where did you find it?”
“It’s a new gossip site on TikTok. It doesn’t have many followers yet, but I’m guessing it will soon. Judging from the content, they are very anti–Eric Churchill.”
“If it’s on the internet, it’s only a matter of time before she does know.” He peered at it more closely. “That hair makes it look like her friend Gwen.”
“Her nonfriend,” Elinor muttered, frowning. “How long do you think this has been going on?”
“I’ve no idea.” Poor EJ.
Katie twirled a lock of blonde hair. “But why would Eric go to so much trouble for EJ if this is true?”
Why indeed. “It’s crazy. Maybe his family has something against Gwen. Whatever the reason, it certainly suggests he really is the womaniser people have always said.” Even if EJ had wanted to believe differently.
“But what about EJ? What are we going to do?”
“She needs to know,” Katie insisted.
“There might still be an innocent explanation,” Elinor warned.
“I can’t think of too many innocent explanations for why a man would have his hands on another woman’s butt,” Jordan said dryly.
Katie giggled. “I know it’s awful, but you sounded just like EJ just then.”
Elinor poked her. “Don’t go getting hysterical. We don’t have time for that.” She looked at Jordan. “You’re going to have to speak to her.”
He shook his head. “She’s not a fan of me at the moment.”
“Come on. She’ll be crushed if she finds out a different way.”
“Why don’t you tell her, then?”
She hesitated.
“Yeah, not so easy, is it?”
“I think we should talk to Liv and ask her advice.”
Maybe that would be best. “What time is it in England?”
Elinor glanced at her watch, her face dropping. “She’d be asleep right now, but we could try this afternoon. She’ll be awake then.”
“Listen, I feel like I’ve stuck my nose in this enough already. You know that offering unasked-for advice sounds like criticism, and I think EJ feels she’s heard too much of that from me. So I’d really much prefer you sisters to do an intervention.”
“Fine. So, will you come and join us for Dad’s birthday? We’re going to the RSL for lunch.”
The nearby restaurant of the Returned Serviceman’s League had good steaks, so that was a yes.
The RSL was always packed by people wanting the Sunday roast specials.
He ate, drank, small-talked, answered Mrs. Bennett’s questions about EJ, all the while wondering what EJ was doing.
Why hadn’t she contacted her dad for his birthday?
Did she know yet about Eric? How would she cope?
Had she opened his present? Would she remember what it meant?
It was a long shot, but he hoped she did.
Finally, the hour hand crawled to the top and, knowing both sets of parents would be happy to chat for hours, he joined the others in making his farewell, then drove Elinor and Katie back to their place.
He joined them in the back room, which overlooked the yard with its patch of green lawn, sticklike fruit trees, and iron trellis of pumpkins.
The fruit trees bent and swayed in the wind.
For as long as he could remember Mr. Bennett had always offered produce from their garden, insisting they take home autumn apples, winter rhubarb, late spring cherries, summer peaches, and the like.
Of course, Mum and Dad’s small orchard meant they usually had something to swap in a fair trade, and their strawberries were legendary, and he’d come to appreciate the kindly gestures.