25.
Jonathan
While Ada was in the bathroom, I berated myself for my behaviour over the past days. It was unforgivable to give her even a single impression that I didn’t want to be with her, but I’d just had too much emotional baggage to work through, and I refused to put any of that baggage on her.
I’d been having trouble speaking of Mam during grief counselling, but Brianna had suggested immersion therapy, where I placed myself safely within a space surrounded by reminders of her until I was fully relaxed and no longer tensed up at the tiniest memory of my mother. I’d resisted the idea at first, but then after getting back from Cork, I found myself drawn to Mam’s house almost unconsciously. I didn’t even realise I was immersing myself until I was going to all the places she used to go, shopping in the same shops.
Then it dawned on me that I was doing exactly as Brianna had suggested. And it was working. Today’s big step involved cooking Mam’s spaghetti recipe from scratch, and unlike the last time when Ada had cooked it and grief had overwhelmed me, today felt different. Perhaps it was the act of going out and buying the ingredients myself that caused the change. It felt meditative and purposeful rather than unexpected and stressful.
I started preparing the sauce when Ada returned, and she looked oddly pale. Discombobulated almost. She held her phone in her hand, and her expression was apologetic.
“Um, I’m sorry, but I have to go. They need me at work.”
My heart sank. I didn’t want her to go. Not yet. Maybe never. “Will you come back later?”
Her expression clouded. She was clearly stressed, and I suspected I knew why. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be done,” she said then peered at me as though studying my expression. “Pinebrook is being sold,” she continued, confirming my suspicion, and I tried to pretend to be surprised even though I’d known about the sale for over a week.
As soon as Ada had mentioned to me that the company operating her care home was considering selling, I’d been monitoring the situation. At first, I wasn’t entirely sure why I was doing it, but then when I saw it was listed for sale, the idea to buy the place took root. I’d been making an obscene amount of money for a very long time, but I’d never really given back to the community. Charity wasn’t exactly on my radar. Sure, I attended the odd gala and donated here and there, but nothing substantial. I’d been too focused on securing my own success, creating the kind of stability that didn’t exist for me when I was younger. But now I saw how I could do something good for a lot of people, and that was through purchasing Pinebrook Lodge and operating the place in a philanthropic manner. For years, Ada’s care home was put under strain to turn a profit, but this way, if it simply broke even, everyone could keep their jobs and the residents their homes.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said softly, and her gaze narrowed the tiniest bit.
“It’s just a lot of upheaval. I’ve been rushed off my feet.”
Seeing how stressed she was, I wished to tell her that everything would be all right in the end, that Pinebrook would continue to operate as it was once it was under my ownership. I wanted to spare her the worry she was clearly going through, but I couldn’t tell her yet, not until everything was finalised. I’d been through enough business deals in the past to know that things could happen along the way to prevent sales or other arrangements from going through.
And that was why I simply replied, “I understand. Let me know if you can come back tonight. Don’t worry if it’s late. I’ll wait for up for you.”
She nodded, and I kissed her softly before walking her to the door. Standing there, I watched as she climbed back into her car and drove away. Something niggled at me, an odd sense that something was off. That same niggle persisted all through cooking dinner and sitting down to eat it. Much later, I returned to my room—well, technically Ada’s old room—where I’d been sleeping for the last few days. You could still sense her presence, and it helped me rest better. I’d left the door open, so Ada might’ve noticed I was sleeping in there when she’d gone to use the bathroom. I sat down at the desk I’d been working from and saw I’d left some paperwork from the sale of Pinebrook on top of a stack of files I’d been working through.
Fuck. Had she seen it?
If she had, this was a mess. And the more I thought about it, the more I believed she had. The way she’d assessed my reaction when she’d told me Pinebrook was being sold. She’d clearly been searching for a reaction, for me to reveal I was considering purchasing it.
I shouldn’t have kept it a secret, but not only did I not want to say anything in case there were hiccups preventing the purchase, I also feared she might try to talk me out of it, that she’d feel uncomfortable with me essentially becoming her new boss. But I had no intention of running the place myself. If anything, I’d be completely detached from the day-to-day operations and would hire someone to manage all that.
Upon further reflection, perhaps it was better to tell her now, whether the sale went through or not. She might feel blindsided if I didn’t at least give her a say in the whole thing.
The following morning, I drove out to Pinebrook, which wasn’t too far from my mother’s house. Ben had been delighted when I’d told him he could take two weeks off with pay while I stayed in Mam’s and worked from home while experimenting with the immersion therapy.
When I arrived at the care home, it looked like the residents were being loaded onto a hired coach, and I remembered the day trip Ada planned for them.
“Oh, hello Jonathan,” the young blonde woman greeted, the same one who was now seeing Ada’s ex-boyfriend. It took me a moment to recall her name.
“Hannah, hi.”
“Have you come to fill in for Lewis? Ada’s been on the phone all morning trying to find someone because, otherwise, we can’t go on the trip. We need at least four people to make it workable. Wow, this is so nice of you to volunteer.” She spoke rapidly, and I found myself nodding along just before Ada appeared, hands on her hips as she blew out a stressed sigh and announced, “I can’t find any …” She blinked, falling silent when she spotted me. “Jonathan?”
“I’m here to save the day,” I said with a smile, and she blinked some more.
“Isn’t it so generous of him,” Hannah chirped. “Lewis has been texting me to say how guilty he feels about being out sick so he’ll be relieved to know you found someone to cover for him.”
Ada glanced at her, looking a little confused. My appearance had obviously thrown her for a loop, but if they were short a pair of hands, I was happy to stand in. “I don’t know much about caring for the elderly, but I do take instruction well.”
Ada pressed her lips together, looking torn as her gaze went to the bus, where another woman was helping the residents board.
“Well, okay, if you’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said emphatically. I wanted her to know that I’d do anything for her. No matter what sort of tight spot she found herself in, I would always be there.
I was still focused on Ada when I felt some movement behind me. Turning, I found a tiny woman with a tuft of grey hair who was trying to snatch my wallet right out of my back pocket. Amusement claimed my features as I peered down at her, “Can I help you?”
The woman removed her hand from my pocket and acted like she hadn’t just been trying to rob me.
“Bernie!” Ada exclaimed. “We’ve talked about this. You’re not to be pick pocketing.”
“I wasn’t,” the woman argued. “I was about to pinch his bum, if you must know!”
I chuckled while Ada groaned then ran a hand down her face. “Lord have mercy.”
“Well, that’s not allowed either,” Hannah reprimanded the woman as she slid her arm through Bernie’s and escorted her towards the bus. “We call that sexual harassment nowadays.” She shot me an apologetic look before glancing at Ada. “I’ll get her boarded.”
“So, she’s the one who was dipping her hand into your petty cash?” I asked with a smirk, and Ada stared at the ground for a moment, shaking her head.
“She’s bloody impossible. We have to watch her like hawks to make sure she doesn’t take things from the other residents. The only saving grace is that she doesn’t really leave Pinebrook, so normally, whatever she takes, we find hidden in her room.”
“Well, I’m glad she didn’t manage to get my wallet. Wouldn’t want her going on a wild spending spree.”
“She does have access to the internet, so who knows what she’d try purchasing. We dodged a bullet.”
“For sure.” I smiled in amusement then paused to take her in. “How are you? You never came back last night.”
“I, um—” Before she could finish, the bus driver honked his horn to let us know everyone had boarded and they were ready to leave.
“We should get on the bus,” Ada said then glanced at me. “You’re sure you have time for this? We’ll be gone most of the day.”
“I have time,” I replied, meeting her gaze steadily.
She turned, and I followed her to the bus, hoping we could talk on the journey, but when we boarded, there were only two seats left, one at the front and the other farther back. Ada took the seat at the front, which left me to sit at the back next to an old man wearing a dark grey coat.
“Hello, mind if I sit?” I asked, and he grumbled something incoherent under his breath, which I took as an affirmative but could just as easily not have been.
The journey was just under an hour, and when we arrived, I felt oddly like I could breathe more easily. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken a day off and immersed myself in nature. Powerscourt was a beautiful spot. It boasted expansive gardens, which appeared to be the first port of call as Ada, Hannah and another carer whose name I didn’t know ushered the care home residents into the gardens for a walk. Well, that was after everyone was given the opportunity to use the bathroom, which took the guts of forty minutes.
Ada was busy helping the residents, so I left her to it, not wanting to get in the way, even though I was desperate to speak with her. I also felt a little useless since I was supposed to be filling in for Lewis, but no one bothered asking me to do anything. In the end, I joined a group of three elderly men and walked with them while they discussed what type of sandwiches they might be having for lunch.
Donny was hoping for pickle and cheese while Ted had his fingers crossed for egg salad.
“Please no,” the third man, Paddy, cut in. “I can’t stand the smell of egg.”
A little while later, I managed to catch up with Ada as we made our way over to the other side of the estate to see the waterfall. It gushed in the distance, a striking beauty cutting down the rocky cliffside framed by native greenery.
“I was hoping you’d come back last night. I waited up for you,” I said as I gently slid my palm along her elbow.
She seemed to tense. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I should’ve called to let you know I wouldn’t make it.”
“Ada,” I said her name low, my fingers traversing her elbow and arm before catching her hand in mine. “I know you saw the papers.”
She sucked in a breath, her expression startled, confirming my suspicion. “I should’ve told you about my plans to purchase Pinebrook,” I went on. “It was wrong of me to keep it from you.”
“How did you even know it was for sale?” she asked, turning to face me. We’d stopped walking, others passing us by as we remained locked in each other’s orbit.
“When you mentioned to me that the place might be sold, I kept an eye on the market. I wasn’t sure why at first. I just … I was worried about you losing your job. I can tell you really love working there. Then when I finally saw it was for sale, I knew I needed to buy it.”
“Jonathan, you can’t just buy an entire care home so I can keep my job. That’s madness.”
“That’s not the only reason.”
She stared at me, unconvinced. “No?”
“I’ve never given anything back. I have all this accumulated wealth, and it’s just sitting there making me richer and richer every day. It was about time I did something good with the money. Buying Pinebrook and operating it at cost means a bunch of people stay employed. It means all your residents get to stay living in a place that actually cares about their wellbeing because that’s the way you run it. But most of all, it means that the woman I adore gets to keep doing what she loves.”
“Jonathan,” she breathed, her chest rising and falling swiftly.
Interlinking our fingers, I tugged her close. “I’ll own the place in name only. I won’t be involved. I’ll hire someone to do all the financial and operational stuff. You won’t ever be reporting to me.”
“But it’s just—”
“Ada,” I said, cutting her off. “You know I don’t just adore you, right? I’m head over heels in love with you.”
The moment I said the words, it felt like I’d finally freed something vital that had been trapped inside me. Even if she didn’t feel the same way, it didn’t matter. I just needed her to know how much I loved her. How she’d changed me.
Ada appeared to barely be breathing, her dark eyes shining with emotion as her lower lip trembled.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I said, lifting her hand and placing a gentle kiss on her soft, lovely skin. “I just wanted you to know.”
“Sorry to interrupt, but we need everyone’s help,” Hannah said as she approached us. “Archie and Philomena have gone missing.”
Ada blinked as though pulling herself from a daydream. I could practically see her thoughts racing and yearned to read her mind. “What? When was the last time anyone saw them?”
“Back in the rose gardens, I think,” Hannah replied, and Ada went into action mode.
“Okay, you go and check back there. Have Magdalena stay and keep an on eye everyone else. Jonathan and I will go to the main house and see if they’ve gotten lost in there.”
“All right,” Hannah nodded and left, walking swiftly.
“Come on,” Ada said, and I followed her from the waterfall. It was like she’d tucked my declaration away, sealed it in an airtight container while she dealt with the emergency.
I walked at her side, silent and observant as we reached the estate house and began checking the restaurant and other rooms.
“Where do you think they are?” I asked as we searched.
“I have no idea. They know they aren’t supposed to wander off,” Ada replied. “The problem is some of the residents don’t realise how vulnerable they are if they get lost. They think they’re still young and able to make their way about unassisted. One time when we were visiting the local garden centre, Jim, another resident who’s since passed away, decided he wanted to go visit a few of the other shops in town. Well, some arsehole driver started beeping at him because he was taking too long on the zebra crossing, and Jim started having a panic attack. His bloody heart almost gave out, and he had to be rushed to the hospital.”
“Fucking hell, that’s awful.”
“They really are very vulnerable in a lot of ways,” Ada said, worry creasing her brow. “One misstep on a set of stairs or even a small trip could have them falling and really badly hurting themselves.”
We reached the bathrooms we’d visited when we’d arrived. Ada went to check the ladies’ while I checked the men’s. It was empty.
“Anything?” I asked Ada when she emerged, but she only shook her head.
“Perhaps Hannah’s had some luck. I’ll give her a call,” she said, pulling out her phone just as a dower faced security guard approached us. An elderly man and woman were with him, and it almost appeared as though they were being escorted off the premises.
“Oh my goodness, there you both are!” Ada exclaimed with relief.
“These two with you?” the security guard asked gruffly.
“Yes, thank you so much for—” Ada began, but he cut her off.
“Keep them out of the building. They aren’t allowed back inside.”
Ada blinked. “Pardon?”
“They were pestering the hotel receptionist about renting out a room by the hour,” the security guard went on. “Wouldn’t take no for answer. This is a five-star establishment. Not some seedy roadside B&B.”
With that, he left, and I struggled to keep my amusement at bay. It was fairly obvious why they wanted a room for only an hour, but it appeared the penny hadn’t dropped for Ada yet.
“Why on earth were you two trying to rent out a room?” she asked, peering between the two of them.
“Why do you think?” the woman, Philomena, responded with sass as she folded her arms. The man next to her, Archie, looked shamefaced.
Ada frowned, then realisation dawned as she huffed a tut. “Bloody hell. You’re like a pair of teenagers.”
“What? Archie just had his new hip done a few months ago. He’s been wanting to put it to the test,” Philomena retorted, and I swore Archie was going to pass out from sheer mortification.
“Phil,” he muttered. “There’s no need to tell them that.”
“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” she challenged.
“Right, that’s it. Back to the bus the two of you,” Ada said. “You can eat your lunch there since it seems you have no interest in seeing the waterfall anyway.”
“Doesn’t bother me,” Philomena sassed once again, and Ada just shook her head.
I could tell by the set of her shoulders that she found the encounter amusing, but she had to be the strict authoritarian right then. She made a quick call to Hannah to let her know they’d been found, and I heard the woman give a hoot of relief on the other end of the call. When we reached the bus, the driver was sitting up front reading a newspaper and sipping from a takeaway coffee cup.
“These two are going to eat their lunch aboard if that’s okay?” Ada said, and the driver nodded. “Sure, so long as they don’t make a mess.”
“They won’t.”
I climbed aboard with them while Ada escorted Philomena and Archie farther down the aisle. She grabbed a large container and opened it to remove two sandwiches, some juice and little wrapped buns. Once she handed each of them their food, she returned to the front of the bus holding two more sandwiches, two juices and two buns.
“Hungry?” she asked as she slid into the seat next to me. The warmth of her thigh met the side of mine, her arm brushing me as she passed me a sandwich.
“Yes, thank you. All that searching has given me an appetite,” I said, my lips twitching in amusement.
“Don’t,” she warned. “Do not make a joke.”
“What? It’s funny.” I shook my head, grinning as I continued quietly, “Looking to rent a room out by the hour. They could’ve at least sprung for the full night. Couple of randy cheapskates.”
“I’m sure the poor receptionist was thoroughly appalled,” Ada added, just as quietly, her shoulders shaking with mirth.
“It’s a pity, though. Poor Archie never got the chance to test out that hip.”
At this, she turned and put her hand over my mouth as she tried to hold in her laughter. “Stop. I can’t.”
My chuckling was muffled by her hand as her quiet giggles took over. I reached up, gently removing her fingers from my mouth as I gazed at her tenderly, “I love your smile.”
Her breath caught, and the atmosphere changed. A heavy tension fell between us, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The memory of my declaration from earlier shone in her eyes, and it was a sight to behold. Ada was impossibly beautiful on an ordinary day, but today, with her wrapped up in the knowledge that I was in love with her, she was positively radiant.
“It’s terrifying, isn’t it,” she said at last, and I realised I was absentmindedly stroking the inside of her wrist.
“What is, baby?” I whispered low.
“Being in love,” she answered, and my pulse pounded. Was she …? Did she mean …?
“Ada,” I rumbled, my grip on her tightening. “Say it.”
“S-say what?”
“The terrifying thing.”
She blinked, a tear rolling down her cheek that I instantly reached out to wipe away. Inhaling sharply at my tender touch, she finally admitted, “I love you, Jonathan Oaks.”