12. Jess
Jess had just put her daisies in some water when she heard a car pull up outside.
She headed out to see who it could be. She definitely owed Alma, the neighbor, a visit. But of course Alma could just walk over to say hello if she wanted. She wouldn’t be arriving in a car.
A big, late-model pick-up truck parked in the drive as she watched. The windows were tinted, but a moment later the door opened, and Clint got out.
He strode for her door like he was on a grim mission. His steely eyes were fixed on the ground in front of him, and his jaw was set. He carried one of Mary’s best casserole dishes, his big hands making it look small.
“Hello, Clint,” Jess said in surprise.
“Oh,” he said, looking up for the first time. “Jess, hey. Mom made your favorite—lobster mac and cheese bake. There’s a note on there about how long to put it in the oven and all.”
“Wow, thank you,” Jess said, her mouth watering at the memory of her favorite McKinnon meal.
She took the heavy casserole dish with both hands. The note taped to the top, written in Mary’s spidery hand on a page of the familiar flowered notepad she always used made Jess so happy that it almost hurt.
“Glad you’re back,” Clint said in his growly voice. “And that you came by. Don’t be a stranger. She likes having you there.”
And that was the most he had said to her since they were kids.
“Thank you,” Jess said. “Would you like to come in for a coffee?”
She knew he wouldn’t come in, but Jess had been raised well enough that it was second nature to offer.
“Sure,” he said suddenly, looking as surprised about it as she was.
Jess blinked at him in a panic. There actually wasn’t any coffee, as far as she knew. And even if there had been, the coffee maker looked like something out of a scary movie.
But she turned on her heel and headed into the house, determined to be a good hostess. She could hear Clint’s footsteps and sense his big presence behind her.
“Wow, this place is a wreck,” he said mildly.
“I’ve definitely got some work to do,” Jess agreed, feeling a little peeved, even though he was right.
She hadn’t expected to feel defensive about it, but the truth was that the house was growing on her.
“It’s got good bones, though,” he allowed.
“It’s a nice layout,” she said. “I do like that.”
“Sure,” he said. “Layout is nice and all. But what I’m noticing is that everything is level. Your doors and window frames look good, even though the paint is old. The walls aren’t cracking at the corners.”
“Wow,” Jess said, wondering how she hadn’t really noticed that. “My husband did all the house things back in Pennsylvania. I never had to pay attention to that stuff.”
“Most people don’t,” Clint allowed. “Even if they should. Everyone just wants to know if the kitchen wall is load bearing and that’s the end of it.”
“I guess everyone wants an open layout,” Jess laughed. “So, I have a confession. I don’t actually have coffee, unless you count the can of instant stuff in the fridge. I can make us some of that. Or I do have sweet tea, if you’d prefer.”
“Sweet tea,” he said, sitting at the counter. “Please.”
“Coming right up,” she told him.
At least the kitchen was clean. They had really done a good job yesterday. And the flowers on the counter made it look so cheerful. She pulled the tea out of the fridge and poured two glasses.
“The fridge works okay?” Clint asked.
“Seems to,” she told him. “It’s loud, and I’m sure it’s not very efficient. But it keeps the food cold.”
“Can I take a look?” he asked.
“Be my guest,” she told him, mystified.
She was glad that she and Glory had wrestled the fridge out from the wall to clean behind it yesterday. It had taken them a while, and she’d almost wrenched her shoulder, but it was worth it to know he wasn’t going to find the filth that had been there yesterday if he tried to look back there now.
Clint headed over and Jess gasped as he slid the whole thing out from the wall with one hand.
“What?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing,” she said. “I just didn’t expect you to do that.”
She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of complimenting his strength. Besides, it would only embarrass him.
“Looks good back here,” he said. “But I can bring over a good vacuum for the coils.”
“We vacuumed it yesterday,” Jess told him.
“With a normal vacuum cleaner?” he asked.
“Yes,” she told him.
“I’ve got something stronger,” he said. “Only if you want though.”
“Sure, Clint,” she said. “That would be great.”
“I can take a look at some other things while I’m here too,” he told her. “I’m doing a kitchen reno during the day right now, but I can swing by after work. I’ll bring some tools and see what we can knock out.”
“Really?” Jess asked.
She was sure she ought to say no. He was only offering to help out of guilt for being unfriendly to her yesterday, or maybe because Mary and Becca were pressuring him. Letting him work off his guilt would be taking advantage.
But I don’t even know where to start with this house,a worried voice in the back of her head whispered.
“Just tomorrow,” she said softly. “I don’t want to be a drain on your time.”
“We’ll see,” he said, shifting his weight in the restless way she remembered from when they were kids.
The afternoon light slanted through the kitchen curtains and set his golden hair alight. His gray eyes were on Jess’s now, a strange expression in them, almost like recognition.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Outside, there was the sound of another car pulling up the driveway. Clint turned to the window and the spell was broken.
“What on earth?” Jess said, wiping her hands on her hips as she headed for the front door, where a yellow cab had pulled up in the drive behind Clint’s truck.
As Jess watched, the back door opened and Liberty stepped out, dragging a large suitcase with her.
“Liberty?” Jess said, stunned.
The cab pulled out like it was in a race to get to its next fare, sending a cloud of dust up in the air.
“Mom,” Liberty said, still frozen in the middle of the driveway.
“Honey, what’s going on?” Jess asked, moving toward her as fast as her feet would carry her. “What’s wrong?”
Liberty took a deep breath, like she was steadying herself, and then let it out in a giant sob.
“I l-left Chase,” she cried. “Can I stay here with you for a little while?”
“Oh, sweetie,” Jess said on autopilot, pulling her oldest into her arms as if she were ten again, and upset that she hadn’t gotten first-chair clarinet. “Of course you can stay with me. Wherever I am, that’s always your home. You know that, right? But what happened?”
But Liberty had melted into tears in her mother’s arms and clearly wasn’t ready to explain.
“I, uh, I’ve gotta get going,” Clint said in his gravelly voice, making a quick escape to his truck.
While Liberty cried on her shoulder, Jess watched Clint drive away, and wondered why men were always running from emotions.
“Thanks, Mom,” Liberty sniffled after a moment, still holding Jess tight.