Chapter 13 – Jennie
Granny is the first one done with breakfast. She excuses herself from the table and goes to her room to get dressed. Pumpkin follows right behind her.
As we sit at the table eating, I can’t help noticing how Chris’s chest fills out his T-shirt.
It hugs his torso like a glove, outlining his muscles.
His shirt is short sleeved, baring his muscles and the thick veins running down his forearms. There’s not an ounce of flab on him.
I wish I could say the same about myself.
His feet are bare. His hair is damp, so I’m thinking he managed to sneak in a shower this morning.
“I see Micah made good on his promise to drop off more clothes.”
Chris nods as he sips his coffee. “So, what’s on your agenda for today?”
He knows it’s my day off. “Granny and I will hang out here and keep ourselves busy.”
Chris sets his mug on the table. “Jennie.” His voice is heavy, laced with intention. He’s staring at the table top, tracing the pattern of a flower on the tablecloth. He’s nervous. He’s fidgeting.
My pulse picks up. “Yes?” My stomach is in knots because I know what’s coming. Questions.
“Yesterday, at the hospital,” he begins. “I’m pretty sure I said some things to you.”
There’s no point in playing dumb. If he wants to talk about it, the least I can do is meet him halfway. “You did.” I’m a nervous wreck because I don’t know where this is going. Does he want to take it back? Ask me to pretend it never happened?
I decide the best course of action is to give him a graceful out. “Chris, you were under the influence of a sedative, so I won’t hold you responsible for the things you said.”
He’s so unsure as he forces himself to look at me. “That’s just it, Jennie. I meant what I said—every word of it. I just never meant to tell you.”
My heart stops, and I swallow hard. “Why wouldn’t you tell me, if that’s how you feel?”
“I didn’t want to put you on the spot or make things awkward between us.
You made it plenty clear in the past that you aren’t interested in me, not like that.
” He runs his fingers through his hair and grimaces, but it’s emotional pain on his face this time, not physical pain.
“God, I’m sorry,” he says. “I wish I’d kept my damn mouth shut.
” His brown eyes radiate pain and regret.
“I would never want to do anything to jeopardize our—”
“Chris, stop.” I reach for his good hand.
He pulls it back, as if touching me is simply too much right now. “Jennie, I—”
“No, please, let me speak.”
He nods and goes back to tracing the pattern on the tablecloth.
Now it’s my turn to bare my soul. I should have done this a long time ago. “One of my biggest regrets in life is saying no to you all those years ago.”
His head snaps up, and he stares at me in disbelief. “What?”
“I thought I was protecting you back then, from all the bullying and slurs that were leveled at me. I knew you had it rough already, because of your mom, and I didn’t want to add to that.”
He looks at me like I’m speaking a foreign language, and he doesn’t understand a word of it.
“The truth is,” I say, forcing myself to continue before I lose my nerve, “I feel the same way about you. I always have.” Tears blur my vision. “But I was stupid and afraid, and ended up ruining everything. I’m so sorry.”
Now he’s the one reaching for my hand. He squeezes it so tightly, I wince. “Sorry,” he says as he gentles his grasp. “Jennie, sweetheart, you could never ruin anything.” He looks me in the eye. “Say it again.”
I laugh shakily. “Say what?”
“What you just said.”
Suddenly, I’m feeling as bashful as a middle-school girl again talking to the boy she’s crushing on. “That I feel the same way about you?”
When he smiles at me, a terrible weight is lifted from my shoulders. I don’t see blame or accusation in his eyes. I see something that looks an awful lot like relief mixed with joy.
“Jennie—”
Our heartfelt moment is interrupted by the sound of multiple sirens in the distance. Every second, they get louder and louder, as if they’re coming our way.
A chill skates down my spine. “Are those—”
He nods. “Police sirens, yes.”
They sound so close!
Too close!
We stare at each other. “What—” My cell phone, which is on the nightstand in my bedroom, starts ringing. “I’d better grab that in case it’s the diner.”
Before I’m even out of my chair, Chris’s cellphone starts ringing.
Then my landline starts ringing.
Three phones ringing at the same time? That can’t be a coincidence.
Chris answers his. “Nelson here. Darlene, what’s up?” His expression changes instantly as he puts his phone on speaker. “Repeat that, Darlene. I’ve got Jennie right here with me.”
Darlene’s voice comes over the speakerphone. “There’s a fire at the diner. The fire department is on their way.”
“Oh, my God!” As I jump up and race to my bedroom, I can hear my phone ringing again. I grab it off my nightstand and check the screen to see I have two missed calls from Robert. He’s in the process of leaving me a voice message when I call him back.
“Robert!” I say when he picks up. “I heard about the fire. I’m on my way. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Is anyone else—”
“No. I was the only one here when the smoke alarms went off.” He pauses to cough before he adds, “Jennie, the fire is in your office.”
“What!” It wouldn’t surprise me to hear there was a fire in the kitchen, but in my office? There’s nothing flammable in there. “Stay outside and let the fire department handle it. They’re on their way. So am I.” And then I end the call.
I return to the kitchen as Chris is attempting to tuck his T-shirt into his jeans.
“I talked to Robert,” I say. “He’s safe. He said the fire started in my office.”
The look on Chris’s face surely mirrors mine. That’s impossible.
I call Dawn to tell her about the fire and ask if she can come stay with Granny.
“Of course!” she says. “I’ll be right there.” Hardly two minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. When I open it, Dawn rushes in, breathless.
I pull her into my arms for a hug. “I can’t thank you enough!”
She gestures at the door. “You two, go. I’ve got everything covered here.”
“Your sling!” I remind Chris.
He waves me forward. “There’s no time for that. We need to go.”
I drive us the two blocks to the diner. Two cruisers with lights flashing are parked behind the building.
“Park over there on the side street,” Chris says. “The firetrucks will need to get close.”
As we approach the rear of the building, a firetruck pulls in and comes to a stop. Firefighters jump out and begin donning the rest of their protective gear.
From where we’re standing, flames are visible through my office window, and the back door is blocked by a deputy. “Go around to the front,” he yells at us over the commotion. “This way isn’t safe.”
Chris and I round the block to the front of the shopping center, where a small crowd of onlookers has gathered in front of the diner.
They’re peering through the front windows as they try to see what’s going on.
Robert is standing out front. When I spot him, I rush to him and wrap my arms around his waist.
Robert hugs me back. “I’m so sorry, Jennie.
” He coughs again, probably because his throat is irritated by the smoke.
“I didn’t see or hear a thing until the smoke alarms went off.
As soon as I heard them, I searched for the source of the smoke, and when I opened your office door, I saw the flames.
There was no way I could put it out with a fire extinguisher.
Not on my own. It was already too involved.
It’s arson, honey. It has to be. Your desk was on fire, nothing else. ”
The diner door opens, and Deputy Stephens comes out. “Hey, boss,” he says to Chris. “They’re putting the fire out now. It’s nearly extinguished.”
“How extensive is the damage?” Chris asks the deputy.
“Jennie’s desk and computer are destroyed. The whole thing was engulfed in flames when I arrived.”
“Was there anything flammable on your desk?” Chris asks me.
I shake my head. “No. Nothing that would spark a fire. Just my computer, some notepads, pens, a stapler, and a landline. Some picture frames. That’s it.”
“We need to look at security camera footage,” Chris says to Officer Stephens. Then he turns to me. “Obviously, your computer’s no use now. Can you access the footage from your phone?”
“Yes!” I can’t believe I hadn’t already thought of that. I pull up the security app on my phone and look at this morning’s recordings.
We see video of Robert arriving at six, as he always does.
Then, at six-fifteen, someone dressed in black, their face obscured by a black ski mask, walks up to the camera at the rear entrance and smashes it with a hammer.
The same thing happens to the camera positioned in the hallway right outside my office door.
“Someone did this on purpose?” I ask. It’s a rhetorical question, obviously, because the proof is staring me in the face. I just can’t believe it.
A few minutes later, the white-haired fire chief walks through the dining room and joins us out front.
“Fire’s out,” he says in a gruff voice. “The desk and chair are destroyed, and the floor underneath is scorched. There’s soot on the ceiling and plenty of smoke damage.
My best guess, from what I can see, is the fire started in the trashcan beside the desk.
We found an empty gas can on the floor nearby.
” The man frowns. “I’m sorry, ma’am. The fire inspector is on his way. ”
A wave of dizziness hits me, and my knees practically buckle. Chris catches me with his good arm and eases me down on the sidewalk. “Sit right here, sweetheart. I’m going inside to take a look at your office.”
Just as Chris and the fire chief head inside, Maggie, Ruth, and Jack appear on the sidewalk.
“Jack and I checked the police scanner as soon as we heard the sirens,” Ruth says.