4. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Jon
Part of me wants to put all the cards on the table and tell her everything I remember, but the other part doesn't want to say a word. Will she believe me? Will she forgive me, or will she hate me?
She doesn't want to know, and I don't want to tell her, so we'll go with that plan for now.
I make four pancakes in silence while she sips her cup of coffee.
"How do you like your eggs?" I ask her.
"I'll just have pancakes with some bacon. Thank you."
I put two slices of bacon next to her pancakes and hand her the plate.
"Thank you," she says.
"I'd still like to know how you like your eggs."
"I like them over-medium," she says. "What about you?"
"Scrambled," I say, "It's just easier that way."
"Is it okay if we talk about Jimmy?" she asks. "So long as we steer clear of the day he died?"
I set my plate down on the table and sit.
"Yes," I say. "Jimmy was a good man with a level head on his shoulders. He was wise beyond his years, and he loved you."
When a smile spreads across her face, I can't help but smile back because I know I just made her very happy.
"I see you're still wearing your engagement ring," I say, pointing at the solitaire diamond ring on her finger. “My parents never asked you about it?"
"Your mom did," she says. "During my interview."
"What did you tell them?"
"I told them the truth. My fiancé died." She twists the ring around her finger a few times before continuing. "They said they were sorry for my loss but never asked any more questions after that."
"Jimmy told me you two knew each other since elementary school."
"Yes," she says. "We met when my best friend, Betty, introduced us. She liked his friend, and I came along for the ride. It was during recess, and she wanted to talk to Anthony. Jimmy and I stood there feeling awkward until we started talking about music and movies. We were inseparable after that."
"Your eyes are even more beautiful when you're talking about Jimmy."
"Thank you," she says shyly.
"What happened to Betty and Anthony?" I ask to keep the conversation flowing.
"They're still together," she says. "They're getting married after college."
"I'm sorry," I say, feeling like I need to apologize again for her loss.
"Don't be," she says. "I don't mind talking about it. I'm happy for my friends."
"Are you going to go to college?" I ask.
"I was going to enroll wherever Jimmy was stationed after boot camp. Now, I need to take some time off and regroup. Figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life."
"Had you two already picked a wedding date?"
"No," she says, "My dad died, and I needed my mother's permission to get married, which she vehemently refused to grant me. We decided we would elope as soon as I turned eighteen and he was able to take some time off."
"Elope?" I say, surprised, "What about the rest of your family? Wouldn't they want to be there?"
"I'm an only child, so a big wedding was not in the cards for me."
"What about Jimmy's family?"
"They would've been there. They supported our decision to elope and understood our reasons."
When I don't say anything but just stare at her, she says, "What?"
"Nothing," I say, "I just have a hard time concentrating when you're looking at me. Your eyes are gorgeous."
"Thank you," she says, looking away.
She's shy and humble, and she has no idea just how beautiful she is.
"Jimmy once told me that only two percent of the world population has green eyes."
"How did that even come up?" she asks.
"We were talking about you and how hard it must have been for him to maintain eye contact with you."
Now, she's blushing.
"I know a fun fact too," she says.
"What's that?" I ask, smiling because she's smiling.
"Only three percent of the world's population has your eye color."
"Really?" I ask, "How do you know that?"
"Jimmy told me. He researched it when we first met because he said he'd never met anyone with green eyes before. He went to the library and looked it up. The next time I saw him, he told me that green, gray, hazel, and violet eyes are the rarest."
"Well, I'll be darned," I say. "I had no idea."
***
After breakfast, Sharon goes upstairs to check on Noah while I wash the dishes.
"Good morning, Sweetheart," says Mom, walking into the kitchen.
"Good morning. Did you get enough sleep?"
"No," she says. "The older you get, the tougher it is to rebound from a three-hour sleep deficit. What time did your father leave?"
"About an hour ago," I say. "Do you want some pancakes with eggs and bacon?"
"I'll take a fried egg and some toast if you don't mind. Has Shay come down yet?"
"Yes. She ate breakfast and went back upstairs to see if Noah is awake."
"My first interview is in half an hour," she says when I hand her the egg and dry toast.
"Good morning, Mommy!" exclaims Noah, who is being led into the kitchen by Sharon.
"Do you want some breakfast?" she asks, helping him get into the chair beside Mom.
"Yes, please," he answers. "Can I have a blueberry pancake and a chocolate chip pancake?"
"What about some eggs or bacon?" I ask.
"No, thank you."
"And to drink?" asks Sharon. "Do you want orange juice or milk?"
"Milk, please."
"Mom, do you mind if Sharon and I take Noah with us to visit Loren? I called her this morning, and she said she's looking forward to our visit."
"No, of course not. You can take him with you. I'll be here conducting interviews. Hopefully, we can get someone hired today."
"I hope so too, Mom."
"I wish your father was here to help me."
"Do you want me to help?" I say, "I don't mind staying."
"What about your visit with the neighbor?"
"I can call her and tell her we'll come by later. After the interviews."
"Thank you, Sweetheart. I appreciate your staying to help me."
"I'll take Noah out to the back. There are a lot of nice flowers out there to smell and learn about,” says Sharon.
***
The interviews are scheduled back-to-back. We interview five people in total and are done by noon.
"What do you think?" asks Mom after I walk the last candidate to the door.
"Well," I begin, "I think Robert knows his stuff. The landscaping alone around here is no joke. It's not just a matter of mowing the lawn. There are flowers to tend, plants to water, and trees and shrubs to trim. There's just a lot."
"What about the housekeepers?" she asks.
"Olivia has a family and is looking for long-term work. I think she's dependable and has good references from Loren. How often do you plan to have her here?"
"Every day would be ideal," says Mom. "I'd like her to cook dinner for us three or four times a week. She said she's available Monday through Friday. What about Gretchen? She's a college student and might have more time to be here."
"But she might not last," I say. "Once she graduates a year from now, she'll be off looking for work in whatever field she's studying."
"So, Robert and Olivia?" Mom asks.
"They're my top choices."
"Mine too," she says.
"What do you have planned for the rest of the day?"
"I'm going to meet your father for lunch to go over the prospects so I can call them in the morning."
"Sounds like a plan. Sharon and I are going to visit Loren. She's expecting us for lunch."
"Okay," says Mom. "I'm going to get ready. I'll see you tonight."
Walking out the back door, I see Sharon deep in conversation with Noah.
"What are you two up to?" I ask when I reach them.
"We found some ladybugs in this shrub," says Sharon, "I'm putting them on Noah's arm so he can get a better look. Be careful with them, Sweetie. Be gentle."
Some of the curls in her hair have come loose and are framing her beautiful face. I look away when she catches me staring at her.
"How did the interviews go?" she asks.
"I think we made our choices," I say. "Mom is going to meet Dad for lunch to discuss it further, but I think we'll have someone here by next week."
"I told your mom I could do the housekeeping, but she said no."
"She wants you to focus on Noah. This house is a lot of work."
"I guess you're right, but between now and Monday, I can do it."
"And I can help," I say.
"I do love the garden out here," she says, looking at our beautiful surroundings. "It's so pretty and peaceful."
"Let's put the ladybugs back, Buddy," I say. "We're walking over to our neighbor's house to have lunch with her."
I watch as Sharon helps Noah gently place the ladybugs back on one of the leaves.
"I'd like to take some photos out here when I have some free time," she says. "It's beautiful."
The breeze has loosened her curls even more. I could reach out and tuck one of those strands behind her ear, but I keep my hands to myself.
"Give me your hand, Noah," I say.
We walk together across the back of our property. A small clearing lined by trees leads us right to Loren's property.
"Her house is so charming," says Sharon when we see the back of Loren's house. It's also a colonial, about 3,000 square feet. It's painted slate blue, and the front and the back doors are both painted a golden yellow.
"That's where I live," I say, pointing to the guesthouse behind Loren's house. "It's small but comfortable. It has several windows that let in a lot of light."
"Are you going to move in with your parents or stay here?"
"I haven't decided yet. I could move and still help Loren when she needs me, but being here gives me more peace of mind."
"I understand," says Sharon. "She's all alone and if something happens, well, you'd be here to help."
We walk up the back porch steps and knock on the door.
"Well, hello!" says Loren, opening the screen door.
"Hi, Miss Loren," says Sharon, "I can't believe we're neighbors."
"What are the odds?" says Loren. "We were meant to be friends."
I smile as I watch them hug each other like they're best friends.
"Come in, you two. I made roast beef sandwiches and a potato salad for lunch."
"That sounds delicious," I say.
"Are you hungry?" Loren asks.
"I could eat," I say.
"Hi, Noah," says Loren. "Remember me?"
"Yes," says Noah. "We met you on the plane."
"That's right," she says. "What a bright young man."
"What would you like to drink, Noah? I have water, milk, and lemonade."
"Can I have lemonade?" asks Noah, looking at Sharon.
"Yes, you can have lemonade. It sounds good."
The time at Loren's flies by. We spend it talking about her life growing up in Buffalo, her marriage and move to Garrison, the loss of her husband, and her only son.
I notice how Sharon keeps the conversation centered on Loren. She wants to get to know her on a personal level, making her the focus of our visit.
Sharon is sweet, kind, and thoughtful. My parents struck gold when they hired her, and I can see why Jimmy fell head-over-heels in love with her.
"Can I change the subject for a minute?" asks Sharon.
"Yes, of course, Dear," says Loren, "What is it?"
"I closed my bank account back home. I want to open one here and deposit a couple of checks."
"Oh, Honey," says Loren, "You can go to my credit union. I've been banking with them for over twenty years."
"They'll love to get your money," I say, smiling. "I can take you in the morning if you want."
"Just ask for Patrick and let him know I sent you," says Loren. "He'll take good care of you."
"I will," says Sharon. "Thank you both so much."
"Now, I'm the one changing the subject," says Loren. "Jon, I'm assuming you'll be moving in with your folks soon."
"No," I say, "I like my independence, "I'm staying in your guesthouse as long as you'll have me."
Loren's smile is enough to convince me that I made the right decision and that I'm happy to stay.
Sharon glances at me and smiles when I walk her and Noah back home.
"Loren is a great lady," she says. "You chose to stay in her guesthouse because you don't want to leave her alone."
I nod and smile in response. When her gaze lingers on mine, I realize I could look into her eyes for the rest of my life and never get tired of it.