Chapter Fifteen
Fifteen
A Pearl of Wisdom
from Nettie Getchell
“Sure enough, love can be lost, but always remember that it can often be found again.”
Tallulah
Later that night, I said to Katy, “Now, remember, we’re just dropping off the basket. It’s almost Mary Joy’s bedtime. We can’t stay.”
Katy bounded down the front steps of Papaw’s house, swinging a small basket—a welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift for Jake. It held cookies from the local bakery, a gift card to the coffee shop, and a toy for Daisy. “Can I play with Daisy for just a few minutes? Please?”
Because I was still feeling guilty about rushing her out of the library earlier, I couldn’t possibly say no. “Okay. But remember, they might not even be home.”
She skipped her way to the sidewalk, looking a bit like Little Red Riding Hood, and peered down the street. “His truck is there.”
I smiled. “Well, let’s go see then. If he’s not, we’ll just leave the basket at his door.”
Before we set off, I checked on Mary Joy as she banged her teether against the stroller.
Even though she’d been having a rough night, she gave me a smile, and my heart melted.
I bent and kissed her head, checking to feel if she felt warm as I did so.
I was worried she was coming down with something. Maybe the virus that was going around.
Honestly, though, she’d seemed perfectly fine until dinnertime; then it went downhill fast. Eating had been a trial.
She’d thrown more fettucine than she’d eaten.
She’d whined and wiggled and cried until I picked her up, held her in my arms. An hour later, her face was still flushed, and because she still had the drool rash, she looked downright pitiful.
We started down the sidewalk, and I took a deep breath, trying to bring my stress level down a notch. It was half past seven, and the sky had a pink hue to it, hinting that the sun would soon be setting. The scent of roses swirled in the air.
I glanced back at Papaw’s house, wondering if I should’ve asked Juliet if she wanted to come with us, but she’d been curled up on the back porch, reading one of Mamaw’s old paperbacks, and I hadn’t wanted to disturb her.
I wasn’t sure what had caused her panic attack at the library earlier, but I had the feeling it was related to why she was here in Forget-Me-Not. I wished I could hurry her healing along or at least take away some of her pain, but I just had to be patient. It would come.
I glanced down at Mary Joy, who was watching the cloud. I’d taken Juliet up on her earlier offer, so starting tomorrow, she was going to watch Mary Joy while I was at work.
I wasn’t fully confident in my decision.
But only because I was worried about the girls getting too attached to Juliet.
All of us, really.
It was going to hurt when Juliet ultimately said goodbye.
I didn’t like goodbyes.
As we neared Mr. Daniels’s house, I saw he was outside watering his flowers and whispered to Katy, “Be sweet.”
Her small chin shot in the air.
“Evenin’!” Mr. Daniels called out. “Fine night, ain’t it?”
“Hello,” I said. “It’s beautiful. A perfect night for a walk.”
I glanced at Katy and gave a pointed cough.
Katy sniffed. “Hi.”
Then she started skipping at the speed of light, zooming past his yard.
I glanced at him. “Sorry. She’ll come around.”
He turned off the hose and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Is she still upset about the trees?”
“She’s sad, is all.”
He nodded. “I am, too.”
Then he went back to watering, and I carried onward, the stroller bumping over cracks in the sidewalk. I wasn’t sure how to get Katy to let go of the grudge she was holding, since letting go of grudges was a lesson I needed to learn as well.
I thought of Deckle and sighed. To my knowledge, he’d never chosen a book for my mama.
That had been Calliper. But really, I shouldn’t be holding a grudge at all.
It wasn’t the library cats’ fault my mama had longed to travel.
Or that neither of my parents had ever wanted to call one place home.
Wandering was simply in their souls. They put their globe-trotting to good use as travel writers who were widely known and respected in their field.
But I didn’t share their wanderlust, and the endless travel when I was younger had affected me deeply. By the time I’d reached my teen years, all I wanted was normalcy. A bedroom of my own would’ve been nice. A school, too. Lasting friendships would’ve been especially welcome.
I felt a pang just thinking about those days.
The constant goodbyes. Because I’d been an inherently shy child, making friends always took a while.
And it felt like every time I did, it was time to move again.
Eventually, I gave up trying. I withdrew.
Into books. Into myself. Until I was eighteen.
That was when I decided enough was enough.
I wanted stability. I chose a college close to Forget-Me-Not so I could stay with Papaw during breaks, always planning to end up here permanently one day.
Then I met Scott.
“Daisy!” Katy shouted, snapping me out of my thoughts.
The sound of barking filled the evening air, and I spotted Daisy and Jake on the sidewalk ahead. Katy gave the dog a big hug, her small fingers disappearing into chocolate-brown fur.
With a smile, Jake said, “It’s like watching a love story unfolding.”
I met his gaze, felt that strange flutter in my chest. “She’s a lovable dog.”
Katy’s eyes sparkled behind her glasses as she said, “Can I walk Daisy around the yard?”
“Sure can.” He handed over the leash. “If she starts pulling, just call for me.”
But she didn’t pull. She fell in step beside Katy, as if they’d walked together a thousand times before.
I was surreptitiously trying to find animals in Jake’s tattoo as he crouched down to Mary Joy’s level to pick up the teether she’d tossed out of the stroller. “Well, hi there,” he said, tickling her toes. “That’s quite a drool rash you’ve got, young lady.”
She kicked her feet out at him and cooed, as if agreeing.
I said, “How do you know about drool rashes?”
Mischief glinted in his eyes. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Narrowing my gaze, I took some wild guesses. “Are you a dentist? A hygienist?” I snapped my fingers. “A drool expert?”
He stood up, handed me the dirty teether, and smiled. “No, no, and definitely no.”
His smile was wide, warm, and made his eyes crinkle playfully.
As I bent to pick up the basket that Katy had abandoned, I said, “Why won’t you tell anyone what you do for a living?”
He folded his arms and lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “I have my reasons, but the top one at the moment is that I’m enjoying your guessing game.”
I was beyond curious. “Can I get a hint?”
He looked toward the sky as if searching for something among the puffy clouds. “All right. My job requires a college degree.”
“Way to narrow things down.” He laughed, and I spotted the image of a tawny, curled-up fawn near his elbow. It was adorable. “I don’t suppose you’d tell me what you majored in?”
“Maybe next time,” he said.
Next time. I liked the sound of that.
I handed Jake the basket. “This is for you. A welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift.”
His whole face softened. “I’ve never gotten a welcome basket before.”
“Just wait. You’ll probably have a dozen baskets by the end of the weekend along with some casseroles and maybe a couple of loaves of banana bread, too. Perks of living in a small town.”
He sifted through the gifts in the basket. “Well, clearly you know the way to my heart.”
My own heart was suddenly doing a two-step. “Is it the cookies?”
He laughed. “No. The squeak toy.”
He squeaked it, and Daisy’s ears twitched; then she barked. She ran toward us, toting Katy along, and kept barking until Jake gave her the toy.
At all the noise, Mary Joy started crying, and I rolled her forward, then back. “That’s our cue to head home. It’s time to say goodbye to Daisy, Katy.”
She immediately dropped to her knees to give the dog more hugs, and Daisy gave her kisses.
I glanced at Jake. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing you around.”
He held my gaze. “You know, most nights Daisy and I go for a walk around seven. You’re welcome to join us. If you want. An open invitation.”
I glanced away, unable to concentrate with him looking at me the way he was. Katy bounced up in front of me and was nodding so vigorously she was bound to have a headache later on.
I thought of Nettie and her earlier wisdom about walking a different path, then threw my perfectly crafted schedule out the window and faced him. “We might just take you up on that from time to time.”
When he smiled, my chest tightened as my heart once again asked, What if him? He seems like a keeper.
Maybe, I told it.
As we headed back home, Katy skipped alongside the stroller and said, “Mr. Jake is nice. I like him.”
I tossed a glance over my shoulder, caught him still watching us. I gave a wave and whispered to Katy, “I like him, too.”
A little after nine, I was curled up on the couch with a bowl of buttery popcorn watching a movie when I heard footsteps on the stairs.
The quick pace of the footfalls told me it couldn’t possibly be Papaw, who’d already turned in for the night.
The deep pitch of the creaking told me it couldn’t possibly be Katy, since her footsteps barely made a sound—and she should be asleep by now. Juliet, then.
A moment later she appeared from the hallway, dressed for bed in an oversized T-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts. Her hair was pulled up in a sloppy bun, looking dark in the low light.
She said, “Don’t mind me, I’m just grabbing a cup of water.”
Pausing the movie, I smiled. “I’m not minding at all. I’m just unwinding a little before bed. I know if I try to go sleep now, I won’t be able to turn off my thoughts. Today’s been…”
“Stressful?” she supplied.
“To put it mildly.” Then I took a deep breath and slipped out of my comfort zone by saying, “You’re welcome to join me in the unwinding of it all. I’m watching Pride and Prejudice. It’s my comfort movie. I’ve probably seen it at least a dozen times. There’s more popcorn in the bag on the counter.”
She tipped her head, smiled. “Maybe I will. I do love that movie, and the popcorn scent is making my stomach rumble.”
Moments later, she was sitting on the couch with me and glancing at the TV screen. “This is Pride and Prejudice?”
I turned her way. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen this version.” It was the BBC miniseries, the one with Colin Firth.
She shook her head. “Isn’t this one like five hours long?”
“Worth every minute.”
Looking doubtful, she said, “The version I love is the one with—”
I interrupted. “Don’t say Keira Knightley.”
“—Keira Knightley,” she said with a laugh.
“I’m not sure we can be friends anymore. That movie doesn’t hold a candle to this one.”
“I can’t believe that,” she said. “It’s amazing. Have you even seen it?”
“I don’t need to.” I gestured to the screen. “This one is perfection.”
“Well, I think we need to watch my version after we finish this one, for comparison’s sake. I bet afterward, you’ll be converted and won’t question our friendship.”
I caught the lighthearted, playful look in her eyes and said, “I doubt it, but okay. I’ll give it a try. But only because our friendship is on the line.”
“Are we watching this whole thing tonight?” she asked.
“I was planning on taking it an hour at a time. We can pick up where we leave off tomorrow night, if that’s okay with you.”
She tossed a piece of popcorn in her mouth. “Sounds good to me.”
And as I restarted the movie, I smiled, already looking forward to it.