Speak From The Heart: a small town romance Read online

  I pick Katie. I always need to pick my daughter first, and I ask her to show me the book and her pictures, and then ask her if she understands what Emily said about people dying and how Emily was correct, it won’t be the same thing when she leaves. We can think about her and talk about her every day, although the talking part I know won’t happen. Even I’ll be silent and grumpy when she goes.

  “I’m going to check on Emily. You stay right here, okay?”

  I enter the house to find Emily standing before the kitchen sink. The one that still needs to be repaired. I feel like the damage buys me time since it will take several weeks for a new sink to be delivered, and she still hasn’t made a decision on one yet.

  “You shouldn’t make up stories for her,” I say, keeping my voice low as I come up behind her, stepping close so she can feel my heat on her back. I lower my nose to her neck and inhale the rain shower and freshwater scent of her mixed with sunshine.

  “Sometimes make-believe is all we have,” she replies, keeping her eyes glued to the window over the sink.

  “You still need to get this sink fixed,” I remind her. It was my purpose two days ago, and now I’m putting up a fence for her instead. I inhale, noting a scent I smelled the other night.

  “Do I smell fresh paint?”

  “I have to repaint the living room and dining room,” she mutters. Before she sells. Before she rents. Before she leaves.

  “There’s no rush. You have weeks to get things done,” I say, hope rising in my chest.

  “I got an email from my boss the other day. I need to be in Naperville a week from next Monday.”

  “So you come back and finish whatever you need to do when you are done in this Naperville place.” My voice catches, knowing it’s not that easy. Knowing before she says anything that’s not how it’s going to happen.

  “I’ve already taken three weeks plus a week of bereavement. I need to finish Nana’s house before I leave.”

  “A new sink won’t be here that quickly,” I tell her, still pressed against her but feeling the distance growing between us.

  “I’ll figure it out,” she says, her voice weakening.

  “Because you’re efficient,” I tease without any humor. She shrugs before me. A silent Emily worries me.

  I press a kiss to her shoulder. I’m unable to handle the heavy stuff today. I want to take her up against the sink and tell her not to leave me, but I don’t think more angry sex will sway her to stay. It would feel amazing, but it wouldn’t solve anything. Plus, Katie is right outside.

  “Go out with me,” I whisper.

  “What?” She shifts so she can look at me over her shoulder, but I don’t look up at her. Not yet.

  “On a date. Say yes.”

  “Okay.” Thankfully, I hear the smile in her voice, and I return the smile against her neck.

  “Maybe three times, and the spell will be broken for you as well.”

  “What spell?” She chuckles, tips her head back and melts into my chest.

  “The one where you continue to resist me.”

  “I’m not resisting you.” Laughter fills her voice as her slender arms cover my sweaty ones wrapped around her middle.

  “How about a spell where you open your heart to me?”

  She stills and then slowly spins in my arms.

  “Jess, we shouldn’t do this . . .” Her voice fades.

  “Just a date.” I cup her jaw and kiss her lips, cutting off anymore resistance and the possibility of her rejection. I can play make-believe, too. I can make believe Emily might love me, and I can convince her to stay.

  Rule 16

  Music is a universal language.

  [Emily]

  I’m nervous as I wait for Jess to pick me up. I’m exhausted after another day of painting and my limbs ache, but I’m excited to go out. For the twentieth time, I smooth down my floral print dress, wondering if it’s too much. It’s white with bright red petals and black stamens. It’s fun, but maybe too fun. I don’t know where he’s taking me, so I didn’t know how to dress. When a knock sounds at the front door, I jump and giggle at my silliness.

  “Hey,” I say as I open the door. When I look up, my breath catches. Before me is a cleaned-up Jess looking like a rebel schoolboy in dark pants and a bright blue dress shirt rolled to his elbows. With his hair down, he’s a dream.

  “Wow,” he says. He takes me in with equal appreciation, and I tug at the skirt of my dress. “That’s some dress.” His eyes rove back up the form-fitting bodice, and he gives me a crooked smile.

  “Let me grab my purse.” I reach for a crossbody bag that I wouldn’t normally pair with this dress and step back toward him. When he holds out his hand, my palm starts to sweat, but I set my hand in his, and he leads me to this truck.

  We have a forty-minute drive, he tells me, and we chat about Katie at first.

  “I spoke with her future teacher and a special education one. The SPED teacher is familiar with the picture program and has all kinds of ideas to help Katie continue to communicate with others.”

  “Jess, that’s amazing.”

  He swipes a hand through his hair and smiles. “I can’t believe my luck. Katie will start meeting with the teacher before school begins in order to get familiar with her.”

  “This is such great news, Jess. I’m so excited for Katie and for you.” I reach for his forearm and squeeze.

  “I owe it all to you,” he says, his voice dropping as we speed along the highway to our destination.

  “I didn’t do anything,” I say. I don’t want all the credit. I had an idea. They took it to the next step.

  “You’ve done more than you know.” His voice softens, and I want to ask what he means, but I’m trying to keep things light, safe for tonight.

  “Just a date,” he’d said, cutting off all conversation about how it might not be a good idea. The clock is ticking toward my departure date. When I think of Katie and the potential for her success, I’m so pleased, but I’m also saddened that I won’t be a part of it.

  “So where are we going?” I question.

  “You’ll see soon enough.” He’s excited about wherever he’s taking me, and we fall into easy conversation about other things. Eventually, we pull into the parking lot of Interlaken, a school for the musically talented.

  “I hope you like this,” he says, squinting through the windshield, suddenly nervous about his decision. I read the marquee once we pass it in the lot.

  An Acoustic Night of the Classics.

  “What is this?” I’m familiar with the school but not their activities.

  “It’s a concert.” Jess parks the car and then shuts off the engine. “I typically take my mom on a date for my birthday.” His face pinks when he mentions the sweet gesture. “It’s my thank you to her for helping me with Katie, but she told me to take you instead.”

  “Your mother told you to take me out?” I shriek. An anxious giggle mixes with the question.

  “I asked you out. My mom just suggested I use the tickets with you instead of canceling them.”

  “You canceled a date with your mom to go out with me?” Disbelief colors my voice. She’s going to hate me.

  “I only have so much time with you, Emily. I can make it up to her later.”

  We stare at one another, and my heart breaks with what he isn’t saying. He accepts that I’m leaving so he’s trying to make the most of the time before I go. Without further discussion, Jess opens his door, walks around the truck to my side, and helps me out of his truck. He leads me to the outdoor amphitheater without letting go of my hand.

  It’s a beautiful setting. A white canvas canopy hangs over the sunken stage. We actually enter at ground level and walk down to stadium-style seats. After we find our seats, Jess asks me if I’d like a drink. He slips away with my order and returns shortly after with a wine for me and a beer for himself.

  “To living in the now,” he says. He taps his beer gently against the edge of my glass, and I stare
at him. Those were Nana’s words. Live in the now, Emily.

  I want to counter with her additional advice and say speak from the heart, but it seems too romantic, and when I consider Katie’s lack of speech, perhaps inappropriate.

  “To life in the moment,” I reply, though I don’t like how that sounds. I’ve lived too much in the moment with past hookups and random relationships. I don’t want just a moment with Jess—I want long term. It’s an absolute gamble to ask him if we have a chance. Could we work? Should I stay? Will there be more for us?

  As I watch him swallow back a sip of his beer, my heart aches. I really like him. He turns to look at me as if he could feel me watching him.

  “Thank you for tonight,” I say, not certain why I’m giving him gratitude before the night has finished. His brows furrow.

  “You’re making it sound like the night’s already over,” he teases.

  “I’m not. I’m just . . . thankful for this time with you.”

  “Me too.” He leans over and kisses me, tender and sweet and too brief before he pulls back and sets his beer at his feet. The stage lights blink, and a young man walks to the center. He introduces himself with a smoky voice and then he strums a few strings on his guitar before breaking into song. His rendition of “Fly Me to the Moon” takes on a new meaning. It was one of Nana’s favorite songs, and my eyes well instantly with tears.

  “Shit,” Jess mutters. “This was a bad idea.” His arm, which was over the back of my seat, tugs me to him, and he presses his lips to the side of my head.

  “We can leave,” he suggests.

  I gently turn down his offer. “No, this is perfect. It’s Nana’s favorite song, and his voice is beautiful. This . . . this means a lot to me.” It’s as if Jess knows I am struggling and missing my grandmother, but I’ve also been too distracted and working hard to fix her place that I haven’t had a chance to process everything. I’ve been a bit disgruntled over the effort needed to make the necessary improvements, and tonight is the break I didn’t know I needed. Here we can sit, listen to her favorite music under a starry summer night, and just remember her.

  “It’s a perfect way to celebrate Nana, to remember her.”

  I place my hand on his thigh and shift a little to lean on him despite the armrest in my way. Jess presses another kiss to my temple and keeps his arm around me while we listen to a smoky tenor and his acoustic guitar perform beautiful versions of the classic crooner songs my nana loved so dearly.

  When the concert ends, Jess escorts me back to the truck, and we head back toward Elk Lake City. He suggests a stop off the highway at a quiet little restaurant along the larger lake. Once there, we order a late dinner, I drink more wine, and I feel relaxed for the first time in weeks.

  “You’d really sell?” Jess asks after I tell him a story about visiting Nana’s house as a child.

  “Actually, Grace and I decided renting would be best for now. It’s the end of the month, and I’ll never be able to fix it up and flip the place fast enough. It gives me time to set up workers for the remaining repairs and then rent it out in a month when fall begins.”

  Jess nods and turns his head to look at the darkened sky through the window beside our table. “Just make a list of the things you want done, and I’ll do them.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that,” I say, and his head turns back to me. He already has two jobs and Katie.

  “You didn’t ask. I’m offering.”

  I’m ready to argue I don’t need his help, reminding him of the efficiency he likes to toss back at me, but I could use his assistance. I don’t know who to trust in the area, and I don’t want to leave the care of Nana’s home to just anyone.

  “Thank you. I’ll write a list and then pay you for everything.”

  His jaw clenches as he silently agrees. “The sink will need to be at the top of your list.”

  Ah, yes, the damn kitchen sink. I really should redo the entire kitchen and make it what I want, but I remember there isn’t a point. I’m not going to be the one living there.

  “So tell me more about your assignment,” Jess says. He shifts topics, and I sigh.

  “It’s nothing great, just another story. Another teacher strike, or municipal meeting, or community decision. It’s not what I’d ever planned to write. I wanted a byline column like Nana, though not necessarily on etiquette, and what have I gotten? Passed up. Again. Someone else got the column I wanted.” An editorial review of happenings and such with more human interest went to another colleague because I’ve been indisposed. At least, that’s how it was put in the email containing the minutes of our weekly team meeting this past week, which I wasn’t able to attend. For the third week in a row.

  “I’m always passed up,” I say. I can hear the exasperation in my voice even though I promised myself I wouldn’t rant over this. “I’ve been waiting, waiting, waiting, and for what? It’s like I’m floating.” I hold up my hand and wave it out before us. “One-night stands. Failed relationships. It’s always the next woman. And it’s always the next colleague who gets the story I want or the column I’ve been hoping for. And I’m so tired of floating.”

  “You know, there doesn’t have to a be a next girl,” Jess states, keeping his eyes on me as I clamp my lips and admonish myself for saying too much. I should ask what he means, but I don’t.

  “Anyway, what about you? You say you’re happy here. You’re where you want to be. It must be a nice feeling.”

  Jess stares at me, taking a long moment to look at my face, but the gleam in his eyes is too intense, and eventually, I lower my gaze to the table. He clears his throat.

  “I’ve been offered another job.”

  My head pops up. “What?”

  “I’m not moving or anything. It’s your nana’s radio. Tom forced me to send in the schematics for a design patent. An old friend of our dad’s owns a restoration shop downstate and wants to talk to me about shipping antique electronics to me to fix. Ever see a show called The Repair Shop? He does that kind of thing.” I’ve never heard of the program, but I’ll be looking it up later this evening. “Anyway, it’s what Tom was buzzing about earlier this week when we were dancing on the street.”

  “And you need Nana’s radio to move ahead with this?”

  “I don’t want to ask.”

  “Could you make a lot of money?”

  Jess shrugs, leaning back in his seat. “One thing you gotta know about me, Emily, is I don’t care about money. I live with my mom, for God’s sake. I work two jobs because I like them. We didn’t want to give up our dad’s shop, and I help Tom out with QuickFix because that was his before me. None of it is about money.”

  The heat in his voice does something to me. A spark. A ripple. I’ve worked and worked and saved and saved, but I can’t say I’m doing what I’m doing because I like it anymore. It’s a job when I wanted a career. I wanted to make a name for myself, but it isn’t happening. Ten years have gone by, and I’m in the same place.

  “Must be nice,” I say.

  “It is nice. It could happen for you, too.” His brow inches upward. “If you could do anything, what would it be?”

  “Have a column like I want.”

  “Really?” He tips his head as if he doesn’t believe me, and the niggle of doubt makes me wonder. Do I still want that dream?

  Yes, of course, I argue with myself. It’s the only dream I’ve ever had.

  Is it really, Emily? The only dream?

  “I suppose every columnist wants to eventually write a book, but it takes years of experience and knowledge to write something that offers wisdom.”

  “And imparting wisdom would make your mark on the world.”

  “Well, maybe not the world,” I tease. “I don’t need world domination, only a little mark here or there. But yeah, making a difference would be nice.”

  “You’ve already made a difference here,” he says. He holds my gaze intently, and I’m about to ask him what he means when I think of Katie.

/>   “That’s not the same thing.” My voice softens.

  “Why isn’t it?”

  “Because . . .” I don’t know. I don’t have an answer for him. Or myself. Why isn’t helping his child enough? Perhaps because she isn’t mine, and I want what Jess has: a child I can call my own. I want to be a mother.

  Thankfully, I’m saved by the waiter who’s been waiting on Jess and me to finish so he can leave. Jess pays for our dinner and guides me back to his truck. We ride in silence to Nana’s place. Jess pulls into the driveway and pauses for a moment before he turns off the engine, and I realize he’s going to walk me to the door. Who does such a thing anymore? Most of my dates have dropped me at the curb outside my condo or better yet, sent me home in a taxi on my own.

  It’s nice to be walked to the front porch, but he doesn’t stop when I open the door. He follows me inside.

  “What are you doing?” I turn to face him as he closes the door behind us. He steps close to me, his chest brushing against mine, and he cups my cheeks with his hands.

  “I can’t spend the entire night, but right now, you’re going to lead me upstairs, and I’m going to make love to you.” His mouth covers mine before I can protest.

  “You’re so pushy,” I mumble against his tempting lips.

  “You have no idea how pushy I want to be with you.”

  Well, who can turn down that offer?

  Slowly, we climb the stairs. I lead the way, and Jess follows me. When we enter my room, I spin to face him, and his mouth tenderly connects to mine. We stand in the antiquated bedroom and kiss for several minutes before Jess grips my hips and guides me to the bed. Once I’m seated, he returns to kissing me. He pushes me back with his upper body, but he doesn’t climb over me. Not yet.

  His mouth leaves mine, travels down my neck, and stops at the swell of cleavage near the edge of my dress.

  “You’re so bright,” he whispers to me, palming my breast over my dress. “Everything you wear is colorful.” It’s said with wonder. Does he feel his world is dark?

  His hand releases my breast and works its way to the side of my waist, curving over my hip and then down to my thigh. Jess slowly tugs up the material, still braced by his other arm over me. His eyes follow the skirt of my dress rising, revealing more skin until it’s above my thighs. Jess presses off the mattress. Bending at the waist, he leans forward to dot kisses along my thigh while his hands cover my knees, spreading them apart. My legs dangle off the edge of the bed, and they tremble a bit in anticipation of where his hands might lead.