Chapter 14

Jake

Later that night I'm lying on my bed, with one hand behind my head and my VCR remote in the other, when Cruz calls. "Hey brother," he says when I answer the phone. "What's the word?"

"Well, I'm about to dive into a sausage and pepperoni pizza, watch Die Hard , and if luck is on my side, sleep long and hard until tomorrow. You?"

"Dude…why are you watching a Christmas movie in February?" he answers my question with his own.

"It's not a holiday movie," I sigh, and drop the remote to scratch the back of my head. I'm not having this argument with him again. "And it's March, in case you forgot."

"Well you got me there," he laughs. "I have no idea where the year is going. But you're wrong about the movie. It takes place on Christmas Eve and has Christmas music in it, therefore, it's a Christmas movie."

"Uh huh." I lay my head back and groan. I guess we are having this argument again. Cruz is the only one who thinks it's a holiday movie. I don't know where he got the idea. "The story doesn't center around Christmas. It would be the same movie if it took place in the summer."

"The hell it would," he quips.

I can't help but laugh back. "Explosives work in the summer, just as well as they do in winter, Cabron."

"Yeah, yeah," he ignores the point I make every time this argument comes up. "Where's Marcus?"

"Caught a flight to Seattle," I stifle a yawn. "I swear he won the lottery because all those last minute trips he's taken lately have got to be costing him a fortune."

With the mention of last minute trips, the memory of Jenica rushing up here last month slams into me. I may have given up on us going back to what we were, but that didn't mean I couldn't still miss her. I did. More than I was willing to admit.

"Why the roll call?" I ask, changing the subject. "Aren't you supposed to be having dessert?"

"I have a favor to ask."

"Sorry," I laugh. "I'm not driving all the way up there to bring you condoms. And if Marcus were here, he wouldn't either."

"Man," Cruz quips. "Fuck off. I don't need that."

"I don't know, Cabron. You may want to cover that shit. The road isn't kid friendly and something tells me Ells doesn't want to be a mom just yet."

The thought of kids crawling all over Cruz makes me smile. He will be a great father one day, but it's hard to think of him in dad mode at this point in his life.

"Ha," he lets out a short, dry laugh. "I don't need you to drive up here, the favor is for Ellery."

"Yeah?" Another yawn hits, this one slipping out. "What's that?"

The sound of rustling cuts off his response and a second later, her voice comes over the line. "Jake?"

"One and only," I reply. "What's going on?"

"I'm worried about Jenica."

I move the pizza box off my lap and sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "What's going on?"

"I haven't heard from her."

Welcome to the club , I can't help but think. "When was the last time you two talked?"

"Earlier in the week," she confirms. "Monday."

"That's not exactly a long time, Ells." I plant both feet on the ground and scrub a hand down my face, trying to ignore the way her worry has kindled my own. "Cops wouldn't even put out an APB for that."

"APB's are for criminals. And she always calls me back, Jake. Something is up."

Yeah, well she used to call me back too, and I had to get over that pretty quickly . "Maybe she's busy," I suggest. "She was talking about getting another job when she was up here. Maybe she found one. Balancing two jobs and going to classes has got to be—"

"She hasn't," Ellery cuts me off. "At least, not when we last spoke. That's why I'm worried."

I push up from the bed and shove my free hand under the arm I'm using to hold the phone. "Well, I don't know what you want me to do."

The line is quiet for a moment. "Will you go down there and check on her for me?" she asks timidly.

"What?" I laugh in disbelief. "Did you and Cruz get a little weed in the City and smoke a bowl? I'm not driving to Georgia, Ells."

"I don't want you to drive," she says with that drawl of hers that implies I'm being ridiculous. "I want you to fly."

"Fly!" I look up to the ceiling and blow out an amused breath. "Now I know you're high."

"I'm not high, Jake. It would be a quick trip. You could fly into Savannah, get a rental car, and be to her Nana's house in no time."

"Ellery…"

"Please Jake? I'd do it myself but Momma says I can't miss this meeting on Monday. She had to move mountains to get all of the suits in one room and she will have my hide if I ask her to reschedule."

I turn my head down from the ceiling, shaking it.

"I'll make all the arrangements," she continues. "All you have to do is get to the airport and the ticket will be under your name, and when you land, there will be a car waiting at the Alamo desk."

Despite the fact my mind is saying no, this is crazy, Jenica has made it perfectly clear she wants me to leave her alone, there is something in my gut that says I need to get down there and check on her.

"And what do I do when I get there and show up on her porch? Say, hey, you're crazy best friend flew me down here to make sure you're not dead?"

Ellery sucks in a breath and the line goes quiet.

"Shit, Ells, you know what I mean." I run a hand through my hair, and yank it, wanting to kick myself. I know better than to say that to her."I didn't mean…"

"It's fine," she says softly.

She sounds so sad and it makes my brotherly instinct kick in. "Fine, I'll go."

"Yeah?" she replies, voice lifting.

"Yeah," I sigh. "I'm sorry. You know I would never joke about—"

"I know," she cuts me off. "And I know you aren't going because of that. You worry about her too, just as I do."

I nod in silent confirmation. I do worry about her. Even if she doesn't give a shit about me anymore.

"I'll give you directions from the airport to Davenport," she continues. "It's fifteen minutes up the road from Cherry Cove."

"All right." I make my way over to my drawer and grab a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. "You owe me a pizza."

"You got it." She laughs. "Anything else?"

"I'll make a list and give it to you when you two get home."

She makes kissing noises into the phone as Cruz takes the phone back. "Sorry brother."

"Did you know what she wanted?"

"Guilty," he admits.

"Uh-huh," I roll my eyes.

"Sorry man, when you've got a girl in bed next to you that looks like my girl does, you shut your mouth and do whatever she wants."

With that, he wishes me safe travels, tells me he owes me as well, then hangs up, leaving me to get dressed.

After getting dressed, I grab a sweatshirt from the shelf in my closet and slide it down over my head. I don't pack a bag. I only grab my wallet and keys. It's just a quick trip to make sure Jenica is okay. With any luck, I will be back here in time to order another pizza by dinner time tomorrow and pick up where I left off.

***

Thanks to Ellery's directions, I made it to Davenport with little trouble. While the red eye she booked was canceled, the black Camaro she rented made up for the night I had to spend in the airport while waiting for the first flight out the next morning.

I loved fast cars. When I was little I had a poster of a Lamborghini above my bed that I used to dream about. A Camaro wasn't a Lambo, of course, but I opened that baby up and raced like I was Mario Andretti, slowing only while driving through Cherry Cove, and again when I hit Davenport's city limits.

As I drove through the town, I saw it was different than Cherry Cove. Slightly inland, it was picturesque with a city center that included a courthouse, church, and local storefronts, as well as a residential district with well-maintained Victorian homes, with rocking chairs on their porches and tree-lined streets. It was the kind of town you'd see on a postcard. Quiet, quaint, and quintessentially southern.

After passing a fresh fruit stand and a farm with a red barn with the words CHICKEN FEED painted on the roofline, I see a turn off with a weathered wooden gate flanked by two barrels, and my stomach flips. The turn off to Jenica's. I'm here.

Slowing down, I pull off the main road and make my way down the rock drive. I go slow, careful not to stir up too much dust, taking in the acreage on either side of me. Row after row of trees extend as far as the eye can see. I don't know what they are, but they look like they may be peach.

At the end of the drive I come to a charming white clapboard house with a wraparound porch, potted plants lining the stairs, and a windmill next to a giant magnolia tree. It's lived in, but clearly well-maintained by love and pride, and reminds me of my own childhood home. Jenica's here. I can see and feel hints of her everywhere, including the most obvious, her red Honda CRX.

After coming to a stop, I put the car in park, sitting there for a moment before turning off the engine. Checking my reflection in the rear view mirror, I run a hand through my hair and rub my eyes, before pushing open the door and getting out.

Making my way over to the front stairs, I place my foot on the first one hesitantly, take a deep breath, then continue until I am at the front door. Pulling the screen back, I knock on the door. It takes a few seconds, but finally I hear a voice on the other side.

"Got it, Nana!" Jenica calls out and my chest tightens. It feels like forever since I heard her voice and it's music to my ears.

I take a step back as the door opens slowly, and when our eyes meet she freezes.

"Jenica, darlin'," an elderly woman's voice calls from inside the house, "who is it?"

She swallows and fingers the necklace Ellery gave her nervously. "It's no one, Nana. Go back to your show."

She looks both confused and scared to see me, as she pushes the screen door open slowly and steps out onto the porch.She's wearing cutoff shorts, a Johnny Cash T-shirt, and her hair is pulled into a bun. With her face free of make-up, and a bit of fatigue in her eyes, she's hauntingly beautiful and I'm struck by the urge to hold her.

She takes a step toward me, boards creaking underfoot, and when she's close enough that I can breathe her in, the smell of aloe and Ivory fills my lungs, stirring the memory of our last night together.

"Hey Sparky," I smile, swallowing down the way seeing her again makes me feel.

"What are you doing here?" she asks skeptically.

Now that I'm here, all the words I should and want to say leave me. "I was in the area," I say instead. "Thought I'd stop by and say hi."

I hope it's the right response. Casual. Light. Judging by her frown, it's not. "Go home, Jake."

I wince, wishing she'd called me Hot Shot. "Why?"

"I don't need you fucking up my life," she replies tightly.

"Fucking up your life?" I repeat in disbelief. "Sparky, I'm not here to do anything but make sure you're okay."

"Okay?" She pulls the door closed behind her, and puts a hand on my chest, pushing me backward as the screen door slips from her hand and closes. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Hardball, huh? Well, all right, Sparky. If that's the way you want to play it. "Well, maybe she was worried about you," I fire back. "You haven't talked to your best friend in days. Kind of weird, don't you think?"

"Really?" She drops her hand and looks at me skeptically. "She asked you to come all the way down here for that?"

"Yeah, really."

"Why is it that I don't believe you?"

Damn, if her wit and defiance doesn't make my dick twitch. "I don't know," I cross my arms and shrug, ignoring how turned on I am. "But it's the truth. Call her and you'll see."

She chews the inside of her cheek and shifts from one foot to the other. "I don't know why she did that."

The tension in her shoulders starts to ease and I can see she believes me. "Well, she did, and I am here now. So maybe you can invite me in and offer me a glass of tea because it was a long trip."

"We're out of lemons," she smirks.

"Funny," I flash her one of my own. "I thought they served it sweet down here."

"Go home," she turns for the door and I place my hand on the frame, stopping her.

"What's going on, Sparky?" I close the space between us, pressing my chest against her back.

"Please." She draws in a shuddering breath. "Go back to Highland before you make things worse."

"Now see," I lean in closer, "what you just said is the reason I'm going to stay right where I am until you tell me what's going on."

She turns around slowly and when I drop my hand and our eyes meet, it feels like my heart is going to punch a hole right through my chest.

"We used to be able to talk about anything," I search her eyes, trying to understand the emotion that I see. "If I knew sex was going to change things between us I would have stayed in the friend zone."

"We?" she repeats.

"Yes, we. You and me. We were friends, before anything else, and we still are. No matter what happened between us I am always here for you. You know that."

"Jake…"

She starts to turn pull away and I grab the hand that's at her side. "Come on, Sparky. This isn't us. We don't do awkward."

Now that I'm here I can see something is wrong. The fatigue in her eyes is not from lack of sleep. She's carrying some kind of weight and it's not about what happened between us. It's something more.

I don't care what happened between us. Jenica is important to me, sex be damned, and I am not leaving until I know that she is okay.

"You are always with me," I reach for her chin and turn her head to me slowly. "No matter where you are. That's how I know something is wrong. I can feel it. So tell me what it is, please."

She takes a breath, shoulders rising then falling, then does something I don't expect. She doesn't tell me to go home again or go to hell. She turns and throws her arms around me and buries her head in my chest.

Without hesitation I wrap one arm around her waist and place my other hand on the back of her head, holding her close. Her breathing is ragged and she feels frail. The strong, fierce girl who can level the world with her tongue is holding onto me like she's been running a marathon and hasn't been able to stop until this very second.

We stand that way for what feels like forever, and then she looks up at me and my chest cracks. "What are you doing here, really?" she asks, eyes glistening.

Brushing a finger against her cheek, I swallow over the boulder size lump in my throat. "Ellery was worried about you."

"You came because Ellery was worried?"

"Oh, yeah," I grin. "I'm her errand boy, didn't you know?"

Her lip hitches and the hint of a smile stirs warmth in my chest. It's the first time I've seen it in weeks and it's like the sun after a storm. "She sent you down here?"

"Sure did," I nod. "Got me out of bed in the middle of the night."

"God that girl." She swipes a finger under one eye and then the other.

"She loves you," I shrug. "Can't blame her."

She looks at me, shaking her head again. "I can't believe you're here."

"Believe it."

"You drove?"

"I flew, then drove."

She looks over my shoulder and when she sees the Camaro, flicks her eyes back to me. "What time did you leave?"

"Last night."

"Last night?" Her brows shoot up. "Are you serious?"

"Got to the airport around midnight to take a red eye, and when that was cancelled, I caught the first flight out this morning."

"It's nearly three," she shakes her head. "You must be exhausted."

"It's been a long morning," I admit.

We stand there, looking at one another. There is so much I want to say, but don't. Right now, I just want to stay in this moment as long as I can.

"Come on," she steps back, every cell in my body reaching for hers as she pulls away. "Let's get you some tea."

"Will that be with lemons or sugar?" I can't help but ask.

She looks over her shoulder and smiles. "Mint."

"Mint?" I arch a brow. "Now that's different."

"It is," she agrees. "Did you expect otherwise?"

"Not at all," I can't help but smile. "Different has always been my favorite."

Reaching for the screen door, she pulls it open and when we step inside, the smell of fresh bread and spices greets me.

"Nana," Jenica clears her throat. "We have company."

An elderly woman sitting in a rocker starts to get up and I make my way over, holding out a hand. "Please, sit," I take her hand with a smile.

She eases back down and looks up at me, then over at Jenica."This is my friend Jake."

Still holding her grandma's hand, I smile. "It's lovely to meet you."

She smiles back and pats my hand. "If I knew we were having company, I'd have made a cobbler and put on some tea."

She's got Jenica's eyes. Same cheek bones, too. Only her hair is white, and something tells me it was dark once, just like her granddaughter's.

"Already on it," Jenica replies with a shake of her head. "Brewed some this morning."

"And the cobbler?" her grandma asks.

"I was just about to make the dough."

"Remember the butter has to be cold."

"Yes ma'am," Jenica laughs. "I remember." She flicks her eyes from me to her grandma. "Will you two be okay out here?"

"Yes, sugar," she waves Jenica away. "Go on and do your thing, we'll be fine."

Jenica looks at me as if she's not sure if she should stay or go, but when I nod and give her a smile, she nods back and turns on her heel and heads into the kitchen.

"So," her grandma says to me with a curious smile. "You're a friend of Jenica's?"

"Yes ma'am," I nod. "I live in Philadelphia, but I'm from Connecticut originally."

"A Yankee," she laughs. "Well, all be."

"Actually," I laugh, "that's my best friend. He wants to play for the Yankees. I want to play for the Mets."

"A ballplayer?" She arches her brow.

"Yeah," I nod, impressed. "You know baseball?"

"Mm-hmm," she smiles. "All our family does."

Her grandma reaches for the remote to turn down the volume on the TV. As she does, I take a moment to look around.

The living room is warm and inviting, with rustic furniture, a large, braided rug, and wood floors that run wall to wall, while thick wood beams run overhead, extending the length of the pitched ceiling. To my right is a large window which looks out the front of the house, while to my left is the large farm style kitchen, where Jenica stands with her back to us, rubbing her heel with the toe of her other foot.

"You must be tired," her grandma says as I turn my attention back to her and find her watching me with a curious expression. "Why don't you rest. Watch my show with me while Jenica makes that cobbler."

"Well, all right." I lean back and bring my leg up, resting my ankle on my knee. "What are you watching?"

"A recording of last week's Murder She Wrote . My girl and I watch it every Sunday but last week she fell asleep on me."

"Jessica Fletcher," I smile. "Now there's a smart lady."

"You like mysteries?" she smiles back.

"And ladies," I wink and she laughs. "My dad is a detective," I add. "My interest in the former comes with the territory."

"You don't say," she grins. "Well then, why don't we see who did it together?"

"Sounds good," I nod and she turns the volume back up on the TV.

As we watch the show Jenica's grandma shares her theory on who she thinks committed the crime. I agree but point out another potential suspect. When the commercial comes on, her grandma gets up to use the bathroom and I turn to look at Jenica again. This time, she's looking back at me with a soft smile on her face, and when our eyes meet, I feel something I haven't felt in weeks—peace.