AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ed paused again, and I tried not to flinch under his scrutiny.
“I offered to give her some money to get her over the hump,” he continued, “but she wouldn’t take it. Thinks standing on her own two feet means she can’t have any help. She’s stubborn like my Abigail was and pretty too, like her.” His eyes were a little distant for a moment.
“I know that very well, sir, uh, Ed. I wanted to help her too, but she wouldn’t discuss it. And now she’s gone, and she won’t answer my calls or texts.”
“What were you planning to do here today?” He lifted his chin.
“Tell her I love her. Beg her to stay.”
His face relaxed but only slightly. “That’s a good start.”
“I want her to move in with me and let me help her get her dream off the ground. Ask her to help me launch mine. She wants to be here cooking good food for people who appreciate it. She doesn’t want to go back to Nashville and cook guitar-shaped wedding cakes. But she won’t let me help her. And now, I don’t even know where she is.” I was babbling, but fuck, I was desperate.
The salty sailor smiled, the brown creases rolling up around his eyes like waves. “I do.”
“CanI get you anything before takeoff, Mr. Bakker?”
“No, thank you, Ryan. I’ll probably have something once we’re in the air.”
“All right, I’ll tell the pilot. Buckle up. We’ll be taking off soon.”
I should eat or at least have a drink to settle my nerves.
Jo’s apartment building consisted of eight one-bedroom places. Six of them were occupied by seniors living alone, one was Jo, and one was a single mom. With that in mind, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that they had an emergency contact list for each resident. After Jo’s neighbor, Ed, gave me her parents’ address from that list, I called the private transportation company I used in the past and scheduled a plane from Bellingham. I had to get to her.
44
JO
The interview went well.Jessica, the mom, was great. They had two kids, one with a nut allergy, but other than that, they were a straightforward good people family. Jessica told me that since their kids were school age, she didn’t travel with her husband anymore. She was an accountant for a hospital near the Vanderbilt campus. Real people with actual jobs married to fame. That’s Nashville for you.
It was currently a four-month gig, with the possibility for something more. The pay was great, not quite Lucas’s rates, but still great. Lucas. My heart lurched.
This was an excellent opportunity, and I should be thrilled. I wasn’t.
The drive home was too much alone time in slow Saturday afternoon traffic. Something from the interview had bothered me, but I couldn’t figure it out.
I followed my nose into the kitchen. “Hey, Mama, that smells great. What’s for dinner?”
“Hey, Sammy Jo, chicken a la king over rice and sliced tomatoes from the garden.” She pushed her red-framed glasses up her nose.
“Sounds good.” Chicken a la king was my favorite dish growing up, and you could say what you wanted about the South, but the tomatoes down here were friggin’ awesome. The oppressive heat produced Better Boy tomatoes, okra, and sweet Silver Queen corn so good it brought tears to my eyes.
“Your sisters are coming for dinner. Everyone wants to see you,” Mom said.
I smiled. I loved seeing my family, but it always felt like I was outside looking in on a montage of my sisters, their hardworking husbands, and bouncing babies.
With any luck, after dinner, the littles would settle to sleep in a back bedroom, and we’d do what Daddy calledbonding. Me and Mom and my sisters sitting around the table and talking about everything over dessert. We’d done it for years, always following the cleanup from a big meal when we could linger. Mom told Dad we were solving the world’s problems. Dad said his money was on us. Smart man. Living in a house with four Southern women and no other boys, he’d learned a thing or two over the years.
“How was the interview?” Mom asked as she measured the rice and water into a pan.
“Good. I think she’ll make me an offer.”
“Wonderful honey. I knew it. When would you start? Tell me everything. Would you live there or with your dad and me?”
“Not sure yet. Do I have time for a shower before dinner? I’m not used to this sticky heat, and I’m covered in sweat.”
“Sure, we’re eatin’ late tonight. Billy’s closing the garage at seven-thirty, so we’ll eat around eight. You gonna want sweet or unsweet tea?”
