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They walked up the steps to the back porch, and Jackson pulled open the door to the mudroom. Callie grabbed a towel and wiped Peanut Butter’s paws. She stood up and stretched, trying to hide a yawn.
Jackson smiled. “I think you should go on up and relax. I can get this little guy his dinner.”
“That would be great,” Callie said. “I think a hot bath is calling my name tonight. See you tomorrow for pottery?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Jackson said as his eyes locked with hers. In the moment of silence, the heat rising between them was undeniable. He stepped forward, closing the space between their bodies. “Callie, I….” he whispered as she tipped her face up toward his. Just then, Peanut Butter yipped and began pawing the leg of his jeans.
The moment was broken. Callie giggled. “I’d say he’s ready to eat,” she said. As Jackson retrieved a bag of dog kibble from the pantry and filled Peanut Butter’s dish, Callie turned to leave, pausing in the doorway. She looked back at him as the dog began happily munching his food. “Goodnight, Jackson,” she smiled. “And, me too.” Then she was gone.
Chapter Ten
CALLIE
Humming along to the music playing on the oldies station, Callie mixed the ingredients for a Mexican brunch casserole and chili-egg puffs for the morning’s breakfast meal. Aunt Fran stood at the counter slicing fruit for the apricot, cherry, and macaroon fruit salad Callie had pointed out in her recipe book.
Aunt Fran sighed contentedly. “It feels good to have you here, Callie,” she said. “You and Peanut Butter, that is.” She looked over at the puppy, who wagged his tail as he happily chewed his toy.
“Are you going to keep him, then?” Callie asked.
“You mean, are we going to keep him?” returned Aunt Fran.
Callie sighed. “You know I’m only here for a few more weeks,” she said. “Then I have to go home and get back to work.”
“Thisisworking, dear,” her aunt reminded her. “And yes, since no one has claimed this ball of adorable fur, he’ll just have to be Harbor Inn’s new mascot.”
Callie smiled. “By the way, I’m wondering if you wouldn’t mind having some company for church this Sunday? It’s been a while since I’ve been and I think it would be good for me. I mentioned it to Jackson Thorne, and he asked if he could join us while he’s in town as he’s a regular church-goer back in Tampa.”
Aunt Fran beamed. “Of course, the more, the merrier. I was hoping you’d ask to come sometime. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to feel pressured in any way, but I’ve been praying for you to renew your relationship with the Lord.”
Callie set her spatula down and hugged her aunt tightly. “I’ve missed you,” she said. Aunt Fran pulled away and looked at her, reaching up to smooth an unruly curl off her forehead. “And I, you,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “You’re like the daughter we never had. I only wish I could have been there for you more while you were growing up.”
“You and Uncle David had the inn here,” Callie said, “and besides, I think I still have some growing up to do.”
Aunt Fran smiled tenderly. “Don’t we all,” she said. “It’s a never-ending process, and I firmly believe it’s what life’s all about. There are spiritual lessons around every corner.”
“So true,” murmured Callie. They finished the last preparations for the meal and set the buffet. After finishing breakfast, Callie excused herself to return to her suite. She knew her aunt and uncle had long ago placed Bibles in the drawers of the bedside tables in each room, and she felt inclined to see if there was one still there in her room. Sure enough, she found a worn leather Bible in the wooden drawer. She climbed on top of the bed and began to read.
˜*˜
The pottery studio was housed behind the shop in a large, cavernous building filled with aisles upon aisles of bowls, plates, cups, and figurines of all varieties. Callie looked forward to browsing the wares following the class. Each person was stationed at their own pottery wheel with sacks of clay, sponges, and small jars of water. Thelma, completely inappropriately dressed for the occasion in a bright red pantsuit, held a very bored-looking Liza Minnelli in the crook of her arm. Sarah Jane stood next to her, holding Thelma’s tote bag. The instructor was a wiry man with gray hair and a grizzly beard. His face held evidence of years spent too long in the sun, and his arms were strong and sinewed. “Welcome to Pete’s Pottery Barn, kids,” he said, revealing a gold-capped tooth. “I’m Pete, and I come from a long line of potters. We’re going to practice throwing clay today and getting the hang of using the wheel to make your own bowl. Don’t worry now if it doesn’t come out perfect. Like anything else, it takes practice and coordination. As you’ll see, the real beauty lies in the imperfections because pottery isn’t uniform. Each piece is a little bit different from the others. Now, I hope everyone likes getting messy because this sure ain’t gonna be a beauty contest.” The old man guffawed, along with the men in the room, while the women smiled politely beneath furrowed brows.
Callie’s station was next to Jackson’s. The pretty brunette, Deborah–Callie hadn’t been able to keep herself from looking up the woman’s name in herLookbook–had sat down at the station on Jackson’s opposite side.
The group began following Pete’s instructions as they tried pressing the foot pedals to spin their wheels. Soon, the room was filled with squeals and laughter as people sank their fingers into mounds of damp clay.
“Jackson, I can’t get mine centered right,” Deborah said. “Could you help me just a teensy bit?”
“Sure,” Jackson said, getting up to assist.
Callie glanced over to see Deborah flash him a dimpled smile before narrowing her eyes at Callie.
When Jackson had gotten Deborah’s clay centered, he came back and grabbed his water dish and dirty sponge. “I’m going to go rinse these out at the sink,” he said. “Thanks for inviting me to your aunt’s church on Sunday,” he said to Callie.
Once he was out of earshot, Deborah turned to face her. “You asked him to church?” she said. “Kind of boring, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think God is boring at all,” Callie said.
“Well, I’m sure Jackson is just too polite to turn you down because I know he’s interested in me,” Deborah said as she gave her bowl a firm push, promptly causing one side to cave in.
