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“Oh, my.” Ina stepped back from her groggy tenant. “I’m going to have to get a bar of soap for that mouth of yours.”
“What’s going on? Is the house on fire?” Eric’s chest rose and fell as if he had just run a five-hundred-meter dash.
“She’s on the phone.”
“Who?”
“Your nice young lady. I told her you were out on the porch. Now get your ass downstairs before she hangs up.”
Scrubbing at his hair and then rubbing bleary eyes, Eric rooted around the end of the bed for his jeans.
“Oh for Heaven’s sake, don’t worry about your damned pants. I was married for forty-six years. Whatever you’ve got down there isn’t going to shock me. Get to the damned phone.”
In only briefs, Eric trotted down to the telephone and spoke, his voice still lowered to the baritone of someone just waking. “Hullo.”
“Oh…were you sleeping? I’m sorry.”
“No…No. I was um…” Hovering close, Ina nudged his arm and pointed to her front door. “Out on the porch.”
“I need to ask you for a favor.”
He was at once alert and attentive. “Sure, name it, anything you need, Jen.”
“It’s actually a favor for my daughter.”
Eric listened as Jenna stumbled over her words. They staggered into the phone’s receiver like spurts of water from a crimped hose. “I would never ask, but…there…there’s this girl at school with concert tickets. She’s taking a bunch of Janie’s classmates but Janie wasn’t included and…and she…she’s so disappointed and um…”
Eric interrupted her stammering. “Do you want me to get concert tickets for you?”
“Well, I thought…that…you know, because of who you are, you’d be able to.” Her voice faded away.
Eric took a gladdened breath.Finally. There was finally something he was able to do for her. He could get front row tickets to anything, anytime.Victory.
Then shame swiped at his moment of satisfaction. He traveled back to a foggy night in San Francisco where he’d waited outside of a concert hall forher.He’d stood among her fans, a nonentity without enough influence to get a seat on a city bus. What he had brought upon her hit home once again. She had been reduced to groveling for a favor, something for her child. He felt like the biggest bastard alive.
“Sure, whatever you want. I’ll call my manager. He can get tickets to anything.”
“It’s Kylie Harte. Her concerts sell out as soon as the box office opens. If it’s possible, I’d like four tickets. Oh and…and I insist on paying for them.”
Eric rubbed a hand over his eyes and didn’t immediately answer. To Jenna, his silence must have yawned into eternity.
“I’ve imposed. Forget I called.”
“No, Jen, wait. Getting the tickets isn’t a problem. I can get backstage passes too if you want. I just have to tell you something first.” Eric stalled and took another long breath. “Alan Stark is Harte’s manager.”
Chapter Seventeen
Anne Mills held her daughter’s hands to spin the child in a merry circle. Riley returned her mother’s enthusiasm with a lopsided smile, then turned to hug Janie. “I can’t believe it! You’re asking me to go.Me?”
Riley Mills was clearly more excited by being considered a first choice than attending the concert. The tiny girl with the slight limp and crooked mouth; the child who on occasion dropped things and finished last at field day races, was often included in things as an afterthought.
Anne silently mouthed the words “thank you” to Jenna while wiping a tear from her eye. In the scant few weeks since the women became reacquainted, Anne proved to be a good friend. She was the one person living in Cromline who knew about Jenna’s past life, and it was a blessing to have someone to confide in.
Clearing her throat, she sent the girls upstairs to play. “I can’t thank you enough for this. I’ve never seen Riley so happy. I owe you one.”
Jenna waved away the statement. “You don’t owe me anything. Janie really likes Riley. I had nothing to do with it.”
“Yes, but you got the tickets.” Anne’s tone was more sly than curious.
