Back to You (6 page)

Jesse was completely obsessed with an old collection of vintage toy planes; some were in terrible shape, but some appeared decent – a hodge-podge of old tin bi-planes and fighter jets.

John rescued a cool looking tin fighter jet buried in the pile of junk, examined it and glanced at the tag attached. “Check out this one, Jesse. It’s Japanese, from the 1960s,” he told Jesse, handing him the jet. “It’s in really good shape”.

“Wow.” Jesse’s eyes were as wide as saucers – more animated than Sophie had seen him them in a long time. “It’s only twenty bucks,” he told his mother.

“Do you still have some allowance?”

“Not much,” he admitted, looking down at the two planes in his hands. “I won’t be able to afford both the fighter jet and this,” he concluded, his eyes pointing to the model kit in his other hand.

“Can I see that?” John asked. “Wow,” he said looking at the box. “…an F-4C Phantom II fighter plane model kit. You’ve got to have this,” he said. He was like a little kid too. What had gotten into them?

“I’ll buy it for you,” he insisted. “It’s only ten dollars,” he told Jesse who shot him a gigantic grin.

“No John... you can’t do that,” Sophie chimed in.

“But I want to,” he pressed. “It would make me happy,” he said plainly. “It’s kind of for me too… we’ll all do it together.”

Well, she couldn’t argue with that. Could she? This meant John would be hanging out with Jesse, and he would
be
around
. But she had told herself she would stay away from him. Should she let this happen? Probably not. But she couldn’t take this away from Jesse – he would be heartbroken.

“Consider it a birthday present,” John added.

“My birthday’s not for another like… six… or eight months,” Jesse laughed.

“Consider it a very early birthday present then.”

Sophie brought in quite a few of the smaller pieces. John and Jesse carried the larger purchases to the back shed.

“Oh my… goodness,” Gloria shrilled. “Did you buy the whole store?”

“Almost,” Sophie laughed. “It was amazing, Mom,” she went on. “They had such great deals,” she told her mother, setting down a box of trinkets.

“This place is going to look amazing when we’re done,” she promised, “and with this property,” she went on, “you’re going to make a killing.”

She was doing all this for her mother – to get her the best price for a property she had cherished all her life. She knew it pained her to let it go – there were so many memories here. Her mother had spent over thirty-five years in this home. Not only was it Sophie’s childhood home, but her father’s spirit was still here, within its walls. The least Sophie could do was to help her mother get a really good price to lessen the blow.

Admittedly, she was also doing this for her own enjoyment. She hadn’t been so alive in a long time – the project took her mind off her troubles.

John left with a quick goodbye, off to other renovations and projects. It seemed he was always on the go. Sophie wondered where he found all his energy.

Gloria gave up on her newspaper crossword and gave her daughter a mischievous smile. “You two had a good time?” she asked, clearly digging for dirt.

Sophie smiled, remembering the conversation she and John had shared at the barn.

“It was nice,” Sophie said. “I think Jessie really enjoyed it too,” she added, looking over at her son who was already on his laptop.

“You two seem to be getting along quite well,” Gloria added. “He’s good for you.”

Sophie sighed. “I don’t know if he’s good for me, or bad for me.”

“He’s good, Sophie. You really need a distraction just about now,” Gloria pointed out. “You never really told me what happened at work.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sophie told her mother. “It frustrates me too much.”

“You said they messed you over…” Gloria pushed.

“Yes…” Sophie relented. “They basically accused me of leaking our editorial concepts to a rival magazine,” she explained. “Basically because I was good friends with the art director there… they pinned it on me.”

“You didn’t?”

“Of course, I didn’t,” Sophie scoffed, shocked that her mother would even doubt her.

“I mean… without meaning to,” Gloria clarified. “You could have said something without realizing.”

“I didn’t. I’m not sure what happened.”

“Well, it’s all in the past now,” Gloria said cheerfully, patting her daughter’s shoulder. Sometimes her mother’s laisser-faire attitude irked Sophie, and sometimes it charmed her.

“How’s your book going?” Gloria asked, clearly trying to change the subject. “I see you’ve been messing about in the kitchen.”

“It’s amazing… it’s been a lot of fun,” Sophie gushed, all smiles. It really had been. She had never felt so much passion for a project. Between the book, the renovations and her time with Jesse and her mother, Sophie had been truly fulfilled.

And then… there was also John.

She hadn’t planned on the additional distraction of John. Despite his ability to really get under her skin with his mockery and wisecracks – he kind of added fun to her life – and to Jesse’s too.

That night, Sophie sat at the desk in the living room, working on her book. The framed picture on the desk was as distracting as ever. And she almost wanted to turn it over; a little girl in a red and white jumper, sitting on the porch with her father, sipping a cola –colors saturated, edges torn.

When she was in this house, memories of her father filled her thoughts.

She didn’t want to forget all the memories – she wanted to hold on to all the good ones. It was just that last one which kept playing over and over in her mind, like an old movie she kept rewinding and viewing, despite the fact that she desperately wanted to forget…

Sophie played with the hem of her way-too-short skirt – her father had made it clear he disapproved, telling her the witch costume was way too provocative for a sixteen year-old. But it was Halloween after all, and if there was a day to get away with murder, this was it.

And besides, she had been in a rebelling mood lately, and putting on the revealing costume despite her parents’ protests had been worth it – she was getting the desired reactions – boys’ heads turning everywhere. Even John had noticed, his eyes almost popping out of his head at the sight of her.

She laughed at the sight of John walking towards her with two glasses of punch – he kind of looked good as a vampire – gangly, spiky crazy hair, and he already had the widow’s peak for it.

“Here, I got you a fruit punch,” he said, handing her the plastic cup. “You enjoy it… it’s real blood,” he told her in his gravest voice.

She laughed at him – he was such a kid.

“Thank you, John,” she started. “I don’t mean to be rude but I can’t be seen with a freshman right now,” she said matter-of-factly. “So scram, all right?”

She completely stripped the smile from his face, and her heart sank a little. “I’m sorry, John,” she said softly. “You know you’re my friend but no one’s going to ask me to dance if you keep hanging around.”

He turned on his heel; shoulders slumped and made his way to his geeky freshman friends.

As Sophie had expected, a boy came up to her and asked her to dance. And she had a blast dancing with her best friend Shelby and a few cute seniors they had managed to snag.

But as the dance came to a close, Sophie couldn’t get rid of that pesky feeling – guilt. She felt bad about the way she had treated John, and she decided she would make amends.

“John,” she said softly as she walked towards him.

“Having fun?” he asked, his eyes still full of hurt.

“I am,” she said. “Listen John… this senior invited us to his house for a party,” she gushed. “You want to come?”

He hesitated before saying, “But I thought your dad was coming to pick us up at eleven.”

“I’ll call him. No problem.” She was sure her father would let her stay out just an extra hour – it was Halloween, after all. And John’s mother – she couldn’t have cared less – John was lucky that way.

But her father had protested, and she had fought him, screaming into the payphone. He had finally relented and told her he would pick her up at the boy’s place at midnight.

In that one hour, John and Sophie had managed to down more than one alcoholic beverage, and they were giddy, sitting at the back of Sophie’s dad’s Volkswagen.

“Just for the record,” her father almost growled. “I am
not
happy with you right now, Sophie.”

“Oh dad… chill a little,” she told him between giggles. “Why can’t you be more like John’s Mom… she doesn’t give a rat’s rear.”

And those were the last words she ever said to her father.

A split second later, a red pick-up truck hit them head on.

Chapter 7

JESSE and John sat at the old Formica kitchen table, working on the fighter jet model kit they had bought at the antique shop. Jesse fiddled with the stickers.

“Let’s do those last,” John told him. “Let’s follow the instructions.”

“Who knew you colored inside the lines,” Sophie teased, bringing over glasses of iced tea.

He smiled. “I don’t often.” He worked meticulously, his large hands surprisingly delicate with the fragile pieces. He seemed good with his hands, she thought to herself, sipping her glass of iced tea. There was her mind again… in the gutter. She shot up and shook her head a little.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Jesse said, perusing the directions and handing him the pieces.

“I’ve done a lot of these,” John told him.  “…with my daughter.”

“Paige… right?” Sophie asked, curious.

He nodded, still focused on his work.

“When do we get to meet her? She’s about Jesse’s age right?” she asked, eager.

“She’s a year older,” he clarified, “…and a real tomboy.”

He still hadn’t answered her question. “So when will we meet her?” She wanted to know.

He shifted in his seat a little. He seemed suddenly a little uncomfortable. “I don’t get to see her much,” he said plainly.

Sophie regretted prying. “I’m sorry. I… I didn’t…”

“It’s fine,” he told her. “It’s just that she’s with her mother most of the time. I get her every other weekend.”

“Oh…” Sophie said, looking down at her glass of iced tea. She couldn’t imagine seeing Jesse only every other weekend.

After a long moment of silence, she finally spoke. “Um… what happened? Why did you split up?” She couldn’t believe she was being so nosy. It was like an alien force had taken over her body and… just wanted to know.

“Uh…” John said, finally looking up, studying her curious gaze. “Jennie,” he started, looking over at Jesse, who wasn’t paying attention, “she was,” he went on, “…very social,” he said in a whisper.

“Oh… I see,” Sophie said, not really understanding.

“She was not a big fan of monogamy,” he clarified.

“Oh… and you are, I assume,” she ventured awkwardly.

He smiled. “Yes, of course,” he said bluntly.

“Me too,” she told him. “A big fan of it,” she quickly added. God… was she making an idiot of herself.

He smiled an even bigger smile. “Great, we’re all fans of it,” he said laughing. “What about you Jesse?” he asked.

“I have no idea what you guys are talking about,” Jesse said plainly.

“Anyone for sandwiches?” Sophie asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

Sophie worked feverishly on one of her favorite kid gourmet sandwich recipes. She had been delighting her mother and Jesse with her delicious treats. She also prepared a salad to accompany the sandwiches.

“Here you go,” she almost sang as she sat the plates down on the table, next to all the model pieces.

“I’m sorry, we should have cleared the table,” John apologized, doing his best to gather the pieces.

“It’s fine,” she told him. “We just need to move them over a little,” she said as she helped him tidy the table. Her hand brushed against his – a little bolt of electricity shot through her. They smiled thinly at each other.

The chemistry between them was utterly ridiculous.

“These look interesting,” he said with a hint of apprehension, looking down at the sandwiches.

“It’s thinly sliced black ham on focaccia bread, with apricot mostarda,” she explained.

“Uh… what?” he laughed. “I’m kinda used to plain old salami sandwiches.”

“You’ll like it,” she pressed.

“Uh… I don’t know.”

“Geez, you’re such a meat and potatoes guy,” she teased. “Just try it.”

He took a hesitant bite. Chewed and tasted. She sat impatiently waiting for his verdict. He smiled and didn’t say a thing.

“Well?” she asked, anxious.

He took another bite and closed his eyes.

“Well? Do you like it?” she asked in a desperate tone.

He smiled and took another bite.

Oh…  for crying out loud.
“Do you like it or not?” she finally shouted.

“Um… well it’s definitely interesting…” he started, smiling and taking another bite.

She rolled her eyes. This had to be a personal record for eye rolling. She had rolled them more this week than she had in the last previous twenty years. He was driving her insane – literally.

“Yes… I like it,” he finally offered with a smile. “It’s great,” he added taking another bite.

His words delighted her. They did. And she wondered why his opinion mattered so much.

“So… to answer your question,” he said between bites. “Paige is coming next weekend.”

“We’ll get to meet her?” she asked, excited.

“I can bring her over if that’s all right,” he suggested, downing a gulp of iced tea.

“We would love that,” she cheered. “Wouldn’t we, Jesse?”

Jesse shrugged. “I guess.”

“I’m hoping to see a bit more of her this summer,” John said.

“Oh that’s good,” Sophie smiled. “Are you trying to get her every weekend?”

“Well, Jennie’s seeing someone,” he started. “And when she’s seeing someone, I get to see a lot more of Paige”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Sophie asked.

“Paige cramps her style, I guess,” he elaborated. “But yes, it’s good for me. I get to see a lot more of her. I love having her.”

“Well… let’s hope Jennie gets married soon,” Sophie joked. And they both laughed.

Sophie hadn’t realized John’s family life had been so tumultuous. His life had also been chaotic when he was younger; his mother moving from man to man without a thought for the well-being of her children. He seemed like he had married a woman who was exactly like his own mother. She wouldn’t dare suggest this, but she thought it. His life had been so difficult and she wished it hadn’t been – he was such a good person – slightly obnoxious and an occasional pain in the rear, but good nevertheless.

Her marriage in contrast, had been such a positive experience, and then… Marcus was cruelly snatched away in an instant.

Yes, life definitely was not fair.

***

The renovations were going well. They had completed the roof and the interior painting – hues of sky blue, moss green and indigo. But they had yet to install the white bead board paneling throughout the house – meant to give the whole cottage a very seaside feel – the new owners would get the full Maine experience.

John had been busy working on the renovations with his two main guys – Jimmy and Craig. They seemed like good guys, but they always smiled and chuckled around Sophie. And she knew it probably had something to do with John.

Occasionally, Jesse would join the group and John would teach him a few tricks of the trade. Jesse seemed to really enjoy it – it seemed he had the mind for building things.

Sophie had tried to stay out of their way as much possible, going to town, hanging out with Jesse and her mother, and working on her book. This was for the best, she told herself – it was best if she stayed away from John, for everyone’s sake.

But there were still times when she just couldn’t avoid him.

John came over early to meet with Sophie regarding kitchen renovations and flooring options. He was clearly a morning person – setting up meetings early so he could get an early start on the work day. Sophie got the impression that his work days were long. She didn’t dare argue about the time of the meetings, lest appearing like a lady of leisure, which she kind of was at the moment. 

“How much do you work every day?” she asked, setting down his cup of coffee. “You seem to work a lot.”

“I do. I typically start at six in the morning, and usually work till six at night, sometimes until seven.”

“Wow, I feel lazy next to you.”

He smiled. “You enjoy your time off,” he told her. “You don’t become Editor-in-chief of a national magazine by being lazy, I’m sure,” he pointed out, surprising her.

She smiled shyly, “I guess not.”  The attention was making her uncomfortable. “Uh… so,” she said a little nervously, “this is what I had in mind,” she told him as she showed him a few pictures and sketches of her final vision for the kitchen.

“I see,” he said, looking at her intently, his steely blue eyes fixing her. It was a little unnerving.

“Here, I like the antique cabinet doors,” she told him, pointing at the photo. “And I like the rustic wooden countertop here,” she went on, fully aware of the fact that he was looking at her more than at the photos.

“Uh… over here…” she continued, pointing to a new photo. “I like the wrought iron lamps on the ceiling.”

He was still fixed on her.

“We could probably get those pretty cheap…or something similar, right?”

He nodded with a smile, not saying a word, and not taking his eyes off her.

“Uh… John,” she hesitated to say. “Stop looking at me,” she whispered. “You’re supposed to look at these photos… not at me.”

“What?” he asked, acting innocent. “I’m just trying to focus on what you’re saying,” he explained, “trying to take it all in.”

“Well, are you?” She wanted to know.

“I’m trying,” he stressed, smiling.

“Uh... why don’t you take some notes,” she suggested. “I’d prefer that.”

He kept looking at her, and made no effort to grab a pen.

Oh… for crying out loud.

“Focus,” she ordered. “This is important to me.”

He smiled. “This isn’t rocket science, Snow,” he said plainly. “Listen… this is what we’re going to do,” he told her, resting his hand on hers. She loved the warmth of it. “I know this flooring warehouse where I get a good discount,” he explained. “We’ll go there and pick out a nice rustic pine floor. We’ll go to the hardware store to pick up some cabinets and fixtures, tiles and hardware,” he went on. “We’ll keep the apron sink. I can clean it up. I’ll make and finish the countertop myself,” he told her, “with a nice dark stain, like you want.”

She sat speechless. He
had
been paying attention.

“Sound good?” he asked.

“Yes. Perfect.”

“Let’s make this happen. I don’t have all day,” he told her with a wide grin. “I’m a busy man.”

As they made their way out, he gave her a list of supplies to bring: a notebook with measurements, a measuring tape, pencils, and a digital camera.

“You’re good to have around with that big purse of yours,” he joked.

“It’s not a purse, it’s a tote,” she corrected him.

He smiled. “We’ll probably be a few hours, maybe four hours tops. I don’t like to waste time.”

A few hours… could they handle that? The way he was looking at her – they were most likely going to end up in a compromising situation – in the back of the flooring warehouse, hidden behind a stack of floor planks, or at the hardware store, tucked in one those pretend display kitchens.

The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. “Let’s go,” she said with a playful smile.

John had been on the money – the trip had taken exactly four hours.

They had gone to the flooring warehouse where they picked up wide-planked rustic flooring. He had gotten a huge discount because they were the last of a line they weren’t carrying anymore, and a few pieces were scuffed up a little, which actually suited the whole rustic vibe Sophie was going for. John used his discount for additional savings – they were doing the floors for a steal. Sophie realized she was lucky to have John.

They went to the local hardware store to pick out cabinets – mid-priced, rustic, cream colored, as well as chrome hardware, a vintage looking faucet, and backsplash mosaic tiles in indigos and whites.

It all went so well. But unfortunately, John had been a perfect gentleman – all business, efficient as can be. She hadn’t taken too long to make up her mind selecting the supplies – she had known exactly what she had in mind, and luckily the stores had everything she was looking for.

There had been no secret rendez-vous at the back of the warehouse, or in a display kitchen – just lots of perusing, note taking, measuring, and ordering.

She was actually exhausted, and stretched back comfortably on the leather seat of John’s truck.

“We’ll go back in a week or so for the lighting,” he told her. “There’s no way we could have gotten everything done in one trip,” he pointed out. “We were really productive, though,” he said with a proud smile.

“Yes… productive,” Sophie muttered under her breath, a little miffed there had not been even one iota of flirting.

The sound of a new song on John’s car speakers suddenly caught her attention – the rhythmic beat of the music was almost hypnotic. She swayed her head from side to side and soon found herself almost in a trance. It was the story of a man and a woman –weren’t all songs about a man and a woman really, she thought to herself.