19
D
on’t be silly, Jen. I don’t mind one bit.” Bryn patted Jenna’s hand, then went to the closet and pulled out her winter coat.
“Thanks, B. I owe you.” She watched Bryn, envious of the confidence—and a strange sense of peace—she seemed to have, even with everything that had happened. The tragedy—not just losing her husband, but the awful guilt she bore—had changed Bryn. And for the better. It was a mystery Jenna hadn’t had the courage to ask her about, but she was intrigued.
Bryn had not only helped her set up a job interview for that afternoon, she’d generously offered to let Jenna stay with her until the lease on her apartment was up at the end of January. It bought her a few weeks.
Jenna was relieved Bryn hadn’t asked about the source of her blowup with Clarissa. She was even more relieved she wouldn’t have to sleep in her car again tonight. That she’d done so last night was a secret she would carry to her grave.
Along with a skeleton far more profound.
She pushed away the thought.
Bryn buttoned her coat and reached for the door. “I’ll stay with Dad until late—and maybe go for coffee with Garrett afterward—so if you beat me home, just make yourself comfy.” She shot Jenna a knowing grin. “And have a great time on your date.”
“I will. But I’ve got laundry to do, so I won’t be too late.”
Bryn put a hand on her hip. “Listen, girlfriend, don’t you dare come home early from a date with that gorgeous man to do
laundry
! Do you hear me?”
Jenna grinned. “Yes,
mother
.” But the teasing tasted sour on her tongue. The term felt like an insult, though she knew Bryn wouldn’t see it that way.
“Have fun. I mean it. Just enjoy yourself.”
“And you just get on to work and don’t worry about me.” She waved Bryn off with a smile. “Oh, hey, where’s your ironing board?”
“Laundry
and
ironing? What’s gotten into you?”
“I don’t have anything ready to wear to my interview this afternoon.”
“Oh. In that case, the iron’s in the broom closet and the ironing board is folded up beside the dryer.” She opened the closet and showed her where things were, then headed out the door.
Jenna waited until she was sure Bryn was gone before going to get a few clothes and her laptop from her car. If she brought everything in at once, Bryn would know she’d essentially moved out of the Morgans’ for good.
She did a load of laundry and ironed several outfits and hung them in the closet in the guest room where she was staying. What did you wear to a job interview to be a grocery checker? Surely they didn’t expect anything too fancy. Any other time she would have asked Clarissa’s advice.
A wave of sadness came over her. Those days were over. And sometimes—like today—she really missed Zach’s mom.
She finally settled on a pair of black pants and a silk shirt. She could
dress it up with a jacket for the interview and change into a more casual jacket before Lucas picked her up tonight.
She wasn’t sure which event she was more nervous about.
L
ucas glared at the computer screen, forcing himself to cool off, to start thinking rationally. Sparky sat beside him, looking at him with soft eyes.
He patted the dog’s head and sighed. On his way home from the firehouse, a Hanover Falls cop had pulled him over. He had it coming. He’d been driving like a maniac, as if he could somehow exact revenge on Peter Brennan from behind the wheel of his truck.
He’d been lucky to get off with a warning—for speeding. It could have been a big fat ticket for reckless driving. He was sobered by the grace the officer had granted him and felt guilty because he knew the leniency had everything to do with Lucas Vermontez having been a “victim” of the Grove Street fire.
It wasn’t fair to blame Chief Brennan for his decision. The man was only looking out for his able-bodied men. Lucas
knew
that. He’d expected exactly the response he got—his rational self had anyway. Pop would have made the same decision. But that didn’t make the rejection any easier.
Rubbing Sparky’s silky ears, he ran through the browser’s history on his computer, checking out the websites of training facilities for accelerant detection dogs again. Lucky watched warily from the bed.
Maybe he could find someone else to take Sparky and do the training with him. Maybe one of the new guys at the station would be willing to take him on. But they were shorthanded as it was. Could they afford to give someone six to twelve weeks off—the length of most of the programs he’d researched?
He pressed his lips into a tight line. Already the thought of letting
Sparky go was like a knife to his gut. He’d grown attached to the crazy pooch. And not just the dog, but the idea of training him to be a working dog. Something about that notion had taken hold of him and it wouldn’t let go. Jenna had said Zach talked about training a dog for the station. Maybe this was one small way he could honor his friend.
He found a training school in Oklahoma. He’d have to make a trip there to have Sparky—and himself—evaluated as candidates. But that was only six hours away, and this facility seemed to have somewhat less rigorous requirements for trainers, with the idea that the eventual handler—at the station—would receive training once the dog was ready.
Tossing up a prayer, he filled out their application online, trying to be honest about his limitations while still answering in a way that wouldn’t disqualify him before he ever got a hearing.
He needed two character references, so he put down Captain Peter Brennan’s name, and on a whim, listed Andrea Morley, the fire investigator who’d handled the Grove Street fire. Andi had questioned him several times in the weeks after the fire. She’d been thoughtful and sensitive at a time when he was grieving Pop’s death, and not sure he wanted to go on living.
Several times since, he’d thought about calling the investigator to thank her. He’d never gotten around to it. Now he had a good excuse to go see her, and thank her.
He shook his head, pushing away thoughts of Zach and the fact that he had a date with Zach’s wife tonight.
If he hurried, he’d have time to get to Springfield and back before it was time to pick Jenna up. He’d talk to Andi Morley and maybe have time to stop by the bookstore and look for some books on dog training.
He checked his watch. On second thought, maybe Jenna would like to ride along. He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and rang her.
“Oh, I wish I could,” she said, after he explained his plans. “But guess what?”
“You found an apartment?”
“Close … first things first. I found a job! Well, maybe … at least I have an interview in an hour and they sounded hopeful on the phone.”
“Hey, that’s great. Where?”
“Hanson’s. The grocery store.”
“Sure, I know it. Good for you.”
“Bryn worked there for a while before she got back on at the library, so she got me an interview. I’d just be a checker. I don’t really have the experience to do … well, much of anything.”
“I doubt that. You could probably do anything you put your mind to.”
“Not without a degree. There’s not much out there unless—”
“Well, I’m happy for you, Jen.” He cut her off before she could put herself down again. “When would you start? I mean, if you get this job? Have you told the Morgans yet?”
“I’m not sure. And no … I haven’t talked to Clarissa since I left there the other night.”
“You don’t think they’re worried about you? Zach’s parents?”
“Oh, I guarantee Clarissa has done some calling around and at least knows I’m still alive. She has my number.”
Lucas could almost hear her indifferent shrug over the phone lines.
“Besides,” she said, “if I call her, I’m afraid I’ll say something I’d regret later.”
He hated the fact that she was at odds with Zach’s parents. Sure, they were upper-crust and a little hard-line about the whole thing with Bryn, but they’d lost their only son in that fire. Few would blame them for wanting to keep their distance from Bryn.
But Jenna was all the family they had left. For their sake, he hoped she wasn’t distancing herself from them for good.
He rubbed his free hand through his tangled mop of curls. “So what hours would you be working at Hanson’s?” he said, choosing to change the subject before he talked himself out of their date.
“I don’t know yet. Probably evenings for a while. But they don’t stay
open very late, so it shouldn’t be too bad. I’m nervous, though. Would you believe the last time I went to a job interview was in high school?”
“You’re kidding!”
“Zach—well,
Clarissa,
mostly—never wanted me to work. Didn’t think it was befitting someone of my social stature. Ha!”
“She said that?”
“Not in so many words. It’s what she meant, though. I guess I’ll show her.” She gave a dry laugh.
Lucas had always seen Jenna as sweet and optimistic. He wasn’t crazy about the side of her he was seeing now. The bitterness in her voice wasn’t becoming.
“Well,” he said, trying to cover his pause, “I guess … I’d better get going—and let you get to your interview.”
“Oh. It’s not until two, but—” There was silence on her end for a few long seconds. “Thanks for calling,” she said finally. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out for me to go with you to Springfield.”
“Sure. Good luck with the interview. I’ll still see you around seven, right?” He almost wished she would back out on their date. Especially if she was going to be so moody.
“Seven is good. I’ll see you then. Unless they hire me on the spot and want me to start tonight.” Her laughter fell flat.
J
enna buttoned her jacket against the cold and followed Lucas to his pickup, glad she’d decided to change into jeans after her interview, since he wore Levi’s and a plaid button-down shirt. He looked great.
He opened the door for her and waited for her to buckle in before coming around to crawl behind the wheel.
“So how did the interview go?” he asked, once they were on the road.
“Okay, I think. I didn’t say anything stupid at least.” She didn’t tell him that she’d almost started crying when the manager who interviewed
her asked where she lived. The emotions had taken her completely by surprise. Until that moment she hadn’t allowed herself to think about losing her house, or about Bill and Clarissa’s rejection. Much as she hated to admit it, she missed them. But it was horrible timing for an emotional breakdown.
“Well, that’s always good.” Lucas seemed strangely cool toward her tonight.
She shrugged. “I’m supposed to hear something by Monday.”
“Did they say how many other applicants they were interviewing?”
She shook her head. “No, but there was a woman waiting for an interview when I came out of his office.”
“I’ll pray you get the job.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t put a lot of stock in prayer, but it touched her to think of him praying for her.
“So you’re staying at Bryn’s tonight?”
“For a few weeks, actually.”
“Really? You’re not going back to the Morgans’?”
She shook her head but didn’t dare look at him. “Not in the foreseeable future.”
He turned off of Main Street, heading west, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. “It’s too bad you had a falling-out with Zach’s folks.”
She stared at him, wondering where that had come from. “It
is
too bad. There was a time I thought Clarissa was my best friend, which is a little sad when you think about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“How many women do you know who are best friends with their mother-in-law?”
“A few. I hope my wife—my future wife—will be friends with my mother.”
“Friends is one thing. Best friends is another. Besides, it’s more than that. Clarissa has …
had
this strange power over me, or maybe I should say I let her—” She stopped. Why was she dumping this on him? Still,
she couldn’t resist adding, “I just hope you understand that I didn’t have a choice about moving out. Staying at the Morgans’ would have meant ending my friendship with Bryn. I’m sorry, but that would have felt like I was betraying her.”