Forever After (29 page)

He ripped open the envelope and extracted the single sheet it held.

Dear Mr. Vermontez,

Re: your application for our Accelerant Detection Canine Training Program.

Your résumé has been reviewed by the committee and placed on file with our Tulsa facility. As noted on the application, we typically place our trainees up to one year in advance. However, we have had a cancellation for the upcoming February-March training session in Tulsa, and your application is among those selected to fill the vacancy.

Providing both handler and canine still meet eligibility, can supply all necessary documents, medical/veterinary releases, etc., and handler/canine team can be available to report to the Tulsa facility by 8 a.m., Monday, February 9, for initial evaluation, you will be considered for inclusion in this session.

He felt like he was on a roller coaster.

“Is it good news?” Ma asked.

“Maybe. There’s an opening in that training program in Tulsa.”

“Tulsa?”

“I told you about it, Ma. The accelerant detection training.” Why did she think he’d been spending every spare hour working with Sparky, especially since Gina had gone back to school?

She frowned. “I don’t remember anything about it being in Tulsa.”

Searching for the phone number on the letterhead, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket. “I need to go call them before they close for the day.” Without giving his mother a chance to grill him, he headed down the hall to his room.

The letter said he was
among
those selected. So it wasn’t a done deal. Given his circumstances, he was probably at the bottom of their list. But it was worth a try.

He went back to his room, gently pushed Lucky off his desk, and settled into the chair. Dialing the number on the letterhead, he rehearsed how he’d describe his physical challenges. It struck him that his recent injury might actually be to his advantage since it camouflaged his injuries from the fire and appeared more temporary than his actual disability.

But life had been cruel to him too many times over the past year. He wouldn’t let himself get too worked up yet. But even as that thought fired the synapses of his brain, a new flood of hope rushed through his veins.

J
enna adjusted the straps of the smock apron and straightened the Welcome to Hanson’s pin on her left breast pocket. She’d been checking for three hours straight and her feet were killing her.

Things usually quieted down after six o’clock on Fridays, but she was the only checker up front tonight. She heard several women chattering and laughing back in the floral department. She hadn’t seen them come in, but she was pretty sure they were the only customers in the store.

Maybe once they left she could take her break a little early, at least get off her feet for a minute. An idea had been brewing since she’d driven away from Luc this afternoon, and she was eager to get to a computer.

The feminine voices grew louder, and she turned to see a group of four women headed toward her. They were dressed to the nines and sporting enough bling among them to open a jewelry store.

Her breath caught. It was Vincette Gregory and Mallory Thames—and three other women from Clarissa’s book club group. Vincette and Mallory were probably in their mid-thirties—closer to Jenna’s age than Clarissa’s. She’d never quite felt she fit in with Clarissa’s social circle. Still, she’d considered these women friends at one time. Of course, she hadn’t heard from any of them, from
any
of the Morgans’ friends, since she’d been staying at Bryn’s.

She’d always wondered how Clarissa had explained her absence from Hanover Falls’ version of high society. Clarissa could be vindictive, but not if it reflected badly on the Morgans. And explaining why her daughter-in-law had been reduced to working as a checker at Hanson’s definitely qualified.

Jenna finger-combed her hair and straightened the charm on her necklace, feeling like a seventh-grade nerd facing the cheerleading squad.

“Hi, Vincette. Hey, Mallory. You guys look nice. Out on the town tonight?”

“Oh, my gosh! Jenna, is that you?” Vincette turned to her posse. “Girls, look, it’s Jenna!”

They all clustered around, offering friendly greetings, but she got the impression that some of them were feigning surprise at seeing her here.

“I haven’t seen you for ages, Jen,” Mallory gushed. “We’ll have to get together sometime. I heard you sold your house. Are you still in the Falls?”

“I’m … staying with a friend—while I look for a place.”

“Oh, listen.” Mallory’s eyes went wide. “The Jimersons
just
listed
their house. It would be perfect for you, and you’d love Laurie’s colors. You wouldn’t have to change a thing.”

Jenna had been to a Christmas party at the Jimersons’ house two years earlier. It was a beautiful home. And so far out of her price range it boggled the mind. “That’s … a little more than I’m looking for,” she said.

She took a package of burp pads from the cart and scanned them, along with an assortment of baby items and a stork gift bag. “You must be going to a baby shower.”

“Cinda Larson’s.” Mallory’s smiled turned sheepish, and Jenna knew it was just dawning on her that Jenna hadn’t been invited.

Cinda was another one from the book club group. Clarissa would be at the shower, too, no doubt.

Jenna finished ringing up their gift items and miscellaneous gum and snacks they’d collected at the checkout.

She somehow managed to keep her smile—and her dignity—pasted on until they were gone. But she wanted to curl up in a corner and weep.

Grow up, Morgan.
These women had been as friendly as ever to her. It wasn’t their fault she’d spent the afternoon looking at a trailer house to rent.

Listening to her, Jenna wondered if she would ever know this kind of happiness.

33

J
enna arrived back at the apartment that night just as Bryn pulled into the parking lot. Jenna jumped out of the car and took an armload of groceries from her friend. “You’re off early, aren’t you?”

“Myrna let me leave after my break. Things were pretty dead in library land tonight.”

“Lucky you.” Jenna unloaded groceries onto the counter, and they worked together to put them away.

“Well, unfortunately she’s not paying me to take off.”

“Oh … Ouch. Hey, I got paid today. I really would like to write you a check for the rent.” There went her savings. But it was only fair.

But Bryn’s face fell and she held up a hand. “Oh, Jen, I wasn’t hinting. Honest. I’ve told you before I don’t want you paying. Shoot, I should be paying you for all the cleaning and laundry you do around here.” She gave a lopsided grin. “Besides, you need to save your money. D-Day is upon us. I got the lease papers today. We’ve got exactly two weeks and one day to be out of here.”

She blinked. “Wow. Are you ready … for the wedding, I mean?”

Bryn’s eyes lit. “Honey, I’ve
been
ready.” She giggled, but all at once her eyes brimmed with tears. “Oh, Jen, I can hardly wait.”

Jenna reached across a bulky package of paper towels to give her friend a quick hug. “I’m so happy for you. And you know if there’s anything I can do to help get ready, you just say the word. My mornings are free almost every day.”

“There’s really not much left to do. I’m telling you, I can’t recommend this small-wedding-no-reception plan highly enough.”

“Straight to the honeymoon, huh?” Jenna teased.

“Got that right.”

They laughed and finished putting groceries away with Bryn chattering about the plans she and Garrett had made for a delayed honeymoon this summer when he was off from teaching. Listening to her, Jenna wondered if she would ever know this kind of happiness.

She was happy for her friend, but she was relieved when Bryn headed for her room and she could do the same.

She changed into her pajamas and brought her laptop to the bed. Sitting cross-legged on top of the quilt, she opened a browser and started exploring the possibility of selling some of her belongings. Judging by the prices people were getting for furniture and electronics and even clothing on craigslist and eBay, she had a gold mine sitting in the Morgans’ garage.

She needed to get her stuff out of storage there. Surprisingly, in the six weeks since she’d left, they hadn’t hounded her about retrieving her things. But if she could raise enough money selling some of her belongings, she’d be in good shape for getting an apartment, maybe even paying Bill and Clarissa a little. She’d felt as if she’d taken advantage of them, but under the circumstances she hadn’t had much choice. Still, she didn’t want to be beholden to them in any way. She would honor Zach’s parents and have as much of a relationship with them as they would allow, but she also needed to cut the ties she could.

She would have to get photographs of everything she wanted to sell
and then find a place to store it—a place where people could come and inspect things and where they could pick up any items that were too big to ship.

She’d check about renting a storage unit, and maybe Lucas would let her use his pickup to move things. She felt bad about the way they’d left things this afternoon. She knew he wasn’t too happy with her about refusing to rent the trailer. Or maybe it was because she wouldn’t talk to him about why.

But how could she explain it when it didn’t make sense even to her? The trailer really wasn’t bad. With decent furniture and her eye for decorating she could make it presentable—inside anyway. Short of camouflage, there wasn’t much that could disguise the ugly turquoise and white outside.

She put the idea out of her mind. If she sold all her nice furniture, it was a moot point anyway.

She logged onto her bank’s website and checked her balances again. Even if she could find an apartment as cheap as that trailer, it was going to stretch her thin to pay the rent every month, never mind utilities and groceries and gas for her car. How long would she have to live from hand to mouth like this?
Forever.
At the rate she was going, that was the only realistic answer.

She was starting to see how a woman could marry a man for his money.

The thought was like a knife to her heart. How could she have had such a casual thought when marrying a man for his money was exactly what she had done with Zach?

Yes, she’d been young and she’d been pregnant, but she hadn’t been ignorant about the family she was marrying into. About the things the Morgan name had to offer. She hadn’t figured on Zach dying. Or on his parents disowning her if she didn’t conform to their wishes.

She stretched out on her belly on the bed and started making a list of things she had to sell.

On a whim she grabbed her cell phone off the nightstand and dialed Lucas.

“Hey.” His cheery reply made her wonder if she’d misread him this afternoon.

“Hi. You sound like you’re in a good mood.”

“I am.”

“Any special reason why?”

“Maybe. I’m … not really ready to say anything about it yet.”

“Oh? Well, now you have me curious.” Was he just giving her a taste of her own medicine?

But he didn’t sound angry at her. “I’ll tell you in due time. It’s no big secret or anything, but I don’t want to say anything till I know for sure.”

Now she was really curious. But she didn’t dare push him.

“So what’s up with you?” he asked.

“I have a big favor to ask.”

“Okay …”

She told him about her plan to sell her stuff online. “Would you mind loaning me your truck? Maybe this weekend? You could have my car in exchange.”

“How about I come and help?”

“You’re still on crutches. I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Well, I won’t be much help, but I can carry the lighter stuff. I’ll come and keep you company at least.”

“I’d like that.”

“I can order you around and tell you what you’re doing wrong.”

“
That
I wouldn’t like.” But she smiled. The thought of having him there made the whole ordeal seem far more palatable. “I’ll let you know after I’ve talked to Bill and Clarissa and made sure I can get a storage unit. How does Sunday afternoon sound? I’m off work then.”

“Sure. Just let me know what time.”

“Thanks. And Luc? Thanks for offering to go with me this afternoon. I’m sorry I acted like a brat.”

“You
can
be a brat,” he said.

She didn’t hear the laughter in his voice that she expected with a comment like that. “You almost sound like you meant that.”

“Well, I kind of did.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. You
can
be a brat, but it wasn’t my place to point it out.”

“And just whose place do you think it was to point it out?” He still sounded dead serious, and she didn’t know whether to be angry or hurt—or if this was just his sorry attempt at humor.

“That’s why I said something. Because I don’t think anyone else
would
point it out. Except maybe the Morgans—and you probably wouldn’t listen to them.”