Ready to Wed (15 page)

Sylvia leaned forward with interest. “Ah, tell me more.”

“I received a letter from Justin on Wednesday.”

“Justin, as in your ex-husband-the-jerk Justin.”

“Oh, Sylvia, he’s not really a jerk. I think we were both just a little mixed up and misguided. Really, I’ve put all that behind me. I don’t think ill of him. I just don’t wish to see him.”

“See him?” Sylvia’s head cocked to one side. “Is there a chance of that?”

Jane explained his brief letter, followed up by the phone call.

“Oh my,” said Sylvia. “What a position to put you in.”

“I guess …” Jane broke off a piece of scone and examined it. Fluffy, light, yet rich and buttery and, oh, the scent—scrumptious. She took a bite. As Belle would say, it was heavenly.

“Why do you think he’s coming, Jane?”

“That’s the $64,000 question.”

“He didn’t give any clues in his letter?”

“No. But it sounded urgent. He mentioned the cross-country
road trip that he’s been wanting to make since he turned fifty, which was a few years ago.” “Is he having health problems?”

“You know, that’s exactly what Alice asked, and I’m beginning to think it’s a very good question.” She leaned back in the stiff metal chair and mulled over this idea. What if Justin was seriously ill? How would she feel to learn that, say, he was dying? What if this road trip was his last big hurrah and he felt the need to reconnect with his former wife? Naturally, she would be kind and understanding, not to mention terribly sad. After all, he wasn’t a monster. She had loved him once. But, on the other hand, what if he was perfectly fine and healthy?

“Feeling conflicted?”

Jane nodded. “Exactly.”

“I understand. You love a person and prepare to spend your entire life together, and then everything changes. You have to build a new life and you try to put that person out of your mind, but sometimes you still wonder how it might have been.”

“But I’m happy here, Sylvia,” protested Jane. “I love my life with my sisters at the inn. I know I was in a slump recently, but that had to do with the weather.”

“You’re sure?”

Jane shrugged. “I think I’m sure.”

“So, you have no problem with Justin making this unexpected visit?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Jane grimaced. “When I heard Louise booked him a room, I threatened to leave home for the weekend.”

“Louise booked him a room?” Sylvia looked shocked.

“Well, it wasn’t her fault. He caught her off guard, and I hadn’t told her he was coming.” Jane frowned. “But you know that’s like him. He works people sometimes. I went to a counselor once, and he said Justin was passive-aggressive. I’ve never been certain just what that’s supposed to mean.”

“Ooh
, do I sniff a trace of bitterness?”

Jane made a face at her friend. “No, not really. I’ve just been remembering old stuff. Stuff that’s best forgotten. It’s funny how you can forgive someone, or at least you think you have, but then a reminder intrudes and you remember something that happened long ago, and it’s like you have to do the whole forgiving thing all over again.”

“Seventy times seven?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Have you thought about the possibility that Justin might regret losing you, Jane?”

“I’ve tried not to.”

“But you know it’s possible, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t seem likely, Sylvia.”

“What would you do if that was the case?” Sylvia leaned forward, her eyes wide.

“I don’t know. To be honest, I feel pretty conflicted just thinking about it, which is why I have tried to block it out. I mean I’m aware that we made vows.”

“Have you told Kenneth about Justin coming?”

“No.”

“Will you?”

“I don’t know. I’m not really sure why I should trouble him.”

“Because he’s your friend? Because he’s your pastor? Because he has a lot of wisdom about this sort of thing?”

Jane chuckled. “He’s also got a lot on his hands with Belle Bannister. Maybe I should leave the poor man alone.”

“Belle is chasing after our good pastor?”

“She did admit to me that he was at the top of her list. I foolishly invited him to breakfast the first morning of Belle’s stay. I think she thought that was a sign.”

“You mean as if God had dropped him from the heavens?”

“Something like that.”

“Oh dear.”

“Do you need anything else, girls?” asked Clarissa Cottrell, the Good Apple’s owner. She stood by their table, rubbing her elbow as if it hurt.

“Clarissa, is your arthritis bothering you?” asked Jane.

“It’s been troubling me something fierce,” admitted the older woman. “I’m just hoping that this weather change will improve things some.” She adjusted her hairnet over her gray bun as she looked down at the table.

“These scones are killer,” said Sylvia.

“Killer?” she frowned.

“Meaning really, really good,” translated Jane. “They are superb.”

Clarissa smiled. “Why, thank you.” She paused, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t mean to interrupt your conversation, girls,” she said, “but could I ask you for advice, Jane?”

“Me?” asked Jane. “Sure.”

Clarissa pulled a chair from another table and sat down next to them. “It’s that Belle Bannister.”

Jane suppressed a groan. “Yes?”

“Lloyd brought her in here yesterday.”

“Yes?”

“She expressed an interest in a wedding cake.”

“I guess that doesn’t surprise me.”

“So, she really is getting married?”

“Well, Clarissa, she’s booked the inn and the church and ordered the flowers and—”

“And she wants me to make her wedding dress,” injected Sylvia, “and her bridesmaids’ dresses too.”

Clarissa nodded with a curious expression. “So, this is for real then?”

“For real?” queried Jane.

“For real as in should I go ahead and plan to make her wedding cake?”

“I think as long as Belle orders and pays for a wedding cake and you have time and want to make it, then you can go ahead and do it.”

Clarissa leaned forward with a puzzled expression. “But is it true there’s no fiancé yet?”

Jane nodded soberly.

Clarissa looked from Jane to Sylvia and back to Jane again. “Rather odd, don’t you think?”

“Time will tell,” said Jane, knowing full well that she was quoting Belle, and it wasn’t the first time she’d done so.

Chapter Twelve

A
s Jane and Sylvia strolled back to the inn, Jane noticed Ethel’s good friend Clara Horn walking Daisy, her miniature potbellied pig. Clara was about half a block away and slowly making her way toward them. As Clara recognized them, she waved and smiled, moving a little faster as if to catch them before they crossed the street. She was tugging on the leash attached to Daisy, urging the hefty pig to hurry. No matter how many times Jane saw this elderly woman with her pig, the sight always made her smile. Clara not only treated Daisy like a baby, she dressed her like a baby as well. Today, Daisy sported a pale yellow sweater with buttons shaped like daisies down the back. It really was a sight to see, and Jane couldn’t help chuckling.

“Hello, girls,” said Clara breathlessly when they finally met.

They both greeted Clara and Daisy.

“Clara, those buttons look wonderful on that sweater,” said Sylvia.

“Oh yes. I was so glad you could order them for me.
Daisy is so hard on her clothes. I just don’t know how she lost three of the original ones.”

“Well, there’s hardly anything one can’t find using the Internet,” said Sylvia.

“Yes, well you are so clever about those things, dear,” gushed Clara. “Oh, Jane, I’m so glad that I’ve bumped into you. It’s simply providential.”

“And why is that?” asked Jane as she reached down to scratch Daisy behind the ear. The pig grunted in appreciation, then flopped down on the sidewalk as if finished with her walk.

“I just had a phone call from my favorite niece, Janet, and it seems that she and her son Calvin who just got home from the Middle East, want to come to Acorn Hill for Memorial Day weekend. Apparently Calvin has fond memories of visiting here when he was a boy, and it was on his list of things to do when he was released from the service.”

“That’s nice.” But Jane still wasn’t quite sure how this news pertained to her. Of course, she also knew that this chatty woman sometimes took a bit of time to get to her point.

“Well, as you know, my house is too small for both Janet and Calvin to stay with me, and since Calvin has been so loyally serving our country these past three years, I thought it would be a nice treat if I put him up at the inn.”

“Oh.” Jane nodded.

“So, I was so happy to run into you just now. Would you please check to see if you have a room available for Friday through Monday?”

“Wouldn’t it be simpler if you called Louise and asked her yourself?” asked Jane. “She’s the one who takes care of reservations.”

“Oh my.” Clara waved her hands as if she were caught in a flurry. “I would do that, Jane. But I am just in a dither. I have so much to do now, and I don’t want to lose out on a room, and it’s a holiday weekend. By the way, I’m having a barbecue after the Memorial Day ceremony and naturally, you’re all invited. Tell your sisters to plan on it,” she told Jane. “And right now, I’m on my way to see Lloyd Tynan. I just got the most marvelous idea. It occurred to me as I walked past the cemetery that my grandnephew Calvin would be a perfect candidate to raise the flag at the Memorial Day service. Don’t you think so too?”

“That’s a lovely idea, Clara.”

“And anyway, dear, I would so appreciate it if you could take care of that little detail for me with Louise. I have so much to do right now, I hardly know where to begin.”

Jane smiled. “I’ll be happy to check with Louise and have her call you to confirm.”

“Oh, thank you.” Clara looked down at the reclining pig and frowned. “Come on, Daisy, up and at ’em.” But the pig just
looked at her from one half-shut eye and grunted sleepily. “Come on, Daisy,” said Clara more firmly. “There is much to be done, girl.”

“Nice seeing you, Clara,” said Sylvia. They both stifled giggles as they walked away, glancing back from time to time to see Clara shaking her finger, then tugging on Daisy’s leash as she loudly urged her willful pet to get up. Just as Sylvia and Jane were about to return to help Clara, the pig finally lurched up from the sidewalk.

“Can’t say that I blame Daisy,” said Jane as they turned onto Chapel Road. “I wouldn’t mind taking a nap in the sun myself.”

“This weather really is divine,” said Sylvia. “I think we probably appreciate it even more because it’s been so late in coming.”

“Now it’s feeling as if we went straight from winter to summer,” said Jane. “That’s not going to be too good for my flowers. All that cold and wet and now hot sun. I hope they don’t get sunburned faces today.”

“Maybe you can make them little sunbonnets,” teased Sylvia as they approached the inn.

“Maybe put up a sun umbrella,” said Jane in all seriousness.

“Looks like guests on the front porch,” observed Sylvia.

“Yes, it’s a full house all weekend.” Jane glanced to the
porch to see a couple of men and Belle. “Looks like Belle is entertaining the twins.”

“Twins?”

“Yes.” Jane nudged Sylvia toward the back entrance. “Let’s not disturb them. According to Belle, they are two available bachelors who just happen to be passing through town.”

“How does anyone happen to pass through this town?” asked Sylvia.

“Well, I did hear Louise mention that a previous guest had referred the Johnsons to us.”

“Maybe Belle will find her man right here at the inn,” said Sylvia as they paused by the back door. Then she glanced at her watch. “Oh, I better head back to town. It’s about time to close shop, and I promised Justine I’d be back in time to go to the bank.”

“Thanks for the outing,” said Jane. “And for listening.”

“Don’t you worry about Justin,” said Sylvia softly. “Before you know it, he’ll have come and gone, and life will be back to normal.”

Jane nodded. “Yes, I’m sure you’re right.” But as she went into the house, she wasn’t sure that she was really so sure. Jane pushed thoughts of Justin away as she began getting out things for dinner. She’d decided that she and her sisters might enjoy a spring quiche tonight. And she’d make a couple of spares while she was at it, to use for breakfast tomorrow morning.

“Jane,” said Alice, coming into the kitchen, “anything I can help you with?”

“That’d be great,” said Jane. “I was about to start dinner.” She handed Alice an apron, and soon Alice was grating Swiss cheese, and Jane was rolling out pie crusts. They worked together in a congenial quiet, Jane giving out instructions and Alice following them perfectly. Jane always felt that if she ever wanted to open a restaurant on her own, which she had absolutely no intention of doing anytime soon, she would have to kidnap Alice and employ her as a prep cook.

“Belle and the twins seem to have hit it off,” said Alice as she set a bowl of finely chopped onions within Jane’s reach.

“Really? Have you met these twins yet?”

Alice chuckled as she began washing the mushrooms. “They’re real characters, Jane. Ron and Don Johnson from Bronson.”