The Best of Times: A Dicken's Inn Novel (12 page)

Chas glanced at her watch and was startled. “Oh, I need to cook dinner!”

“Is it an emergency?” he asked when she jumped to her feet and moved toward the kitchen.

“There are guests eating here this evening, so yes. An anniversary party; three couples. And no, you can’t help . . . except for helping with Granny, if you don’t mind.” She turned around to find him following her and took both his hands into hers, squeezing them tightly. “Thank you, Jackson . . . for the card . . . and the conversation, and just . . . everything.”

“It’s a pleasure, Chas,” he said and resisted the urge to kiss her. “I’ll look out for Granny. You let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I’ll just bring you some dinner along with hers, if that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay. Maybe I can talk her into watching
A Tale of Two Cities
. . . since I’m reading it again.”

Chas smiled. “Get her to show you her favorite mug.”

“Oh, she already has.”

She smiled again and hurried off to the kitchen.

Chas remained busy throughout the evening, but Jackson enjoyed his time with Granny. They
did
watch a movie version of the Dickens classic, which took the entire evening since it was long. Chas brought in two trays with food. Jackson took them and told her he’d see to the details.

“Thank you,” she said and kissed Granny’s cheek. Then she kissed Jackson’s cheek as well.

“That’s progress,” Granny said.

“I’ll never wash my face again.”

“If you start to smell bad, she probably won’t want to kiss you.”

“Good point,” he said and helped situate her dinner on the little table that he moved closer to her chair.

They watched the movie while they ate, then Granny asked if he could help her to the bathroom. “I can take care of everything once I get there,” she said. “I promise not to embarrass you. I can just get there a lot faster with some help.”

“It’s not a problem” he said. “And remember, I’ve been in the Marines. It would take a lot to embarrass me.”

“If you find me dead one of these days, you won’t be too shocked, then.”

“Not shocked, perhaps. But I’ll probably cry.”

“Don’t waste too many tears on me, young man. I’ve had a good life. Yours is just getting started.”

While Granny was in the bathroom, Jackson pondered her words.
Just getting started?
It felt mostly over and basically pointless—or at least it had until he’d met Chas. But he was older than she was, and sometimes he felt just plain old. He chuckled at the thought of how Granny would respond to such a comment. She was nearly fifty years his senior. When she was his age, Chas hadn’t yet been born, and Granny had given a lifetime to raising her. Maybe he
was
just getting started. He’d like to think so.

After Granny was settled back into her chair, they finished the movie, but Granny dozed off toward the end, and he had to elbow her to remind her to watch the best part. “Come on,” he said, “you can’t miss Sydney facing off the guillotine.”

“No, I wouldn’t want to miss that,” she said somewhat seriously. “It’s a very Christian story, isn’t it.”

“Is it? I’d never really thought about it that way.”

“There’s a lot of things you should think about, young man,” she said. “Since you’re reading it again, take notice of what a Christian story it is. I believe Charles was very purposeful with the way he filled it with Christian metaphors.”

“Such as?”

She looked at him as if he didn’t have a brain in his head, but her expression made him chuckle. “One man giving his life for another, with the only motive being love and sacrifice.”

“Okay, I can see that,” he said. “I’ve just never been very . . .”

“What?”

“Religious.”

“Neither have I, but that doesn’t mean we’re not Christians.”

“How exactly would you define being Christian?” he asked.

“Believing in Christ, living in a way that coincides with what He taught, which is simple: to be kind to other people; have integrity. All the good things we can be in this world came from His example.” She tightened her gaze on him. “So are you or aren’t you?”

“What?”

“A Christian?”

“I . . . um . . .”

“You’ve never really thought about it?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Well, maybe you should. Charles was a Christian; still is, I’m sure. It’s evident all through his books what his beliefs were. That gives us something in common. You do celebrate Christmas, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“And you do know
why
we celebrate Christmas?”

“I do.”

“That’s something, then,” Granny said.

“Is Chas a Christian?” Jackson asked.

“More than most people,” she said as if she’d already given the matter a great deal of thought. “She not only believes it on Sundays, she lives it every hour of every day.”

“So she does,” he said quietly.

Granny fell asleep, and Jackson found Chas still busy in the kitchen. When she refused to let him help her wash dishes, he went up to his room, had a drink and read, watching for telltale evidence that Charles Dickens was a Christian. He fell asleep with the book in his lap and woke in the middle of the night. Once he was in bed, he thought of his conversations with Chas and couldn’t wait to see her again. He slept again and woke to daylight. When he was ready to leave the room, he found a note that had been slid under his door. The piece of paper folded in half was stationery from the inn. On it was written in Chas’s handwriting,
I had to leave early and won’t be back until very late, so I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good day. Chas. P.S. Your anniversary gift is in the dining room behind the coffee maker. It has your name on it. You can’t miss it.

Jackson smiled and read it all the way through three times before he set it aside and hurried downstairs to see what she had left for him. He was disappointed to think of not seeing her today, and wondered where she might have gone. But the evidence that she’d been thinking of him helped immensely. Just behind the coffee maker was a large white mug. He picked it up to see that someone had written his name on it in permanent black marker. In Chas’s elegant hand it said,
Agent Jackson T. Leeds.
He imagined it on his desk back at the office and smiled, but he wasn’t sure of the point. Then he turned it around and laughed out loud to see that it was just like Granny’s favorite mug. He glanced around to make sure he was alone and that no one had heard his outburst. Then he just had to say it aloud. “Mostly, it was the worst of times.” Oh, the perspective it put on having a bad day once in a while!

Jackson left the mug there, certain no one else would use it when it really
did
have his name on it. After his run and a shower, Polly served him a lovely breakfast. Then he went into town to look around. Anaconda was a quaint place with a lot of character, and he liked the look and feel of it. He wished that he’d thought to ask Polly where Chas had gone. He thought, however, that he probably shouldn’t appear too nosy; but when he returned and Polly was in the office, his curiosity was far stronger than his concern about looking nosy.

“She’s gone to Idaho Falls,” Polly said, keeping her attention on her paperwork.

“Idaho Falls?” he repeated as if she’d said Afghanistan. “Isn’t that an awfully long drive?”

“Four hours each way,” she reported.

“Why?” he asked too much like an FBI agent. “Does she have a friend there, or—”

“It’s a religious thing,” Polly said, finally looking up. “I don’t understand it. I just know it means a lot to her. There’s a Mormon temple there. She goes once a month. Drives over and back in one day. She’ll probably be late.”

“How late?”

“Way past supper late. But don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.”

“You don’t have to cook my supper, Polly. I’m certain I could manage.”

“It’s okay. I have to take care of Granny, anyway. Chas left everything ready. It’ll be a cinch. Is there anything you need in the meantime?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine. If you need any help with Granny, let me know.”

The day dragged for Jackson, even though he spent some time with Granny more than once. He wondered what on earth Chas would drive to Idaho Falls for that had to do with her religion. He couldn’t help being curious, but he wondered if this was the kind of religion that disapproved of people marrying
outside
of their religion. That would certainly complicate the possibility of their ever ending up together. And yet, here he was, contemplating marriage. Two weeks ago if someone had told him he’d be contemplating marriage, he’d have laughed—hysterically. On top of that, he was pondering religion, or at the very least, wondering if he was a Christian. He really had
never
thought of it before. He understood the dynamics of celebrating Christmas; and all that stuff about peace and good will was something he appreciated and respected, but not any more or less than he appreciated and respected the fact that Jewish people did
not
celebrate Christmas. It was certainly food for thought.

Throughout the evening, Jackson almost felt a tangible cloud gathering around him. He started feeling crazy for even considering that he could have a future with someone like Chas, certain that she deserved far,
far
better than he could ever be. He began to wonder if he should just pack his bags and get back to Norfolk before he and Chas became any more attached to each other. He knew the searching of his premises had long since been completed, and he could go back there now; but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face the creepy feelings he knew he’d have just thinking about people in his agency going through his every belonging. As he’d told Chas, he wasn’t terribly concerned about the outcome. He just hated the ugliness of the situation. And that, too, added darkness to his mood. He thought of Dave’s wife, Mary, facing the holidays alone with her children, and he felt nauseous. He started hearing the shots go off in his head, and those shots triggered other shots that took him back to moments during his Marine experience that he wished he could permanently erase. Emptying his glass and pouring more into it, he thought of Chas telling him that he drank too much and felt certain she was right. And she’d nailed it right on the head. It wasn’t so much the quantity that he drank, or the frequency. It was his
reasons
for doing it that were a problem.
Everything
seemed to be a problem, he thought and went down to the parlor, wanting to be sure that Chas made it home safely. He’d never be able to sleep until he knew she was okay.

* * * * *

Chas pulled into the inn just after eleven, glad to be home and to know that everything was all right. She’d talked to Polly on the cell phone a while ago and knew that Granny was asleep, Jackson had been given a nice dinner, and all was well. Polly was going to sleep in one of the rooms, as she did on occasion. It was something they’d done many times for different reasons. Tonight it was just easier for Polly to go to bed as opposed to waiting until Chas got home. Sometimes she slept there so she’d be available early if Chas needed extra help with breakfast for several guests. And Chas had decided back when she’d opened the inn that she would never spend the night alone in the house with only one male guest there. It was simply her policy for Polly to stay if that were the case. The only exception she’d ever made was having Jackson in the house, but of course, Granny was there. And Jackson made her feel
more
safe, not less.

Chas got out of the car and opened the back door of the inn with a key. As was her habit, she walked up the hall to make certain everything was as it should be and to peek in on Granny. She set her things down just outside her bedroom door, then she noticed a glow coming from the parlor. Creeping closer, she could see that there was a fire in the fireplace, and Jackson was sitting in front of it, his stocking feet up on the cocktail table.

“Hello,” he said without looking in her direction when she entered the room.

“Hello,” she said, noting that he looked a little dazed while he stared into the flames, holding a glass of liquor in his hand.

“You’re home safely.” He took a long sip but still didn’t look at her.

“I am. Were you worried?”

“Maybe. I knew you would be late, but I wasn’t sure I could sleep until I knew you were safe.”

“That’s very sweet,” she said and sat down across from him, but still he didn’t look at her. Certain the liquor had affected his brain, she felt mildly angry and intent upon getting his attention. She prayed silently that her wonderful day wouldn’t be ruined by coming home to something that might mar it. Without giving him any warning, she took the glass from his hand and threw the contents into the fire where the flames let out a brief burst of exuberance from the added fuel. “Do you see what that stuff will do to you?”

Her tactic worked when he looked up at her, astonished, and snapped out of his daze. “You can take the cost of that stuff off my bill.”

“Gladly.” She slammed the empty glass on the table. “Although I think it’ll balance out the extra charge for babysitting. Is this what you do when you’re at home alone?”

“Usually,” he had to admit.

“Well, if you think I’m going to let you just sit around here and drink yourself into oblivion, you’re very, very,
very
mistaken.”

“What difference does it make to you, Mrs. Dickens? As long as I pay my bill and don’t cause you any trouble, what I do is what I do.”

“Then do it in your room. But don’t lie around in my parlor like an unmade bed, holding that booze like some kind of teddy bear.” He said nothing, didn’t move, and she added with a fair amount of confidence, “If you ask me, you
wanted
me to find you and dump it out. If you
really
wanted to be alone and get drunk, you would have stayed in
your
room.”

“Fine, I’ll stay in my room,” he said and came to his feet. She noted that he couldn’t have been drinking
too
much. He didn’t have any trouble moving around her and walking briskly toward the stairs. She heard his footsteps on the stairs, and the distant sound of his door closing two flights up, then she sank into the chair where he’d been sitting and cried. It had been such a good day—until a couple of minutes ago. The feelings that had come to her with thoughts of Jackson and their blossoming relationship had been so warm and positive. She had really believed that they were on a good course, even if she didn’t know what the outcome might be. And then she’d come home to this.