A lot had happened in that month. Eddie was back on the job and doing fine, as was his wife and their new baby boy. CNN had given the story of Jillian's attempted murder a lot of airplay. It was still painful to see her parents go through their very public exposure over Mary Gates and the changes her situation had brought to all of their lives. John Smith, at least, was on the road to a new life. More accurately, he was on the road to his old one.
The wide media coverage had netted incredible results for him. A woman had stepped forward after hearing John's story and seeing his photograph, which had been aired almost nonstop during the first week after the story had broken. While all the details hadn't yet been woven back together, the woman—who claimed to be John's sister-appeared to be credible. John Smith might actually be Maynard Schroeder, a Nova Scotia-born factory worker, who had moved to the United States fifteen years ago and who had lived alone and kept to himself most of that time. All of his family had been in Canada and hadn't known of his disappearance until his story had been picked up on the international wire. Many other details of his life, however, were still a mystery.
Jillian was on it, though, just as she was on the legal staff she'd hired to help him through his trial.
In the meantime, her career was red-hot. She'd even received a call from CNN offering her a position. Time would tell what she decided to do about that. Her contract at KGLO was up for negotiation, so who knew? Much of what she decided would depend on Nolan. Right now, it appeared he was leaning toward joining E.D.E.N, Inc., as a partner. They would weigh the pros and cons together.
At the far corner of the croquet course, Eve swore roundly, then threatened some serious damage to Dallas's reproductive equipment if he even thought about bumping her into the rough.
Her ball went sailing. Eve swore again and Susan rolled her eyes and shook her head. "That girl."
Now Jillian knew where Eve got her soft curves and blond hair. She was a younger version of her mother, who, despite her feigned disgust with her daughter's language, was clearly proud that Eve could hold her own with the boys.
Dallas and Ethan were as different from each other and Nolan in temperament as they were similar in looks. Dallas was what Rachael would refer to as a Neaty Petey. He always looked perfect. Always said the perfect thing. Always had the perfect smile.
It made her wonder why the perfect woman hadn't snapped him up. She'd said as much to Eve once.
"Because there hasn't been one born who can measure up to what that boy is looking for. Can't wait until some not-so-perfect woman comes along and knocks the pins out from under him. It's going to be a real ride watching her take him down."
The story with Ethan was a little different. He'd found the woman of his dreams—and lost her. Jillian had asked, but Nolan didn't know exactly what had driven them to divorce. While Ethan was pleasant, engaging, and sometimes even showed he was capable of Nolan's irreverent sense of humor, he kept his feelings very close to the vest. Nolan knew only that Ethan had loved his wife, and had been pretty certain she'd loved him, too.
Jillian had decided that Ethan wasn't over his ex. She wasn't sure what made her think that—possibly the emptiness she saw in his eyes when he didn't think anyone was watching him. Or possibly she was just so blissfully happy, she was a little too sensitive to someone else's pain.
"Take that, you reprobate," Eve said on a laugh, and Jillian looked up to see a yellow ball—Dallas's—go sailing into the flower bed.
She'd decided early on that she would bleed for Eve, if for no other reason than the tip she'd given her the day she'd tried to pry Nolan's location out of his brothers. Eve had understood. And Jillian pitied the man who tried to take her on. He'd have to be quite the man, Jillian thought with a smile, because Eve was going to put him through the wringer.
"I love your family," Jillian said when Nolan returned to her side with a glass of lemonade for her and a root beer for him.
"So you've said. Several times."
'They're just so extraordinary and normal," she finally decided.
He blinked at her. "I'll need a minute to process that."
She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Extraordinary because they're so special. Normal because they're so grounded."
"Doesn't take much to make you happy, does it?"
"Just you."
"So," Dallas said, walking by with his mallet propped on his shoulder, "how much longer do we have to endure all this sloppy kissy-face stuff?"
"You only wish you had someone to slop over," Nolan said, looping his arms low at Jillian's back, and played a little kissy-face that started out for his brother's benefit but ended with a heated whisper: "Let's go find someplace with a little less traffic."
She grinned up at him. "I like it here."
He narrowed his eyes. "Just once, could you pretend to agree with me on something? Or are you always going to be this obstinate?"
"Try me."
"Black," he said.
"White."
"Yes."
"No."
"Stay."
"Go."
"Great. Knew I could get you to see it my way."
Oh yeah,
she thought, as they said hasty good-byes to several pairs of knowing blue eyes. She planned on seeing it his way for the rest of her life.