Kernel of Truth (22 page)

And apparently drunk driving at six thirty in the morning didn't count as setting a good example.

“She's not teaching at the preschool, either.” Susanna came in and sat down next to Sam. “Mrs. Santos is substituting for her until they make a decision.”

Poor Jessica. I never thought those two words would cross my mind together at the same time, but here they were now.

“Reverend Lee said everything was up in the air pending an investigation.” Sam nodded gravely.

All these years, I'd wanted everyone to see Jessica as I saw her. Somehow it didn't feel so good once it happened. I knew what it felt like to have everyone look at you with suspicion. It didn't feel good. I didn't want anyone—even someone I didn't like very much—to have to feel that way.

I shut out the lights in the kitchen. Susanna and Sam went out the front door. I flipped the sign on the door from Open to Closed and followed them. As I locked the front door, a huge bang went off behind me.

Instinctively, I crouched in the doorway, arms around Sprocket to protect him. I looked up to see bursting colors in the air over Main Street. Fireworks.

Feeling stupid, I straightened up. Another barrage of fireworks went up. Giant red and blue blossoms of color against the twilight sky. Delicate white arcs of light crossing in front of them. “Ooh,” I said. I swear it must be a reflex.

Then the music started. Van Morrison's “Moondance.” Possibly the sexiest song ever. I looked around. People stood stock-still on the sidewalk, staring up at the sky at the fireworks, smiling at the music.

Then he was there. Antoine came striding toward me, his
arms full of calla lilies, my favorite flower. He handed me the flowers, and then, in front of everyone, with fireworks going off behind his head and Van Morrison saying it was a fantabulous night to make romance, he sank to one knee. “Rebecca, my love, my muse, my everything. Marry me. Marry me again.”

Everyone on the sidewalk burst into applause.

Except
me.

“What the hell?”
I whispered to Antoine.

He knelt there before me, his beautiful blue eyes swollen and bruised. “Come home with me, Rebecca. Come back to me. Be with me. Love me.” His voice was far from whispery. He knew how to project for an audience and he was using his knowledge. He wanted everyone to hear what he was saying to me.

I swayed on my feet, but not in my heart. Of course he would do it like this, with a huge audience. Of course he would make it over-the-top romantic. Of course he would put me in a ridiculous and uncomfortable spot. If I said no right now in front of all these people I'd look like the meanest girl ever. I'd just gotten the town on my side for the first time since forever. I didn't want to lose them that fast.

I leaned down so it would look like I was kissing Antoine and whispered into his lips, “I am going to kill you.”

The whole town cheered. At least, it felt like that.

*   *   *

After Antoine's way-over-the-top
PDA, I'd managed to get home and lock the door with him on one side and me on the other. I'd taken the phone off the hook and stayed inside. I was incredibly relieved to find my porch empty the next morning when I got up.

I was generally the first person on our block of stores to open up. Annie didn't have a breakfast crowd for flowers, although she sometimes came in early to get orders ready. Plus, apparently that whole gardening thing made people get all in sync with nature and sunrises and all that. Lake Erie Collectables never opened before ten. Barbara contended that garage salers got up early, but antique collectors slept in.

Because it was getting darker every morning and what with the whole being smacked on the head with something heavy and hard, I'd started driving to the store in the morning. On Friday, I came in the back and started the breakfast bars. I was getting ready to open my doors at seven thirty when I heard the screaming.

My first thought was, “Not again.” I knew the second the words popped into my head that they weren't admirable. But there it was.

I ran to the front door and threw it open. Janet Barry was there with her land cruiser of a stroller, pointing at the doorway of Coco's and screaming. I ran to where she was pointing. Jessica was collapsed in a heap in the doorway. I ran back into the shop and called 911.

Sheila Kim answered. “911. What's your emergency?”

Sheila had been one year behind me in high school. We'd shared a few bleary mornings back in the day. “Sheila, it's
Rebecca Anderson over at POPS. There's been another attack.”

“Another one?”

“Yes. Jessica James has been attacked at Coco's Cocoas.”

There was a pause. “Not by you, right?”

“No, Sheila. Not by me. Could you send someone? Fast? I think she's unconscious.” There was no other way that a person could stay asleep with Janet screaming like that, especially now that the baby and the toddler had both joined in. The noise was deafening and showed no sign of stopping. I wasn't sure which one of them to slap.

“On it, Rebecca.”

I went back out and ushered Janet and her kids in. “Sit. Eat whatever you want. There's coffee in the kitchen.” Then I ran back out to be with Jessica. She was coming to as I got to her.

“What happened?” she asked groggily.

“You were attacked, Jessica. Don't move too much. The ambulance is on its way.” I could already hear the sirens coming. “What were you doing here so early?”

“I wanted to pick up some things.” She tried to sit up again and grabbed the back of her head.

I put my arm around her to support her.

She glared at me. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“Because the milk of human kindness runs in my veins, Jessica. What did you think I'd do? Leave you here in the doorway?” I knew the last time I'd helped Jessica hadn't worked out so well, but this time I wasn't going to drag her anywhere. I was going to sit with her until the ambulance came. Nothing more.

“Maybe.”

I rolled my eyes and almost got up and left her for saying
that. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction, though. Instead I took off my scarf and wrapped it around her because she'd started shivering.

“Jessica?” I asked.

“What do you want, Rebecca?” She sounded weary.

“Did you happen to smell anything right before you were attacked?” I'd smelled almonds. Barbara had smelled hazelnuts. I'd never know if Coco had smelled anything.

“What do you mean?” Jessica asked.

“I'm not sure, but did you maybe smell some kind of spice or nut or something?”

“Right now the only nut I smell is you.” She shut her eyes.

I really, really almost snatched my scarf back for that one. Luckily, Eric Gladstone arrived right then and moved me aside before I could find something to smack Jessica on the head with myself.

*   *   *

Eric had taken
Jessica to the hospital, but had left all her stuff in Coco's Cocoa's doorway. I took her bag with me into POPS. Once my morning rush was over, I closed the shop and left a note on the front door saying that I'd be back by two, and drove over to the hospital.

When I walked into the emergency room, Nurse Jing Jing said, “Thank goodness you're here. Are you taking her home?”

“Taking who home?”

“The little one. Jessica. The one who got hit on the head like you.” She pointed at one of the bays. “Eric said you were the one who called 911.”

Jessica sat propped up in the hospital bed, looking for all the world like a little china doll. Her hair wasn't even mussed. “Isn't someone else coming for her? I was only bringing her bag.”

Jing Jing shook her head. “She called about five different people. No one will come. The boyfriend dumped her. Something about using him for free legal help. The preschool principal is teaching for her. Nobody wants her.”

“Well, I don't want her, either.” I couldn't imagine that Jessica would want me to be the one to take her home. The thought of it made my head start to ache again.

“Yeah, but you're here and I need the bed. I'll sign her out to you.” She pulled out a chart and starting making notes on it. “She's really no trouble. Not like you, and you had people fighting to take you home. There's no accounting for taste, I guess.”

I was going to protest, but decided it wouldn't kill me to give Jessica a ride home. “Do I have to stay with her?” There were limits to exactly how much human kindness milk was running in my veins.

Jing Jing shook her head. “No. No concussion. She didn't get hit as hard as you did. Whoever hit you really gave you a wallop. Hers was more like a love tap. Hardly even a bruise. Are you sure she was unconscious when you found her?”

“She sure looked unconscious to me.” She hadn't even twitched when I first ran up to her.

“Whatever.” Jing Jing squeaked over to Jessica. “Your ride is here.”

“My what?” She looked up and saw me. Her facial expression told me she was about as thrilled to have me give her a ride as I was to give her one. Then it changed to resignation. “Fine. I'll get dressed.”

*   *   *

I pulled the
car around. I coaxed Sprocket into the back and helped Jessica into the car once Jing Jing wheeled her out.

Sprocket growled as Jessica got into the car. “Of course you have the beast with you.”

“He's not a beast. You and Allen Thompson are seriously the only people he growls at.” I buckled my seat belt. “Where do you live?”

Jessica stared at me. “You don't know?”

“Why should I know, Jessica? It's not like you ever invited me over for tea.” Although she apparently knew where I lived despite me not inviting her to my place.

She snorted. “Good point. I'm on Marigold Avenue. The seven-hundred block.”

That I could work with. I glanced in the rearview mirror. Sprocket had his nose in Jessica's bag again. I snapped my fingers at him, hoping Jessica wouldn't notice. For once, she didn't. When we got to her house, his nose was in my bag. I made sure he wasn't eating any of the fudge I'd packed in a tin in there and then got out to help her out of the car, but she rolled her eyes at me. “I'll be fine,” she said. “I don't understand it. You get hit on the head and people are fighting over who gets to take you home. You get proposed to in front of the entire town. Everyone leaves me to rot in the emergency room by myself. I don't know how you do it.”

My jaw nearly dropped. “I didn't ask for any of those things.”

She glared at me. “That only makes it worse.”

“I'm sorry, Jessica.” That I really meant.

“Whatever. I mean, thank you.” Then she was gone, and I felt like I could breathe again.

I stopped at Garrett's office to drop off the fudge and because he'd pretty much promised me a date once the cease-and-desist thing was over. It was over and I still hadn't gotten my date. Coco Pop Fudge had made him declare undying love for me before. I thought maybe it might at least get me dinner and a movie.

When I walked in, Pearl looked at me and narrowed her eyes. She hit the intercom button. “It's her.”

Her tone was totally different than her singsongy “She's here” the last time. Before I could ask why, Garrett was in his doorway. “What do you need, Rebecca?” His tone was short and curt.

I drew back. “I, uh, brought you some Tuxedo Coco Pop Fudge.” I held out the package.

He looked at the package and then looked back at me. “Thank you, but I'm not hungry. Did you have a legal problem?”

Amazingly, at the moment, I did not. “No.”

He turned and went back into his office, shutting the door behind him with a click. I turned to Pearl. “What's eating him?”

Pearl pursed her lips and then said, “It's not nice to toy with people, Rebecca. Mr. Garrett's a good lawyer and a good man.”

Did she think I was going to hold the package of fudge out to him and then snatch it back when he reached for it? “How am I toying with him?”

Pearl rolled her eyes. She tapped on her keyboard for a second or two and then turned the monitor to face me. It displayed the
Grand Lake Sentinel
website. Most of the page was dominated by a photo of Antoine on his knee before me and me bending down to give him what looked like a kiss on the lips. Fireworks were going off behind us.

“That is not what it looks like,” I protested.

“Prove it,” Pearl said.

I turned around and pounded on Garrett's office door. “That photo is not what it looks like,” I shouted.

Nothing happened, so I knocked again. Harder.

This time the door opened. Garrett leaned against the frame, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “I'm listening.”

“What I actually was doing was telling him I was going to kill him.”

“Kill. Kiss. The words are pretty similar,” Pearl said behind me.

I turned. “You're not helping.”

She shrugged. “Who said I was on your side?”

I shot her what I hoped was a death-ray look and turned back to Garrett. “You know what he's like. You've met him. He's infuriating and will do anything to get his way. If you oppose him directly, it blows up in your face. I did what I had to do to get away from him without making more of a scene than he was already making.”

Garrett rubbed his jaw where the bruise from Antoine's punch was still visible. “He is hard to derail once he gets on track.”

“Impossible,” I said. “I was married to the man for more than a decade. Believe me. I know. Plus there were all those people watching.”

“Ah.” Garrett nodded. “The people. Gotta worry about what the people think.”

“Yes. I do. You were the one who kept telling me about that whole court-of-public-opinion thing.”

“And that was the moment you suddenly decided to start taking my advice?” He leaned in toward me.

I leaned a little toward him. Our faces were very close. “Maybe.”

“Where'd you sleep last night?” he asked, looking deep into my eyes.

“In my bed in my apartment.” Did my voice sound breathy? It sounded kind of breathy.

“Where did he sleep?” His lips were almost touching mine. His voice sounded a little growly.

“How the hell should I know?” I asked.

“Good answer,” he said. Then he kissed me.

I almost didn't notice the sound of Pearl's camera clicking behind us.

*   *   *

As nice as
that kiss was, I needed to get back to the shop. Fudge lines were already starting to form out front. I slipped around the back so I'd have a few seconds to compose myself before opening up to the onslaught.

The crowd seemed to have doubled since the day before. After the fifth person congratulated me and asked me when I'd be moving back to Napa, I started to catch on.

Everyone thought their days of Coco Pop Fudge were numbered. That having accepted Antoine's crazy public proposal, I'd be closing up shop. I kept repeating that there was nothing to congratulate me for and that I had no intention of leaving Grand Lake in the near future except for vacations.

It was like trying to ladle out soup with a thimble.

Susanna and Sam showed up as soon as school let out and took over the front counter as I still had my usual Friday afternoon special orders to deal with. It was good to be out of full view. I collapsed into a kitchen chair and gave myself a second to breathe. It became a second to have a little bit of a cry instead. Not those big gut-wrenching boohoos that a girl sometimes needs in times of great stress, just a little weepiness in recognition of having managed to have gotten myself into a difficult spot without ever meaning to do the wrong thing.

Story of my freaking life.

The other story? Getting on with it. Which is what I did.
Crying wasn't going to get the six popcorn buckets and five popcorn ball orders made and ready for pickup.