At least, Sadie assumed that’s what they had been for him. For her, of course, it was the catalyst that set her life on its course. But maybe, perhaps, they could be cordial.
It would make life easier, anyway. Clearly, she was going to be seeing him all over town. And she didn’t have to let him in. She could fortify her walls.
Her head heavy with that thought, she started on the orange balsamic marinade for the chicken she’d be grilling later, the bright citrus scent making her think of summer. The sound of the “idiot box” filtered in from the living room and just as she started to grate the zest of the orange, a knock sounded on the front door.
“I’ll get it,” she hollered to Gigi, wiping her hands on her apron. She hadn’t changed out of the short-sleeved red wrap dress she’d worn to church, and noticed that a few specks of olive oil had managed to splatter themselves on the skirt. Par for the course. Her brain usually worked faster than her hands and often resulted in toothpaste on her shirt, coffee grinds all over the counter, and things falling off the shelf from where she’d stuffed them away too hastily.
“Jake!” Sadie cried in surprise when she opened the door. “You’re, um, you’re early,” she said, not opening the door all the way and glancing to the living room where Bambi had made himself comfortable on the couch.
“I thought maybe I could help with dinner since you said I didn’t need to bring anything. Even though I brought these, anyway,” he said, holding up two bottles of wine. “Pinot gris, because I know you don’t like reds, and a zinfandel, in case you’re feeling brave and want to try something new.”
Sadie just stood there staring at him, trying to figure out what to say, when she heard the tiniest whimper come from the living room.
“Are you gonna let me in?” he called out.
“I—oh yes! Just, um—hang on one second.” And she shut the door in his face. “Bambi!” she hissed. “Come here, boy.”
“What are you doing with that dog?” Gigi demanded at full volume.
“Shh!” Sadie waved her hands in a wild attempt to shush Gigi. “I’m putting him in my room. Jake’s here, and I, um—I don’t know how he’ll react around strangers.”
“Jake or the dog?” Gigi asked with narrowed eyes.
Sadie didn’t answer as she bounded up the stairs, Bambi following after her.
“Good boy,” she said, giving him a quick scratch behind the ears. “I’ll sort this out, I promise,” she told him. She told her heart to stop pounding, but as usual it didn’t listen. It’s just about the dog, she told herself, refusing the urge to look in a mirror and make sure her eyeliner wasn’t smudged.
A second later she opened the front door again. Jake turned around and she smiled, forgetting for a moment about trying to figure out how she should treat him. After all, he was still Jake. Surely it couldn’t be that difficult for them to be normal around each other? If she could just shove the past under a Texas–sized Band-Aid.
“Okay, come in,” she said, stepping aside.
“Hiding all the magic books and candlesticks?” he asked with raised brows.
“And the animal innards we use for divining. You know, you really don’t need to help with anything.”
“Well, what else was I going to do? Sit in my Elmwood Motel room by myself?”
“Can’t stand your own company? I totally sympathize.”
“Be nice to our guest!” Gigi hollered from the living room.
“Listen to your elders,” Jake said with a solemn tone and a teasing glint in his eyes.
Sadie reached out to smack him on the arm, but he darted out of the way. She wanted to point out that he was not there by her invitation. Damn Gigi and her meddling ways. What was she playing at, anyway?
“Give me those,” she said, grabbing the wine from his hands and turning on her heel.
Jake followed her into the kitchen and watched as she uncorked the bottle of pinot gris he’d brought. Of course, he remembered that she didn’t favor the reds.
“What can I do?” he asked, always helpful to a fault.
Go back where you came from?
Never have left?
Kiss me, maybe?
Shut up, Sadie.
Silently, she handed him a glass of wine and ignored the gentle tug on her heart.
“Thanks, by the way, for abandoning me with Annabelle.”
“Sometimes the best kind of torture is the one where I leave you to your own devices. I mean, you should expect it. You’re the talk of the town.”