Kristen Ashley - The Will

I had to admit, the Cayenne was very luxurious and the ride was exceptionally smooth.

Even so, I noted, “It’s my understanding that purchasing a new car means that when you drive it off the lot, it loses a good deal of value.”

“You wanna sell it in a month or a year, that’s a problem,” he replied. “You buy a Porsche, though, it’s a high-performance vehicle, any problem you have will be down the road and I mean way down the road and it’ll likely be about wear and tear and nothin’ else. It’ll be solid. It won’t cause you any headaches. And you can probably own it for twenty years and not have to deal with shit except regular maintenance.”

I had no idea what my future held, I just knew it held Lavender House and Magdalene. And thus, when there, I would need reliable transport. And it was highly unlikely I’d wish to engage in the onerous activity of car shopping again in six months, a year or even ten of them.

“And it’s black,” he went on and I focused again on him. “Black is hot. That Cayenne in black is hotter. You in anything, even a mini-van, would be hot. That’s just you. You in that Cayenne…” he paused and grinned big, “Smokin’.”

“I’ll get the Cayenne,” I agreed immediately.

“Good call, Slick,” he approved, grinning bigger.

I grinned back.

He then moved us toward his truck, his hand still in mine, as he turned his head and called to the salesman, “Thanks for your time.”

The salesman’s face fell.

Jake bleeped the locks on his truck, took me directly to the passenger side door and opened it for me. He also helped me up. He got behind the wheel and we started the twenty-mile drive back to the Porsche dealership.

As with everything Jake gave me, his time that afternoon had been generous.

Therefore, I remarked into the cab, “For your assistance this afternoon, I think I owe you and your family another dinner.”

“Babe, after last night’s salmon and sautéed potatoes and that un-fucking-believably good hollandaise sauce followed by homemade tiramisu, I’m not gonna say no. But just sayin’, I like bein’ with you so I got a shot at that, I’m gonna take it even if it means drivin’ all over the county, lookin’ at cars and dealing with car salesmen. So you don’t owe me shit.”

I had ceased breathing when he said he liked being with me.

It must be said, I also liked being with him. A great deal. And every time I was with him, I liked it more.

Alas, I liked it in a way he didn’t like it.

Regardless, I had liked being with Henry for years in a way Henry didn’t like and I’d lived.

I could do it again.

It wouldn’t be easy and the more I got to know Jake (and his family), the less easy it became.

But my only alternative was not having Jake (and his family) and I already knew in the short time that I knew all of them that would be worse.

So I would do it, no matter how not easy it was.

For as long as I could do it.

“Though, pointing out, my boys and I could do without Project Runway. Watchin’ that shit meant Ethan paid attention to his homework and not the TV but I think it nearly killed Conner.”

I grinned at the windshield at his quip and offered, “Next time, Amber and I’ll watch it on a set in another room.”

“Strike that, you watch it on a set in another room, you aren’t on the couch with me so I’ll put up with Project Runway.”

My grin got wider.

Yes, he liked being with me.

And I liked that.

A great deal.

We drove to the Porsche dealership in Jake’s truck.

I drove back to Lavender House in a new black Cayenne with Jake trailing after Jake drove a hard bargain.

For me.

* * * * *

The next afternoon, to turn my mind from Eliza Weaver and the alarmingly quick devastation her disease was causing, I left their house when Mr. Weaver came back from the office.

I got in my new Cayenne and backed out of their driveway with my phone in my hand.

When I was on my way, my next destination was the mall. This was not because I was running out of clothes (I flew first class and thus could have more than the normal allotted luggage, but even so, I knew how to pack and was always prepared for anything) but because I needed a different kind of clothing.

I also needed to make my daily call to Henry.

The ones for the last several days had been rushed and short, mostly because he had little time to give to me. That said, I’d made them and he seemed to be mollified.

So I made today’s call on the go and multi-tasking.

“Josephine,” he greeted with a smile in his voice.

“Hello, Henry,” I replied with one in mine as well since I was smiling.

“How are you, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Fine,” I answered. “Busy. There’s much to do. As I said I would do, I did manage to buy a new car yesterday, which is good. That said, the search for it and paperwork, which is most time-consuming, not to mention annoying, ate up the afternoon and I need to get some clothes as there’s more work to do in the garden and to see to that, I shouldn’t be wearing Versace.”

“Work in the garden?” Henry queried.

“Yes,” I stated, hitting the turn signal and slowing for an upcoming stop sign, thinking while feeling the smooth deceleration, Jake was very right about this vehicle. It was sublime. “And I need to get to the mall and home and do it quickly because Jake phoned,” I carried on. “He has a lock on someone who’s interested in buying Gran’s Buick so I need to be back at Lavender House to meet Jake there so we can be there when the buyer arrives.”

“Has a lock?” Henry murmured strangely then went on with, “We?”

“Indeed,” I confirmed, making my turn. “Obviously, I have no idea how to sell a car so Jake’s going to negotiate the sale for me. And tomorrow, the cable people are scheduled to come to the house to set up Internet and, of course, Amber’s grounding is done so back to the mall we go, as I need to buy her some makeup. I’m also helping out by starting to look after Ethan for Jake after school, but this time, Amber will be with him seeing as we’re going to the mall.”

“Amber and Ethan?”

“Jake’s children,” I explained then went on to share, “There’s also Conner. He’s the oldest. I don’t see him as often since he works in town at Wayfarer’s and has a variety of babes who take up his time.” I drew in breath and asked, “So, how are you?”

Before he answered, my phone beeped.

“One second, Henry,” I murmured, looked at my phone quickly then put it back to my ear. “So sorry,” I went on. “That’s Jake. I need to take the call. It might be about the Buick.”

“Jose—”

“I’ll phone tomorrow,” I said swiftly so I didn’t miss Jake’s call. “But I hope you’re doing well. Take care, Henry.”

Before he could say a word, I accepted Jake’s call and put the phone to my ear, greeting, “Hello, Jake.”

“Hey, Slick. You good?”

“I am,” I answered then shared, “Eliza isn’t.”

There was a moment’s silence then, “Fuck. She gettin’ bad?”

“Her deterioration day to day is distressing.”

“Baby,” he said softly and that one two-syllable word didn’t heal the concern I had for Eliza Weaver but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a balm for it. “Worried about you doin’ that,” he continued. “She’s goin’ downhill that fast, you’ve got a lot on your plate and that might be too much.”

“I’m fine, Jake,” I said quietly. “It’s Eliza who isn’t.”

“I get that and that sucks for her in a big way. I feel for her, for Weaver, but I don’t know them. I know and care about you.”

He cared about me.

He was so lovely.

“Really, Jake, it doesn’t feel good to watch her decline but it does make me feel good to be there for people Gran cared about and do my bit to help.”

There was a pause before he replied, “All right, honey.”

I took us away from that unhappy topic and asked, “Are you calling about the Buick?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Conner’s been spreadin’ it around at the store that the Buick is on offer and we got another bite. I asked the other buyer to come about half an hour after the first. If he’s interested, he’ll know someone else is interested and hopefully that’ll help us get you a good deal.”

“Excellent,” I replied.

“Yeah. So see you at your place at four?”

“Yes, Jake, see you there,” I confirmed.

“Right, Slick. Later, babe.”

“Later, Jake.”

For some reason, he rang off chuckling.

As for me, for reasons I knew very well, just having spoken to Jake no matter what it was we were talking about, I rang off smiling.

* * * * *

Four hours later, I stood in the lane at Lavender House with Jake watching the Buick drive away, two cars following it. One, the man who bought the Buick for his wife, the woman currently behind the wheel of Gran’s car. The other, the disgruntled loser of the negotiation that Jake made a passing attempt to moderate but it got so heated they upped their own offers, haggling amongst themselves without any input from Jake or me.

Indeed, it got to the point where it was ridiculous. Not knowing one thing about cars, I still knew this as the wife grew openly alarmed when the discussion carried forward to become not about two elderly gentlemen wishing to own a ten-year-old Buick but two elderly gentlemen wishing to best one another.

Regardless, in the end it would seem this served me quite well.

Therefore, when we lost sight of the last car, I looked up at Jake and noted, “I think that went well.”

He burst out laughing but did it turning to me and pulling me in his arms for a tight hug.

That felt so lovely, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him back.

When he was done laughing, he looked down at me and remarked, “You crack me right the fuck up, babe.”

I took that as confirmation the negotiation on the Buick went well but more, I liked that I amused him so I smiled at him and replied, “Good.”

His arms gave me a squeeze and his face changed to what could be nothing but disappointment (and it must be said, I looked hard to read something else in his features and saw only that) before he announced, “Need to get home, get the kids dinner, make sure they’re not killin’ each other.”

I was suddenly disappointed too, but had no choice but to agree.

“All right.”

He gave me a squeeze.

I forced another smile.

Then he bent his head and my breath caught when, this time, he brushed his lips just half an inch from the side of my mouth and then, before moving away, he brushed his nose against the side of mine.

I fought to get my breath back. Winning that fight, I then had to fight to modulate it as he pulled away and whispered, “Talk to you later, Josie.”

Unable to speak, I nodded.

He gave me another squeeze, then let me go and moved to his truck.

I waved as he pulled away and saw through the back window as he lifted his hand and flicked it out, indicating he saw my wave.

I watched Jake’s truck out of sight and moved back to the house thinking that for the first time in days, there was nothing scheduled, imminent or otherwise that would mean I would see or even hear from Jake again.

And this made me feel unusual—distraught and downhearted.

But I knew from experience of caring for Henry in a way he didn’t return, with my relationship with Jake, it was a feeling I would need to get used to.

Thus, I sighed deeply as I closed the door to Lavender House behind me thinking a word these days I thought frequently and knew I would continue to think with regularity when it came to Jake Spear.

And that was…alas.

I felt something tickle my nose and, mostly asleep, I brushed it away.

It went away but came back and I felt my brows draw together as I kept my eyes closed and batted at whatever was disturbing me.

It went away again but then came back so I lifted my hand again to stop the sensation and sleepily caught the offender.

It wasn’t such as an insect.

It was a hand.

A hand!

My eyes flew open and slid sideways to see Jake was sitting on the side of my bed, leaned into me, one arm on the other side of me, hand in the bed, one hand in my face holding a lock of my hair with which he obviously had been tickling my nose.