Sisters by Choice (Blackberry Island #4)(107)

“Thanks, Mom,” JJ said, sounding grateful. “I’ll help load and unload it, though.”

The rest of the morning passed quickly. Kristine’s list of things to buy grew but thankfully everything after the dishwasher was relatively inexpensive. Once the boxes were unpacked, the boys flattened them and carried them to her SUV. She would swing by the recycling center after she dropped them off.

Before she locked the door, she glanced around. All the equipment fit neatly on shelves. She was going to have to spend much of Monday washing everything by hand before she could use it. Gloves, she thought glumly. She would need rubber gloves and a couple of scrub brushes.

She dropped off the boys, hit the recycling center, then drove home. When she was in the driveway, she stared at the house she loved and wondered for the hundredth time why Jaxsen hadn’t brought by the boys himself. They hadn’t seen each other since he’d fixed up the store. Was he sending a message?

She picked up her phone and pressed a couple of buttons. When he answered, she blurted, “I thought you were bringing the boys this morning.”

Jaxsen hesitated. “I wanted to, but I thought I’d be in the way.”

“How could you think that?”

“The last time we talked in person, it didn’t go very well.”

“I know but you did all the work on the store and Jaxsen, don’t we have to talk? Or are you done?”

She hadn’t meant to say that, ask that, but once the words were out, she knew she wouldn’t call them back. However much it hurt, she had to know.

“I’m not done. Are you?”

Relief. Sweet relief. “Of course not. I didn’t want you to move out. I want to talk about this. I want things to be good between us.”

“I do, too.”

Finally, she thought, leaning her head against the window and exhaling slowly. “I’m glad.”

“So now what?”

An excellent question. How did they move forward? What was the first step and the one after that? Should they talk to a counselor or muddle through on their own?

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” she asked.

“I’d like that.”

“Me, too.”

“If you’ll get JJ, I can pick up Tommy and Grant,” he offered.

“Perfect. I’ll see you with the boys.”

“I’ll be here.”

They hung up and she ran into the house. She had a thousand things to do—figure out what they were having for dinner and go to the grocery store, tidy up, change her clothes—although she wasn’t sure into what.

Anticipation returned. Tonight, she thought. Tonight she and Jaxsen would talk and get their marriage back on track. She was sure of it.



Chapter Twenty-Nine


“Admit it,” Dugan said, handing Sophie an ice-cream cone with two scoops of chocolate chip ice cream. “You’re having a good time.”

She licked her cone, then glanced out at the water.

They were down by the beach on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. The sun was out, the temperatures were flirting with seventy and the sound of the waves mingled with the laughter of kids playing.

“This is nice,” she said, returning her attention to the man with her. Dugan had called that morning and asked her to spend the afternoon with him. He’d picked her up at CK and brought her to the park by the beach. She’d been surprised there were so many people out, along with food carts and people selling crafts and kites.

“It’s a little strange,” she admitted as they walked along the boardwalk. “I wasn’t expecting the crowd.”

“It’s Saturday and sunny and we’re heading into summer.”

“Still.”

He stopped and stared at her. “Sophie, when was the last time you didn’t work on a Saturday?”

“I don’t know. When I lived in LA and I would fly back here, I would be gone over a Saturday, so then.”

His deep blue eyes grew thoughtful. “What about vacations?”

“Ugh. Do we have to talk about that? I hate vacations.”

“No one hates vacations.”

“You take one with my ex and then we’ll talk. His goal was to visit all fifty states. And not just visit—drive. Not to Hawaii, of course, but we never went there. And we always had to go look at the weird stuff. Like the world’s biggest ball of yarn. God forbid we should see something cool like the Grand Canyon or New Orleans. And he was a huge B and B fan. I get that some people want to comingle with other travelers and talk, but please not first thing in the morning, over breakfast. Why can’t we stay at some anonymous hotel where there’s room service and maybe a spa? You go look at the world’s biggest ball of yarn. I want a massage.”

He smiled at her. “So no real thoughts on vacations?”

“Ha-ha. I just don’t relax well. I like to work. Okay, sure, eventually I should probably look at some life balance stuff. I’m trying not to work on Sunday. That’s something. And maybe I could take a vacation, if there was a good hotel. And there wasn’t any yarn ball.”

“How do you feel about the south of France?”

“I know nothing about it. Is it nice?”

“It’s very nice. Relaxing and beautiful with lots of great food and wine. I’ll accept your issues with B and Bs, but would you accept a rented villa?”