Anything for You (Blue Heron #5)(44)

“‘I am fire! I am death!’” Davey said gleefully. Davey had something of a savant-like memory when it came to movies, and The Hobbit trilogy was getting a lot of play these days.

“‘There you are, Thief in the Shadows,’” Ned returned, also a Hobbit geek. “How’s it going, bud?”

“You’re living with us!”

“I am? That’s great! Thanks, guys.”

Jess moved down the table, saying hi to everyone in turn, to where two empty seats sat at the end, for her and Marcy. Marcy was still working the crowd, shaking hands and laughing. Though Jess loved the Hollands, these events always made her a little sweaty. Luckily, there was an ally who might understand.

“Hey, Levi,” she said. “Hi there, tiny Levi.” Noah Cooper, who was two months old and change, was already the image of his father, sleepy eyes and crinkly forehead. “How’s it going, Faith?”

“Hi, Jess! Congratulations on your promotion,” Faith said, smiling. Jess always felt a small flash of shame where Faith was concerned; she’d been pretty hard on her back in school days. Water under the bridge, largely thanks to Faith being incredibly nice.

“So this Marcy person,” Faith said in a low voice. “Lots of energy.”

And speaking of the energetic devil, she tapped a glass with a knife. “I just want to say hellooo, Team Holland! Thank you for taking me out! Fantastic to join all of you! I’m thrilled to be working with all of you and look forward to an amazing year!”

“Hear, hear,” came the chorus.

Marcy maneuvered into the seat next to Jess. “Oh, a baby!” she said. “I love babies. Well, I should say, they love me! Some people have a way with kids, and it’s not like I try, they just gravitate to me. Look at how he’s smiling at me!” She glanced at Levi. “You must be the father, since he looks just like you.”

“Levi Cooper,” he said, shaking her hand. “Chief of Police.”

“So if I get a speeding ticket, I should talk to you,” Marcy said, laughing merrily.

“If you get a speeding ticket, I probably gave it to you,” he said, not smiling. Good old Levi.

Hannah O’Rourke took their orders, no small feat with the elder Mrs. Holland unable to decide between the filet mignon and the sole almandine, asking for rice instead of potatoes and green beans instead of Brussels sprouts. Davey got chili and nachos; he ate like Homer Simpson, no matter that he was skinny as a pretzel stick.

Several bottles of Blue Heron wine were brought over, and Jack poured her a glass. As always, she’d drink some of it—and appreciate it; she had nothing against wine. But one glass and one glass only was her protection against the family history of alcoholism. Sometimes, Colleen would pour her a refill on the house, but Jess never drank it.

Speaking of Colleen, she came over, her stomach ripe with baby.

Strange, to think that if Jessica had said yes to Connor two nights ago, Colleen would be her future sister-in-law. The baby percolating in there would be her niece or nephew. Connor was thinking it was a girl. A little girl who’d call her Auntie Jess, who’d—

She cut that thought off at the pass.

Colleen was looking at her.

She knew. Oh, shit, she knew.

Then she smiled, right at Jess.

So maybe she didn’t know.

“Hey, everyone!” Colleen said. “I hear congratulations are in order. Well done, Jess. Hi, there,” she said to Marcy. “Colleen O’Rourke Campbell, half owner of this fine establishment.”

“I love it! So homey! So cute! Very charming! I’m Marcy, the new event planner for the Barn! Totally thrilled to meet you!”

“Same here,” Coll said, and Jess didn’t miss the assessing look she gave Marcy. “Jess, do you know any experienced bartenders looking for a summer stint? I don’t see myself yanking beers with a newborn in my arms.”

“I’ll ask around.”

“Maybe Hugo knows someone?”

“I’m working tomorrow night. I’ll ask.” It dawned on her that with Ned moving in and her raise that she might not have to wait tables this summer. It would be the first time in seventeen years. She could come home, every night, and stay there. That one job would be enough.

The thought was staggering.

“You bartend?” Marcy asked.

Jess looked at her. “I can. I waited tables for a long time. Still do a few shifts a week.”

Marcy’s eyebrows raised.

Judgment had been passed.

There was no shame in working hard. Jessica knew this. She also knew some people were snobs and looked down their cute little noses at people who worked in the service industry.

“Do you cater?” Marcy asked, turning back to Colleen. “I’m putting together a list of area restaurants and caterers that I’ll approve to make sure every event at the Barn at Blue Heron has a certain élan.”

“I’ll send our chef out to talk to you,” Colleen said. “My brother, Connor. He runs the food end of the business.”

Shit.

She’d have to get Davey to wash his hands or something. Maybe they could go throw stones in the lake for ten minutes or so. It would also give Jess a perfect reason to avoid him.

“Now, Levi, pass me my godchild!” Colleen said. “I’ve been standing here for a solid minute and I’m dying to smooch those cheeks! Right, Noah?” She gathered the baby into her arms and rested her cheek on his head. “Who loves you? Auntie Colleen does, that’s who! Faith, if I have a girl, let’s just do an arranged marriage, okay?”