The Will (Magdalene #1)(90)

This was met with silence.

Then I heard, “Fuck.”

He understood the reason for the Weaver children’s visit.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” I said quietly. “I didn’t wish to tell you. I didn’t want to take your focus off your fight tonight with that kind of news. I know you don’t know them but you worry about me and—”

He interrupted me. “No matter what, babe, it’s on your mind, you need to let it go, you tell me. I don’t give a f**k if I’m set to fight Holyfield, I wanna know.”

Yes, it would be a lot easier if he was less wonderful.

“You doin’ okay with this news?” Jake asked.

“No,” I whispered, again honestly.

“You need company?” he went on.

I didn’t need it. I’d be all right.

That didn’t mean I didn’t want it.

But Jake had a fight so I shouldn’t ask for it.

“No, Jake. I have quite a bit to do today. Once I get started, it’ll take my mind off things. Then I have your event tonight to look forward to. I’m fine.”

“Sure?” he pressed.

“I’m sure,” I told him.

He didn’t respond for a moment then he said, “Okay, baby. You get unsure, you call. Right?”

Oh yes.

It would be much easier if he was less wonderful.

“Right, Jake,” I agreed.

“Shit,” he muttered suddenly then he told me, “Sounds like Con’s up. I wanna have a word with him before he has to get to work. I gotta let you go.”

“That’s fine. I’ll, well…see you tonight.”

“You will, Slick. See you then.”

“Yes, Jake. Good luck and, um…mess him up.”

That got me another chuckle before, “My promise to you, I will, Josie. Later, honey.”

“Later, Jake.”

Unlike Henry, I waited to hear his disconnect before I put down my phone.

I went back to my mug, took a sip of coffee and resolutely turned my eyes to the plants and herbs in Gran’s greenhouse.

I needed to get in there. And I needed to because they did need attention. But I also needed to so I could take my mind off Eliza Weaver, Arnie Weaver and the reason their children were visiting.

But mostly I needed to because I needed to get my mind off just how wonderful Jake Spear was and just how much I needed him to be a little less wonderful.

* * * * *

I was working in the greenhouse when the house phone rang again.

As I’d suspected, I’d managed to procure backstage passes to the Bounce concert in Boston that was to occur two weeks hence. I did this by calling Bounce’s manager and he hadn’t even talked to the band before he said, “No probs, Josephine. We’ll have the Malone party on the list and they’ll be instructed to give you as many passes as you need.”

I’d texted this information to Jake who’d texted back, “Gotcha, Slick.” I’d also texted this information to Amber, telling her to share it with the Taylors so they could confirm with their parents. Her reply was oddly, “SQUEEEEE!!!”

I’d hit the greenhouse and started work but it was no surprise it was not easy to take my mind off Jake. Though I did manage to focus on the less difficult things, such as going to his fight that night and primary to that, what I’d wear.

I’d never been to a fight. I had no idea what attire was appropriate.

It was this that I was thinking when the phone started ringing.

I put down my clippers and headed to the phone, brushing small dead leaves of thyme from my fingers. I grabbed it and put it to my ear.

“Lavender House,” I greeted.

“Josephine?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Reverend Fletcher.”

Slightly surprised, I settled a hip to the counter and said, “Hello, Reverend Fletcher. How are you today?”

“I’m well, Josephine, thank you for asking,” he replied. “I don’t want to take up much of your time but it’s come to my attention you’re looking after Eliza Weaver as well as collecting Ethan Spear from school.”

It was not a surprise that he knew this. Magdalene was a small town but news traveled fast even when one was not in a small town.

What was a surprise was that he phoned and referred to it.

“Yes, Reverend, I am,” I confirmed.

“Does this mean you’re planning to stay in Magdalene for a while?” he went on to query.

“Indeed it does,” I told him.

“That’s lovely news. Ruth and I would enjoy seeing you at services and perhaps you’ll join us for dinner one evening.”

Services would not likely be on my agenda. Although I quite liked the Fletchers and obviously, being Gran’s granddaughter, I believed in God and honored Him (mostly), services tended to occur early. I’d wake up early to work out with Jake but I wouldn’t relish doing it to get dressed up to listen to a sermon.

Dinner would be nice, though.

“That would be lovely,” I said.

“I’m also calling for another reason,” he shared.

“And that would be?” I prompted when he said no more.

“I believe you know Pearl Milshorn?”