Not Quite Dating(54)

“No, she seemed a little preoccupied through the entire process. Her sister seemed to be more suspicious.”
“Monica is sharp.”
“No argument there. She had to talk Ms. Mann out of taking a truck, which I thought was strange for a lady.”
Jack lifted his head, suddenly felt a chill race up his spine. “A truck?”
“Yeah, she kept peeking inside the bigger ones we have on the lot.”
“The bigger ones?” Why would Jessie want a truck?
“What does a woman like her need with a truck? She lives in an apartment.”
“An apartment.” Jack’s mind went fuzzy. Jessie wouldn’t need a truck. But broke Jack had an old, beat-up pickup.
“Are you there, Mr. Morrison?” Mr. Gravis asked.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“She did ask if there was a possibility of switching the car for the truck within a couple of weeks, or five hundred miles. I didn’t know what to say to her. You said to let her pick out what she wanted, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to pay the depreciation on one vehicle if she did bring the crossover back.”
A slow smile started at one edge of his mouth and spread to the other.
“Mr. Morrison?”
“Sorry, Mr. Gravis. I think Jessie’s preoccupied mind is contagious. Don’t worry about her bringing the car back. I have a feeling she’ll be keeping it.”
Jessie would give up a new car, something she desperately needed, to put him in a new truck. Or maybe she was thinking them…they could use a truck. “Thanks again, Mr. Gravis.”
“You’re welcome. It was fun. I felt like Santa giving away a car to an unsuspecting woman.”
Jack disconnected the call and walked a little faster to the house.
Beth, the housekeeper and cook, scolded him about taking his boots off before he “walked through her clean house.” The familiar rant made him smile even more.
“You may have been gone a long time, but the rules around here haven’t changed,” Beth said, waving her finger at him from the kitchen sink. Part of the reason the Morrison money didn’t shoot to Jack’s head was because his father employed down-to-earth people like Beth.
A few strong pulls and the boots found their way under a bench in the mudroom. “I see you’re just as feisty as ever,” he teased.
Beth, somewhere in her late sixties, graced him with a smile of her own. “I see your ride did you good. It’s nice to see you smile.”
Jack walked over to her and planted a kiss on her forehead.
“What on earth was that for?”
“For everything you do. I don’t think I’ve said thank you enough.”
Beth crossed her hands over her chest and narrowed her eyes. “Have you been drinking?”
Jack tossed his head back, laughing. “Not today. Do you know where Katie is?”
“I think she’s in the den, fiddling with the Christmas tree.”
One more kiss and a wink and Jack went to search for his sister. Sure enough, she was in the process of rearranging the tree ornaments to her liking. Dressed in a big sweater and blue jeans, Katie looked more like the sister he’d grown up with. The flashy-dressing Katie never did sit well with him.
“Jessie picked out a truck,” he blurted out, startling his sister.
“What?”
“A truck. Well, actually she ended up with a car or crossover, but she looked at trucks.”
Katie sat the ornament in her hand down. “Is that supposed to mean something to me? Cuz I have to tell you, it doesn’t.”
Jack grasped Katie’s shoulders. “Why would a woman who lives in an apartment and works as a waitress want to buy a truck?”
“I don’t think she would unless her husband pushed it. Seems all you guys need to have your trucks.”
“Exactly.” Jack pulled his sister close and hugged her hard. “I’ve got to go.”
Katie smiled. “Oh yeah? Where to?”
“You know where I’m going. I’ll need to do some shopping first. Can you run interference with Dad? He’s going to be ticked when he gets here and I’m gone.”
With sure hands, Katie turned him around and pushed him toward the door. “Don’t you worry about Dad. Just get back there and fix it. Don’t mess it up this time.”


Heartbroken didn’t describe the pain in her chest nearly enough. Every day was an effort. Jessie scolded herself for the umpteenth time. “I shouldn’t have driven him away.”
“You’re talking to yourself again,” Monica called from the living room.
“She’s been doing that a lot,” Danny said.
Monica and Danny were making handmade cards to send out. Danny drew a picture, and Monica signed the inside with all their names. It was a tradition the three of them had started the first Christmas Danny could scribble on paper.
“I’m not talking to myself.”
“Really? Is there someone in the kitchen we can’t see from here?” Monica chuckled when she asked.
“You’re gonna end up with coal in your stocking, Mo.”
Danny laughed.
Jessie stirred the stew simmering on the stove and turned the heat down.
A loud knock on the door brought all six eyes to it. Monica glanced at her watch. “Expecting anyone?”
“Nope.”
Jessie walked to the door, wiping her hands on the apron around her waist. Through the peephole, she saw a red box.
“Who is it?”
“Delivery.”
Shrugging her shoulders, Jessie opened the door.
In front of her was a set of hands full of beautifully wrapped gifts connected to a pair of jeans and cowboy boots.