Earnest by Kristin von Kreisler

patience were the only way to go. No matter what she said or did, he would be as kind to her as she’d been to him on the California hike. It would be his turn to take care of her . And he would do whatever would please her. He’d go along to get along.
    If she felt she couldn’t live with him for a while, he’d move to an apartment, as big a waste of time and energy as that would be. He’d wait till Anna came to her senses and listened to reason. He’d wait for the Anna he loved to return.
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    Jeff was walking down the gangplank, when his cell rang. For an instant, he thought, Great! Anna’s calling —until he remembered their “conversation,” and he told himself, Dream on . She’d never contact me now.
    Naomi Blackmore didn’t bother to identify herself, but he would always recognize her voice because it boomed “entitlement.” Without considering what she might be interrupting, she jumped right in with questions about Jeff ’s meeting at city hall.
    â€œEverything was fine.” He summed up the meeting with more confidence than he felt. “We’re off to a good start.”
    â€œExcellent,” she said. “While you were on Gamble, you must have heard about the fire.”
    â€œI stopped at the house. I’m on my way back to the office.”
    â€œLots of damage?”
    â€œI didn’t go inside.”
    â€œI’m in Santa Barbara. I won’t be back to see for myself for a week or two.”
    â€œYour insurance company can take care of it while you’re away,” Jeff said.
    â€œI’ve already called them. It looks like the fire is a gift.” Mrs. Blackmore chuckled. “I’m going for a cash settlement. If we get a permit, I’ll use the money for construction. If we don’t, I’ll repair the house. Either way, I win.”
    Jeff flinched at the satisfaction in her voice. “What about your tenants? They can’t stay if the house is badly burned.”
    â€œI hope they’ll live with the mess for now. I want to keep rent coming in.”
    Mrs. Blackmore has no thought of trying to look out for anybody. She’d surely never refuse water so someone else could drink. Jeff didn’t like her. Never had. Though he’d known her for months, he didn’t call her “Naomi.” Using her first name would mean familiarity he’d never want to have.
    As Jeff told her good-bye, he conjured up an unsavory picture of her at her beach house, sprawled on a chaise lounge under a peppermint-striped umbrella. No inconvenience would dare appear on her horizon. The discomfort in her life would not fill a pygmy hamster’s thimble.
    One stamp of Mrs. Blackmore’s feet got her what she wanted. Even her appearance showed she’d been cosseted all her life. Her helmet of perfectly highlighted hair. Her perfectly manicured nails, painted fire-engine red. Her gold necklaces, which shouted, I’m richer than you are. The nips and tucks that lifted her face so her sixty-year-old skin was as smooth as a stingray’s belly.

C HAPTER 7
    A nna flicked on Vincent’s turn signal and aimed him toward the entrance to Dr. Nilsen’s parking lot. She was desperate to see with her own eyes that Earnest was “hanging in,” as Dr. Nilsen had said on the phone. She wanted to rest her cheek against his neck and soak up his steady reassurance—and she wanted to reassure him that everyone loved and missed him. She’d tell him, “We want you home.”
    Suddenly, Anna tightened her grip on the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes. Jeff was driving out of the parking lot and staring at her. She didn’t want to see him. Not when hurt was sitting in her heart like a sad black toad. Jeff ’s mere presence upset her and made her want to run from him.
    As his Honda passed Vincent, Anna riveted her eyes on the clinic’s front door as if its olive green held