said.
“You bet your snooty ass he is,” Sandy said. “Smart enough that it won’t be long before he sees you for what you are.”
Joyce pulled herself up. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I surely do, and so does everyone else on this island. You’ve made it clear how you feel about Jessi, and some of the comments you’ve made?” She shook her head, met Joyce’s eyes in the mirror. “One of these days, some kid is going to throw that in Benji’s face. Whose side do you think he’ll take?”
Joyce sniffed dismissively, but she didn’t look so self-righteous anymore, Jessi thought; not quite so certain. And she was definitely speechless as she turned on her heel and slammed out the door.
“Don’t you dare apologize to that woman,” Sandy snapped at Jessi. But she took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and seemed the more relaxed for it.
“Remind me never to make you mad,” Jessi said.
“You didn’t make me mad.”
“I disappointed you.”
“No.” Sandy tipped Jessi’s head down, her scissors snicking again, sounding less homicidal now. “I just want you to stand up for yourself.”
“How do I do that? It’s hard enough to face her with hard feelings between us. If there are harsh words as well…” She spread her hands. “I’ve cost her enough.”
“Cost her?” Sandy snorted rudely. “After growing up with Joyce Proctor, can you honestly say you were the one who pushed Lance away?”
“Not entirely, but I helped.”
“Maybe you provided a kick in the ass, Jess, but that kid had one foot off this island from the moment he discovered the world didn’t end at these shores. And what did Joyce get out of it? The sweetest grandson ever, that’s what. Not that she deserves Benji. Or you, for that matter.”
Jessi looked up, met Sandy’s eyes, and made sure Sandy saw how much her words, her opinion—how much she mattered.
Sandy sniffed, fluffed at Jessi’s hair. “What do you think?”
Jessi took a critical look in the mirror, then lifted her gaze to Sandy’s and her lips in a smile. “I think I’m lucky to have any hair left at all.”
Chapter Four
H ey there, Jessi.”
“Hi, Mr. MacDonald.”
“Tomatoes on sale, just came in fresh yesterday.”
Which Jessi already knew, and since Maggie had brought them in by boat, along with the rest of the market’s fresh produce, Jessi already had a bowl of beautiful, ripe tomatoes in her refrigerator.
What she didn’t have was milk and eggs, and the fun of spending a half hour walking the market’s aisles, enjoying a simple task she usually had to rush through. Her budget meant she planned each week’s meals carefully and didn’t deviate from her list. She could have a little harmless fun leafing through a cookbook, though, take the time to imagine what it would be like to make some of the fancy recipes she saw the television chefs make—after a lot of cooking lessons.
For that matter, wouldn’t it be fun to watch a program from start to finish, and not while she folded laundry or dusted shelves or helped Benji with his homework. But that time would come, she reminded herself, and soon enough.
Benji would be off to college before she knew it, she thought with equal parts pride and sadness. Once he graduated, he’d likely take a job on the mainland somewhere, like all the young people did. Not that she blamed them; Windfall just didn’t offer enough in the way of opportunity.
Benji was smart as a whip; he’d want to do more than run a shop during tourist season or, if he stayed true to his current passion and learned to fly, squiring tourists and making mail runs. One thing she knew about her son, he would look for adventure. Windfall tended to be a lot of the same.
“What’s for supper?”
Jessi kept strolling, not all that surprised to hear Hold’s voice. And since it came from behind her, she found it better to keep her back turned while she absorbed the little jolt he always gave her.
“You bet your snooty ass he is,” Sandy said. “Smart enough that it won’t be long before he sees you for what you are.”
Joyce pulled herself up. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I surely do, and so does everyone else on this island. You’ve made it clear how you feel about Jessi, and some of the comments you’ve made?” She shook her head, met Joyce’s eyes in the mirror. “One of these days, some kid is going to throw that in Benji’s face. Whose side do you think he’ll take?”
Joyce sniffed dismissively, but she didn’t look so self-righteous anymore, Jessi thought; not quite so certain. And she was definitely speechless as she turned on her heel and slammed out the door.
“Don’t you dare apologize to that woman,” Sandy snapped at Jessi. But she took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and seemed the more relaxed for it.
“Remind me never to make you mad,” Jessi said.
“You didn’t make me mad.”
“I disappointed you.”
“No.” Sandy tipped Jessi’s head down, her scissors snicking again, sounding less homicidal now. “I just want you to stand up for yourself.”
“How do I do that? It’s hard enough to face her with hard feelings between us. If there are harsh words as well…” She spread her hands. “I’ve cost her enough.”
“Cost her?” Sandy snorted rudely. “After growing up with Joyce Proctor, can you honestly say you were the one who pushed Lance away?”
“Not entirely, but I helped.”
“Maybe you provided a kick in the ass, Jess, but that kid had one foot off this island from the moment he discovered the world didn’t end at these shores. And what did Joyce get out of it? The sweetest grandson ever, that’s what. Not that she deserves Benji. Or you, for that matter.”
Jessi looked up, met Sandy’s eyes, and made sure Sandy saw how much her words, her opinion—how much she mattered.
Sandy sniffed, fluffed at Jessi’s hair. “What do you think?”
Jessi took a critical look in the mirror, then lifted her gaze to Sandy’s and her lips in a smile. “I think I’m lucky to have any hair left at all.”
Chapter Four
H ey there, Jessi.”
“Hi, Mr. MacDonald.”
“Tomatoes on sale, just came in fresh yesterday.”
Which Jessi already knew, and since Maggie had brought them in by boat, along with the rest of the market’s fresh produce, Jessi already had a bowl of beautiful, ripe tomatoes in her refrigerator.
What she didn’t have was milk and eggs, and the fun of spending a half hour walking the market’s aisles, enjoying a simple task she usually had to rush through. Her budget meant she planned each week’s meals carefully and didn’t deviate from her list. She could have a little harmless fun leafing through a cookbook, though, take the time to imagine what it would be like to make some of the fancy recipes she saw the television chefs make—after a lot of cooking lessons.
For that matter, wouldn’t it be fun to watch a program from start to finish, and not while she folded laundry or dusted shelves or helped Benji with his homework. But that time would come, she reminded herself, and soon enough.
Benji would be off to college before she knew it, she thought with equal parts pride and sadness. Once he graduated, he’d likely take a job on the mainland somewhere, like all the young people did. Not that she blamed them; Windfall just didn’t offer enough in the way of opportunity.
Benji was smart as a whip; he’d want to do more than run a shop during tourist season or, if he stayed true to his current passion and learned to fly, squiring tourists and making mail runs. One thing she knew about her son, he would look for adventure. Windfall tended to be a lot of the same.
“What’s for supper?”
Jessi kept strolling, not all that surprised to hear Hold’s voice. And since it came from behind her, she found it better to keep her back turned while she absorbed the little jolt he always gave her.
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