Black Beans & Vice (22 page)

James absently picked up the spoon she handed him. "Available?"

"To take care of you, silly." She smiled at him. "I know you,
James. You'll work eight hours a day, help Jackson with his rehab,
continue to be the World's Best Father, and go to church every
Sunday." She sat across from him with her own bowl of chili. "And
that's too much for any mere mortal to handle. With that kind
of schedule, you won't be able to do laundry or clean the house
or stock your fridge. Whatever energy you have left will be spent
driving up to see us, so I think Eliot and I should live here over the
summer, if that's okay with you."

The fear and worry that had been holding James hostage for
the last twenty-four hours eased their grip. He stared across the
table at his ex-wife in wonder. "I thought you were teaching two
courses this summer."

"They're online courses. My summer students are actually working adults and with their busy schedules, courses via computer are
what they want. This way, they can work toward their degree without having to appear physically on a college campus." She took a bite
of chili and gestured for James to do the same. "So all I need is my
laptop and a few hours of quiet in order to post lectures and do my
grading. It's perfect really. I get to spend more time with my favorite
men. Three months of bliss."

James took a bite of his dinner and groaned. "This chili is bliss!
No wonder Eliot has converted to vegetarianism so easily. Shoot,
I could give up meat if you cooked for me like this." He spent a
moment savoring the taste of black beans, garlic, onions, and fresh
cilantro in a tomato base. Then, he scooted back his chair, walked
around to Jane's side of the table, and leaned over to kiss her.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair. "For the chili, for being
willing to upend your life to be near me, and for the way you make
me believe everything will turn out okay."

Jane wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss
with passionate tenderness. "I love you too. So very much."

Later, after they'd cleaned up the kitchen, James took Jane's
hand and led her down the hall to the master bedroom.

"I can rub your back until you fall asleep," Jane offered as she
pulled back the covers. "You must be exhausted."

James flopped on the bed as though he was too weary to move,
but at her words, he sat up, grabbed her around the waist and
pulled her on top of him. "I'd have to be half-dead to fall right
asleep with you here, lying next to me." He slid his palms over the
soft curves of her hips and murmured, "Besides, I want to show
you just how grateful I am to have you here. Tonight and for many
nights to come."

"That sounds like a good deal to me," Jane replied huskily,
stretched out her arm, and switched off the lamp.

James went back to work the next day and did his best to concentrate on his usual tasks. He phoned Milla every few hours to ask
after his father, but there hadn't been much of a change since the
previous day. Jackson could barely speak and had lost the use of
his left arm and leg. The medical staff told Milla that it was too
early to tell how permanent those disabilities were, and added that
they were unlikely to ever voluntarily discharge him if she continued to bring them such succulent baked goods.

"His vision is fine, so that's a blessing," she told him. "And we're
able to talk in our own way. Your daddy's never really had a flapping tongue, so I blab away and he grunts and nods. It's not too
different from our regular conversations," she added lightly.

Pleased that Milla sounded both rested and hopeful, James
asked if she wanted him to check in on Willow.

"She can handle Quincy's Whimsies as well as I can," Milla answered. "In fact, she'd been hinting for weeks that I should take a vacation, so now I'm taking one! I'm planning to read The Jungle Book
to your father. He's never heard the story and it's been more years
than I care to recall since I have, so we'll take a sort of literary safari.
One of the nurses told me reading aloud is good for stroke patients."

"A well-written tale is as curative as homemade chicken soup,"
James agreed. "I'll be in after work to see Pop. And Milla, don't you
worry about mowing the lawn or taking the trash to the street. I'll
do all of that this weekend."

Milla clucked her tongue. "And I plan to stockpile your freezer,
so don't you fret about your meals."

"Just keep on baking for the nurses. I've got my own personal
chef these days." James told Milla about Jane and Eliot moving
down for the summer. Milla squealed in delight. "It'll do your
daddy a world of good to have Eliot filling the house with energy
and chatter. Jackson'll want to get better just so he can play with
him again. Oh, I've gotta run. Dr. Scrimpshire's here to check on
our favorite patient."

After hanging up, James spent the rest of his lunch hour helping Fern hang a collection of photographs on the walls surrounding the tech corner. Once the last framed print was in place, James
stood back and admired the results.

"These are fantastic, Fern. You're really talented." He pointed
at a photograph of a carpet of multicolored autumn leaves. "This
one's my favorite." Turning to look at the four photos mounted
on the wall behind him, he added, "But the close-up of the purple rhododendron, I've got to have that one for Jane. She'd love to
hang that in her office."

Fern blushed. "Scott made me a website already. It's beautiful.
He used that photo as the frame for the home page. You were right
when you said that he was good with computers."

James studied Fern's bio, which had been fastened with thumbtacks alongside a series of photographs showing the Blue Ridge
Mountains during each season. Taken from one of the scenic
lookouts on the Blue Ridge Parkway, the photographs captured
the beauty of the wilderness. The pine trees in the valley that were
draped in capes of snow in the winter scene were just as lovely as
the towers of dried brown needles serving as a contrast to the brilliant gold, orange, and crimson leaves of the hardwoods in the fall.
Taking advantage of his time alone with the young woman, James
said breezily, "I think Scott has a bit of a crush on you.,,

Fern sighed. "I like him too. It's just, well, I have feelings for
another guy, a fellow artist. Until I can sort out exactly what those
feelings are, I'm trying really hard to just be a friend and coworker
to Scott. Still, the more time I spend with him..."

The young woman's expression was anguished. "These things
are rarely easy. Take it from me," James told her. "I've made two or
three lifetime's worth of romantic gaffes."

The relationship theme had him thinking of how wonderful it
had been to wake up to the sound of his alarm that morning and
to find Jane lying beside him, her hair fanned out over the pillow and her arm splayed out over the edge of the bed. He'd stared at
her lovely face as long as he could and then showered as quietly as
possible so as not to wake her. He hadn't succeeded however, for
when he stepped out of the bathroom to get dressed, her side of
the bed was vacant. She was waiting for him in the kitchen with
breakfast, a steaming cup of coffee, and a warm kiss.

"It's hard to imagine your making a serious mistake. You seem
like someone who has it all figured out," Fern remarked shyly.

James nodded and smiled. "Maybe I finally do. You see, after all
this time, I'm still in love with the first girl I ever loved. It's exhilarating, because she feels the same way, but it can be a little scary
too. Once you've figured out what's important in life, you want
to do anything in your power to hold onto what you've got." He
glanced back at the seasonal photographs of the mountains. "But
your work has given me a terrific idea. Go ahead and put me down
for that entire series. Those photographs are going to help me secure my future."

"All four of them? Thanks!" Fern beamed. "I've got to tell Scott
I've made my first sale from this exhibit!"

Grabbing her gently by the elbow before she rushed off, James
said, "If he's the one you run to when you've got big news, then
you really care about him. Just don't leave him hanging too long,
okay? He's not like one of these prints, Fern. That young man is an
original."

At five o'clock, James trotted down the library steps, intending
to hop in the Bronco and speed north to the hospital. Lucy was
waiting for him by his truck, holding a cardboard box filled with food with one hand and her cell phone in the other. When she saw
James, she pocketed the phone.

"Your fellow supper club members have made enough food to
see you through at least six meals. We didn't know what else to do."
She pushed her sunglasses onto the crown of her head and gazed
at him with concern. "How is Jackson?"

James thanked her and gave an abbreviated version of his father's condition as he loaded the goodies into his truck.

"I haven't had a chance to tell you about my little chat with
Murphy," Lucy rubbed at a grease spot on her uniform shirt and
then gave James a crooked smile. "She was pretty cagey when we
chatted in The Sweet Tooth. Even Megan Flowers said she's never
seen Murphy grab her croissant and run like she did when I asked
her what she'd been up to Sunday evening."

Rubbing his temples, James frowned. "If Murphy is the note's
author, what could she expect to gain? She's smart enough to
know that I'd do anything to keep Jane and Eliot safe. This whole
thing has only brought us closer."

Lucy looked thoughtful. "Maybe she wants to create stress between you and Jane. It's hard for you to protect your family when
you live in separate towns, so Murphy might be using the fear and
anxiety created by the threatening notes and creepy dead birds as a
way to drive a wedge between you."

"Lord knows I'm stressed," James admitted. "But if she thought
this crazy behavior would cause a rift between Jane and me, she's
dead wrong. In fact, Jane and Eliot will be living with me this summer." An angry flare ignited in his brown eyes. "And no one will
hurt my family. They'll have to get past me first!"

Lucy touched James on the arm. "Sullie and I will continue to
do drive-bys until this weirdness is nothing but a distant memory.
Let's just hope that when Murphy sees the three of you around
town over the next few weeks, she'll realize there is nothing she
can do to keep you apart."

She opened her mouth to say something further, but Francis
came bounding down the library steps as though the building
were on fire. Spotting James in the parking lot, he raised his hand.
"Professor! Wait!"

James stiffened, bracing himself for bad news. Francis was rarely
rattled, but now the young man's face was drawn and his pupils
were tiny black dots of shock. "It's your wife ... I mean, your ex-wife.
It's Jane!" he blurted all in one breath. "She said something about
the crazy note writer and that he went after Eliot. She's really upset
and wants to speak to you right away!"

Francis hadn't even finished his sentence when James began to
run. Lucy was only a second behind. "Where is Eliot?" she shouted.

"In Harrisonburg," James answered, taking the stairs two at a
time.

"Then it's not Murphy," Lucy said, holding open the lobby
door. She raced behind James into his office. "I saw her at Dolly's
Diner during lunch and again a few minutes ago at the Wellness
Village."

"Whoever it is-if they've hurt my son..." James grabbed the
receiver and lifted it to his ear. He barely recognized his own voice;
it sounded as though a stranger spoke Jane's name.