By Proxy (11 page)

“No, Sam. They’re fine. I promise.”

“Then come sit with me and have some breakfast.” He gestured to the empty seat across from him. “And if you want, I’ll tell you all about Pepper.”

Burning cheeks. Wounded pride. Repentant heart.

She sat. There was nothing else to do.

***

Jenny, Jenny.
He glanced over at her as they shared breakfast, sipping coffee in the silence of her kitchen. She looked young and miserable, occasionally taking a small bite of egg or bacon.
This is the most alive I’ve felt in years. Like waking up after sleeping for way too long.

“So…” He began after polishing off half the omelet and several pieces of crispy cheap pig. “Do you want to know about Pepper or not?”

“Okay.” She nodded. She picked at her bacon distractedly, Sam noticed, and she didn’t meet his eyes. He wasn’t a fan of mopey Jenny. He was anxious to dispense with Pepper’s story and get on with their day.

“Her name’s really Penelope. I work at an investment firm and schmoozing is pretty important to my boss.”

“Schmoozing?” she interrupted, finally looking up.

“You know, taking clients out to over-the-top dinners, going to galas to rub elbows with millionaires, that sort of thing.” She nodded and he continued. “So my boss had two tickets to a fundraiser at the Chicago Cultural Center. He couldn’t go at the last minute and asked me to go. I didn’t have a date and he suggested that his niece, Penelope, who was supposed to be going with him, could just as well go with me. I didn’t put two and two together until she met me there and I realized the girl from ‘What’s the Weather? With Pepper’ and my boss’s niece Penelope were one and the same. We had a great time at the gala and started dating.”

“She’s perfect, Sam. Beautiful. And the burned children…” Jenny looked at him so earnestly, looking so miserable, with such vulnerability etched on her face his heart clenched with tenderness.

“Jenny. Those are just pictures. Pepper Pettway is really beautiful. You’re right. She is. But with her, the beauty is skin deep, and no deeper. Those burned children? She read three sentences of a story while the camera was flashing, then marched out of there to get her nails done a minute after the reporter left. I doubt those poor kids will ever find out what happened to the grumpy puppy.” He sipped his coffee, pushing his plate away.

Jenny seemed unconvinced. “She seems so selfless, helping with so many fundraisers and good causes.”

“She was an honorary member on most of those committees.” He noted her puzzled expression and continued, “Someone whose name goes on the invitation because they’re a public figure, but who does nothing to contribute to the event aside from showing up and having her picture taken for publicity.”

“With you.”

Ah, Jen. You’re killing me with these searching blue eyes. I want to hold you and kiss all of that uncertainty away. But I know what would comfort me wouldn’t comfort you…

“Sure. Sometimes. When we were together. Now, I’m sure it’s someone else. And you know what? Good riddance.” He knew his tone was hard as he said this and his eyes narrowed. But damn it, Pepper wasn’t one of his favorite conversation topics and certainly one he wouldn’t have volunteered with Jenny.

“Let me make this clear to you so we can please go build a Christmas booth for your school. Here’s the deal. Almost two months ago, a week after that picture was taken, I was in a car accident. A hit-and-run.”

Jenny gasped and reached across the table for his hand. He was stunned by her impulsive gesture and sensed she was too, but she didn’t release his hand immediately. Yes, she colored pink, but instead of drawing back, she allowed him to curl his fingers around her hand and hold it. He stared at their joined hands then turned his gaze back to her face.

“Jenny—”

“Go on. Hit-and-run.”

Get your thoughts together. You’re just holding hands, for heaven’s sake! Talk about a role reversal. You’re getting as bad as her!

He cleared his throat. “Umm…so, I was in a hit-and-run, and when the other car left, I was bleeding from my forehead and it hurt to breathe. The ambulance came, and the EMTs couldn’t be sure whether or not I had a concussion, but they were pretty sure I had cracked or bruised a rib, so they took me to the hospital. Anyway, I called Pepper from the ambulance to tell her what had happened. We had plans that night to go to a charity dinner and I knew she’d be upset to miss it, but I was sure she’d come to me. I mean, we’d been dating for more than a year.”

Jenny squeezed his hand gently. “Go ahead.”

“So the hours ticked by, and she didn’t show up. I didn’t call my folks or my sisters. I didn’t want to worry them. No concussion, just a cracked rib that would heal on its own after a few weeks.” He decided not to add that things had been strained with his mother and sisters with Pepper in the picture. The women in his family weren’t big fans of Pepper. Without them coming right out and saying they disapproved of her, Sam still perceived their opinion of her loud and clear. “I was asleep when she finally got there.”

He would never forget her sweeping onto his hospital floor after visiting hours, dressed to the nines, soused from champagne. She had woken him up from a deep sleep as she made a drunken scene with the nurses about how her future husband was wounded and needed her, and, “Screw visiting hours,
don’t you know who I am
?”

Security had finally made her leave. Truth be told, less of a knockout might have been arrested for such behavior, but Pepper had her charms. He had cringed listening to her from his hospital bed, and his stomach curdled, horrified by the words “future husband.”

“She had gone to the benefit with a friend of mine, an associate at work, and came by the hospital when it was over. She explained later that she had a new dress and didn’t want it to go to waste. And you know? I just decided then and there she wasn’t the girl for me. So we broke up. About two months ago.”

He remembered the morning he’d broken up with Pepper.

“You think you’re going to find someone better than me?” she’d shrieked at him with furious green eyes, her perfectly manicured fingernails digging into her slim, taut hips. “You don’t know what you want!”

He’d stared back her, surprised that he agreed with her and thinking:
Just because I know what I
don’t
want doesn’t mean I’ve found what I
do
want
. All he’d known for sure was that Pepper wasn’t right for him.

Now it occurred to him: He’d wanted something more like what his parents shared, something good and real. What he’d had with Pepper had mostly just been status and noise.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth lightly across the soft pad of skin at the base of Jenny’s thumb, thinking about how much he’d like to pull her into his arms and kiss her. He’d like to watch her eyes close as his lips moved closer to hers, pressing softly down on them, running his hands through her silky blonde hair as he pressed her more intimately against his body.

His eyes flicked to the spice wheel covered with different peppers and the omelets still sitting on a platter. Something sort of amazing occurred to him, and he decided to take a chance, whispering, “You had nothing to be jealous about.”

When he looked up, she nodded and offered him a small but open smile. To his delight, she didn’t turn scarlet or purple or rush to contradict him, and once again he was captivated by the honesty of her reaction.

After a moment, she withdrew her hand gently, squeezing his before she pulled hers away. “How did you stay so calm yesterday? I mean, I would think seeing someone else in an accident so soon after yours would—”

“I was worried about you. I was focused on you.”

She smiled at him with such tenderness, his heart leapt in his chest. “How’s your rib now?”

“Right this minute?”
My heart’s hammering the hell out of it, Jen.
“Just fine. All healed up.”

“I’m glad you’re not with her anymore. I’m so sorry she wasn’t there for you when you needed her. I’m so sorry you were hurt and alone.”

How does she keep doing this, cradling my heart in her hands?
He knew how much it had taken for her to reach out and hold his hand, but she had done it, in spite of her reservations. Comforting him was more important to her than feeling comfortable herself. Once again, he was humbled by her selflessness.

Her face looked nervous, and she swallowed before continuing. “I owe you an apology.”

“Nah, I’m flattered. Anyway you make a mean omelet, Jenny. It’s okay.”

She looked at him soberly and held his eyes uncompromisingly. “Sam, I owe you an apology. I thought you were attempting to dally with me while you were away from your girlfriend, but you’ve done nothing in the short time I’ve known you to lead me to believe you are the sort of man who would do something wrong like that. And yet I jumped to that conclusion after looking at a few pictures on Google. I do that sometimes, rush to judgment. It’s a bad habit of mine and I am just so sorry and so embarrassed.

“And I…I also just want to say, I sure would understand if you’d like to just be left alone for the rest of the weekend. You don’t have to help me today. I can get Nils to come help me. I don’t deserve your help.” She said her piece then released his eyes with a single nod.

Standing up, she gathered the dishes and put them in the sink, giving Casey the solitary piece of leftover bacon.

Man, she is brave.
Most of the men he knew, hell, most of the
people
he knew wouldn’t have offered up an apology that thorough and that sincere. She took it on the chin, that’s for sure. He suddenly thought of Jenny as a little girl, being raised alongside three older brothers. No doubt she sat in on all of the life-lessons they would have had about courage and integrity and standing up for themselves throughout childhood.
She’s strong like that. She’s tough.

Then again
, he thought as he watched her at the sink washing up the breakfast dishes,
she’s all woman too
. She had her white shirt rolled up to her elbows and he could see the skin on her forearms was still holding on to a summer tan against the white of the shirt. He moved his eyes lower to her waist and hips, but sadly her curves were concealed by the boyish cut of the jeans on her hips. However, lower still and—
hallelujah!
—the opposite was true of her backside, which was cupped to perfection by the soft, molded denim which showed every pert curve.
No way she was putting up that booth with Nils today, whoever the hell he was. Screw Nils. No way.

“Hey, Jen.”

She turned to face him from the sink where her arms were elbow-deep in suds. “Mmm?”

“I know you may think an urban Chicago playboy isn’t fit for hard work, but you’re not getting rid of me that easy—”

“No, I just—”

“You just didn’t think I could cut the mustard.”

“No! I think you can! I just—”

“You just think I’m a man who welches on deals he makes?”

“No, Sam! I just didn’t want you to feel like you owed me anything!”

“But, I do,” he responded, eyes twinkling. “We had a deal and I broke it. I owe you a booth.”

It dawned on her that he had just teased her into accepting his help again, but it still didn’t feel right. “Okay. You owe me a booth for too much teasing. I accused you of infidelity. What do I owe you?”

He beamed at her. “I could use a date for the Stroll tonight.”

Chapter 6

After breakfast, Sam and Jenny made their way from her apartment to Gardiner High School, which was a short walk down Main Street toward the river, over the bridge, and a right turn onto Stone Street, where they approached the campus through the empty Saturday parking lot.

Sam wasn’t impressed with the relatively small, squat, brown-brick public building before him, but he stopped walking abruptly, staring gape-mouthed at a herd of about a dozen bison grazing on the football field between two goal posts as they approached.

“Are…are those…?”

Jenny stopped walking and nodded, smiling at Sam. “Bison. They wreak havoc on that field every year, but it gets fixed in the spring.”

“How often does this happen?”

She shrugged. “Couple times a week. Especially when it’s cold. The building throws off heat. Not that they need it, but it melts the fields faster around here and they can graze.”

She tugged on his coat sleeve. “Come on, Greenhorn, we’ve got work to do.”

She unlocked the front door of the school and he stepped in behind her, the old, familiar smell common to every high school in America surrounding him, making him feel fifteen again.

She chuckled at him. “The smell, right? Everyone says that.”

“You forget. It’s really evocative.”

“Good or bad?”

“Mmm. Good, I guess. I liked high school well enough.” He followed her down the hall, toward the main office.

“Did you do any sports?”

“Yeah. Lacrosse in the spring. I played a little hockey but mostly sat on the bench.”

She looked back at him, raising an eyebrow, and he sensed she was trying not to smile. “That must have hurt.”

“Frankly, would have hurt a lot more to be smashed into the boards on the ice. Is hockey big here?”

“Not as big as Minnesota, but all the kids skate. You know, on lakes and ponds and such. You can’t grow up in Montana without learning how.”

He nodded. “I believe that.”

They passed the main office, and Jenny paused, glancing in. “There’s a light on. I wonder if Paul’s here.”

“Paul?” he asked, following her into the office.

“Our principal.”

The main office was quiet where two secretaries would probably sit at the two empty desks situated behind a long counter covered with piles of paper. Jenny knocked lightly at a door that had light pouring out of the bottom. The sign on the door read, YOUR PRINCIPAL IS YOUR PAL. Sam rolled his eyes.

A cheerful voice boomed from behind the door. “Come on in!”

Jenny pushed open the door and a good-looking young man stood up from his seat behind the desk, breaking into a beaming smile. Sam guessed his age at about thirty. Tall and blond, with an athletic, well-built body and an engaging smile totally directed at Jenny, he was dressed sharply in light khakis and a crisp blue and white gingham dress shirt, which was rolled up casually mid-forearm to reveal a light smattering of blond hair on a corded arm. His eyes met Jenny’s easily and held them, before noticing Sam behind her. His expression cooled appreciably.