Jennifer's Garden (20 page)

Jax’s jaw went slack.  Beads of sweat clustered heavy on his brow.  “Oh, no...”

“What’s worse, it shouldn’t have come to that.  I recommended she do the procedure months ago, but her family waited.”

“Why?”

Jennifer shook her head.  “I have no idea.  Her daughter wasn’t convinced, she wasn’t sure...”  She looked into his eyes, as though she’d find the answer there.  “I feel awful about it.”

“You’re not blaming yourself, are you?”

“Somewhat, yes.”  She gazed out over her yard and linked her arms together.  “It’s my job to convince her, isn’t it?”

“You did everything you could.  She’s alive, right?”

Jennifer nodded.

“She has you to thank for that.  Mike says you’re the best of the best.  She couldn’t have been in better hands.”

“She nearly died.  I should have insisted.  Long before it came to this, I should have insisted she have it done.”

“People have minds of their own, Jennifer and sometimes, as much as we’d like to change them, they have their own ideas for living.”

“Why anyone would wait?  With all the technology we have today, why would anyone risk sudden death?”  It was a concept she couldn’t wrap her mind around.

Jax pulled a couple of plastic buckets from the back of his truck and set them on the ground with a thud, upside down.  He lowered himself onto one and gestured for her to do the same.

She did.

He pulled a fresh cloth from his front pocket and wiped his forehead.  “People have their reasons, Jennifer.”

“What could they possibly be?  When they know a simple procedure could save their lives, why would they wait?”

“Maybe she was afraid.”  He pushed the cloth back into his pocket.  “There are risks associated with any surgical procedure, aren’t there?”

“Yes,” she answered, a hint of rancor to her voice, glancing at the ground.  “But they are minimal when weighed against an almost certain heart attack.  This family bet against the odds.  They had all the tools at their disposal and still, they bet against the odds.”

“I know what you mean.  But it still comes down to choice.”

“Irrational.”  She angled her shoulders away from him.  “It’s unacceptable.”

“I agree.”  Jax laced his fingers together and dropped forearms to his thighs.  “My mom lost the same gamble.”

Jennifer looked at him suddenly.  “What?”

Jax’s soft gaze settled on hers.  “She died of a heart attack.”

“Oh Jackson,
I’m so sorry
...”

He fixed his gaze on the back wall and replied, “Yeah.  It was a couple of years ago and like your patient, she knew the risks, knew what could happen if she did nothing, but she opted against them.  Because she was afraid.  More afraid of surgery than death.”  He turned to face her and Jennifer’s heart twisted.  “Needles and hospitals were never on her most favorites list.  Hell, I’m not even sure she believed the doctor when he told her she had to have it done.  Healthy her whole life, she barely missed a day of work.”  His voice dropped and he looked away.  “She thought I was an alarmist.”

Jennifer didn’t know what to say.

“She blamed stress.  Spent more time in her garden.  She called it therapy.  What it couldn’t cure, didn’t need curing, she used to say.  What would be, would be.”

He paused and Jennifer thought she detected tears in his eyes.  It was all she could do not to wrap an arm around his shoulders.  She folded them in her lap instead.

“I thought it selfish at the time.”

“Heart disease can be a silent killer, Jax.”  She had never used his nickname before, but it just felt right.  Straddling the line between professional and personal, she leaned toward him.  “Especially for women.  For some reason, they tend to put off their health problems.  They ignore important warning signs, especially when it comes to their heart.”

“Probably worrying too much about their families,” Jax said, an edge in his voice.  “My father had been battling ulcers at the time and instead of caring for herself, she catered to his every need.”

“Probably,” Jennifer agreed.  “Women have a way of doing that.”

He turned back to her, setting the palm of his hand to his knee.  “You wanna know the worst part?  She survived the heart attack, but died two days later in the hospital.  The place she most feared.  Spent her last forty-eight hours surrounded by strangers.”

“The damage must have been severe.”

“Yeah.  But it was her choice to wait and she wasn’t the kind of woman you pushed.  She did things her way, end of story.”

“That must have been hard on your father.”

“Maybe.”  He slapped both hands to his thighs and looked at her, his eyes no longer vulnerable.  “Look, the point is, there was nothing the doctor could have done to change the outcome.  Today you made a difference.  You saved a woman’s life.  Let that knowledge ease your heart a little.”

With that he stood.  “Listen, I’m sorry.”  He pointed toward the open holes of dirt by her bedroom.  “But I’ve got to get that done before I leave.  Tomorrow we plan to begin the bulk of the planting and Thursday the fountain for out front should be arriving.”

Jennifer rose in response.  Sitting here any longer would only prove awkward.  It was clear they had stumbled onto a sore spot for Jax and he didn’t want to talk anymore.

Which she understood.  Not only from a professional perspective, but personal as well.  A mother’s illness, death surrounded by strangers.  To love someone, yet be powerless to help...

It was a horrible burden to bear.  “Everything is coming along really well,” she offered, wanting to erase the hurt.  “I want you to know that I appreciate all your effort, and I’m sorry if I’ve been difficult.”  She shoved as much cheer as she could manage behind her smile.  “It means a lot.”

He sighed.  “You have nothing to apologize for, Jennifer.”

Odd she should feel relief, but she did.  “Thank you, Jackson,” she said, delivering the words more softly than she had intended.

“No problem.”  He smiled.  “Most of my friends call me Jax.”

Brushing a wayward strand of hair behind an ear, she repeated, “Jax.”  Saying his name aloud invoked a smile deeper than she felt comfortable, a mix of nerves and satisfaction mingling in her midsection.

Jax returned to his spot beneath the pergola and sliding hands into gloves, grabbed his shovel and began to dig.

Jennifer remained stationary, the humid air clinging to her skin.  They had connected, briefly, but the spell was breaking fast.  She hadn’t meant to resurrect his grief.  He had only been trying to help, but the memory of his mother’s death cut fresh wounds in his eyes, unearthing a hurt as raw as the day it happened.

Should she offer him some words of condolence?  Offer him some relief, like he had done her?  But one look at his rigid movements and it was clear:  he was finished.

It wasn’t her place to intrude.  He had opened up to her.  In his attempt to ease the burden of a difficult day, he had revealed a part of his past in hopes it would lessen her guilt.

But it had backfired on him.

He snapped closed tight as a clam the minute she mentioned his father.  Curious.  Grabbing her briefcase from her car, Jennifer hurried up her back steps.  Letting herself in the house, the cool air was a blast to her senses.  She closed the door, her hands remaining encircled around the knob behind her.  Filling her lungs with a deep breath, the gesture strained and uncomforting, she blew it out.  Sideways through the French door, she peered at his busy figure.  His motions seemed to have taken on urgency, his muscles working against the clock.

He wanted out of here, because of her.

She mulled over the situation, allowing her gaze to wander his physique.  Strong arms and legs, his body cut by hours of hard labor, his skin seemed kissed by the sun.  Today, even his hair looked in place.  Most likely matted down by sweat, but at least it looked more groomed.

She smiled at herself.  Like what she thought mattered.  The woman he was seeing probably fancied the wild hairdo.  At the hospital, she had begun to notice the style was actually trendy with the younger generation.  Her smile faded.  Not that she was old, but at thirty-six she wasn’t a kid anymore.  Her tastes had changed, as had her behavior.

Jennifer turned from the window and made way for the shower.  Leave the past alone, she warned herself.  Behind you, where it belongs.  She thwacked her forehead with tips of her fingers. 
Move on
.  Jennifer stopped suddenly as she entered her bedroom.  Jax was right outside her window.  On second thought, perhaps she needed a bite to eat.

Reversing direction, she headed toward the kitchen.  She opened the refrigerator, not feeling an ounce of hunger, then closed the door.  Perhaps a glass of red wine would do the trick.

Relax her mind, soothe her frayed nerves.  Normally she would opt for a jog, but with Jax out back, she didn’t want to leave.  Didn’t want to bother him but didn’t want to leave him.

Locating a corkscrew, she opened a Malbec and filled a glass half-full.  Ambling toward the sofa, one eye glancing through the back window, she settled down onto the sofa.  Sweeping one leg across the other, she watched him move in and out of her line of vision.  Sipping from her glass, she sank back into the cushions.

She savored the first swallow as it exploded across her tongue, swishing down her throat with an earthy blackberry plum finish.  “Hmmm...”  Usually a fan of the full-bodied Cabernet, she discovered this particular vintage while dining in a South American restaurant.  Sam had suggested the place and from wine to food, it had been an evening to remember.

Sam.  She’d have to call her.  The two hadn’t spoken since Aurelio’s opening and they needed to.  The episode had to be addressed.  Jennifer took another sip, relishing the bite of pepper mixing with the fruits as it passed over her taste buds, she worked to empty her mind of tension.  But she didn’t have to think about it right now.

Sipping again, her thoughts wandered back to Jackson.  Jax, she corrected with a smile.  After all, they were friends now.

Uncrossing her legs, she set them on the sofa table.  She glanced at the stereo clock.  Five-thirty and he was still hard at work.  She looked outside and caught sight of him dumping a bag of dirt over the newly-planted bougainvillea.

It wasn’t fair.  Her problem had become his problem and now he was working like a man with an ax to grind.  How could she make it up to him?  How could she set that grin of his back on track?

Glancing out once again, she noticed how the sun reflected across the pool, sprinkling the water with diamonds of light.  It occurred to her that it was still quite warm outside.  Hot, in fact.  She leaned forward with a rush of idea.

Chapter Seventeen

Maybe Jax is thirsty.  I could take him a glass of water she thought, and stood before the inspiration could pass.  Yes.  Unable to recall seeing a beverage around his workspace, she decided he needed one.  Wineglass in hand, she head to the kitchen.  She swung the refrigerator door open and plucked a bottle from the shelf.

She breezed outside onto the patio, pleased with her plan.  “I thought you might be thirsty, so I brought you some water.”  Leaning over the simple wood railing, she extended the bottle in hand.

He turned to find it at chest level.  “Thanks,” he said in surprise and reached out a gloved hand to take it from her.

Graciously, he remained mute about the thermos she spied sitting by his tool bucket.  “Is that the last one you have to plant?” she asked, indicating the lone vine of purple bougainvillea on the ground.

“Yep.”  He twisted the cap off the bottle.

“They really will look good out here, won’t they,” she said, not asking anything, simply intent on settling in for small talk.  She folded her arms atop the porch rail and leaned her body into them.  “Sort of a canopy of shade.”

“I think so.”  Jax took a deep swig of water, one eye remaining on Jennifer.  “Sheltered from the heat, it’ll be your own private courtyard overlooking the pool.”

Heat.  It was a bit humid out here.  Shade would be nice.  “I’ll have to shop for some lawn chairs to put out here.  Those seem a little dilapidated, now that you’ve fixed up the area.”

He chuckled.  “They do look a bit worn, don’t they?”

Bleached-out green plastic, most of the seats were cracked.  “They’re old,” she said, instantly feeling better about his improved disposition.  Whether he was being kind or actually felt relaxed, Jennifer found she cared little.  She only wanted him to smile.  “Do you have any suggestions?” she asked, hopeful for a new opening.  “What style do people normally choose for patios?”

“Stone, tile.  Teak is nice.  Wears well, and would blend nicely out here.”

“Teak,” she repeated, trying the idea on for size.  “Maybe some colorful cushions, a ceramic planter or two?”

“Now you’re talking.”  He donned a grin.  “But be careful,” he said, slyly.  “Don’t make it so nice you won’t want to return to the office!”

The word “office” had the potential to dampen her mission so she whisked past the reference with skilled aplomb.  “Forget the office—“  She straightened with a smack of her hands on the railing.  “I want to start looking forward to the weekends!”