Past Due (5 page)

Just a few pictures, then she would be done. She took a deep breath and told herself that she was being absolutely ridiculous, she was an adult now; she shouldn’t be acting like this over a boy…even if he looked…forget it. She laid her hands alongside her nose and breathed through her cupped hands until her racing heart slowed enough for her to still her shaking. She pulled her camera out of her bag and set the aperture and lighting meter. Squaring her shoulders and assuring herself she had on her big girl pants, she braced herself to survive a meeting with Tres Coulter one last time.

She left the building and walked purposefully across the lawn. The temptation to bolt for her car and run away from this nightmare frustrated her. Be an adult, she reminded herself. She kept a safe distance and took plenty of shots of him while he worked, so as not to be an intrusion. Capturing an ample amount of good shots with the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse in the background and certain that he desired candid shots, not portraits, she finished with her heart still on one piece. Tres gathered with a few of the workers and seemed engrossed in what they were saying. Quickly approaching Russ while Tres was distracted, she said, “I’ve got lots of good shots, Russ. I’ll e-mail them to Esther and she can forward them to Mr. Coulter. I’ve got a busy day scheduled, so I’m going to scoot.”

“Stick around, Jenna, he’s not so bad.”

“Please, Russ. Not you too?”

“I like him. And he keeps lookin’ over his shoulder ... I think he’s watchin’ for ya.”

“I’m too old for these kinds of games. Besides, Esther sort of caught me between obligations this morning.” Jenna didn’t mention one of the obligations was to get even more of the same pictures for Lois. She said nothing of it because she had absolutely no intention of sticking around as Tres Coulter lurked in the same atmosphere. “Be good, Russ. Don’t you try to fix me up too.”

Russ nodded, and Jenna gave him a smile. Turning toward her car, it suddenly seemed miles away and Tres’s presence threatened to overwhelm her. Just knowing he was nearby, somewhere, made her heart beat erratically, and she felt winded as if she jogged to her car instead of walked. He’d be gone soon. She just needed to get out of here ... right now. Lengthening her stride, she breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the black top. But only steps away from escape, a deep smooth voice in her ear knocked her off kilter. “Have a cup of coffee with me, Jenna?”

Jenna jumped and dropped her keys on the ground. She bent over to pick them up and righting herself, she found him leaning against the door of her car.

She tapped her foot on the pavement, “I just had coffee.” Didn’t he notice the big coffee stain on her shirt?

“Then have a soda, lunch, anything. I just want to spend a few minutes with you. To talk to you.” He reached out and took her cool, trembling hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’d only take a minute. Jenna, I need some answers. I just want to talk to you, nothing more.”

Jenna’s eyes narrowed and she jerked her hand from his grip as if it burned. “I have an appointment, so, if you don’t mind, I have to go.”

Tres closed his eyes briefly as if he needed a moment to compose his thoughts or steady his patience. He opened his eyes and offered, “Agree to meet me later and I’ll move.”

Jenna judged his resolve. The Tres she knew was stubborn as a mule and she didn’t know if the quality had changed, but she didn’t want to challenge him under the likely watchful eyes of Esther and probably Russ too. “A bit childish ... but all right.”

Tres moved seemingly pleased to have already won the battle.

Jenna got in her rental car, started the engine and shoved the gear into reverse.

“Well,” he said, leaning into the open window, “when can I meet you?”

“When pigs sprout wings and cross the Atlantic,” she said and immediately gunned the engine, spraying up rocks and sand.

Tres leaped backward. “What the hell?”

The car sped down the sand-covered road, skidding on the final turn.

***

He stood alone in the parking lot for several minutes, hands on hips, head shaking. He was the one who had the right to be angry…not her. Esther said she was single, but maybe “single” meant the vast degrees of separated or divorced with complicating circumstances. Maybe Jenna couldn’t talk to him because of Jake. But hell, why not just say that? Why treat him like he had the plague?

“Sad to say it, but that don’t surprise me much. Don’t take it personal son,” Russ said, joining him in the parking lot.

He slowly turned to him and admitted with a shake of his head, “Don’t know if I’ll ever understand women, Russ. Especially that one. She damn near ran me over.”

“Don’t feel too bad, son. Jenna shoots ‘em all down. Hasn’t dated since her husband died, oh, ‘bout seven, eight years ago.” Russell looked down the empty road, rubbed his chin and said, “Jenna? She’s a nice girl, and right pretty, but she ain’t got no use for a beau.”

“Jake’s dead?” Tres blurted, and then said with a little more reverence, “That’s a shame.”

Russ shook his head and frowned. “Yeah, you seem right torn up.”

Tres stared at Russell a moment then shrugged. “Can’t lie to you, Russ. I never liked Jake Austin. And I cannot for the life of me figure out why she married him.”

“Been plenty of people around these parts wonder the same thing.”

“If Jenna would just talk to me...” Tres wondered aloud. “If she’d just give me a minute to talk to her. She acts like she’s mad at me.”

Russell shrugged.

“Austin probably lied to her. Hard to tell what he had to say to weasel his way into her life,” Tres reasoned.

“He was known to be a scoundrel, but he was a nice boy. Plenty of ladies found him charming.” Tres scowled. Russ explained, “Just being honest with ya boy. He was good lookin’. Girls liked him.”

“Then why’d their marriage cause such a stir?”

“Cause of the timing…but that’s a whole nother long story. Then of course, there’s the way Jake acted after the marriage…that was plenty enough reason to set tongues to wagging…”

“Acted how?”

“I shouldn’t say, son. Wrong to speak ill of the dead. I s’pose it’s safe to say, Jenna put up with a lot of foolishness. Did she do it cause she loved him? Or cause she had the boy? Or maybe cause she didn’t have nobody but him and Maureen? She’s always been damned close to her mother-in-law. Still is to this day. Hell, nobody knows the real answers but the girl herself and she ain’t talkin’ to nobody.”

Tres’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. “Well, before I leave here I plan to know exactly what happened. I won’t let her get away so easily this time.”

“Well, now, son,” Russ said, chuckling. “You may be barking up an empty tree. You’re a handsome young man and, under most circumstances, I’d wager you’d win over most any lady you set your mind to.” He paused to light a cigarette. “But when Jenna’s involved in the bet? I’d have to keep my money safe in my pocket. The only thing Jenna seems to shy from more than a date is interference in her business. Not only will you not get the girl, I doubt you’ll get a thread of a tale from her either. She moved down here from Kitty Hawk when she married Jake, so she’s been in this town for more than a decade and not a one of us knows much about her. Goes to church, works hard, and takes care of her boy. Hell, none of us even know where her or her dad came from before he took over Wright Baptist up in Kitty Hawk. And speaking of her dad, she don’t even talk to him no more. They live five miles apart, but act like total strangers. Hell, I’d reckon there ain’t a body around who knows much of anything.” He clapped Tres on the back with the hand holding the cigarette, “Jenna’s different son. I don’t think she wants to bothered with a man. She is an artist, you know? They can be a bit weird sometimes.”

“She owes me an explanation. She can hide from every other soul on earth, but she owes me.” Tres looked down the road where she disappeared moments before. It made no sense and his pride told him to forget about her, but he had to know, why was she doing this?

“Why waste your time with a girl who don’t want to be bothered by you?”

Tres thought a moment over Russ’ words. Russ was right. Knowing why wouldn’t change the fact that she had in the end chosen to marry Jake Austin when she could have been with him. Why didn’t really matter. He slowly nodded and turned from the road and began the walk back to the building. “Guess you’re right. I suppose it’s best to stick to the easy things in life….like moving two hundred foot piles of bricks.”

Russ laughed and gave him a warm pat on the back. “Come on, son, we’ll finish up here and then I’m gonna take you to Chester Grover’s for lunch. He’s roasting some blue crab he caught last night and turnin’ it into chowder…mmm, mmm…ain’t nobody who cooks like Chester…though don’t tell my missus. Then later on, you’re gonna meet the boys and me at the Lonnie’s sports bar. We got the whole place closed down just for us. We’re even sneaking in liquor. Don’t mention that to the missus either. The light’s moved and we changed history. Now we’re celebrating a brand new beginning…and it’ll take your mind off Jenna.”

Tres snorted and shook his head, but said nothing more on the matter.

Chapter
4

Mind spinning with thoughts she’d rather block, Jenna was deeply grateful the drive to Milo and Connie’s was short. Standing on their front porch, her hands shook and her heart raced as she fumbled with the key. She stopped and took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down so she could simply open a door.

She swung it open and went directly to the nursery because she needed to work, needed to focus on something besides the past. She wasn’t so pathetic and lonely as to sit and brood over how the mere sight of him electrified her as much as it infuriated her. Have lunch with him? Never. Their past could never be as easy as water under the bridge– it went over and through the bridge, sweeping it downstream in a torrent that smashed and twisted it, leaving no resemblance to its former being.

But Jenna knew better than anyone else that intention and reality were often at odds. She planned to work. Instead she sat in the wicker rocker in the corner of the room and allowed her traitorous mind to brood.

Rarely did she visit the past, but as she rocked back and forth, back and forth in the quiet room, she couldn’t stop herself from remembering a time when being with Tres felt like it was the most natural state of being life had to offer. When she held his hand, it didn’t feel foreign, but rather an extension of herself.

“Trust me, Jenna. I love you.” These words were the silken cords he used to bind her rendering her defenseless against him.

But not anymore.

Jenna sprang from the chair and wiped at the tears that rolled down her cheeks. “Lying little prick,” she said to the empty house. She stomped to the bathroom. The tear stained face before her made her cringe; the smeared mascara made her look and feel like a clown. Turning the handle, she waited for the water to warm. As her fingers dipped in and out, she decided she wasn’t a fool for crying. She’d earned the salt value of each and every tear. She survived the lies and smashed dreams of Tres Coulter. And if, in this moment of weakness...no, not weakness…in this moment of reflection…if the scoundrel brought back the nasty “remember whens”, then she owed it to herself to purge the pain with a few tears. 

She had a good life. A life blessed with so much. Like…like…a crippled car, a home threatened by rising costs and second hand furniture, work that left her broke and worn out, and a completely loveless existence.

She was miserable. Her life was miserable. She truly had nothing. She was pathetic. Tanner was right.

Tanner.

She had Tanner. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.

Yes, she was a good mother who was rewarded with a wonderful son. Partially lifted from the clutches of defeat, she unrolled enough paper to blot her eyes and blow her nose.

She’d cried long enough. It was time to stand up straight and go on. She tossed the tissue in the trash, washed her face, and told herself she felt better. Assured herself she was still strong. Today, this cry, this upheaval– it was an exception. She dealt with him fine yesterday. Today, she was just moody after a night without sleep. He hadn’t truly affected her. Hadn’t made her spin toward him like a compass to magnetic north. She was just worn out.

Her energy stoked, Jenna began working in a fury. She painted the walls pink, the furniture white and yellow, and added pink and yellow lace and ribbons to the once plain white curtains. Bits of fabric sewn to the comforter bloomed into vibrant JoBells, or gaillardias, to mainlanders. Once the walls were dry, she created a mural with a white doe timidly peeking out of a piney wood. The legend of the white doe symbolized Virginia Dare, the first white child born in America. She was, according to local lore, born somewhere on the land Jenna now called home. It was a fitting theme for a native island girl. Moving and shoving furniture, she placed and replaced every last item until each and every piece satisfied her artist’s eye.

Glancing out the window, a black sky greeted her. Suddenly realizing she had worked well over twelve hours, her back started to ache. She stretched trying to remove the kinks and then stepped into the doorway to survey her handiwork. Normally, a rush of satisfaction would bring her pride in a job well done, but not tonight.

Fearing another pity party coming on, she scurried from the room and marched to the kitchen. It wasn’t like her to root through someone else’s fridge, but all her work left her parched and she never adjusted to the flavor of the island tap water unless it was well chilled. Standing in the cold glow, Jenna spotted a four pack of wine coolers. Milo was a beer-only guy, so the wine coolers were Connie’s and she wouldn’t be drinking them any time soon. Jenna jotted a quick “I owe you” and propped it against the cardboard holder in the fridge, pulling two of the bottles out. She slid them into the pockets of her hooded sweatshirt and headed out of the house, locking the door behind her.