One Summer

52

Jenna looked up from the counter at the Little Bit to see Jack standing there.

She smiled. “I heard the kids had a fabulous time.”

“Yeah, Mikki’s still gushing about it.”

“You want something to eat? Steak sandwich is the special.”

“No, I’m good. Look, I was wondering if you had time tonight for some dinner.”

Jenna came from behind the counter to stand next to him.

“Dinner? Sure. What did you have in mind? Not here. Even I get sick of the menu.” She smiled and then turned serious. “Hey, I can cook for you.”

“I don’t want you to have to do that.”

“I love to cook. It’s actually therapeutic. But you’ll have to be my sous chef.”

“What does that mean?”

“Slicing and dicing mostly.”

“I can do that. But can you get away from this place?”

“For one night, yes. Practically runs itself these days, and my number one son will be here, along with your daughter. I don’t think they even need me anymore. Say around seven thirty?”

“Okay, great.”

“Anything in particular you want to talk about?”

“A lot of things.”

When Jack got to Jenna’s house that night, music was on, wine was poured, and scented candles were lit.

“Don’t be freaked out by any of this,” she said as she ushered him in. “I just like to be comfortable. I’m not going all Sex and the City on you.” She eyed him. “You look nice.”

He looked down at his new pair of jeans, his pressed white collared shirt, and a pair of pristine loafers that were pinching his feet. Then he looked at her. She had on a yellow sundress with a scalloped front and was barefoot.

“Not as nice as you,” he replied. “And can I go barefoot too? These new shoes are killing me.”

When he looked at her feet, she smiled. “You go for it. When I was a kid, my mom had to force me to wear shoes. Loved the feel of the grass on my feet. I think one reason I moved to the Deep South is because not many people wear shoes down here.”

She led him into the kitchen and pointed to a cutting board and a pile of vegetables and tomatoes next to it. “Your work awaits.”

Jack chopped and sliced while Jenna moved around the kitchen preparing the rest of the meal.

“So you like to cook?”

“I actually wanted to do it professionally.”

“But you became a lawyer instead?”

“Yep, it was one of those crazy zigzags that life takes. When Liam was older, I took culinary classes. Then when I was thinking about changing careers, running a restaurant seemed a nice fit. The Little Bit’s menu is limited, but I’ve made every dish on it.” She slid a pan of chicken into the oven. “And at home is where I really get to impress people.”

“I’m looking forward to being impressed, then.”

An hour later they sat down to eat. After a few bites, Jack raised his glass of wine in tribute to her skills in the kitchen. “I’m not exactly an expert, but this is great.”

She clinked her glass against his. “I’m sure it was all due to how you sliced and diced the veggies.”

“Yeah, right.”

She put her glass down and eyed him. “Okay, do we talk about things now or with dessert and coffee?”

“How about after dessert and coffee?”

“Why?”

He looked sheepish. “Because I’m having a great time.”

“And you think what you want to say will spoil that?” she said with a bit of alarm.

“No, nothing like that. But it will change it.”

They walked on the beach after the cake and coffee were consumed. Jack ambled slowly, and Jenna matched his stride.

“Mikki said you and she talked.”

“She’s a really smart kid. She gets it, Jack. She really does.”

“We talked after she came back from her date. She said you had basically told her to see things from my perspective.”

“I thought that was important.”

“I can understand why she was upset.” He stopped and kicked at the wet sand. “After I got the kids back, I fell into my old routine. And Mikki jumped on that.”

“On what?”

“That I didn’t have a clue how to run a family.”

“Who does? We all just wing it.”

“That’s nice of you to say, Jenna. But it’s giving me credit I don’t really deserve.”

“You really put a lot pressure on yourself. Bet you did that in the army too.”

“Only way you survive. You practice perfection. You have a mission, you prep the crap out of it, and you execute that prep. Same with building stuff. You have a plan, you get your materials, and you build it according to the plans.”

“Okay, but did every mission and every building project go according to plan?”

“Well, no. They never do.”

“Then what did you do?”

“You improvise. Fly by the seat of your pants.”

“I think you just defined parenting in a nutshell.”

“You really believe that?”

“Belief isn’t a strong enough word. I basically live that.”

“You’d think I’d know that by now, having three kids.”

“All kids are different. It’s not like one size or model fits all. I only have Liam, but I have five siblings. We drove my parents nuts, all in different ways. It’s not smooth, it doesn’t make sense half the time, and it’s the hardest, most exasperating job you can ever have. But the payoff is also the biggest.”

“Does it get easier?”

“Truthfully, some parts of it do, only to be replaced by other parts that are actually harder.” Jenna gripped his shoulder. “Time, Jack. Time. And little steps. You nearly died. You lost the woman you love. You’ve moved to a different town. That’s a lot.”

“Thanks, Jenna. I needed to hear all this.”

“Always ready to give advice, even if most of it is wrong.”

“I think most of it is right, at least for me.”

She slowly pulled her hand away. “Things get complicated, Jack, awfully fast. I’m a big believer in taking your time.”

“I think I’m beginning to see that. Thanks for dinner.”

She pecked him on the cheek. “Thanks for asking. But why did you think this was going to change things between you and me? I think you just wanted some assurance, maybe some comfort.”

“But those are big deals for me. I don’t go to people with things like that. I’m more of a loner. When Lizzie was alive, I’d go to her.”

“Your soul mate?”

“And my best friend. There was nothing we couldn’t talk about.”

Jenna sighed resignedly. “You just described my image — no, my dream — of the perfect relationship.”

“It wasn’t all perfect. We had our problems.”

“But you worked them out together?”

“Well, yeah. That’s what a marriage is, right?”

“It’s supposed to be that way. But more and more I don’t think it is. People seem to give up on each other way too easily. Grass is greener crap.”

“I’m surprised you never got married again. I’m sure it wasn’t for lack of offers.”

“It wasn’t,” she admitted. “But like I said before, I guess the right offer never came along.”

As they headed back to the house, she asked, “So how’s the lighthouse coming?”

“Not great,” he admitted. “I guess I’ll die trying to get it to work again.”

As he drove off later, Jenna watched from the front porch, a worried look on her face.