Hometown Love (7 page)

When Jessie stepped from her car, she spotted Mrs. Mitchell outside, pruning the rose bush near her front door. As anxious as she felt about the task ahead, Jessie didn’t want to put it off by getting into a long conversation.

With just a friendly wave in her former piano teacher’s direction, she crossed the lawn. Before she managed to place a finger on the doorbell, Mack appeared in the living room gesturing for her to come in through the screen door. Much like the day he’d moved in, he wore faded jeans with a small hole above the knee and a t-shirt so old she could no longer read the logo on the front. He also wore a baseball hat, this one sporting an emblem for a team she’d didn’t recognize.

“Make yourself comfortable. I just need to finish up this call.” Mack pointed to the phone near his ear and headed out of the room.

She’d never stepped inside the old house before, but she’d passed by it her whole life. She’d even gone trick-or-treating there. From the outside, the house looked small, but the living room was much larger than she’d expected. A couch took up the longest wall while two armchairs and a coffee table sat in front of the windows. A large flat screen television hung over a stone fireplace and in front of the fireplace a doll house that almost reached Jessie’s waist sat open with each room set up and the dolls positioned.

“Sorry about that.” At Mack’s voice, Jessie looked away from the dollhouse. “Work stuff.”

She gripped her hands behind her back. “No problem. I’m ready to start if you are.”

Mack gestured that she should follow him. “I managed to get the furniture covered and taped most of the trim.”

She followed him up the stairs. A few unopened boxes, some with the word 
Toys
written on them, had been left in the hallway.

“Ignore the mess. I made Grace wait to unpack her stuff until I painted.” He pointed to the boxes as he pushed open a door. “As long as she has the doll house downstairs and Mr. Whiskers she’s happy.”

She assumed Mr. Whiskers was some kind of stuffed toy since she saw no evidence of a live pet anywhere.

“Everything I got at the store last night is in here.”

Jessie’s gaze swept around the room. Like the living room, it was much larger than she’d expected. “This is almost as big as the room I had growing up.”

Blackthorne Farm had been in her family since the late 1800s when one of her ancestors had purchased the land and turned it into a dairy farm. A man with a large family, he’d constructed a four-thousand-square-foot house, and while the house might lack several bathrooms or an attached garage, it made up for those things in the size of its bedrooms. In fact, several of her friends growing up had been jealous of how large her bedroom had been.

“It’s hard to tell by the street, but this house is bigger than it looks.”

Comments about the size of the room out of the way, Jessie latched onto the only other topic she had. “If you want to hand me a roll of tape, I’ll finish taping around the electrical outlets.”

Mack grabbed a roll and tossed it to her. “While you do that, I’ll get these cans open.”

In no time, they fell into a comfortable silence as they worked with Mack handling the top part of the divided wall and Jessie using the various sponges on the bottom half.

“I don’t blame Grace for not liking this color,” Jessie said. “It looks like pea soup.” So far she’d forced herself to stay focused on her work. With him so close, though, she couldn’t help but look over at him now.

He took a step back and eyed the wall. “It reminds me of the green slime along the marsh behind the elementary school.”

Jessie looked at the color again. “That, too.” She set the sponge into the paint tray and watched as Mack got within a few inches of the ceiling. “Don’t worry about getting close to the ceiling. I’ll go around with the edger once we finish everything else.”

“I appreciate your help today. If Grace had wanted something plain, this wouldn’t have been bad, but if I did the part your working on, it wouldn’t have come out well.”

“I used to paint my room almost twice a year. My grandparents didn’t mind and I don’t think my dad ever noticed.” Jessie went back to work. The longer she stared at Mack, the harder her heart beat. “One time I even painted each wall a different color with different patterns. My dad noticed that, but he let me leave it.” At the time, she’d assumed her dad knew she’d get sick of the multiple colors and paint over it.

“How is your dad? Does he still drive trucks?”

“He’s still driving just not long-distance anymore. Last year he took a job with Heartland, so he only does deliveries in New England,” she said referring to the New England-based grocery chain.

Once again out of conversation material, Jessie became silent and focused on her work. Painting the walls with a roller or sponge was the easy part. It was all the trim work that would take time.

“It must be nice having him around more.”

She glanced over her shoulder. Although they’d started at the same time, he’d covered more ground than her. Then again, he did have the easier task. “It is. We usually get together once a week or so for dinner. Sometimes we meet at Masterson’s or the Jade Orient. Other times he comes to my place. Honestly, I think he misses the long-distance drives.”

She watched Mack pour more paint into his tray. “Change can be difficult. Why’d he give it up?”

Rather than return to her own work, she watched the way the muscles in Mack’s arm flexed as he moved the roller on the wall. By the looks of it, Mack kept himself in top shape despite a full-time job and daughter.

“I think he wanted to be around for his parents. My grandfather is almost eighty-three.”

Turn around and work
. She allowed herself one more moment of watching Mack and turned. “When I’m done here, I’ll swap sides with you and I’ll get that part near the ceiling.”

“Consider it done.”

***

One of the worst parts about being short and painting was the constant up and down the ladder. Considering all the climbing she’d done that day, it was okay that she’d skipped the leg part of her workout.

“I think that’s it.” Jessie took a step into the middle of the room. In just a few hours, the room had undergone a complete transformation.

Mack dropped his own paint roller and joined her. “You’re right. I thought it might need a second coat, but it looks good to me. Grace will love it, especially after she puts up those decorations you helped her pick out.”

“And when she gets sick of the puppies and princess you can peel them off the wall.” Whether because Mack stood so close or because of the paint smell Jessie suddenly felt light-headed. Taking a step away from him, she said, “Do you need help cleaning up before I leave?” She picked up a discarded paint roller.

“Forget about it. I’ll clean up later. I’m starving, what about you?” He took the roller from her and his fingers brushed against hers.

She’d arrived before lunchtime and neither had stopped for anything but a drink since. “Now that you mention it, I’m hungry. On my way home I think I’ll grab something.”

Mack covered the leftover paint. “How about we grab something together? My treat. It’s the least I can do for all your help today and last weekend with Grace.”

At one time she’d dreamed about Mack Ellsbury asking her out. None of those invitations had been because he wanted to repay her. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think either of us is dressed for going out.”

Rather than respond, he focused his gaze on her, starting at the top of her head and traveling down. Under his intense inspection, the self-consciousness she’d just begun to control returned full force, and she fought to not fidget.

“You look great to me,” he said, his voice taking on a new degree of warmth. “There’s not a speck of paint on you.” Mack stepped closer.

Unable to maintain eye contact, Jessie glanced away. “You might want to look in the mirror before you decide to go out.” Although he’d stayed clean for the most part, he did have some paint on his baseball hat as well as on his left bicep and t-shirt.

Mack glanced down at his clothes then back up. “I don’t see anything.”

“Check your left arm right about here.” Jessie showed him the spot on her own arm since touching him was out of the question. “And on your back there’s a spot, too.”

“That’s nothing. Come on. People have showed up at Masterson’s looking much worse. I’ll change my shirt and we can go.”

She had no good excuse. She’d already said she only planned to go home, and she was hungry. At the same time, though, showing up at the restaurant together might just send the rumor mill into action.

“After all your help, Jessie, dinner is the least I can do.”

Whenever someone did her a favor, she liked to repay them, so she understood Mack’s sentiments. “Okay.”

Ellen, Mr. Masterson’s granddaughter and the hostess at Masterson’s Restaurant, greeted them and whisked them to a table on the patio. The usual Saturday night dinner rush hadn’t started, but still, several of the tables inside the restaurant and on the patio were occupied. Originally a small diner opened in the 1950s by Lou Masterson, the restaurant had grown over the years. Now, the once-tiny diner could seat about two hundred people and had an additional banquet hall attached.

“I’m so hungry everything on the menu sounds good. What are you ordering?” Mack asked.

Jessie lowered the menu and looked at him. “I should go with the grilled chicken salad, but I’m leaning toward the Portsmouth pie.”

Salads made great additions to meals, but they weren’t a meal, at least not to him. “What’s that?” He’d only glanced at the menu, assuming it hadn’t changed since the last time he’d eaten dinner there. He didn’t recall anything called a Portsmouth pie.

“Look under seafood. It’s one of the new dishes they added last winter. It contains shrimp, scallops, and lobster.”

Mack raised the menu again. Perhaps it warranted a closer look. Sure enough, several new dishes filled each section of the dinner menu.

“Mack Ellsbury, I heard you moved back.”

Mack glanced up and saw Brendan Michaels at their table. A fellow classmate, they’d played on a lot of the same sports teams as kids. Even back then, Brendan had been a pain in the ass, always picking on the kids he didn’t like. Once, in high school, he’d given up sports and taken up partying. Mack hadn’t seen the guy since their last high school reunion and had no desire to catch up now.

“Hey, Brendan. Moved back last week.”

Brendan slapped him on the back and Mack caught a whiff of beer. “Well, welcome back. We should catch up sometime.” Without another word, he headed off to a corner table where his older brother and sister in-law sat.

“He hasn’t changed, has he?” Mack put his menu off to the side.

Jessie placed hers on top. “No. I think a lot of people wish he’d move somewhere else. Earlier this summer he even got into a fight with Sean.”

Sean had never been one to get into fights so Mack was curious what could have provoked him. Before he could ask about it though, their waitress appeared.

While they waited for their appetizer, they discussed the recent happenings in town. Then when the buffalo tenders, one of Mack’s favorite appetizers, arrived he pushed the plate toward Jessie so she could take one.

“So, if you weren’t here tonight, what would you be doing?” Mack grabbed the last buffalo tender from the plate between them. While Jessie had eaten one or two, he’d more or less polished off the entire appetizer himself.

“Depends.” Jessie stirred her ice tea with her straw. “A few months ago, I would’ve been up to my eyeballs with everyone’s taxes. When it’s not tax season, I sometimes visit my grandparents and dad. Occasionally I do a girls’ night out with Kelsey and Maryann. But most Saturday nights, I stay home and watch a movie.”

It didn’t escape him that she hadn’t mentioned a boyfriend or dating. Had Sean threatened every guy in town against asking Jessie out? The guy had always treated Jessie as a second sister. Rather than ask her about her romantic life, which really wasn’t any of his business, he latched onto something else she’d mentioned. “You’re an accountant?” From behind him, the waitress came back to remove the empty appetizer plates.

“I double-majored in management and accounting. Besides running the store, I take care of the accounting for Peggy Sue’s and The Hair Cottage. Then, during tax season, I do taxes for a bunch of people.”

Sounded like a busy but boring life to him. “Don’t be surprised if you find me knocking on your door next April. My old accountant quit and I don’t have the patience for doing my own.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t wait until April. It’s much better when I get all the materials early, but I’d be happy to do them for you.”

When their dinners arrived a few minutes later they both started on their meals. While he’d dated a good deal before his marriage, he hadn’t done much since the separation and divorce. And while this wasn’t a date, but rather, two acquaintances sharing a meal, he found himself enjoying her company. In fact, he’d enjoyed her company all day.

“What would you be doing if you weren’t here?” Jessie asked.

“Saturday night is movie night. Grace and I get take-out, usually pizza, make popcorn, and watch a movie together.” Other single guys might find that a horrible way to spend a Saturday night, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything. “If she’s at my mom’s or it’s a weekend that she’s with Bethany, I might go out with friends or sometimes I just chill at home. Try to unwind from work.”