Unpredictable Love (13 page)

Trent wore sunglasses, even indoors. He
studied her, reconciling the image he’d formed of her with the
reality. She was taller than he’d imagined. “Have you heard from
Jory?”

“
She came by to see you the day they
took you to New York. I told her what happened. She seemed happy
for you. I asked for her number, but she said you had
it.”

“
Me? No. I don’t have it. Everything
happened so fast, I didn’t get a chance. Didn’t think I’d be
leaving so abruptly.”

“
Her last name is Walker. I think she
lives with her aunt. I’ll write down the address if you
want.”

“
Thanks.”

He slipped the paper in his breast pocket
then joined Dan, who drove them home.

“
How about stopping at the diner for
lunch?”

“
Sure. I’ll buy.”

“
An offer I can’t refuse,” Dan
said.

Trent was quiet in the car. He wondered why
Jory had lied to Marie about her phone number. He’d just stop over
there, see her in person, and find out what was going on. She was
the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he wasn’t about
to let her go.

As they sipped their coffee after a fine
meal of meat loaf and mashed potatoes, Trent leaned back. “I have a
favor to ask,” the Marine said, his leg propped up on the booth
seat.

“
Anything.”

“
Can you drive me over to Jory
Walker’s house this afternoon? I don’t have her phone
number.”

Dan gazed out the window. “You sure she
wants to see you?”

“
Why wouldn’t she?”

“
I don’t know. Just that you haven’t
heard from her.”

“
I left before we could exchange
numbers.”

“
Oh. I see. Sure. Sure. Why
not?”

Trent’s keen military observation skills
kicked in. Dan shifted in his seat and didn’t meet Trent’s
gaze.

“
You do need to get your drops and
rest today too, remember?”

“
I will. Promise. Just need to see
Jory. Now that I can see.”

Sweat broke out on Dan’s upper lip. Trent’s
suspicions were aroused. Dan was hiding something, and Trent needed
to know what it was—especially if it concerned Jory.

Trent picked up the tab and hobbled out to
the car. He rode in the backseat so he could stretch out his leg.
Keeping it in one position too long made it cramp up. Dan appeared
more nervous than he had at the diner. This visit had the feel of a
covert op. Hiding in the back might be good.

As they drove, the older man spoke up.
“Surprising her might not be a good idea. Not telling someone
you’re coming. You could get a surprise you didn’t bargain
for.”

“
That’s okay. I need the truth. If
she’s met someone else, I want to know.”

“
She might not even be home. Let’s
turn around.”

“
If she’s not home, all we’ve wasted
is a little gas and a little time. Keep going.”

Dan slowed down as they approached the
house. Suddenly, the front door opened. The woman in his picture,
the one Trent knew to be Jory, came out.

“
Stop!” he ordered. Dan hit the
brakes.

The young woman skipped down the steps and
into a waiting convertible. She kissed the young man behind the
wheel and slammed the door. The fellow leaned over to give her a
bigger smooch then put the vehicle in gear and roared off.

Trent thought his heart had stopped beating,
then, suddenly, it was beating twice as fast. He couldn’t catch his
breath as his pulse pounded in his ears.

“
Trent?” Dan asked, turning from the
front seat.

“
Home. Drive,” he choked out. “I’ve
seen all I need to.”

Dan turned the car around.

Adrenaline pumped into Trent’s veins. Pain
broke through. Everything hurt. His eyes, his leg, and the back of
his head throbbed. The places that had been stitched together
ached. He needed to get home, lie down, and forget he was
alive.

Dan pulled into the carport and opened the
door for Trent.

“
Thank you.” Trent eased himself out
of the backseat, struggling to keep his balance. Dan propped him up
until he was safely supported by his crutches.

Trent disappeared into the den, a
first-floor room which had been converted to his bedroom. Dan
administered eye drops, and Trent tried not to cry for twenty
minutes. His chest heaved, and he turned on the radio. He switched
channels until he found music. He put the eye patches on and lay
back down. He propped his leg up on three pillows and listened. The
song that came on was Julian Lennon’s “Too Late for Goodbyes.”

Tears streamed down the Sergeant’s face.
Sadness and anger swirled through his heart. When the number was
over, he threw the radio against the wall, shattering it into
pieces. The door opened, then closed again, softly clicking into
place. Trent rolled on his side, grabbed his pillow, stuffed it in
his mouth, and sobbed.

* * * *

Two months later

Jory had become comfortable in her new job.
The people at The Reporter treated her with respect. Jim Sparks,
gruff and demanding, expected the best from her, and she worked
hard not to let him down.

Jory trekked to Nan’s house for dinner once
a week. She, her aunt, and Amber no longer mentioned Trent. For a
month, Jory had asked at least once a week if he had come around
looking for her, but the answer had always been “no.”

It hurt her heart to think, once he had
regained his sight, he had turned his back on her. She’d never
expected he’d forget her so fast and chided herself on being naïve.
She’d been easy, maybe too easy, and now, he’d moved on to his next
“fling,” or “friend with benefits.”

As many times as she had said that, she
couldn’t convince herself. A sneaking suspicion that something had
happened seeped into her brain. She asked Nan about Trent’s
recovery, and her aunt reported that he was doing well. Of course,
that was good news, but she’d almost have been happier to find out
something had gone wrong. At least it would explain his
indifference.

She’d tossed out the other explanation—that
she’d been plain stupid. Jory, the smart Walker girl, was simply
too intelligent to be taken for such a ride by the handsome Marine.
Any way she sliced it, it still hurt. Not knowing made the pain
worse.

Even when she sank into a new pity party,
she couldn’t deny his disappearance had relieved her of the
responsibility of facing him with the truth. He’d released her from
a whole lot of explaining. Most likely, he’d have ended up dumping
her anyway. She consoled herself with the idea that avoiding the
confrontation was the less painful way to part. But she didn’t
really buy it.

She wished she didn’t still love him. It
would have been so much easier if he had been only a diversion. But
she missed him every day—talking to him, looking for a letter,
holding hands. Her new job was demanding, her success uncertain—she
could have used his support, or at least his friendly ear.

After living at the Casey’s for two months,
she’d located a comfortable and affordable first-floor, two bedroom
apartment. She’d furnished it with the money Nan had given her.
Jory kept herself too busy to think much about Trent by starting a
garden and putting up bird feeders.

The birds reminded her of the funny stories
she and the Marine had shared about the antics of the little
feathered creatures. When something cute occurred, she made a
mental note, forgetting she wouldn’t be retelling it to Trent. She
shared it with Nan and Amber, but they soon tired of her bird
tales. When she got into bed at night, Trent occupied her mind.
She’d replayed every minute she’d spent with him, a dozen times
over.

If she was still awake in the wee hours,
she’d fish out some of his letters from the pretty, cloth-covered
box and sit up reading until exhaustion weighed her eyelids
down.

As the day for the town garage sale drew
near, Jory no longer feared returning to Pine Grove. Obviously,
Trent wasn’t looking for her, so she could go about her business
with her anonymity intact. She pushed aside the disappointment and
chose to see it as a relief.

Amber babbled on and on about Troy and how
wonderful he was. Jory smiled to see her sister finally stick to
one man. Maybe Troy was man enough to tame the Walker wild
child.

Mary had fixed Jory up on a couple of dates,
but they fizzled. She couldn’t find anything to talk about. They
didn’t know about birds or books, so she dismissed them as
incompatible. Being alone gave her time to read and watch the
finches. She had a busy, full life, and decided that that would
have to be enough.

Her cell rang.

“
You have to come to the garage sale.
It’s gonna be huge. You must need stuff for your new place,” Amber
prattled on.

“
Okay. I’ll come.”

“
Oh, good. I’ve invited Troy to
dinner. Is that okay?”

“
Of course, it’s okay. You don’t have
to clear it with me.”

“
Nan said I should ask.”

“
Don’t be silly. It’s fine with
me.”

“
Good. Cause I already invited him!”
Amber giggled.

Jory drove over the night before so she
could be in on the dinner with Troy. He was an amazingly
good-looking young man with hair almost as blond as Amber’s. Tall,
maybe six three, with broad shoulders. He gushed on about Amber. He
accomplished the impossible—he impressed Jory. This guy seemed to
truly love her crazy sister. The older sibling silently chided
herself for being shocked.

The next morning, the entire town buzzed,
the old and young, alike, scurried around, dusting off basement
treasures and arguing about the best way to arrange their used
goods. Couples set up tables in front of their houses, displaying
their stuff. Children destroyed kitchens preparing lemonade and
cookies to sell to thirsty shoppers. The women’s club had a spot by
the firehouse. Even the Sheriff’s office gave space in their
parking lot to a group of retired cops and firemen to make a few
bucks.

Mismatched plates, incomplete sets of
dishes, old bikes, radios with a slight crack in the case, hard
cover and paperback books by the dozens, kitchen appliances, tools,
well-loved toys, board games missing a piece, jigsaw puzzles, and
newly-washed clothing filled card tables, folding tables,
driveways, front porches, and lawns. Pine Grove was decked out for
the sale of the year. Folks were already deciding how to spend the
large amounts of cash they hoped to rake in.

Amber and Nan had gone through the attic to
select things from their parents’ house to dump. They added
artwork, barely-worn clothing, books, Uncle Ben’s old pipes, and
other items Nan had saved over the years. Jory agreed to part with
the things they had selected and added two boxes of second-hand
stuff she’d left in her room for the sale.

She reminisced for an hour or two upstairs.
Happy memories of her parents and her early life with them warmed
her, bringing a smile to her lips. She dusted off the small, china
animals she and her mother had collected together. A few pictures,
a famous saying needlepointed by her mom, and framed by her dad,
were still there. Parking her rear on an old piano stool, Jory
flipped through the snapshots, stopping to recall the adventures
she’d shared with her folks and beloved friends.

These memories were hers alone. Amber had
been either a baby or not even born when some of the photos had
been taken. Jory had enjoyed a period of seven years of being the
only child. Her time with her parents was memorialized here. With
her heart still hurting, she needed this time with them, even if it
was only on paper. The images of their smiling faces soothed her
spirit. She sensed their presence.

By the time she descended the steep attic
steps, the sun was beating down bright and hot on the front lawn.
Nan had busied herself making three gallons of sweet tea while the
young women set up the table. Jory bowed to Amber’s artistic sense
of what should go where and which tablecloths they should use.

“
We don’t have enough tags. Dammit.”
Amber crossed her arms over her chest.

“
We need tape, and this tablecloth has
seen better days. It belongs in the garbage. Let’s head down to The
Country Store,” Jory said.

Amber made a face.

“
Come on. We’ll get ice cream at the
Frosty Freeze too. My treat.”

“
You’re paying? I want a hot fudge
sundae.”

Jory laughed. “You got it.”

They piled into Jory’s old car and toddled
down the road. Unfortunately, The Country Store was sold out of all
the things they needed. They had their ice cream, and Jory
persuaded her sister to go to the big dollar store two towns away.
As they rode, Amber talked about Troy.

“
He’s doing real well at the hardware
store. Someday, he’s gonna be a manager.”

“
He’s a hard worker?”

Cookie nodded. “Oh, yes. He works more
overtime than anyone. That’s how he got the money to buy me this
watch.” Her sister flashed the beautiful timepiece on her
wrist.

“
Teach him to save his money. Then, he
can buy you a house, and you can get married.”

“
Don’t worry about me. It’s you we’ve
got to worry about. You need a man. And not some broken one who
breaks your heart, either. A whole guy. Nice. Who appreciates you.
You’re one in a million, Jory.”

Her eyes watered. “Thanks, Cookie.”