Stop it, Jake. Stop thinking about it. Focus on Pop’s birthday and nothing else.
He switched off the engine and climbed out of the car then got his bag from the trunk. He still had his front door key but he would ring the bell anyway, let them know he’d arrived. He didn’t even get the chance to press the button. As soon as he stepped onto the front porch the door flew open and his mother stood there, eyes crinkled in a broad smile. “Jake,” she said, throwing her arms wide, “come give your mom a hug. It’s been so long.” And as he stepped into her embrace her face crumpled and a small sob escaped her lips.
“It’s okay, Mom,” he whispered. “I’m here now.” Yes, it had been long. Too long. This was only his second visit to Long Island since he’d moved to the house in Tonawanda. Before that, he’d been in Boston and Connecticut. Anywhere but Long Island.
Today, though, he was home and he’d do everything in his power to make his family happy, even if that meant suppressing his pain and putting on a brave face.
“Now,” he said as he gently lifted his mother’s face from his shoulder, “where’s the birthday boy?”
After falling into a deep sleep that night, the result of his exhaustion, Jake spent a pleasant day with his parents, followed the next day by a small gathering of close friends to celebrate his father's seventh decade. It was good to be back among the living. He’d cut himself off from the world for so long he’d forgotten the simple joy of conversation. He was surprised at how relaxed he felt. For the first time in a long time he was happy to be home.
The following day was not quite so easy. This was the day he planned to pay a visit to Jessica’s parents. Mitch and Ellen Bloom lived less than half an hour’s drive away and there was no way he could come to Long
Island and not see them. As hard as it was, it was the right thing to do.
Ellen was out in the garden when he arrived. She immediately came to greet him, giving him a bear hug as soon as he stepped out of the car. Then she stepped back and looked up into his face with sharp, questioning eyes. “You look thin, Jake.” She frowned. “Have you been taking care of yourself?”
He gave her a halfhearted smile. The consummate mother hen, Ellen always knew when things weren’t quite right. “I’m fine,” he told her.
She stared up at him for a few seconds longer, seeming unconvinced, then she took his hands in hers. “Come on. Let’s go inside. Mitch is waiting for you.”
Mitch greeted Jake just as warmly as Ellen had. Not that he’d expected anything different. The Blooms had been like second parents to him from the time he and Jessica were dating until they got married and beyond. Even after Jessica’s death they showed him no resentment but continued to welcome him into their home.
“Don’t blame yourself,” they’d told him. “It was an accident. She’s with God now.”
They seemed to have taken it better than he had. Of course they would. They’d had no hand in her death so there was no reason for them to be racked with guilt. For him, though, it was another matter.
“You’ll stay for dinner, won’t you?” Ellen was saying.
Jake nodded automatically. What was the point in saying no? Ellen would only nag him until she wore him down and he ended up staying anyway. This time he decided to avoid the torture and just give in right away.
As he walked through the house he kept his face emotionless but he was feeling anything but. There were so many things there that screamed Jessica – the old piano where she used to perch on the stool and play him her favorite love songs, the painting they’d picked out together for her mother’s sixtieth birthday, and the old photo album that still sat on the coffee table. He’d flipped through it so many times, laughing at photos of Jessica in diapers, Jessica clutching her blankie on her first day of preschool, Jessica at her high school graduation. Now, instead of joy and laughter, the sight of the album only brought him pain.
Jake spent the next five hours with Ellen and Mitch and although it got a little easier as time passed it was with relief that he finally said goodbye and headed for home.
As he drove, the image of Jessica’s smiling face filled his mind then the vision morphed into a soft heart-shaped face framed with long, dark hair. Sam. What the devil? He’d just been grieving for Jessica and in the middle of it his thoughts darted off to another woman. God, he was sick. How could his mind be consumed with both women at the same time?
One thing he knew, to preserve his sanity he would have to do his best to resist Samantha Fox and her feminine charms. He needed to continue seeing her to complete the renovation project but from here on it would be strictly business.
CHAPTER FIVE
Cream, peach and a slash of burnt orange. That was the color scheme Sam selected for Jake’s music room. Now that he was back from his trip she could move forward with the project. The living room, dining room and den had already been completed and now she was anxious to tackle her favorite room of them all.
She’d been a bit put off by Jake’s tone when she’d called to tell him she was coming. He’d dampened her excitement when he answered her in a bored tone, sounding almost distant. But then she perked up. When he saw the fabric she had selected he would sing a different tune. The music room was going to be a beauty. And then, when she’d got him in a good mood, she would execute Plan B.
As she’d done once before, Sam abandoned the boots, jeans and work shirt in favor of a light cotton dress with flared skirt, its pinched-in waist giving her the appearance of a curvaceous figure. She’d let hair fall loose down her back just the way he liked it and had applied her make-up carefully but not heavily to give her a natural, unaffected look. She’d even gone and had her eyebrows waxed which had the effect of making her eyes stand out in all their deep-brown glory. If Jake McKoy hadn’t noticed her before, today he most certainly would.
Sam was humming under her breath as she rang the doorbell and waited for Jake to let her in. When the door opened she held up her bundle to a sleepy-looking Jake. “You won’t believe what I have here,” she said eagerly. “The perfect material for the music room.” She barely gave him a chance to step aside before she breezed in, the bulky bag of fabrics clutched to her chest. “Come on. Let me show you,” she said and, not waiting to see if he was following, she headed for the room in question.