live with,” Sue added with the kind of candor only true friends could share. “Where’d you grow up, Jessie?”
Jessie ducked her head and bought time by sipping her wine. The cool liquid slid down her throat like ambrosia. She hadn’t had any one-on-one time with Sue and should have anticipated questions. How much could she safely reveal? “I grew up on a farm. You?” she asked hoping to derail the questioning.
“I’m a local. Been widowed more years than I was married. I didn’t pick a good husband the first time or the second. Decided to forgo a third attempt. No kids. Got a boyfriend?”
So much for changing the topic. “Not anymore.”
“You end it? Or did he?” Sue persisted, making Jessie squirm.
“I did.”
“Miss him?”
Jessie closed her eyes and tried to recall Aaron’s features. But instead of her ex-fiancé’s, the image burned on her retinas was one of tanned flesh tightly wrapped over muscles. Logan. In swim trunks. She gulped her wine and shook her head to banish the image. “Not even a little bit.”
She realized that at some point since leaving home she’d quit second-guessing whether she’d wronged Aaron by choosing her family over him, as he’d accused. Her father was right. If her fiancé had truly loved her, he would have signed the prenuptial agreement her family insisted she ask for instead of throwing a tantrum and demanding she choose between him and them.
When had that forgetting him part happened?
“What about your parents, Jessie? Are they missing you?”
“Oh, Sue, leave her be,” Miri objected.
Jessie wanted to hug Miri for intervening. “They know where I am and are probably jealous of my beach vacation.”
“Some vacation. You’re working your patootie off,” Sue grumbled.
“I don’t mind. I’m actually happy to help.” Thrilled to see the bottom of her glass and the end of this conversation, Jessie rose. The room swayed, forcing her to grab the back of her chair.
Miri sprang to her feet and caught Jessie’s elbow. Her eyes widened with alarm. “Are you okay?”
Jessie blinked to clear her head. “I’m fine. I guess I shouldn’t have had wine on an empty stomach.”
“When did you eat last?” Miri asked.
Jessie scrolled though her memory then grimaced. “Breakfast?”
Tsking, Sue rose. “You never took a lunch or dinner break?” She didn’t wait for Jessie’s answer. “Sit down, child. I’ll get you a bowl of clam chowder.”
“You don’t have to do that, Sue.”
“You took care of me. Now I’m returning the favor. Sit. I ain’t letting you leave till you eat some’n.” Then she hustled off to the kitchen.
Jessie glanced at Miri for backup, but Miri only shrugged. “You might as well listen to her. She’s a mother hen. Don’t know how I would have gotten through losing Jack without her. Down here in the Keys, we look out for our own.”
But she wasn’t one of theirs and never would be. Jessie eased back into her seat.
“And, Jessie, don’t let me hear about you skipping breaks again. I know we were busy and your intentions were good, but I can’t have you neglecting yourself. The employment folks would have my head—if Logan didn’t get it first.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t.”
“I’ll go back through the applications tomorrow and see if I can find any that come close to my minimal standards to give ’em a chance. I hate that we lost BeBe, but waitressing wasn’t really her thing, was it?”
“No.”
Sue returned with a bowl of soup and a basket of crackers. “I heated it up a bit.”
“Thank you, Sue.” Jessie’s stomach rumbled in anticipation. She put a spoonful of the thick, creamy, clam-laden chowder in her mouth and moaned. “I know now why your recipe’s so popular, Miri.”
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