Moonlight in the Morning (25 page)

Seventeen

An hour later Jecca went back into the living room where Tris was loading a backpack for a hike, and Roan was putting beef into a marinade of lime juice and spices.

“I have to go home,” Jecca said.

Tris reacted instantly. “But it’s not the end of the summer. You still have weeks. Months. Reede wants me to go back to work, but I’ll postpone it. I’ll go to New York with you and we’ll—” He broke off because Jecca was staring at him.

“You mean back to Edilean,” he mumbled.

Roan was chuckling. “Now that ol’ Ken here has hung his heart out for everybody to see, may I ask what’s up?”

“I need to get with Lucy to start making an entire wardrobe for Nell to wear at the fashion show.”

Tris was trying to recover from his embarrassment. “Savannah said she was getting all the clothes.”

“And if I know her,” Roan said, “it will be the best the state has to offer. Her daughter will probably wear some dress with diamonds on the skirt.”

“That’s just the point,” Jecca said.

The two men looked at her with identical expressions of not understanding what she was talking about.

“Tristan,” Jecca said slowly, “last year when you went to see about Rebecca’s injuries, you thought it was funny that Nell was wearing a Mickey Mouse leotard that was two sizes too small for her. How do you think
she
felt in that getup? And why do you think ‘good girl’ Rebecca didn’t tell very pretty, very smart, fast-thinking Nell that she needed to bring a leotard for the circus party?”

“Oh,” Tris said, “I guess I missed that. So your plan is . . . ?”

“I don’t trust this Rebecca and her mother to give Nell pretty clothes to wear in the fashion show. I have a hideous vision of dungarees and rubber boots floating around in my mind. I think it would be in Nell’s best interest to arrive with a few of her own garments, designed just for her. Actually, I’ve been thinking of a whole line of clothes called Nell’s Closet.”

Tristan blinked a few times as understanding came to him. He didn’t want to say what he thought of Savannah McDowell and her daughter, but it was in his eyes. “How soon can you be ready to leave?”

“I need to pack and—”

“Why don’t you guys go now and I’ll take your clothes down to you this afternoon?” Roan asked. “And I think you should . . .”

They looked at him.

“I don’t know much about little girls, but it might be nice if Jecca made some clothes for the other girls to wear at the show. It might make Nell feel less like an outsider.”

“That’s brilliant,” Jecca said. “You seem to know a lot about mean girls.”

“I’ve met a few. You guys go. It’ll take an hour to get all Nell’s Kirby dolls in the car.”

“Riley,” Jecca said as she headed toward the bedroom.

Twenty minutes later they were ready to leave. Jecca had scooped all her toiletries into her bag, then done the same thing for Tris and Nell. Roan carried the entire lot of Nell’s animals and dolls to the car—and Jecca couldn’t resist taking a photo of him.

“I’ll send it to Berkeley for you to use to get students to sign up,” she said as she got in the car. “The caption will read,
HE MAY LOOK TOUGH BUT HE’S A GENTLE GIANT
.”

“As Nietzsche would say—” Roan began, but Tris started the engine and drowned him out. Roan took the hint. “Tell the girls I’ll return their pans this afternoon,” he yelled over the noise.

As Tris pulled away from the cabin, Jecca looked at him. “I take it ‘the girls’ are Mrs. Wingate and Lucy.”

“Yes they are,” he said and glanced in the rearview mirror. Nell, snuggled up with her toys, was already asleep. “I want you to tell me everything you have planned,” he said.

“I’d rather hear about you and Reede. When did you two talk?”

“Me and my big mouth. After Reede saw me dancing with you, he suggested that I take care of my own medical practice so he could return to wherever it is that he’s been working lately.”

“But you took Nell and me to the cabin instead.”

“I did,” Tris said. “Besides, Reede needs to face his problems.”

“Which are . . . ?” Jecca asked.

“Laura Chawnley.”

“You’re kidding,” Jecca said. “After all these years he’s still hung up on her? Even though she married the Baptist preacher and now has kids?”

“That’s right,” Tris said. “It’s just that Reede hasn’t seen her since the day she told him she wasn’t going to marry him, and he’s a yellow-bellied coward.”

“Which you probably told him.”

“And loved doing it,” Tris said, grinning.

Jecca was going to ask more questions, but her phone buzzed. “uzz20;AnLooks like we’re back in range.” She pulled her cell out of her bag. “And I have twenty-one e-mails.” She started going through them. “Oh good! A woman in Nigeria has decided to give
me
her late husband’s fortune of eighteen million dollars. And all because she’s heard that I’m such a very good person.”

“I told her that about you,” Tris said solemnly.

“Then I should give her your e-mail address.”

“I don’t deserve such kindness,” he said and they laughed.

Jecca clicked on Lucy’s cell number, and she answered right away. It took only a couple of minutes to explain what was needed. “We only have a week. Think we can do anything in that time?”

“I think we can put on a show that will make Savannah McDowell faint with envy. And by the way, all of this is
her
doing, not her daughter’s.”

“I see,” Jecca said with a glance at Tristan.

“I’ll meet you at Hancock Fabrics in Williamsburg,” Lucy said. “I can alter patterns but I’m not a designer. Besides, we’ll need to buy fabric. How many outfits did you design?”

“Six,” Jecca said, “but Roan thinks we should make something for the other girls to wear too.”

“I like that. But we can’t pull this off in secret. We’ll have to let Savannah know about it—and Rebecca. This won’t be easy to do.”

“You’re right, of course,” Jecca said thoughtfully. “Tris is the MC so he can—”

“Sweet-talk Savannah into anything on earth. He’ll get her to agree to anything we want. Oh yes! I love this. How long before you can get to the shop?”

“Tris is with us, so we’ll need to drop him off, then—”

“I’ll go with you,” he said.

“Sure?” Jecca asked. “A fabric store isn’t exactly a male place.”

“I think I can go and still retain my masculinity,” Tris said.

Jecca told Lucy and they hung up.

For a moment, Jecca and Tris rode in silence. “How’s your arm?” she asked.

“Aching but better. Jecca, about what I said earlier . . .”

“When you thought I was going back to New York?”

“Yes. I told you I was all grown up and could take the pain, but now I think I may not be as adult as I thought I was.”

Jecca looked out the window. At the moment she couldn’t imagine not being with him. In a short time their lives had become completely involved with each other’s. But she reminded herself that now wasn’t her real life. Her family was elsewhere, and there was no way she could be true to her own nature, to who she really was, in the small town. She couldn’t live without something creative to do with her life.

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“All right,” Tris said into the silence. “No more seriousness. Talk to me about your plans for Nell.”

Jecca was glad for the reprieve. She didn’t want to think about sad things. “How well do you know this woman Savannah?” she began.

By the time they got to the fabric store, Nell was awake and asking questions. Jecca told her of Lucy’s idea of putting on a show within a show.

“For the Davies of the school,” Nell said, and Tris laughed.

Jecca looked at them in question.

“Remember the people whose interiors and exteriors don’t match?” Tris asked, then Nell started explaining.

Jecca picked up her sketchbook off the car floor. “Think Davie could model a shirt and a pair of shorts that are perfect for an afternoon at the beach?”

“Yes!” Nell said.

It took hours at the fabric store to get all that they needed. Lucy and Jecca hovered over the pattern books to find ones that closest matched what Jecca had in mind, while Tris took Nell to the nearby deli and bookstore.

Jecca texted Tris when they were ready to start choosing fabric, and he and Nell walked back to the store. There was a great deal of discussion among the three females as they planned dress after blouse after trousers.

“And hats,” Nell said. “Hats to match everything.”

“I think she’s going to be a fashion designer,” Jecca said to Tris.

“No,” he said as he leaned over the cart they’d already filled with fabric, notions, and patterns. “Nell is going to be a doctor.”

Jecca frowned at him. “Don’t you think she should choose her own career?”

Tris shrugged. “Sometimes they choose us. In our family, medicine makes the choice. I got it; my sister didn’t; Nell did.”

Jecca could only stare at him. She hadn’t seen the slightest evidence that Nell was interested in medicine. The child seemed to like art better than anything else.

Tris was watching her and he smiled. “Nell, what’s this?” He put his finger on the base of the back of his neck.

“The medulla oblongata,” she said with barely a glance up from the bolt of fabric Lucy was holding.

“I didn’t teach her,” Tris said, “but now you see why my sister lets her spend so much time with me.”

“You’re kindred souls,” Jecca said, knowing that she’d only recently said that about her and Nell.

“Yes, but I want her to have more in life than just medicine. I don’t want her doing what I did—teething on a stethoscope and reading medical texts instead of kids’ books. I want—”

Jecca put her hand over his and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I understand,” she whispered.

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“No kissing!” Nell said, making Jecca and Tris laugh.

Jecca gave her attention back to the fabric, matching white with pink and green trim.

Tris, bored with his job of holding on to the carts, used his phone to take a photo of the three females bent over a pile of remnants.

“I’m sending this to Grandma,” he told Nell. “Think she’ll believe that I’m in a fabric store?”

“Tell her you’re practicing your sutures,” Lucy said.

Smiling, Tris typed out a message to his mother.

“Send a copy of that picture to my dad,” Jecca said and gave Tris the e-mail address.

Tris wrote a little generic message to Jecca’s father, but then he erased it. What was the saying about a faint heart not winning fair maiden? He took a deep breath to give himself courage, then began to type: D
EAR
M
R
. L
AYTON, MY NAME IS
T
RISTAN
A
LDREDGE
. I’
M
THE ONLY DOCTOR IN THIS SMALL TOWN AND
I’
M
IN LOVE WITH YOUR DAUGHTER AND WANT TO MARRY HER
. B
UT SHE SAYS SHE’S GOING BACK TO
N
EW
Y
ORK
. H
OW CAN
I
PERSUADE HER TO STAY
?

Before Tris lost his nerve, he sent the message.

“Did you send it?” Jecca asked.

“Oh yeah,” Tris said. “I did. I may have sent the message of my life. Forever.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Should I pay for these?”

“Sure,” Jecca said, then Lucy asked her to look at some blue cotton.

When Tris got to his car with the bags of purchases, his phone buzzed. It was an e-mail from Joe Layton, and Tris hesitated. The man would either bawl him out or—Actually, Tris couldn’t think of an alterative. He pushed the button and read:
MY JEC NEEDS HER FAMILY AND AN ART JOB. I’M FED UP HERE. YOUR TWO-BIT TOWN NEED A HARDWARE STORE? SEND MORE PHOTOS OF LUCY
.

Tris read the message three times before it sank in, then he leaned back against the car and laughed. If Joe Layton wanted photos of Lucy he’d send all he could get, including her chest X-rays.

Tris went back into the store. “Do you have your camera with you?” he asked Jecca. “And that cord that connects it to the phone?”

“Yes.” She looked hard at him as she got her camera out of her bag. “Did something happen? You look awfully pleased with yourself.”

“It’s just that Nell’s going to have a good time. I feel bad that I never realized how awful these parties have been for her. Add that to my neglhat">

“Why are you talking so fast? And you don’t feel any guilt about the playhouse. You want me to spend a year here working on it. What’s going on?” Jecca asked.

“I, uh . . . I . . . I need to call Roan.” Tris turned away so Jecca couldn’t see the smile that he couldn’t remove from his face. He stepped outside, and Roan answered on the first ring.

“Miss me already?” Roan asked.

“You know that place you own out on McTern Road?”

“Which one?”

“Used to be a brickyard,” Tris said.

“Yeah, about a hundred years ago.”

“Is it in good shape?” Tris asked.

“Hell no! It’s falling down. If you want to buy it I’ll give it to you cheap.”

“Get Rams to draw up the papers,” Tris said.