Paper Hearts (33 page)

A
BIGAIL HADN’T GONE IN TO WORK
for three straight days. She lay on the couch watching reruns of
Gilmore Girls
and wishing her phone would stop buzzing. Between Mallory, Betsy, and her mother, the thing hadn’t stopped for hours.

She didn’t want to talk to them. She didn’t want to be a business owner right now. Or a sister. Or a daughter. She just wanted to be sad. She knew it was pathetic, but for once, she decided not to care.

The knock on her door just after lunchtime startled her. Who would dare come over in the middle of the day? She was still in pajamas, no makeup, hair in a ponytail. By all accounts, she looked like a disaster. And so did her house.

“I know you’re in there, Pressman.”

Abigail groaned and pulled the afghan over her face. “I don’t want to see anybody right now, Ursula. Please?”

Ursula jiggled the doorknob, and Abigail said a silent prayer of thanks that she’d had the foresight to lock it.

It was a short-lived bout of gratitude. The door popped open and Ursula nearly fell onto the floor.

Abigail shot upright from her spot on the couch. “How did you do that?”

Ursula held up a hairpin. “Frankie taught me everything.”

She decided she’d rather not know any more than that. She plopped back down on the couch and tucked the blanket up to her neck.

Ursula surveyed the room, then surveyed Abigail. “You’re a wreck.”

“What’s your point?”

Ursula started digging through her purse. “We have more letters for you to reply to.”

She could not be serious.

The woman pulled a stack of papers from her purse and set them on the table. “Just a few.”

“I don’t want to read any more stupid letters,” Abigail said. “Just kick me out of the Valentine Volunteers, okay?”

Ursula waved her off and moved toward the kitchen. “You got anything to eat around here?”

Abigail didn’t even know the answer to that question. She could hear Ursula rummaging through the cabinets. Eventually the woman returned to the living room with a plate of fruit and cheese and what looked like half a package of Oreos.

She plopped down in the chair across from Abigail. “So you’re going to
wallow
, is that it?”

Abigail groaned and covered her nose and mouth with a throw pillow. “Yes. Will you let me wallow in peace?”

Ursula crunched a cookie, dropping crumbs down the front of her shirt. “I didn’t just come here to dump work on your plate. I came because your doctor called me the other day.”

Abigail sat up. “Jacob called
you
?”

Ursula glared at her. “Don’t look so surprised, Pressman. The
man finally came to his senses. Asked if my offer to buy the building was still good.” Her eyebrows shot up as if to say,
“So there.”

Abigail’s heart dropped. “Did you tell him about the agreement Harriet made with my dad?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“He said that’s great, but he wants to sell the building so you can have the whole thing.”

Abigail straightened and pulled her legs underneath her, sitting cross-legged on the couch. “But he’s already so far into the renovations. The plans are perfect.”

Ursula crunched another cookie. “This is what you wanted, right? Now you can move on with your original plan. Looks like everything is working out.”

If everything was working out, why did she feel so terrible? It
was
what she wanted, but now that she’d entertained the idea of her own fresh start, something about going back felt wrong. And besides, how did she steal Jacob’s chance at a new life
 
—a life he and Junie needed?

“Did he say where he’s going to go?”

She shrugged. “Said something about moving out East.”

The air thinned and Abigail struggled to get a good breath.

“What’s wrong, Pressman? Your dreams are all coming true, right?”

Abigail met Ursula’s eyes.

The woman sat forward in her chair, elbows on her knees. “Right?”

Abigail shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

Why did she get the feeling Ursula was pushing her toward something?

“I’m mad at him, but I don’t want to ruin him,” Abigail said. “He’s been through so much, Ursula. More than any person
should ever have to go through.” She glanced up. “I know you think I’m soft.”

Ursula sat back and ate a slice of cheese. “Actually, I called this from the beginning.”

“Called what?”

“You and the doctor. I told Gigi he was your perfect match, but she wouldn’t listen.”

Abigail frowned. “You’re not making any sense. You’ve been trying to destroy Jacob from the start.”

“Right.” She nodded as if that were sufficient explanation.

“I hardly think you of all people would consider him a good match for anybody. You always point out all the reasons I should be angry with him.”

Ursula stood. “Do you have anything to drink?”

Abigail watched as the woman disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of iced tea.
Help yourself.

She sat back down and continued eating.

“Ursula?”

“Hm?” She looked up. “Oh yes. I did do that,” she said, pointing her cookie at Abigail as she spoke.

Why did she feel like a character in an episode of
The Twilight Zone
?

“But only to get you to figure out you had feelings for him.”

Now she’d heard everything. “You tried to get us fighting so I’d figure out I had feelings for him?”

“Are you going to repeat everything I say?” Ursula looked at her. “Because I don’t like that.”

“Sorry.”

“Frankie and I met in a restaurant. He was a customer and I was a waitress.”

Abigail chose not to comment on the picture that painted.

“You can imagine I wasn’t the kind of waitress who just took orders from people, and I didn’t appreciate it when Frankie
snapped his fingers at me and called me ‘waitress.’ Especially since he wasn’t even sitting at my table. So I told him so.”

Abigail felt her eyebrows rise. “Did he get mad?”

“Oh yeah. We had a knock-down, drag-out right there in the restaurant. I almost lost my job. Found out later Frankie went in and told the manager he’d stop eating there if he fired me. Said he’d only come back in when I was working.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That man loved fighting with me. I loved fighting with him. Passion is passion. I just thought you two could use a little, is all.” She twisted open an Oreo and ate one of the wafers. “And I was right too.”

“I don’t think so, Ursula. I think maybe you were wrong to think I had a perfect match at all.”

Ursula ate the rest of the cookie, then wiped her hands on her pants. “Then I’ll buy the building.”

Abigail didn’t respond, but something inside her shouted,
No!

“You good with that?” Her expression seemed to accuse. “You’ll get your store back and nothing will change. You’ll go on living the same life you’ve been living. Just like you wanted.” She nodded. “The doctor moves away and we all carry on as if none of this ever happened.”

Abigail couldn’t bear the thought of Jacob moving away. She could be a part of his fresh start, couldn’t she? Would he allow her to be? Could they, like John and Elsie, forgive and move on?

“I don’t want that anymore, Ursula.” Abigail swallowed, her throat dry. “I want Jacob to stay.”

She expected Ursula to mock her or at least make a snide remark, but instead the old woman leaned forward and took Abigail’s hand. “Congratulations, young lady. You’ve officially learned what real love is.”

U
RSULA
P
EMBROOKE HAD SAID
she would consider Jacob’s offer and get back to him, but she sure was taking her time. A week after their initial phone call, she finally called to set up a meeting to discuss the terms.

“I spoke to Pressman. She’s grateful and all that. Meet me at the building at lunchtime and we’ll discuss the particulars then.”

“Fine.”

“Don’t think you’re gonna bleed me dry, Doc. Remember, I know what you paid for that building.”

Jacob remembered. He ended the call and walked into the living room, where Kate and Junie were playing a game.

“I’ve got to go to the building,” Jacob said. “I have a meeting.”

Kate perked up. “Can we come? We’ve been stuck inside almost all weekend. Moon-Face needs some fresh air.”

It was true
 
—they’d been treating Junie as though she were on
bed rest, but she was learning to maneuver on crutches. “Can you keep her occupied during my meeting?”

Junie nodded. “I’ll bring my notebook. I want to be an artist.” She held up a large pad of paper. On it, Junie had drawn what looked like a road with large red hearts on the lampposts.

“I made this heart for you, Daddy.” She pointed to one at the center. He picked up the paper and inspected the words more carefully.

Thanks for the new home, Daddy. Love, JMW.

“JMW,” she said proudly. “That’s me, Junie Moon Willoughby. See?”

Words formed at the back of his throat, but emotion kept them locked there. Instead he kissed his little girl on the top of the head. It would break her heart to leave this place, and he knew it, but what other choice did he have?

He had to protect her. She didn’t need to know the truth about the way Gwen died. If he could keep that reality from her forever, he would.

The last thing he wanted was for someone to slip and tell her before he was good and ready
 
—the same way Cecily had broken the news about the paper hearts to Abigail. What a disaster that turned out to be.

“Stay here, Daisy,” Jacob said.

The dog whimpered but did as she was told, plopping down in the center of the porch as if to guard the house. He shut and locked the screen door.

“All right, let’s go.” He led them to the truck, Junie moving tentatively on her crutches.

He drove in silence while Kate and Junie belted out a haphazard rendition of the Beatles’ “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da.”

When they reached the end, Kate turned to him from the passenger seat. “Who is this meeting with?”

He glanced back at Junie. She flipped through a book, humming happily to herself. Jacob looked at his sister. “Someone who offered to buy the building,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

“What? Why?”

He made the turn onto the main highway leading into town. “It’s a long story.”

He could feel Kate glaring at him. “Is this about Abigail?”

“No.” He tapped his thumb on the steering wheel. “Not exactly.”

“What did you do? More mixed signals?”

He sighed. “No, my signals were very clear. And then she found out about the paper hearts. And about Gwen. And about why we moved here in the first place.”

Kate stared at him. “So?”

“What do you mean, so?”

She shrugged. “What is the big deal? This really tragic thing happened to you. Big deal if people look at you weird for a little while.”

Jacob held up a hand as if that could make her stop talking.

“I’m just saying, Jacob, you’re so hard on yourself all the time. Give her a chance.” Kate pulled her legs under her and glanced out the window. Six horses grazed in the foothills near a big ranch, and she strained her neck looking at them.

“Why don’t you give yourself a chance and stop worrying about me?”

She frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Go to that ranch and get yourself a job. And if not that ranch, another one. Do what you love already.”

A grin slowly spread across her face. “You mean it?”

He turned onto Wilson and headed toward Main Street. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, Katie, it’s that if you’re actually
passionate about something, you’ve got to run with it. It’s worth the risk.”

The grin seemed permanently stuck on her face now. “That’s good advice. You should listen to yourself once in a while.”

Thanks to Avery, the little girl he’d saved after Kate’s coffee shop concert, and surprisingly, Daisy, he’d rediscovered his passion for healing
 
—but he’d have to explore that somewhere else. Staying in Loves Park would be about the worst thing he could do.

He turned down the alley behind the building, but there was nowhere to park. Every spot was filled.

“Maybe Abigail is having a going-out-of-business sale.” Kate did nothing to hide her disappointment.

He hated that he didn’t know what she was doing with her business. Hated that he didn’t have the right to know. “I don’t think she’s going to be out of business.”

“You think the buyer will let her stay?” Kate half mouthed the words, glancing at Junie in the rearview mirror.

Jacob responded with a nod as he parked down the alley and out of the way. They walked slowly, accommodating Junie’s boot, and Jacob couldn’t help but look in Abigail’s window as they passed by. Even catching one glimpse of her might help ease this dull ache that seemed to follow him. He missed her. He missed talking to her and making her smile.

If he were a real man, he’d pick up the phone and call her, but that would probably be unwelcome. He’d horrified even himself with his admission about Gwen. How would she ever forget that?

No. Enough. He’d resolved to stop beating himself up over that. For Junie’s sake.
I’m forgiven.
He said the words daily, and while he didn’t believe them yet, he had hope that one day he would.

He noticed the door had been propped open. Ursula Pembrooke wasn’t kidding. She did have connections. Someone had let her in the building already.

He pulled the door wider but was met with the sound of voices.

“What in the world?” Jacob moved into the back room of what would’ve been his future clinic, which looked completely different than it had before. Plastic sheets were hung from the ceiling, and as the door closed behind them, the sound of a table saw rang out in the main room. He’d told Ursula he’d sell, but the deal was hardly done. Who did she think she was, starting work before the papers were signed?

He pushed aside the plastic sheet and moved into the open space. The mercantile counter had been moved, the floors were covered with tarps, and people bustled through the room. At least twenty-five people worked at what appeared to be their assigned tasks.

Where had they all come from?

Across the room, Jacob spotted Ralph, but before he could get his attention, a woman rushed over to them. “’Bout time you got here. Better put this on.” She held up a hard hat, then hurried to a box on the counter. She returned with a pink, child-size hard hat. On it, the words
Junie Moon
. She knelt down. “Abigail said you like pink.”

Junie smiled at the woman as she put the hat on the little girl’s head, then handed a hard hat to Kate.

“We want to be sure you’re all safe. Do you like it in here so far?”

Jacob frowned. He probably deserved her insensitivity. “It’s looking good.”

She pulled Jacob away from the others. “I have to tell you, when I read the article, my heart just leaped. Those paper hearts stole
everyone’s
hearts. The whole town is cheering for you now, Dr. Willoughby.” She squeezed his arm. “To think I thought you were the worst kind of person kicking Abigail out. Turns out you’re the most loving one of all.”

Jacob’s mouth went dry, and he attempted a response, but the woman saw someone else come in and off she went.

Kate took a few steps toward him. “What is going on?”

“I have no idea.”

“Ralph, you’re a genius. I love the way you jazzed up the entryway.”

Jacob turned and saw Abigail standing near the front door, wearing her own hard hat and leaning over what looked like blueprints.

His heart ached for her. He wanted to walk straight over to her, pull her into his arms, and never let go.

Instead he turned away. She’d already begun renovating, and worse
 
—she was using his contractor and his workers.

Maybe Kelly was right. She did have a cold side.

“Who are you meeting with?” Kate folded her arms. “And what’s happening to your building?”

“Renovations. What’s it look like?” Ursula Pembrooke had appeared beside them, closing the door that led to the basement.

Inspecting the pipes again?

“Don’t you think you should’ve consulted with the owner first?” Kate hadn’t had a run-in with Ursula yet. She was itching for a fight.

Jacob put a hand on her arm. “It’s fine, Kate. Why don’t you take Junie over there?” He pointed to a corner that looked unoccupied
 
—and hopefully harmless.

“Can we get this over with?” Jacob glanced back at Abigail, who looked cute in that construction getup. This was good. Making her dream happen was good. She looked happier than he’d seen her before. It was a relief not to be the one standing in the way of her dreams anymore.

“Don’t you want to talk to Abigail first?” Ursula’s eyebrows drew together as she zeroed in on him.

“Probably better to just sign the papers and go.”

Ursula gave one sharp nod. “Right.” She took a step toward the front of the space. “Pressman!” she yelled. “Visitor!”

Abigail turned and met his eyes. So much for a clean getaway.

Ursula clapped a hand on his back. “You can thank me later.” She walked away.

Abigail rolled up the blueprints she’d been discussing with the traitor Ralph and took a few steps to meet him at the center of the room.

“Hey.” She smiled at him from underneath that too-big-for-her-head hard hat.

Before he could respond, a man approached him. “Doc, I’ve got this pain in my stomach every night after I eat. Feels like I’m dying. Is that the kind of thing you can diagnose?”

Jacob glanced at Abigail, who appeared to be stifling a grin.

“I could, sure,” Jacob said. “Why don’t I come find you before I leave?”

The man shook his hand. “Good to have a real doctor right here in Loves Park. I’ll be over there. My job’s clearing away refuse.” He pronounced the words very carefully as if someone had given him an order.

The man walked away.

“That was Ned,” Abigail said. “I’d imagine he’s got really bad gas, but I’m no doctor.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow. “What would lead you to this diagnosis?”

She shrugged. “He always smells like he’s got really bad gas.”

Despite his confusion, Jacob laughed, then glanced around his building. “You didn’t waste any time,” he said as he felt his smile fade.

“Well, it was just sitting here, begging to be repaired. You got so much done so quickly.”

“And you have to redo all that, I imagine?” Most of the work he and Ralph had done appeared to still be intact. In fact, none of it had been redone, only added to.

“Why would we do that? You did great work.”

He looked at her. “I didn’t think my plans for the clinic were conducive to your plans for the new store.”

“Jacob, this isn’t my store.” Abigail took a step back, and he noticed she had the room’s attention. Then, like an announcer on a stage, she said, “You’re standing in the center of Willoughby Medical.”

A cheer went up around the room, the workers now focused on him and Abigail, center stage. Once their applause subsided, Abigail continued.

“These people aren’t here for me. They’re here for you.”

Jacob’s eyes darted around the room. “I-I don’t understand.”

One by one, the workers approached him, shaking his hand or patting him on the back, thanking him for choosing Loves Park. Last week people held picket signs outside the building in protest, and today he was welcomed with open arms. How had this happened?

Abigail.
Somehow she’d done this. She wanted him to stay?

“This town needs you. A doctor who is knowledgeable, but also someone who’s caring and loving and knit into the fabric of Loves Park. They’ve decided they want you.” Abigail smiled as the workers returned to their tasks. “Want me to show you what we’ve done?”