“It might,” Pearl affirmed. “But J.P. is used to people running when things get hard. He lost his entire crew when he went on trial. Some of those guys he’d been friends with since elementary school. Doesn’t talk to any of them now. They left him high and dry.”
Nora frowned. “That’s terrible.”
Pearl nodded. “And Kenzie left him when he was in between jobs. When the money wasn’t there, she bailed.”
Nora hadn’t known that, and the revelation made her mouth go sour.
“He needs someone to stand by him during this, Nora. Not someone who’s going to run like all the rest of them.”
But this was different. Nora was the entire reason J.P. was in this awful predicament to begin with. Why would he even want her to stick around once he knew the truth?
Pearl’s hand slid back to rest in her own lap. “Do you love him?”
That was a question Nora couldn’t answer. Her face stayed neutral.
“Let me rephrase that,” Pearl said, sensing the hesitation. “Can you see things going somewhere with J.P.?”
“Up until last night, yes, I could.”
“And the only thing that changed between now and then is—”
“That I burnt an entire house down!”
Pearl flapped a hand in the air. “That’s not the real issue here, Nora, and we both know it. You’re worried he won’t be able to forgive you for it, aren’t you? That he’ll cut you out and never look back.”
“Of course, I’m worried about that.”
“Forgiveness isn’t something J.P. struggles with,” Pearl said knowingly. “He might be slow to give it sometimes, but eventually, he always does.”
Nora’s thoughts flashed back to J.P.’s admission that he’d been wrong about her bees. It had taken some time to get there, but he wasn’t too proud to realize his ways. There was a sense of humility in that, a trait that went hand in hand with forgiveness. His character was so much deeper than she’d given him credit for, filled with a level of grace she hadn’t expected.
“So you must understand that I couldn’t let you tell him all of this in a letter.” Pearl’s chin dipped in a gentle nudge toward the paper gripped between Nora’s fingers. “I think we can agree he deserves more than that.”
“I know he does,” Nora choked out. “It was the easy way out.”
“Not easy,” Pearl recognized. “But maybe just a little bit easier.” Her mouth tipped into a grin when she added, “And I know I’m biased, but I believe my son is worth putting in the extra effort.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
J.P. was intentionally avoiding Nora.
Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday passed without seeing her. It was hard to keep her at a distance like this, but J.P. wanted this project to be a surprise. He knew if he encountered her, he wouldn’t be able to keep it buttoned up. He would blurt it out like front page news.
J.P. had never been good with secrets, anyway. As a kid, when he worked on a special project for his mother, he would have to pick something he could construct within the span of her eight-hour shift. As soon as he would hear the garage door roll up, he would race to meet her in the hall with his project in hand, proudly showing it off.
A similar anticipation expanded within him now with each swing of his hammer, each staple from the gun.
Sometimes, when he would lie awake at night, he pictured the big reveal in his head. It played out like a movie behind his eyelids. Nora’s reaction was always large, that passionate personality of hers shining in her approving, wide grin and enormous hug that followed. In J.P.’s visions, he would lift her into the air and swing her around, feet suspended off of the ground, voices squealing with laughter.
It was the hope of that reaction that somehow made the avoidance okay. It was the only way J.P. could justify ignoring her calls or delaying his text replies. He always managed an excuse, but he was running out of creativity when it came to conjuring those up.
Poor Waylon could only be blamed for so much. In the last three days, the dog had an imaginary bur in his ear that needed the vet’s immediate attention, a run-in with a devious dog catcher, and a shampoo and blow-out appointment at the Bow Wow Boutique. That last one wasn’t a lie. J.P. decided it was finally time for the mutt to get a proper grooming, and boy had Waylon loved it.
But, come Tuesday evening, J.P. had exhausted all of his imaginary alibis.
“What’s so interesting on that phone of yours?” Pearl hung her gardening apron on a crooked nail in the shed and closed the door, stepping out to glimpse J.P. staring at the screen in his palm.
“Just another text from Nora.”
