“Which is why we’re sitting here. Discussing what’s the right step for you. Because the last thing I want is to make you sad.”
“That might be the nicest thing I’ve ever heard on a first date,” she said. “But in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a big girl now.”
He nodded.
“And you need help. Especially with the finances.”
“Desperately,” he agreed.
“I’ve been going pretty much from one patient to the next now for eight and a half years.”
“A long time.”
“Not to mention how I spent the past nineteen months caring for Dino. He became a close friend. Something I don’t normally allow to happen.” She waved that aside. “I need a break. But I’m not the kind of person who’s happy sitting around doing nothing.”
“You make a strong argument.”
“Oh, is that what we’re doing?” Her teeth gleamed in the darkness. “I thought this was a conversation between pals.”
He decided this was as good a point as any to restart the truck. Noah waited until he had pulled back onto the road to say, “You’d be welcome anytime you want to show up.”
“That’s not what we’re talking about,” Jenna said. “I want you to rely on me. The regular unpaid helper.”
He did not respond. There was no way he was going to say what he was thinking. That he was filled with a sudden desire to see this develop into something more than just working together on his boat. Or how much that frightened him. How all the wrong moves and horrible endings burned his nights.
When he pulled into her drive, Noah was still looking for something to say, anything that sounded decent enough in his head to let it out. He settled on, “I wish I could have met Dino.”
“He would have liked you.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re his kind of guy.”
“Nearly broke,” Noah suggested. “Jobless. Homeless. Crazy about boats.”
“A straight shooter. Direct. Calm. And . . .”
“What?”
She opened her door. “Was that a yes?”
CHAPTER13
Eleven days later, Jenna had almost grown accustomed to being surrounded by cops.
Zia came most days after his shift ended and worked like an angry bear for a couple of hours. He was often accompanied by two of his fellow officers from the San Lu force. They in turn started bringing their families. And dogs.
Zia’s days off, he brought his two preteen sons and wife, Briana, who were almost as passionate about boats and the sea as Zia. His family claimed to love working on the kind of yacht they could never dream of affording. Trusting that Noah was right, that the boat would float. And they might one day travel the Pacific in style.
Zia just complained.
Amos was often accompanied by Aldana, his Honduran wife, and their two teenage daughters. Amos continued to insist he was totally indifferent to the entire episode. That was his favorite word for describing the days and hours he spent in Noah’s company, just another episode he had to endure. His wife and daughters, however, were totally boat mad. They all enjoyed spending time with the group and clearly loved their newfound relative. Noah’s gratitude for their company and help was touching.
Ethan was there almost every day after the bank closed. He was a master when it came to small and intricate work. More often than not, he brought Liam. When Ryan’s schedule allowed, she came out and cooked a meal large enough for the entire crew and their families. Various people served as Ryan’s assistants. Twice during those initial two weeks Ryan was accompanied by the Miramar Chief of Police, Porter Wright, and his wife, Carol.
That evening, when Sol Feinnes arrived without warning, there were seven cop cars parked in the drive and the yard and the road that ended by the farmhouse. Half a dozen kids and as many dogs raced in the field beyond the barn, chasing Frisbees and footballs. Amos and Aldana tended a fire pit, basting a side of beef with their brand of barbecue sauce. Ryan was seated on the porch with Liam on his knees by her rocker, drawing. Earlier that week he had temporarily put his ghouls aside and started doing faces. A flat rate for purchasing his portraits had been set by the mother in question. Thirty bucks. A fortune to the twelve-year-old. Even so, Liam rarely relinquished hold of a sketch. For the mother, it was a happy way of turning her son further away from the undead.
Jenna was using a newly purchased food processor to chop cabbage and carrots with a few green peppers and a hint of kale for her special coleslaw recipe. The air was rich with fragrances of roasting potatoes and meat and fresh-baked bread. She watched Sol spot her through the open kitchen window, climb the rear steps, and be halted by the sight of Liam’s drawing. She dried her hands and stepped through the screen door. “This is where I ask you what you’re doing here.”
