“Coffee we have. I’ll get you a cup.”
Hailey watched her go. The last thing her stomach needed was coffee. An antacid would be a better choice. Having a purpose was important to a person’s mental health, and she’d just handed her mother the first purpose she could think of.
* * *
“Dowe have any more paper for the printer?” She’d printed reams of statistics to analyze. She worked better on paper than on screen. It could all be shredded and recycled later. When she didn’t get an answer, Hailey wandered into the front of the store, twisting and turning to ease the ache in her back. How long had she been buried in the computer? Hours at least. It felt like days.
“Mrs. Jepson, I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, greeting the customer her mother was ringing up. Fit and fabulous, Mrs. Jepson didn’t look a day over fifty, when she was actually pushing sixty. The only give away were the laugh lines around her eyes and her salt and pepper hair.
“Hailey, nice to see you. I just popped by to pick up one of those cute bisque figurines, the ones with the bears. It’s for my first grandbaby.”
“Congratulations. You must be thrilled.”
“Oh, I am.” She placed her hands over her heart and smiled blissfully. “I was just telling your mom it’s time for you to add to the family. I don’t expect your sister will have more than the two she already has.”
“No, she probably won’t. But I’m not there yet. Though I do want kids.” Ugh. Why was she explaining herself to this woman? Her life was what it was, no explanations required.
“Oh, right. Sorry.” Mrs. Jepson clamped a hand over her mouth. “I’d forgotten you broke up with Evan. How sad.”
Great! Barely home a day and the gossips had found her already. “Life throws us curve balls, but you have to fish or cut bait and then move on,” she quipped, in a horrible mixing of metaphors. “Speaking of moving on, I’m just going to move on out and get some computer paper. Nice to see you Mrs. Jepson.”
Snow continued to drift lazily down, buffeted back and forth by a light breeze. She’d need to shovel in front of the store, again, when she returned from Paper Works, the local office supply store. She rotated her shoulders to ease the tension lodged between her shoulder blades. Sitting too long at the computer had seized her up. Either that or the day’s stress.
She’d forgotten to take a break. The history and sales numbers were fascinating. Already, she was detecting sales patterns and not only seasonal slumps and peaks.
She waved to people she knew as she strolled to the far end of the block, past Beth’s Beans and the bank. The light breeze was biting. She stuffed her hands into her pockets.
Hammering filtered through her thoughts of sales and marketing. Ahead, outside of Paper Works, a familiar figure in a heavy canvas jacket was nailing trim around the store’s window.
“Afternoon, Jesse,” she called out.
“Hailey. Hi there. You look a little better rested.”
The backhanded compliment pleased her. “Thanks.” He looked different today. His clothing was still tattered but something had changed.
His beard.
“You trimmed your beard,” she blurted, then winced.
“Yeah. It was time. I debated shaving, but it keeps me warm when I work outside. On days like today, I’d have frostbite.” He chuckled. His wide smile lit his entire face. He was almost handsome. She couldn’t help but smile back.
“New window?”
“It is. Better R-value. Triple pane. Argon filled for better insulation. I’m replacing them all and changing out the door. They’ll save on heating this year. Which will help their bottom line.”
Jesse always had done well in science. She was ashamed she’d let his ragged clothing color her view of his intelligence and abilities.
“You do a lot of windows?”
He shrugged. “Enough. A little of this. A little of that. I pick up odd jobs here and there. I have to earn enough to keep the heat on and mom likes it warm.”
He still lived at home? Life must have been hard on him. He’d always been a hard worker; something must have changed to keep him at home. At least he wasn’t homeless. She pushed the unworthy thought away. She had to stop judging without having all the facts.
“How is your mom, and your sister?” she asked.
“Amy Jo’s good. Married with three kids. I don’t see them much, except on holidays.” He paused. “Mom…Mom’s mom. Nothing new there.” He glanced at the window and back at her, his smile vanished.
“Oh.” She didn’t know how to respond to his enigmatic statement.
