Alaskan Holiday
Page 28

Josie answered the door and greeted us with a huge grin. “You’re right on time.”
She should know by now that Jack had never been late for a meal in his entire life.
As we entered the cozy, warm living room, a middle-aged woman stepped out of the kitchen. She wore an apron decorated with holly berries tied around her waist, over dark pants and a red sweater. I was struck by the family resemblance and knew without an introduction that this was Josie’s mother.
“Mom,” Josie said to her mother, while moving to stand next to me. She wrapped her arm around mine. “This is Palmer and Jack, my friends from Ponder. Palmer and Jack, this is my mom, Gina Avery.”
“I’m pleased to meet you,” I said to Gina, and handed her the flowers we had bought at Pike Place.
“How thoughtful,” she said, accepting the bouquet. “Thank you, Palmer.”
“Thank you for the dinner invite,” I said.
Jack hadn’t said a word. I looked over and saw that he stood completely immobile. His eyes were wide and focused solely on Josie’s mother.
“Jack,” I said under my breath. “This is Josie’s mother.”
He continued to stare until I elbowed him in the ribs.
Jack stumbled forward as though in a trance. “Hello,” he said, in a voice I didn’t recognize.
Josie looked at me, curious about what had happened to Jack. I couldn’t explain it myself.
“Someone should have warned me,” Jack whispered.
I wasn’t sure he was talking to me. Warned him of what?
CHAPTER 15
Josie
Something had happened to Jack. He couldn’t stop staring at my mother. He hardly touched his meal, and that certainly wasn’t like him. The man was all about food. Palmer sat next to me at the table. We exchanged more than one troubled look, because Jack obviously wasn’t himself.
“Dinner was delicious,” Palmer mentioned when we’d finished the Guinness potpie. It was one of Mom’s specialties and a family favorite.
“You outdid yourself, Mom.” I added my own compliments, as she knew how important this evening was to me and had pulled out all the stops. I’d prepared baked Alaska for dessert, knowing Palmer would enjoy my choice.
“I’m glad you enjoyed the meal,” Mom told Palmer, and looked across the table at Jack. “You ate very little, Jack. Would you like me to fix you something else?”
Transfixed, Jack shook his head.
“You’re sure?”
Jack hadn’t said more than a few words since he walked in the door. I had no idea what had come over him.
Mom started to get up from the table and Jack fairly flew out of his seat and raced over to where she sat to pull out her chair.
My mother graciously smiled up at him. “Thank you, Jack.” She sent an inquisitive glance at me and I shrugged, not knowing what to tell her.
What happened next shocked me even more. Standing behind her, he leaned over and sniffed her neck.
“Jack!” Palmer cried. “What in the love of heaven are you doing?”
Mom frowned, not knowing what to think of Jack’s behavior.
“You’re smelling me,” Mom said, twisting around to look at Jack.
Jack’s eyes pleaded for forgiveness. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I wanted to know if you had a human scent. I can’t believe you’re real.”
“Real? Jack, buddy, what’s come over you?” Palmer asked gently.
Jack’s face, or what I could see of it outside of his beard, had turned a deepening shade of red. “Your mother looks like an angel.”
Mom blushed. “I can assure you I’m not.” She reached for her plate to carry it into the kitchen, but Jack wouldn’t allow it. He grabbed it out of her hand and then took his own plate and followed behind Mom like a lost puppy.
“What’s with Jack?” I asked Palmer. It was just the two of us at the table now, and he looked as perplexed as I did.
“This is crazy,” Palmer agreed. “I’ve never seen him like this.”
“Are you sure? You’ve known him for years. It’s like he’s walking around in a fog.”
A couple minutes later, Jack returned to the dining room. He paused in the doorway, looked at Palmer and me, pressed his hand over his heart, and nearly swooned.
“I’m in love,” he declared.
“Jack, you just met my mom,” I replied, determined to talk sense into him. One look at the way his eyes had glazed over told me he wasn’t ready to listen. Whatever it was about my mother that had entranced him remained a mystery. I could tell she was flustered at Jack’s attention.
Jack sat down across from us, crossed his arms on the table, and leaned forward to whisper, “The minute I set eyes on your mother, I felt this thing happen in my gut, like the flu bug hit me worse than any sickness I’ve ever had, worse than the bubonic plague.”
His love analogy could use a little work. No woman wanted to be compared to a pandemic.
“Did you see what happened to me? It was like I got hit with a sledgehammer.”
Again, his expression of love needed a tad bit more finesse.
“Your reaction to Gina was hard to miss,” Palmer told him, understating the obvious.
“I know. My tongue wouldn’t work and all I could do was stare. I couldn’t even touch my food! Even now I can’t believe that Gina isn’t a heavenly being, and that she’s actually a human.”
“What on earth prompted you to sniff her neck?”
Jack had the good grace to look embarrassed. “She forgave me like the angel she is.”
“Take my advice and don’t try it a second time,” I warned him. I knew my mom wouldn’t put up with that for long.
Leaning forward, Jack lowered his voice, as if his next words were of great importance. “Josie, I’ve got to know, and please be honest.”
Palmer and I shared a concerned look. Know what?
“Do I have a chance with your mother?” If he leaned any farther over the table, he’d have his face in the salad bowl. He eyes implored me to give him hope.
Not knowing what to tell him, I silently sought Palmer’s help. He knew Jack far better than I did. “I…”
Palmer held up his hand, stopping me. “Can you give Josie and me a minute to discuss this?” he asked his friend.
Jack glanced from Palmer to me and then back again before he agreed.
“In private,” Palmer clarified.
“In private,” Jack echoed. He pushed back the chair, moved into the living room, and paced in front of the Christmas tree. He reminded me of an expectant father awaiting the birth of his first child.
“What should I tell him?” I asked Palmer, not wanting to hurt or discourage Jack. At the same time, I wanted him to realize his behavior had likely worked against him as far as my mother was concerned. Jack was great, but as much as I cared about him, I couldn’t imagine my mother with someone like Jack. Mom was a city girl, even more than I was.
“Maybe you should talk to your mother, ask her,” Palmer advised.
“Good idea.” The only logical one. Besides, I should be helping my mother with making coffee. She’d gone into the kitchen and I’d intended to follow her. I would have if Jack hadn’t practically tripped over a chair in his eagerness to be of help.
“You go in with your mother,” Palmer suggested, “and I’ll do what I can to reason this out with Jack.”
We each left the table.
I found Mom leaning her hip against the countertop, tapping her index finger against her lips while deep in thought. She didn’t seem to notice that I’d entered the kitchen. Again, I wondered if there was something or perhaps someone that Mom wasn’t telling me about. My suspicions were raised when I’d asked her about her trip to Leavenworth. Her responses had been vague, and she’d quickly changed the subject, which was unlike her. She always loved telling me about her adventures after coming home from a trip. It all felt odd to me. I’d wanted to get to the bottom of what was happening, but there hadn’t been a chance.
“It appears you have an admirer in Jack,” I said. Mom stood next to the coffeepot, which had just finished brewing. Two cups and saucers, plus two mugs, sat in front of it.