Hot tears scalded her eyes. Who would have thought it?
At her age, when she’d thought this aspect of her life was over and done.
She swayed against him but he held her firmly, a rock on which she could safely lean.
When he finally released her, she felt dizzy and heavy with longing. “You don’t want to wait?”
“The good thing about maturity is that you’ve learned there is no point in waiting around for something you already know you want.” He took her hand and led her toward the house.
“My daughter is in hospital—”
“And she’s safe. But if you’d rather wait—” He paused, ever thoughtful. Ever caring.
Ben.
“No.” Life was short, and she’d already waited long enough.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, she gazed at the house.
A light glowed in the kitchen and she could hear the call of seagulls.
“It’s looking good, isn’t it?” As far as she was concerned, The Captain’s House had never looked better. Who would have thought that a big clear out and some love and attention would make such a difference? It was as if it had shaken off the tiredness. “It’s been given a new lease on life.”
Tightening her grip on Ben’s hand, she walked into the house, hoping the same thing was about to happen to her.
30
Jenna
Resolution: determination to do something
or not do something
“Can I get you anything else?” Greg hovered over her like a drone. “More soup? Another drink? Painkillers?”
“I’m fine.” Truthfully she wasn’t fine. She felt exhausted. The doctor had said that was normal, but she was worried about taking so much time off from work. Lindsey Hanks, one of the other teachers, was covering her class but she knew how much stress that would cause. “Maybe I can go back to work Monday.”
“No way. You had surgery and spent five days in hospital. I saw Jed Andrews this morning when I went to fill your prescription, and he gave me a vivid description of how they had to cut you out of the car. You could have been killed.”
“But I wasn’t.”
The doorbell rang and Greg went to answer it.
He returned with armfuls of flowers and a stack of cards.
Jenna opened them one by one, tears in her eyes.
To Mrs. Sullivan. You are the best teecher. Come back soon.
Mrs. Sullivan, we miss you. Miss Hanks shouts more.
Mrs. Sullivan, sorry you broke your car.
There were paintings, heavy on the glitter and glue, and she examined each one carefully, imagining the children sitting quietly, their little faces set in concentration as they splashed paint and sprinkled glitter.
A painting session was not for the fainthearted. She made a mental note to thank Lindsey Hanks.
“They love you.” Greg moved the cards carefully and sat down on the bed. “I saw Lindsey in the store yesterday and she said they’re making you a class video.”