fine. It was good.
It was great.
She just hadn’t spent any time in proximity to him with other people around, much less his dad.
“Okay, everyone, I think we’re finally ready.” Jamila shooed them into the dining room. She started pointing to spots and naming who she wanted where. “Nora, you go there, next to Jake.”
Nora obeyed, despite the fact that her body was mutinying. It was confused. It had been conditioned to respond physically to Jake when he was nearby. It had not been conditioned to sit quietly next to him through what, judging by the enormity of the feast laid out on the table, was going to be a very long dinner.
Nora laid her napkin in her lap and looked to Jamila for a cue to begin eating.
Jamila held up her hands and said, “Grace!”
Oh no. This wasn’t a fold-your-hands-in-your-lap kind of grace. It was a hand-holding grace.
She tried to concentrate on Clara’s hand, which was small and cool, rather than on Jake’s, which was, as had been well established in recent days, big and hot and the perfect mixture of rough and gentle.
“Lord, we give thee thanks for what we are about to receive, today and every day. Bless those at this table as well as those who are absent from us, may they rest in peace. Bless this circle of family and friends. Bless our newcomer, Dr. Walsh, who is so very needed in our community. In thy name, amen.”
“Thank you, my dear,” Art said.
Everybody dropped hands. Except Jake didn’t let go of hers. He was holding it under the table—so no one could see, which she supposed was a small mercy. She tugged as subtly as she could. He did not let go. He appeared unmoved as he picked up his fork with his left hand—he was seated to her left, so his right hand was joined with her left. The dude was right-handed. She knew that for a fact. Completely unruffled, he speared a roast potato and popped it in his mouth.
Oh hell no. They were not going to spend the whole meal secretly holding hands. What happened to “I don’t do romance”?
Forget subtle. She yanked.
Success! But it did cause everyone’s attention to shift to her. Her not-subtle yank had had the effect of tugging Jake toward her before it managed to sever their connection, so they were face to face in a way that probably looked weird.
“Did you grow up in this house, Jake?” she asked, trying to make it look like she’d turned to him to ask him this totally innocent question.
“Nope.” He picked up his fork with his right hand.
So he was going to retreat into his Mute Jake persona. She refrained from rolling her eyes, but only just.
“I moved here after my first wife—Jake’s mom—died,” Art said. “We lived just a block over. I wanted to stay in the neighborhood, but I didn’t need that big a house anymore.”
Jamila smiled at him affectionately. “We thought about upsizing after I came on the scene, but Art has this idea that we’re going to buy an RV and live like vagabonds after I retire, which is at the end of this school year.”
“You say ‘idea’ like you’re not into it, but you know you’re into it,” Art teased. Nora thought back to the way they had bantered at the flu clinic.
“Oh, hush.”
“She’s even designed the interior,” Art said. “She’s a pretty serious antiques collector.” He beamed with obvious pride. It was adorable. “This is going to be the best-looking RV in the history of RVs.”
“If this place is anything to go by, I suspect you’re right,” Nora said. “Your home is beautiful.”
“You have any luck finding a new place?” Jamila asked. “Don’t forget I can lend you furniture.”
Nora winced. She hadn’t even started looking. She was too busy working to make time to go on the hunt. Okay, no, that wasn’t true. She was too busy getting it on with Jake to go on the hunt.
“I haven’t.” She glanced at Eve. “I really need to get on that.”
“Not on my account, you don’t,” Eve said. “It’s been awesome having you at the inn. And you’re making it possible for us to go on vacation.”
“Well, thanks. You really saved me there.”
“I like the idea that my old room is being put to good use.”
Jake coughed. “Yeah, it’s good to…put things to use.”
She knew he was thinking of the same thing she was—hitting “first base” in that room the day of the Anti-Festival.
Everyone looked at Jake