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“I can only do what I can do,” she reminded herself as she watched the vacuum return to its home base. It chirped a couple more times, then went silent as it began recharging.
More interesting than the test or the noise was the fact that Belle had spent the last hour comfortably dozing on the sofa, barely raising her head to take note of her former enemy. Apparently her lone act of bravery in protecting Harrison had lasting and very positive repercussions.
“Who knows what you’ll be doing in a few weeks?” she told Belle.
Her dog stretched and closed her eyes, as if saying she wasn’t ready to discuss that just now. Reggie smiled, then went into the kitchen to empty the dishwasher. Her parents were both at work today—her mom subbing for the office manager who was home with a bad cold.
She put away dishes and what felt like every bowl in the kitchen. They’d made pancakes that morning, and for reasons she couldn’t explain, that process involved more bowls than seemed natural. She hesitated before putting away the old-fashioned egg beater, not sure where it belonged. It was probably the last working one in the country, but her mother insisted that it was required to beat the eggs before they were added. Fluffy eggs meant fluffy pancakes.
She finished with the dishwasher, then stood in the center of the room, not sure what to do with herself. Another inventor was sending her an invention to review, but it wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow. Belle’s dress for the wedding was finished, and she’d transplanted all the Christmas cactus. She still had to tie ribbons on them, but wasn’t ready to start that project. She supposed she could work on the slideshow that would be playing during the reception, but wasn’t sure she could sit still for that long. She felt restless and unsettled, and she knew the reason: Harrison.
She’d been unable to stop thinking about what had happened to him and how he’d reacted. She had questions, of course, but wasn’t sure she should ask them. Even more troubling, she hadn’t heard from Toby since the incident. She’d texted a few hours later to ask if Harrison was feeling better. Toby’s brief He’s fine hadn’t seemed very friendly. She didn’t think he was blaming her for what had happened, so she wasn’t sure why he’d been so terse.
The doorbell rang, causing both dogs to come to their feet. Burt went running toward the front of the house, barking all the way. Belle stretched before following. Reggie crossed her fingers, hoping that Toby had decided to stop by to explain things, but when she opened the front door, there was a different man on the porch.
“Jake!” She stared at him. “You’re a surprise.”
“A good one or a bad one?”
“A good one.”
She waved him inside, then stepped aside so Burt and Belle could greet him. Her Great Dane had always liked Jake—not with any kind of Harrison enthusiasm—and she wanted her head scratched before she was willing to get out of the way.
“I hope this is an okay time,” he said, looking at her. “I thought we could catch up.”
Weird, but sure, she thought, taking his coat. “I just finished up a report for work, so I’m available.” She led him into the family room. “Can I get you coffee or something?”
“No, thanks.”
They sat on opposite ends of the sectional, facing each other. Having him here was unexpected, but not as uncomfortable as she would have thought. Jake looked good. Lean and fit, with curly dark hair and hazel eyes that changed color depending on what shirt he had on. Today they were green, reflecting the sweater he wore.
“How’s your mom doing?” she asked.
One shoulder rose and lowered. “She has good days and bad days. This is her first Christmas without him, so it’s going to be hard on her.”
“And on you,” Reggie added. “You and your dad were always tight.”
“Mostly.” His mouth straightened. “I can’t believe he’s not here anymore. It was so sudden.”
Reggie nodded, not sure what to say. Jake’s father had gone to his office one morning, and after sitting down at his desk, he’d suffered a fatal heart attack. The sudden passing had rocked the town. Reggie remembered her mother calling, wanting Reggie to know what had happened. Reggie had sent a note to Jake’s mom and had made a donation to the suggested charity, but hadn’t gotten in touch with Jake. They’d split up five months earlier, and reaching out to him had felt strange.
“I wasn’t sure what to do when he died,” she admitted. “I was thinking about you . . .” Her voice trailed off.
He looked at her. “I get it. After what had happened, you wouldn’t be sure what to say. I know you wrote my mom, and she appreciated that.”
“I always liked her.”
“She liked you. She was disappointed when we broke up.”
“Is that what she thinks happened?” she asked before she could stop herself. “That we mutually decided to end things?”
His gaze was steady. “No. She knows it wasn’t like that. She knows I . . .” He seemed to search for the words.
“Proposed on a Friday, went to an engagement party with me on Saturday, then dumped me on Sunday?” she offered.
One corner of his mouth turned up. “That’s a very clear way of talking about it.”
“It’s what happened.”