Their Family Legacy. Lorraine Beatty
promising to contact him if she needed anything, she ended the call and slipped the phone in her shorts pocket, breathing a deep sigh of relief. All in all, the whole encounter had gone quickly and with no conflict at all. If these yearly visits were as easy as today, then she could stop worrying about it. Though she was puzzled by the contradiction in what she’d been told and what had occurred just now. Her Aunt Margaret had always complained to Annie’s mother about how difficult the yearly meetings were, how the man showed no remorse or concern for the pain he had caused her family.
The whole arrangement with Langford made her uncomfortable. It seemed excessive, harsh and not at all like the sweet, fun-loving aunt she remembered from childhood. Since meeting him face-to-face, she found it hard to believe that he was so cold and hard-hearted that he didn’t regret what happened. Prolonging his sentence served no purpose.
What kind of burden did the irrational sentence impose on him? Was he able to push it to the back of his mind for three hundred and sixty-four days or did it nag at him like a pebble in his shoe, never far from his thoughts? Annie shoved the encounter to the back of her mind. Accepting his money was a small price to pay for inheriting a home for her boys and financial security.
She folded the dollar bill in half and placed it in the desk drawer in the living room and turned her attention to her next task, getting her new home in order. The house had been closed up like a tomb for years and her aunt had buried herself inside with her possessions, which explained why the rooms had smelled musty when they’d first walked in. Even leaving the windows open for a few days hadn’t chased the smell away completely.
In the two weeks they’d been here, she only managed to clean out the bedrooms and the family room. Her next objective was to remove the excess furniture and then tackle the kitchen, which was overstuffed with enough food for a decade. She had big plans for this house. With a little paint, some updating and a lot of hard work it could be something special.
As she made her way to the stairs, her gaze drifted to the front door. For some reason she couldn’t get Jake Langford out of her mind. She had a feeling it would have been a lot easier to dismiss the meeting if he was more like the image in her mind, and not the attractive man he was.
She hated that she even noticed his good looks. There had been an aura of strength and control about him. His eyes were intelligent and thoughtful. If she’d met him under different circumstances she would have called him warm and friendly.
But the circumstances weren’t different. Besides, men had no place in her life. Ever again. Her only goal was to provide for her boys. Her new teaching position at Jefferson Elementary started soon and her first faculty meeting was this week.
Thankfully she’d be too preoccupied with work to think about Langford. She wouldn’t see him again for a year.
* * *
Jake finished tying his running shoes the next morning before grabbing his vibrating cell phone. His good friend Harley Evan’s name was displayed. “Hey. Make it quick. I’m going on a run.”
“Did you know that Coach Baker at Hillcrest High is retiring after this year?”
Not what he’d expected his friend to say. “No kidding. Is Dave Morrow taking over?”
“No. That’s why I’m calling. The athletic director is looking for someone younger to fill the spot. You need to put your application in before anyone else does.”
It was an opportunity he’d been hoping for. Moving back to Hastings had been a blessing, but it had dealt a blow to his long-term career goal of coaching at the college level. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll check it out. I have to admit I miss real coaching. The junior high kids at Jefferson are great, but I can’t say it’s as rewarding as coaching real athletes.”
“I hear you, buddy. Don’t put this off. I think you have a real shot at this.”
“I won’t.”
“Good. So. How did it go yesterday?”
Jake rubbed his forehead. He didn’t really want to go over that again, but Harley deserved an answer. He’d been through all of this with him. “Better than I expected.”
“That’s good. What’s she like? A younger version of her aunt?”
“No, she’s a complete opposite. She’s pretty and very nice.” There was slight pause before his friend responded.
“So no angry rants or accusations?”
“None. She took the dollar and I left.”
“Interesting. So you’re okay?”
“Of course.” A bit confused but relieved he hadn’t had to withstand a barrage of hateful speech.
“Then I’ll see you later. Don’t forget about that application.”
Harley’s news churned in Jake’s mind, gaining speed as he went through his warmup routine. He needed to get on top of this. He’d go see the athletic director soon and pick up the application in person, show them that he was serious and demonstrate his interest.
The August weather was intolerable today. High heat and high humidity, but a great day to run. Running always cleared his head and put everything into perspective. After his encounter with Mrs. Shepherd yesterday, he’d spent a restless night, and he needed to sort things out.
Jake finished his five miles around the neighborhood in record time. He slowed his pace as he turned onto Birch Street, heading home. He saw Mrs. Shepherd coming down her front walkway as he approached her house. Avoiding her was his best option. She wouldn’t be glad to see him, but there was no time to stop and turn around or cross over to the other side without calling attention to himself and appearing rude.
He slowed to a walk, waiting for her to look up. When she did, her blue eyes widened in surprise and then darkened with the speed of a pop-up summer storm.
“What are you doing here?”
He wondered if all her emotions were so easily displayed. “Running. I run every day.”
“Why here?” She set her jaw and planted her hands on her hips. “Are you stalking me?”
He didn’t dignify that with a response. He’d expected her to think the worst of him. Everyone always did. “I live here.” He pointed to his Victorian home across the street. “Right there.”
The look of horror on her face stung. He’d never considered how she might feel about having the man responsible for her cousin’s death so close. Her aunt had been a hermit. He’d lived in the neighborhood for months before she’d realized he was there. He’d only seen her once after that when he’d paid his penance. Not long after, she’d moved to a nursing home and passed a short time later.
“No. You can’t live here.” She took her hair in her hands and pulled it behind her ears. “Why would you come back to Hastings after what you did? Why would you move into a house so close to my aunt?”
He squared his shoulders. He should have anticipated this. He took a second to get control. “I moved back because I got a job here, and I live in that house because it’s the only home I’ve ever known.”
Her eyes widened again but this time from surprise. Like many people, she hadn’t expected him to have feelings or a sentimental streak. After all, he was only a foster kid. He didn’t count. A shaft of cold shot through his chest. Some things never changed. The stigma of being a foster child would stain him forever.
“Have a good day.” He nodded and then turned and jogged across the street.
If nothing else, the incident had dampened his curiosity about Mrs. Owens’s lovely niece. As far as she was concerned, he was a pariah. He’d secretly hoped Mrs. Shepherd would be more understanding than her aunt. Apparently not. So be it.
He had an application to fill out and maybe a campaign to launch. He’d show the powers that be that he was