Loved Bayou (Martin Family Book 1) Read online

  "I'll go put this in the truck," he said, looking somewhat uncertain about whether he would or wouldn't be coming back.

  I smiled sweetly at him. "Thank you," I said, in a way that implied I thought he might be leaving. "It really helped."

  "I'm glad."

  I pointed at the stool. "I'll talk to you about the stool later," I said, "but I like it, so just go ahead and leave it here for now."

  He rolled is eyes at me a little as he stretched his back by puffing out his chest. It was glorious, and I quickly glanced away. "Okay, I'll leave it here for now," he said sarcastically.

  I reached out and pinched his leg, since he was being playful. I heard my mom working away in there and knew she was about to serve him his food. "You better go if you're not coming back," I whispered.

  His eyes roamed all over my face as he hesitated for a second. "I'll come back," he said. He shifted his attention to my mom, and so did I to find that she was looking straight at us.

  "It's almost ready," she said.

  Jacob lifted the heating pad. "I'm gonna take this to the truck, and I have a business email to take care of, but I'll be back."

  "Well, it'll be waiting for you when you're done," my mom said.

  "I appreciate it." He glanced at me. "I'm coming back in here," he said like he almost couldn’t believe it for himself.

  I smiled. "Yep." I got to my feet, letting out a long relieved sigh that I didn't feel so terrible anymore. "If I can get through the last twenty-four hours, then you can get through an hour with my mom."

  "She's staying an hour?" he asked like that was a deal breaker, although I knew he was kidding.

  "Don't worry, I'll kick her out if she tries any funny business."

  "Should I be scared?" he asked, looking around nervously.

  I smiled, knowing he was still joking even though he was probably really nervous. I put my hand on his arm and regarded him with a sincere expression. "You'll like my mom," I said. "And she's gonna love you." I watched his chest rise and fall as he took a breath.

  "I'll be right back," he said.

  I glanced at my mom the second the door closed behind Jacob, and I saw her making an extremely confused expression. I let out a nervous giggle as I walked over to stand beside her. By the time I got to the kitchen, she was leaning against the counter, regarding me with an impassive stare. As if that wasn't body language enough, she crossed her arms.

  "What?" I asked.

  "What?" she said in disbelief. "I thought you were sick and alone over here, and I come in to find… well, to find you on the couch…" she hesitated and gestured to the front of the house in the direction of his truck. "… with Neil Fox's son."

  "His name's Jacob."

  "What is this Jacob doing in your living room, Alex?"

  "I told you," I said. "He's my friend. He came over to drop something off, saw I was sick, and wound up staying. I'm glad he did. He brought me a heating pad and rubbed my head till I fell asleep. It helped."

  "He rubbed your head?" she asked.

  "Yes, mom he rubbed my head, and it helped."

  She leveled me with a concerned, motherly stare. "Did he try to take advantage of you, Alex?"

  I scrunched up my face. "No, Mom. If anything, I'm the one forcing myself on him."

  "I should hope not, young lady."

  I sank my face into my hands and gave it a good, hard rub as if doing that would somehow make my mom understand where I was coming from. I sighed and stared straight at her.

  "I'm not saying anything's gonna happen between us, because right now we're just friends, but I like him, Mom. I like him a lot."

  She sighed, staring at me with a worried expression. "Please be careful, Alex."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Because we don't know him. All we know of him is all that drama with his family." She sighed again. "A family says a lot about who a person is."

  "No it doesn't," I said irritably. "We are who we choose to be. He's not defined by his parents or their choices. He's his own person. A good person."

  "How do you know that?" she asked. "Debbie went over there to bring him some stew, and he was not happy with her. She put a lot of effort into packing it up and bringing that over there, and he just treated her like he wished she wouldn't have bothered."

  "Because he just wanted to be left alone," I said. "Everyone in his life has hurt him or left him or both," I said, felling like I had no other choice but to take up for him. The urge to defend him was insane. "He's trying to protect himself," I continued. "He's angry with humans and confused about God, and honestly, after all he's been through, I don't blame him."

  My mom continued to wear that mask of worry, and she shook her head slowly as if I had somehow just proved her point. "I don't want you falling into bitterness like that, sweetheart."

  "I'm not falling into anything, Mom." Her hand was on the countertop, and I paused and laid my hand on top of it, regarding her with an expression that I hoped came across as sober and clearheaded. "You're taking what you know about Jacob, and basing your judgment on that," I said, looking directly at her. "But I see something different. I see him for what he is, which is not at all what everyone thinks. He's a good man, Mom. I honestly believe God put me in his life to help him out of whatever he's going through."

  "I don't want you getting hurt, Alex."

  "He's not trying to hurt me," I said. "He's just trying to keep me from hurting him."

  She sighed and shook her head like she didn't know quite what I was saying.

  "God put him in my life, Mom."

  I reiterated that point for two reasons: One, because it was the truth. I honestly believed I was divinely put in his path. And two, because it was the one thing that would make my mom back off about questioning it. I learned that along time ago. When I didn't want my mom to question my decision about something, I just told her God had put it on my heart. That always worked since my mom had a soft spot for God's will.

  "I don't want to take away from how the Lord wants to use you," she said, right on cue. "I certainly do believe He puts people in our lives for a reason. I just don't want to see you get your feelings hurt, honey."

  "He's the one who has his feelings hurt," I said. "I'm trying to help him."

  My mom reached out and rubbed my arm. "You've always been sensitive to people's feelings," she said proudly.

  "I also have a huge crush on him," I added, feeling guilty for letting her think it was all goodwill.

  "Really?" she asked with wide eyes.

  I nodded as I opened the pantry and stared into it. "I wish I had some plain crackers," I said changing the subject.

  "I brought some," she said. "There are still a few things I haven't unpacked."

  "I might try a popsicle first, actually," I said, going to the freezer and opening it absentmindedly. "Cam brought these by." I hesitated. "I can't even remember if it was last night or this morning."

  "It was today," she said.

  I unwrapped the popsicle and held it by the stick as I stuck the top section of it into my mouth. I was dehydrated and had a bad taste in my mouth, which made it even more wonderful. I gestured to the sandwich on the bar. My mom was a champion sandwich maker; she always cut it in half diagonally and had it looking like it came from a café.

  "Thanks for doing that," I said.

  Just as the words left my mouth, the door opened and Jacob came inside. There was nothing I could do to contain the smile that spread across my face. I was so happy he was in my living room, I felt like I wanted to giggle. He saw me grinning at him, and returned it with a cute half-smirk as he walked toward me.

  My mom pushed the plate toward him as he approached. "Here's this," she said. "Alex will probably just start with a popsicle."

  He glanced at me and I held my pop out to him as if to cheers him.

  "Feeling better?" he asked, now that I was up and around.

  "So much," I said with a sigh. "You have no idea."

  "I ap
preciate you coming by here this morning," my mom said as Jacob took a bite of his sandwich. "It makes a mama feel good to know someone was looking after her baby." She paused and reached out to run her hand over my hair. "I don't think I realized how bad it was when I came by last night."

  "I tried to fake it so you wouldn't worry, but it was terrible," I said. "I'm so glad I didn't get into an accident on my way home from Lafayette."

  "Honey, you should have called your father," my mom said, but I was too preoccupied to even listen to her because I instantly regretted my reference to a car accident. "I think it was the breakfast," I said, changing the subject. "I'm much better now, though."

  "Give that a few minutes to settle before you go trying to put a bunch of stuff on your stomach," Mom said, pointing at the popsicle.

  I nodded as I took another bite.

  "You said Jacob brought you a stool…" Mom said in an effort to make conversation.

  I smiled and waved at her to follow me, and we both went to check it out while Jacob finished his sandwich. "He does all kinds of woodwork," I said, knowing Jacob could hear. "Kitchen stuff and everything. He sells it online."

  "What sort of kitchen stuff?" my mom asked, peering at Jacob from where we were standing.

  He swallowed his food and wiped his mouth with a paper towel before saying, "Cutting boards, utensils, bowls… I do small furniture pieces, but nothing big."

  "He thought about making a guitar," I said, feeling proud of him."

  Jacob gave me a secret little look that said he felt shy about my bragging, and I just shrugged at him, saying it was too bad.

  "That's neat," Mom said. She ran her fingertips over the seat of the stool "If you made this, I'm sure you could make a guitar."

  "Oh, he made this like ten years ago," I said, still feeling proud.

  "Well, I'll have to look at your stuff," she said, sounding impressed.

  Jacob bowed slightly in a thankful gesture before taking the last bite of his sandwich. He sat back in his chair, regarding us from across the room. "I appreciate the lunch," he said. "I should probably get back, though. I have some work to do."

  "Actually, I'm leaving," my mom said, with a hand out to stop him. I watched as she crossed to the kitchen. "I just wanted to bring those groceries and make sure Alex was doing okay." She came to stand a few feet in front of Jacob, looking straight at him. "It was very nice meeting you, Jacob," she said as if she really meant it.

  "It was nice meeting you, too," he said, standing so he could shake her hand. "Thank you for the sandwich."

  She started to shake his hand, but quickly decided that wouldn't work. She laughed a little as she awkwardly took him into her arms, forcing him to hug her. I could tell she was squeezing him tightly because he glanced at me with wide eyes that made me smile. My mom let out a groan with the effort and his eyes widened even more, which made me laugh. She pulled back and stared at Jacob like she was thinking about something, and I cringed, wondering what she would do or say next.

  To my surprise (and horror), she reached up and put her hand on his face. I could do nothing but sit there, sucking on a popsicle while I watched it unfold.

  "God works in mysterious ways," she said sincerely.

  "Yes ma'am," he agreed graciously, even though I could see he was a little taken off guard.

  I thought she would call it a day at that point, but she just stood there staring at Jacob. "I see what she's talking about," she said, finally.

  "Thanks, Mom!" I called from the living room.

  Chapter 14

  My mom invited Jacob to the picnic before she left. She actually called it "the church picnic", which made me wince. Jacob was gracious enough, and thanked her for the invitation, but it was obvious that he wasn't trying to commit to anything.

  He stayed at my house all afternoon. I felt much better than I had all morning, but I was still feeling the affects of being sick. It's funny how being sick can make you drop your guard. I didn't even care that I looked terrible. I didn't feel nervous about entertaining Jacob or looking good for him like I might have done if I was feeling well.

  It was as real as real gets. Being sick is worse than having on no make up—it's having on no make up, plus having symptoms that make you look extra bad. The funny thing was I didn't even care. Being comfortable around Jacob came easy to me, and I just treated him like the brother I never had. Okay, so maybe I was flirting a little, but things felt very friendship-ey, which didn't bother me on a day when I was sick.

  Jacob stayed at my house till the sun went down that evening. We talked a lot, but we also sat there and watched a movie together. I told him before he left that I had a lot of work to catch up on the next day since it was Friday and I had been out of town and then out of commission all week. He acted like I shouldn't feel the need to explain that to him, which hurt a little for some reason.

  ***

  I had a lot to catch up on in New Orleans, so the following day went by quickly. The picnic was Saturday from 5 to 7, and earlier that day, I helped my mom make cookies and those little pinwheels you make with cream cheese and flour tortillas. Amelia was at home for once, and we had a good time goofing off in the kitchen with Mom. I wouldn't call Friday or Saturday bad days because they were fine, and I was definitely happy to be feeling better. I did, however, think about Jacob a lot and wonder when I would hear from him again. He took my phone number before he left Thursday night, but as of Saturday afternoon, I still hadn't heard from him.

  That all changed at 5:13PM when I got a text from a number I didn't recognize.

  Unknown Number: "Hello, is this Alex?"

  My heart started racing the instant I read it. I knew it was Jacob. It would be too random for someone else to text me asking that question. I typed a response.

  Me: "Yes." I also included a blushing smiley face emoji.

  Unknown Caller: "This is Jacob."

  Me: "I figured." Blue heart emoji.

  Jacob: "Come over."

  I smiled and looked around the picnic, wondering if anyone could see what I was reading.

  Me: "Now? It just started."

  Jacob: "What just started?"

  Me: "The picnic."

  Jacob: "Thought that would be over by now. Pictured it happening for lunch."

  Me: "5-7. I have to run the cakewalk later, or I would leave."

  Jacob: "Don't leave. Just thought it was over and wanted to see if you wanted to stop by."

  Me: "I want to. Can I come by at 7?"

  Jacob: "Yep."

  Me: "Unless you want to come here now."

  Jacob: "Ha-ha."

  Me: "See you at 7."

  Jacob: "Sounds good."

  I chose two more emojis, a smiley face and a kissy face, and I pressed send before I could think better of it. I put my phone into my purse, grinning from ear to ear at the thought of seeing him again.

  I was so happy that I felt like I wanted to walk around hugging everybody. I was the friendliest girl at the picnic—Ms. Popular, thanks to Jacob for inviting me over. My mom asked what had gotten into me, and I told her the truth. She made a plate for him, which only added to my happiness. I ran that cakewalk like nobody's business, feeling like I absolutely couldn't wait for seven o'clock.

  Before I knew it, I was on my way to his house. I passed my own driveway before I got to his, and I went ahead and pulled into it so I could glance in the mirror. It was hot out, and I had been sweating at the picnic. It was Louisiana, and I was used to sweating, but I wanted to make sure there wasn't anything embarrassing going on, so I decided to stop and freshen up.

  It was almost 7:30 when I pulled into his driveway, and I smiled at the sight of the open gate as I drove through it. Jacob was walking on a path that ran along the side of his house. It was turning dusk and it was shady, so it took me a second to realize he was shirtless.

  "Oh dear Lord, oh dear Lord," I whispered when I caught sight of him. He didn't even have a shirt over his shoulder like he might put it on
later—he had no shirt at all. He had on a pair of light colored cargo shorts that rode low on his hips, and as he got closer, I could see the slightest edge of dark boxers peeking out from under the waistline—not that I was looking. I watched him from the driver's seat, feeling too stunned and nervous to move. He was broad at the shoulders, and I could see the ridges of muscles that ran down his stomach and sides.

  I watched him walking, thinking the temptation was too great. There was no way I could pull off the friendship thing with him walking around like that. I was already tongue-tied enough as it was. It would be impossible to concentrate with him in this current condition. He gestured with a wave of his hand for me to come toward him, so I smiled and opened the door, doing my best to seem like I wasn't completely ga-ga.

  He was close to me by the time I got out of the car. I could see he was filthy, which would explain the lack of clothing. He leaned to the side and gave his hair a shake, letting sawdust trickle to the ground. He wiped his face as he was straightening up. In one motion with the face wipe, he stepped forward into my space and put a quick kiss right on the top of my cheek near my temple. I smiled as I pulled back to look at him. He was completely covered in fine, powdery sawdust.

  "I've been sanding," he said, wiping his hair again. "I'm sorry. I meant to take a shower before you got here, but I go into a time warp when I'm working."

  "You even smell like wood," I said, dusting some sawdust off his cheek with my fingertips.

  "Is that bad?" he asked.

  I shook my head. "It's good. I like it. They should make wood cologne."

  "I'm pretty sure I smell bad next to you," he said, leaning forward as if to sniff me.

  I smiled. "I put on some lavender when I went by the house just now. I got sweaty at the picnic."

  "You're far from sweaty," he said, sizing me up.

  "Maybe compared to you, but I still had to dab a little essential oil just in case." I lifted my forearm to my nose so I could smell the lavender oil I had just put on.