"This is ridiculous," Jane said as she watched Prett tape off the shower stall of the first floor bedroom. "I'm better now. I can do more than sit and watch."

"You can hand me another roll of tape," he replied. "This one's out."

Jane sighed and did as instructed, accepting the empty roll in exchange. She'd spent the weekend puttering around the men's apartment and had moved back to the hotel this morning. They had all returned to work. Except her. "I can paint," she insisted.

"One more day of rest, then you can paint."

"You do realize if you do all the work, there won't be any left for me. I won't earn enough to get me to Texas."

"We've barely done half the downstairs. Plenty more man-hours to go."

"But only half the man-hours for me if you keep helping," Jane said. "That's my point."

"You're helping me, not the other way around. And if I want to pay you to do nothing but sit and keep me company, I will." Prett pointed to the plastic-covered toilet.

Jane rolled her eyes, but sat again. "Isn't that a waste of Genevieve's money?"

"I'll pay you out of my own pocket, then. A hundred dollars to keep me entertained."

"Crazy."

"I could pay a dollar a word. You'd be a millionaire by noon."

Jane smirked at that offer.

"You pick the topic," Prett added.

Jane sat silently, turning the empty tape roll over in her hands.

"Don't tell me I've stumped you."

"Oh, I have plenty of topics I'd like to discuss," Jane said. "I'm just trying to pick ones that won't send you running out the door. You have a habit of doing that, you know."

"Do I? I suppose so. Okay. I promise not to run. No matter what you throw at me."

"So I can ask you questions? About your life and stuff?"

"You can ask. No guarantee I'll answer."

"That's what I figured."

Prett tore off a strip of tape and pressed it on the tiles. "Come on, fire away. Let's see what you hit."

"Okay." Jane thought a moment. "Were you in the military?"

"Nope."

"Had any bad carpentry accidents?"

"No."

"Knife fights?"

Prett furrowed his brows. "Is there a particular reason for this line of questioning?"

Jane slumped her shoulders. "The other night when you changed clothes, I saw your bare back. Nothing else—just your back."

Prett's eyes widened. He glanced at the door as if to flee.

"I was just wondering how you got them. The scars."

"You bring out the big guns first." He turned back to the shower tiles. "Bold move, Miss Jane. Next topic."

"You're not going to tell me how you got them?"

"Nope."

"Does it have anything to do with your miserable childhood?"

"Next topic."

"A wild animal attack?"

"Next topic."

Jane sighed. "I heard Danny speak."

"Wasn't expecting that one."

"That night he woke you up. I see why he doesn't speak in public. People could mistake him for being...you know." Jane didn't want to say it out loud.

Prett had no such reservations. "Drunk? Retarded? A retarded drunk?"

"Yeah. It's too bad."

"Might not want to let on you heard him. He's sensitive."

"Because of what he said to Cadence? What's that all about, anyway?"

"Lord if I know. He always had a habit of letting his mouth get him in trouble. And whatever filter he had got destroyed with the blast. I've given up on any improvement there."

Jane stuck her hand through the cardboard roll and twirled it around her wrist. "I heard him say I look like that girl you won't tell me about, but the furnace kicked on before I could hear her name."

"A reason to be grateful for freezing temperatures."

"So you still won't tell me about her?"

"Next topic."

"How long have you been divorced?"

"Next topic."

"When's the last time you saw your kids?"

"Next topic."

"When you said your brothers saved your life by kidnapping you, what did you mean?"

"You're really putting my promise to the test, aren't you? Next topic."

Jane threw up her hands. "Maybe I should just talk about me, then!"

Prett gave a nod. "That's the topic I was aiming for."

"Of course it is. Then you don't have to say anything."

"Now you're getting the idea."

Jane took the cardboard roll off her wrist and flung it at him.

"Hey!" he yelled as it bounced off his back.

"You said see what I could throw at you. Just be glad I wasn't holding a paint roller."

"Another reason to keep you disarmed today. And maybe every day."

"Then I definitely wouldn't earn any money."

"I said I'd pay for entertainment. So far you haven't disappointed."

"Does that mean I've earned a hundred dollars already? How many words have I spoken?"

"Ah. That's the rub. Too hard to keep track. Fortunately for me, I said I could pay you that way. Didn't say I would."

Jane snatched the empty tape roll from the floor. "Do I need to chuck this at you again?"

"At ease, soldier. The first offer still stands. Keep me company for a hundred dollars. No reason to resort to violence."

"You are so irritating. I don't see how—" Jane cut herself off.

"How what?"

"How you can be the same guy who spent two days at my bedside holding my hand."

"I did no such thing."

"You did so!"

"First of all, it wasn't your bed. It was mine. You just happened to be in it. And I sat there a cumulative total of six hours or so, not two days, as you assert. As for hand-holding, I will tactfully point out you spent some of those hours drugged up in a fevered delirium."

"Pointing out my delirium is a distraction, not a denial. You held my hand. And kissed me."

"Do you wish me to express deep regret for both?"

"I just want you to admit it!"

"I admit it."

"Thank you." Jane crossed her arms. "I used a toothbrush out of your cabinet. You can dock my pay."

"No need. I get them free from the dentist."

"I also snooped in your library."

"What a shocker."

"I found your collection of Jill Marquis romance books and took them to my room to read."

"Is this bathroom a confessional now? Because if it is, I need to drag my brothers in here."

"You have a lot of architecture and landscaping books."

"I thought we were going to talk about you."

"And books on small engine repair."

"Those are Vel's." Prett moved to the sink and began taping it.

Jane slipped the cardboard roll on her wrist again. "Do you deeply regret it?"

"Owning books?"

"Holding my hand. Kissing me."

"Oh. Those 'its.' Well, I certainly regret you being coherent enough to notice."

"You took advantage of me."

"I'm a cad. You can chuck that trash at me again if it makes you feel better."

"No. I can't be mad when you took care of me." Jane looked at the floor. "I know I was fighting you trying to give me medicine and cool me down." She sighed. "You were probably trying to keep me from hitting you and fell asleep with my hand in yours."

"This is fascinating." Prett stopped to look at her amid tearing off a section of tape. "The inner workings of the female mind. You're now taking the blame for my actions. Next you'll claim kissing your forehead was an alternative method of taking your temperature."

Jane smirked at him. "Wasn't it?"

"Of course it was." He turned and leaned against the sink, crossing his arms. The dangling section of tape stuck to his shirt. "Now I'll sit back and await your apology for thinking otherwise."

Jane laughed. "I think I expend less energy painting than I do talking to you."

Prett tilted his head. "That didn't sound like an apology."

"Fine. I apologize for being sick in your bed and forcing you to hold my hand and kiss me as part of my medical treatment. How's that?"

"Better than I could've hoped for." He untangled himself from the tape and resumed lining the sink, his mouth turned up in his half-smile. 

Jane chuckled and shook her head. I can't believe I'm sitting in a bathroom flirting with a long-haired, bearded hillbilly. 

"I'm hearing only silence," Prett chided. "You're still on the clock, you know."

"I was just wondering where I'd be if I hadn't taken this job."

"Probably in Texas."

Jane scoffed. "How would I have gotten there?"

"I would've given you money and sent you on your way."

Jane stared at him. Of course. I'm a fool. 

Cadence had told her this is what Prett did. But for some reason it had never dawned on her if she had refused to come home with him, he simply would have handed her money. She could be in Texas, finding a job already. 

"Then why didn't you do that?" she admonished.

He shrugged. "You accepted my job offer."

"But why offer me a job in the first place?"

"That's what you were asking for."

Jane shook her head. "Cady says that isn't how you do it. Except with her. And me. Why? Why'd you take me in? And her?"

Prett finished taping the sink. "Next topic." He turned and walked out the door.

"Hey! You said you wouldn't run away!"

"I'm not running away. I'm getting this." He returned with the ladder. "And the paint." 

Over his objections, she helped him carry in the remaining supplies.

As he climbed up the ladder, she asked, "How much money would you have given me?"

"How much would you have asked for?"

She sat back on the toilet and thought about it. "Not nearly enough."

"Why do you say that?"

She gave a mirthless laugh. "I was begging for gas money. Food money. I would've asked for twenty bucks and figured you could barely afford five. The way you looked."

"Appearances can be deceiving."

"Don't I know it." Jane tossed the tape roll from hand to hand.

"How much would you ask for now?"

"Cady said you usually give a couple grand."

"I do. That doesn't answer my question."

Jane stopped juggling the tape. "You'd give whatever I asked?"

"Probably."

She grinned. "Two hundred fifty thousand dollars."

"Why not a million?"

"A million then."

"Done."

Jane laughed and resumed juggling. "Cash or check?"

"Check. Cash would be too unwieldy."

Jane laughed again. She missed a catch of the tape and it rolled into the shower. "Seriously, though," she said as she retrieved it, "if I asked for a couple grand you'd still give it to me? So I could leave for Texas?"

"We were at a million. How'd we drop back to thousands?"

"Maybe Genevieve could afford a million, but that isn't what she gives, is it? It's a couple thousand."

"I see."

She stood near the ladder, looking up at him. "So you'd give it to me if I asked?"

"Yes."

She sighed. "Thank you. I don't feel so trapped now."

"You've felt trapped?"

"I haven't had many options. Now you've given me another. I appreciate that."

"You sound like you're not going to ask for the money."

"No. Yes. Well, maybe. Maybe I'll need it in the end. But for now I like working for it." She put the tape roll on her wrist again. "And maybe I'm a little scared to leave. I'm getting comfortable here."

"It's the beds. I bought quality mattresses."

Jane laughed. "Are you ever serious?"

"I'm always serious."

Jane shook her head, smiling. "And it's all because of that caramel pecan roll. Funny, to think about that. I'd be in Texas now if you hadn't bought it for me."

She was quiet a moment, playing with her cardboard bracelet. "My dad had a handyman business. Painting, roofing, installing cabinets. Tile work. Everything you're doing here, actually. He was an electrician and a plumber. A real jack of all trades. He even had some guys working for him. He thought I should learn the business."

Jane returned to the toilet seat with a chuckle. "I think he should've had a son. But he said I should learn so I could take care of myself. He tried to teach me about cars, too, so I wouldn't get cheated at the mechanic's."

"Good dad," Prett said.

"Yeah. I wasn't really interested, so don't remember half of what he told me. Anyway, in the summer when Mom was working—she was a nurse—I'd go with Dad on his jobs. I really liked that. Spending time with him." Jane gave a shake of her head. "Until I became a teenage brat and decided to work at McDonald's. They paid better. At least that's the excuse I gave him. The real reason was a boy I liked worked there."

"Hope the boy was worth it."

"He was a cad."

"Did you throw trash at him?"

"I should have. Or hot grease. Anyway, when I was still working with Dad, we'd get up early and go out for breakfast. My best friend's dad owned a café, and they had the best blueberry pancakes and caramel pecan rolls. Those were my favorite. One morning we had a job on the other side of the city, and on the way there we stopped at a gas station that sold rolls. I bought one, but it wasn't as good as Benell's Café's."

"What city?"

"What? Oh. Philly," Jane said. "I grew up outside Philadelphia, in Lansdowne. It was only later I moved to New Jersey."

Prett gave a nod, and Jane continued. "So then it became a thing with us. Dad would take me out for breakfast and I'd taste-test blueberry pancakes and pecan rolls, to see if anyone could match Benell's. No one could. I think we tried every place in the city and the surrounding boroughs. Even when I stopped helping him, Dad would bring me rolls. Sometimes from Bennell's, sometimes not."

Jane paused to take a deep breath. "Then he died. And that was the end of that." She raised her palm toward Prett. "Till you." She didn't say any more.

"How'd your parents die?" Prett asked after a minute of silence.

"Car accident. Next topic. I'm not ready to talk about that yet."

 She shifted her position on the toilet. "And then I went to live with my great-aunt, Evie. She lived in Camdon. I wasn't there long before I noticed she was getting forgetful. We had our electricity shut off once because she forgot to pay the bill. But she didn't want me helping her with money. She'd accuse me of stealing. She'd lock me out of the house. She'd call the police and tell them I was breaking in. And she wouldn't remember my parents were dead and that's why I was living with her. I'd have to tell her over and over."

Jane stared at the paint-splattered tarp on the floor. "She didn't stay sweet and cheerful like Dona." She shook her head. "It's so strange, because she'd never been mean. I loved visiting her. She always had cookies and cake and candy. She'd sneak it to me before meals, wink at me. And tell my mom it was her prerogative to spoil me now that my grandmas were dead. But when I needed her the most she wasn't like that anymore. And I was too scared to tell anyone. I didn't know what would happen to me without her. She was all I had left."

Jane's eyes filled with tears. "I managed to keep us together for three years before I had to move her to a nursing home. She was becoming a danger to herself. And violent towards me."

The pain of the memories pressed against Jane's chest, making it hard to breathe. She wiped her eyes and sniffled. "I don't blame you for not talking," she said, looking up at Prett. "I had a great childhood. Great parents. I didn't know how great I had it till I lost it all."

Prett lowered the roller, leaning his arm on top of the ladder. "Me, too," he said quietly. "Danny's mama..."

He didn't move for a long moment. Then he dropped the roller into the paint tray and climbed down. He sat on a rung and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his forehead in his hands. He sat like this for a long minute. 

Jane reached out, but before she could touch his arm, he sat up, stretching out his legs and wiping his cheeks and beard. His eyes were dry, but he didn't look at her.

"I stopped being entertaining, didn't I?" Jane asked.

Now he looked at her, his half-smile not quite reaching the sadness in his eyes. "Yes, you did, Miss Jane. You've been bringing us down. New topic?"

She smiled. "I think I'm better off painting."

He gave a nod and turned away. "You can cut in the bottom corners."

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please help me improve my writing by pointing out problems. And if you like what you read, please click the Vote button below. And comment! I love comments! 😊

Fun Fact: Since I already had an Ancestry.com account, I created a fictional family tree to keep track of all my characters: names, birth dates, relationships, significant events, etc. This helps me make sure all my timelines mesh. 😊

Below is Jane's tree. As you can see, her grandmothers were Ellen and Jane, just as she said in a previous chapter. Her great-aunt "Evie" was Evelyn. She also had a great-aunt Catherine, whom we learn out about in an upcoming chapter. 😁 

Note that I've connected Brandon to Jane although they weren't married. I have to attach significant others this way so I can see the relationships, past and present. Astute readers will notice there are two orange lines starting to lead off the right side of Jane's picture. Those represent two other men—one Jane dates and one she marries. But I've blanked them out because that would be plot spoilers. 😉

Be sure to vote and comment! ⤵