Aaliyah's eyes shot open and she sat up straight. It wasn't the recurring nightmare that startled her, but a loud thud that came from outside. Slowly, she pushed the sheets off of her and moved toward the edge of the bed.
She heard the noise once again.
Aaliyah let out a shaky breath and quickly reached for the knife under her pillow before going to the living room area. She pressed her ear against the front door and could hear the noise once more. Someone—or something—was outside. She grabbed the doorknob, but hesitated to open it, wondering what awaited her on the other side.
After a few moments, Aaliyah took a deep breath and summoned enough courage to open the door. She pressed her eye to the crack at the edge and tried to peer out. When she couldn't see anything, she stuck her head out.
She let out a breath of relief.
Jason was unloading wood on the side of the house. She placed the knife down onto the console table beside the door and stepped outside onto the deck.
"What are you doing here?" Her voice was breathy and unsteady, betraying the riotous emotions pulsing through her.
He smiled broadly, revealing his straight white teeth. "Good morning to you too."
"How did you know where I live?"
Jason reached inside the back of his Dodge 3500 and grabbed another two by four, placing it with the others that were stacked neatly beside the deck.
"Sam told me," he said. "Thought I'd save you the trouble of having to carry all of this home."
This was too much for her to handle. She didn't need his help and had been clear about it, yet here he was, offering it so whole heartedly. There was something scary about it. He'd gone too far.
She took a step away from the door, folding her arms around her chest. "That's generous of you, but I didn't ask for your help," she said. "I specifically told you yesterday that I'd be stopping by first thing this morning."
Jason shrugged. "It's no problem, really. I saw you struggling on your way home yesterday and didn't think you should be carrying everything, at least not by yourself."
Aaliyah stared at Jason, then lowered her gaze to the ground. "Look," she said. "I know you're just trying to help, but I don't appreciate having men I don't know around my house."
Jason placed the final plank down and pulled off his work gloves. "Do you have trust issues or something? Sorry, but this is a small town, we all know each other here, I didn't mean anything by it."
"The big deal is that I didn't ask for your help. If I wanted it, I would've asked, Jason." She swallowed hard.
Jason slammed the tailgate shut, jaw clenching and he looked at the woman with slight confusion. "Wow, okay then" he said, shaking his head before turning away. "You know, it seems like you have serious trust issues, Aaliyah. Maybe you should think about getting some therapy."
Awkward silence filled the space between them and Jason sucked in a breath, turning to face Aaliyah with apologetic eyes. She glared at him. At least her trust issues were rooted in legitimate experiences. Beyond that, she'd always hated therapy. His insinuation that she needed it, made her feel small. Flawed.
Suddenly losing all of her energy and needing the interaction to be over, Aaliyah pressed her lips into a tight, discomforted smile as she spoke. "Please leave now."
She turned, walked into the house, and slammed the door behind her. She latched the chain and a couple of minutes later, she heard his truck leave.
She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, but nothing could stop the tears and the memories from coming. Have I been so beaten down that I'm going to cry every time someone shows me kindness now? She slid down to the floor and sobbed until everything didn't hurt so damn bad.
***
Aaliyah heard a knock on her door Thursday afternoon and looked through the window to find Samantha standing on her front porch wearing blue coveralls, a baseball cap, and a shit-eating grin. She didn't know what the hell to think.
She opened the door and saw she was holding a couple of paintbrushes in one hand and a huge paint can in the other. She handed her a brush. "Come on, now, let's see what we can do about this house of yours."
"I'm kind of tired today. If you'd given me notice—" She blew right by, leaving her talking to her doorstep.
Over her shoulder, Samantha said, "Quit your whining and get your ass in gear, girl."
She started pushing one end of her couch, and unless Aaliyah wanted her hardwood floor damaged, she didn't have much choice but to join in moving all the crap out of her living room. She'd been wanting to paint the beige walls, but had never gotten around to it. When she saw the gorgeous, creamy yellow Samantha had chosen, she was hooked.
They painted for a couple of hours, then took a break. They stepped onto the wraparound porch with a glass of red wine, and instead of taking them inside, Aaliyah led Samantha down to the beach. They passed through the dunes to where two whitewashed Adirondack chairs were perched on the sandy beach facing the soft waves of the ocean.
Angeline kicked off her shoes and sat in one of them. After a mostly sleepless night and everything that had gone down the other day, she could barely hold herself up.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the waves crash on the beach, then Samantha looked her straight in the eyes. "I know it's not my place to say anything. Whatever happened with you and Jason is between you two, but for what it's worth, I think the two of you could be really good friends."
"How's he doing?"
She wasn't sure why she asked, given that she was so mad at him the last time they had seen each other, but maybe knowing how he was would make her feel better about things.
Samantha gave her a sympathetic smile. "You should talk to him, Lia."
Aaliyah stiffened. "I don't know, Samantha."
"It would mean the world to me."
"I'll think about it," she murmured. She didn't want to disappoint her, and her words came back to her. "I think the two of you could be really good friends."
"That's all I'm asking for."
***
The lunch rush was dying down at Sandi's Cafe. Even the judge and the commissioners had abandoned their usual table and headed back to work. Aaliyah balanced three salads and carried them to the table of women by the front window. The scent of hair product overwhelmed the usual aroma of grilled steak and fried, well, everything.
"Aaliyah, have you been to Maribel's new salon?" Amanda Cohen asked as she scraped some of the olives to the side of her salad.
Since Aaliyah's hair was twisted into a claw clip on top of her head, Aaliyah would have to say Amanda knew she hadn't.
"No, is it nice?" she asked, just to make conversation. Every penny she had was either put back into the house she'd been slowly remodeling or tucked into her escape fund. No way was she spending it on herself in a salon.
"Oh, it's great. She's made it really luxurious. The chairs are just heaven, and she has these stones for your feet. And she hired a manicurist from San Antonio." Tammy waggled her fingers at Aaliyah. "Aren't these just perfect for wildflower season?"
Her nails were decorated like tiny wildflowers, each finger a different flower. They were, admittedly, adorable. Aaliyah curled her own uneven nails out of sight.
"Danny's coming home from a hitch tomorrow and I imagine my nails are all I'll be wearing." Tammy nudged Amanda, who laughed.
Tammy turned to Aaliyah. "You should totally go, but you need to make an appointment. She's pretty busy already. Everyone's just so anxious to see what she's done with the place."
After Aaliyah made an empty promise to check out the salon, she ensured her customers had all they needed before she escaped to the kitchen.
"Lucky you," Samantha said, looking through her lashes at the three women at Aaliyah's table.
"What? Why?"
"They may be gossips, but they're good tippers."
"Think they'll tip me enough to go get wildflower nails?" Aaliyah asked, forcing a light tone.
Samantha rolled her eyes. "Manicured nails are wasted on you, seriously. You'd just gnaw them off."
"That's not fair. I don't bite my nails."
"You just chew on them."
She slapped Samantha's arm playfully and laughed. "Oh, hush."
Aaliyah kept an eye on her remaining table while she did her side work. The door swung open, which was odd this late in the day.
She turned, and there he stood—Jason Moore, six feet of masculine glory. He looked fresh in a black button-down rolled up at the sleeves and dark blue jeans, his short blond hair perfectly spiked.
Her heart leaped, beginning a jittery thumping beat as he made his way toward them.
"Mommy!"
"Hey, slow down, kiddo, slow down," Jason said just as the young boy ran past him.
"Well isn't this a surprise," Samantha beamed, engulfing the small child into her arms. "I didn't expect to see my two favorite boys until my shift was over."
He drew the attention of the three women, who quieted, nodded in his direction, and whispered.
"That's Jason Moore. You know, of the Moore Vineyards," Amanda said, not as quietly as she probably hoped.
During one of her previous conversations with Samantha, Aaliyah learned that the Moore Vineyard's was one of the biggest vineyards in South Texas, in the same family for over three generations. The Moore's had grown grapes, but they had never made wine—they were under contract to one of the finest vintners in the valley, and because they owned fertile land with the highest-quality vines, they received an excellent price for their crop.
Aaliyah turned her gaze to Jason as she cleared the plates from in front of the women, in a subtle effort to invite them to leave.
"Damn, he looks good." Tammy said.
Amanda nudged her friend and said, "Remember, you're engaged to my brother!"
"I can still look. It's not like Danny doesn't look at Aaliyah's ass every time he comes here," she shot back.
Aaliyah almost dropped the dishes as all three women turned their attention from Jason to Aaliyah's ass.
Diana leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.
"I heard he and Deborah battled it out in divorce court last year. That's why he's working at White Lumber. His divorce settlement called for him to write her a check for a very generous sum at the time the divorce was finalized. Poor thing. She chewed him up and spit him out, leaving him to pick up the pieces."
The sincerity in her voice resonated with something inside Aaliyah, even though she knew that she didn't relate directly to his pain, there was some sympathy that had started to turn into guilt, and she turned away, carrying the dishes back to the kitchen.
As Samantha and Jason chatted briefly, Aaliyah shifted her focus to the brown-haired boy who now huddled by his mother's legs, surveying her with his big brown eyes. Aaliyah crouched down, comparing his cherubic features with the memory she had formed of him through photos she'd seen over the past few weeks.
"You must be Matthew. Is that right?"
He nodded shyly, and the toe of his shoe tapped restlessly on the floor.
"How old are you? Oh, wait. Let me guess." She pretended to be thinking. "You seem pretty big. Are you five?"
He smiled and nodded.
"I'm Aaliyah. I've heard so much about you. It's wonderful to finally meet you."
He stepped away from Samantha after a moment and stood in front of Aaliyah, his hands covered in flour and dangling at his sides. He cocked his head slightly. "You're pretty."
She smiled, charmed by the beautiful little boy. "Thank you."
Matthew grabbed her hand in his chubby one. "Come... look!"
Samantha quickly spoke. "Oh, let's give Aaliyah a chance to breathe. She's had a busy day."
Aaliyah laughed. "It's okay. What are we looking at?"
"We make Mama cookies," Matthew explained, his bright eyes seeming to expect that she knew what that meant.
"Oh?"
He tugged at her arm, and she followed him to an empty table, where a small white plate lay in the center.
"We started out wanting to make cookies, and then they had to be heart shaped, and then they had to be pink, so..." Jason threw his hands up as they surveyed Matthew's shirt, covered in sugar cookie debris.
"This is what we have." Matthew lifted to his tippy toes and grabbed a pink, slightly misshapen heart cookie and pressed it into Aaliyah's hand.
"Matthew calls them Mama cookies, since he knew we were making them special for her."
She took a bite and moaned in exaggerated delight. "So yummy. You made these?"
He nodded, his eyes bright with pride.
"Well, your mommy is gonna love 'em. I guarantee it." Aaliyah smiled.
The rest of the hour whittled away in a flurry of tasks, large and small, until her energy was thoroughly buttered.
Matthew monopolized the hour with his questions, laughter, and generally cute antics. Aaliyah didn't mind; his happiness filled up any awkward silences they might have otherwise had, and she was quickly enamored with him.
He was giggling and crawling under the tables, interjecting himself into the grownups' conversations frequently. Samantha's flash of irritation melted in seconds as she curled an arm around him. Collecting him into her arms, she threatened bear hugs and kisses.
She always used to want a big family, especially after growing up in a happier home with similarly infectious joy. But after things with Nathan has started to get rocky, she moved the idea to the back of her mind. Watching Sam and her little boy interact, she felt a warmth in her heart. Maybe one day she would get the opportunity.
After the diner cleared out, Samantha excused herself, taking Matthew with her to the restrooms to clean him up. She winked before leaving Aaliyah with Jason. Being alone with him made her instantly uncomfortable. The sudden privacy also meant an awkward, empty silence between them.
Nervously, she tucked a loose hair behind her ear as she searched for the right words. "Jason...I'm sorry."
He leaned against the counter casually, crossing his arms in front of him.
"I'm sorry for the other day. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that," she said quietly. "You were only trying to help, and I sort of threw it back in your face."
"Aaliyah."
"It's just—I'm not used to people being so accommodating, and—"
He raised a hand to stop her. "Please stop, Aaliyah. You don't owe anyone an apology, least of all me. I screwed up. I shouldn't have just showed up like that. I've kicked myself over and over for it."
"I was so mean to you."
"You had every right to be—I was an insensitive prick."
Samantha emerged from the bathroom with Matthew firmly on her hip. "I think it's time for a nap. Let's say goodbye to Uncle Jason."
"No!" Matthew cried, rubbed his eyes, and rested his head on Samantha's shoulder.
Samantha smiled. "Yes, it's time. Lia, grab your purse and I'll give you a ride home."
"No, I'll be... I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, go ahead. Don't worry about me," she insisted, shooing her off.
Jason stepped forward. "Let me take you home. Could be totally harmless, but you shouldn't go alone."
The protective tone in his voice took her by surprise. She wondered if she had damsel in distress tattooed on her forehead. Part of her knew she should've found that offensive—she was an independent woman now, after all. A survivor. But she understood why she might still look and act like someone who needs protecting. Aaliyah was still jumpy, and Nathan still haunted her. In truth, she wasn't wild about going on this venture by herself either.
"Um..." She looked to Samantha.
Samantha said yes with her eyes, which were lit up like Christmas.
"Please?" Jason said.
He gave her an innocent but determined look that was hard to resist. She couldn't fathom why he cared so much, but she couldn't deny that it pulled at her heartstrings a bit.
"You'll take me straight home?"
He smiled softly. "I'll take you wherever you want to go."
She relented, fairly confident she could survive the next ten minutes alone with him.
Samantha leaned in for a hug. When she let her go, Jason pulled her close and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.
"Goodnight."
They headed out of the café, and Jason ushered Aaliyah to his truck and opened the passenger door for her. Her fingers drummed the door armrest anxiously.
"I don't know how Sam keeps up with that boy every day," he said, breaking the silence.
"He's a handful, isn't he?" joked Aaliyah.
"Just like his mother." He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Maybe they'll keep each other out of trouble."
Jason raised an eyebrow, looking doubtful.
Silence descended again. Clearly, she had underestimated how long ten minutes with him could be.
"So what inspired you to move to Port Isabel?" Jason asked.
Aaliyah picked at the rip in her jeans and shrugged. "I kinda was just... looking for a change. Get away from the big city life, you know?"
"Hm."
"What about you? Are you from here?"
"No." He shook his head and smiled kindly at her. "I'm from Dallas. My family and I used to come here quite a bit when I was a kid. I worked with my grandpa a few months out of the summer at the vineyard, I loved it. When he started getting sick, it just seemed like the right place to stay at the time."
They pulled up to the house, and Jason circled the truck to let her out. Walking up the steps up to the entrance, she fumbled with her keys, conscious that Jason was behind her.
She turned briefly to face him, but couldn't meet his eyes. "Here we are," she murmured, hoping their goodbyes would be brief.
Instead, he ran his hand over the smooth wood of the railing and grinned. "I see you got around to staining the deck. Looks great."
"Yeah, thank you. Thanks to your expertise in deck stains and your sister's boundless energy and enthusiasm." They both laughed.
Aaliyah caught herself smiling, but it soon faded.
She pointed with her thumb to the door. "I should go inside. Thank you for the ride home."
"Anytime," he said and tipped his head. She offered him a weak smile and wave, then stepped inside, shutting the door and leaning against it. Aaliyah smiled a little.
As she reached the kitchen, she wondered if perhaps they could make this awkward friendship work after all.