Jessie Belle: The Women of Merryton - Book One Read Online Free Page A

wasn’t sure I was comfortable with it now,
I just didn’t think about it much anymore.
    I
got out of the Tahoe that I paid for all on my own and walked toward our house.
Our beautiful, white house with black shutters that Blake had helped construct.
It was the one thing we had done together. We spent months with an architect
going over designs until we got it just the way we wanted it. The two-story
home sat on two beautiful acres lined with aspen and pine trees. In addition
there was a shop where Blake could be found most of the time he was home. He
got his shop and I got my gourmet kitchen with all the bells and whistles. The
house was the only thing we owned together.
    Together ,
I thought as I walked in the side door that led to the mud room. We hadn’t done
much together as of late. I guess if I really thought about it, as a couple we
really hadn’t done much together our whole marriage. It was a depressing
thought, so I left it alone for the time being.
    I
headed straight for the kitchen and searched for food. I hadn’t been great
about keeping a stocked pantry. I owned a café, so if I wanted food I had more
than enough access to it. At home there wasn’t much need to cook—Blake made his
own breakfast and he always packed a lunch and was rarely home for dinner.
Besides, we differed on food preferences. Blake had been on a major health kick
for quite a while, and me … not so much. I tried to eat healthy, but I was a
pastry chef by trade.
    I
found some Froot Loops next to a box of whole grain something or other. It
didn’t look appetizing, whatever it was. I went with the Froot Loops, the
breakfast of champions. As I ate I decided I should probably go grocery
shopping if I was going to put real eating back on my list of things to change.
First up though, was a long, hot shower and maybe a nap. The lack of sleep from
the night before was catching up to me.
    I
showered and wrapped myself up in my comfy, white robe and curled up on my bed,
only to be disturbed by the house phone going off. We should get rid of that
thing, I decided. I wasn’t sure why we still had it; we rarely used it.
Then I remembered why. We thought when we had children it would be a good idea
to have a landline, just in case.
    On
that depressing note, “Hello.”
    “Spill
your guts,” were the first words out of Cheyenne’s mouth.
    “Good
morning to you, too.”
    “Yeah,
yeah, good morning. So tell me what’s up with you and Blake?”
    I
lay back on my bed and sighed. Surely she didn’t know about Madeline. This town
had an amazing grapevine, but surely not that good. I knew Blake would never
talk to anyone and my parents wouldn’t either. I feigned innocence. “What do
you mean?”
    “Don’t
play dumb with me. It’s all over town how Blake came into your office with
flowers, but left storming out in a fury and you followed, crying.”
    I
went out the back door. Who saw me? This town really was too
much.
    “I’ve
been trying to call you all night and this morning.”
    “Sorry,
I turned off my cell phone.”
    “But
you still haven’t told me what’s going on.”
    “Cheyenne,”
I sighed, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “That’s
getting old, my friend.”
    “I
know.”
    “Are
you all right?”
    “Honestly,
no.”
    “Are
you and Blake on the rocks?”
    I
thought about that and what I should say. “Maybe.”
    “Let’s
have a girl’s night. I’ll call Abby.”
    “Cheyenne,
I’m tired—”
    “At
least think about it,” she cut me off.
    “Okay.”
    “You
know we love you, right?”
    “I
know.”
    And
I did know. Abby and Cheyenne were the best friends a girl could ask for. I got
in more trouble with them than anyone. My mom called us ‘trouble buddies’
growing up. We hadn’t gotten in much trouble lately. Abby was settled and
married to Dr. Shane Parker with three kids: Connor, twelve; Avery, ten; and my
middle namesake, Isabelle, was four. I loved those kiddos. Cheyenne was
anything but settled.