Episode 2: What A Fool Am I

Jessica

Jessica estimated the couple to be in their middle twenties. Attractive, lithe, and very much in love, judging from their passionate kisses and embraces. She sighed and turned to face the window. It wasn't that she begrudged them their happiness. She seldom begrudged anyone happiness. Life could be difficult, and she was a firm believer in taking joy wherever it could be found. She'd certainly had her share, and she generally took pleasure in other people's good fortune.

Frank often called her his cockeyed optimist. It was easy to be optimistic when he was around. Tall, absurdly handsome, charming, with a smile that never failed to lift her spirits, he was her ideal. People scoffed, but she'd known from the moment she laid eyes on Frank Fletcher that he was the man she would love for the rest of her life. They were meant for each other, and their life together had been rich and full despite the bitter disappointment of being unable to give her beloved husband the children they both wanted.

When he died, she expected to follow soon after. Perhaps she would have, had it not been for Grady, the boy who'd become a surrogate son to them both. Grady had his own grief, and yet he worked to keep Jessica rooted in this world. He came up every weekend, gave her chores and assignments to accomplish during the week, called frequently to check on her. Yes, she mused, if it hadn't been for Grady she might very well have turned her face to the wall and let the darkness swallow her.

Instead, she turned her agile mind to writing a mystery over that first long, dark winter without her beloved Frank, little dreaming how that innocuous hobby piece would change her life.

She was sometimes still shocked by this new life, at the difference between Jessica, widow and retired schoolteacher, and JB, celebrated author. But in truth, she thought, those differences were little more than cosmetic. She took more care with her appearance now, and she could afford to indulge in all the clothes she'd always wanted. She traveled in first class, stayed in the best hotels, dined in better restaurants, but in the essentials she was the same Jessica she'd always been, perhaps a bit more worldly. Certainly less naïve. She'd seen a greater swath of human nature, though she often remarked that there was plenty of human nature in Cabot Cove if only one looked. It wasn't Peyton Place, not exactly, but she'd always been a keen observer of people and their various foibles, and Frank had always enjoyed hearing her astute commentary on the inhabitants of his hometown. He took a great deal of pride in his wife's sharp mind.

A slight movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention and she turned involuntarily, only to witness yet another public display of affection; she swallowed her annoyance. It was only recently that she'd been almost bitter when she observed happy couples. She fancied she'd seen them everywhere lately, except in Cabot Cove of course. Even now, public displays were considered unseemly and were strongly discouraged. When Frank first brought her to Cabot Cove all those years ago, he'd pulled away from an innocent kiss she'd tried to give him as they were window shopping down Main Street. That had brought on a tremendous row. She sighed again as she remembered how they'd made up that evening.

Was it sour grapes that had her so disgruntled by these young couples? Was she turning into a bitter, ill-tempered old woman who resented the happiness of others? Come now, Jess, be specific. Of young lovers. Or older lovers, for that matter. That thought surprised her.

It had been four years since Frank died, but only in the recent past had she indulged in a few harmless flirtations. A few dances, a few embraces and kisses. It was pleasant, but nothing more than a passing fancy.

Once the press had gotten wind of her involvement in the Giles case, as she privately referred to it, the media attention had required professional management. It had been Susan, her new publisher's PR manager, who had pressed upon her the need to remain in the public eye by creating a stylish persona that combined her uncanny knack of solving real-life crimes with her ability to write the sort of locked room mysteries that her fans had come to adore. JB Fletcher, Susan felt, should be elegant, glamorous, but above all mysterious. Her public appearances should include as many fancy dress parties as possible, escorted by a variety of handsome gentlemen who looked marvelous in a tuxedo.

With each new book Jessica published, Susan arranged for her to be squired to certain social events by a cadre of these eligible bachelors of a certain age and style. Jessica couldn't deny they were a handsome group of men, and some were even quite charming, yet it was all so contrived. It was hard to ignore that, even though some of those gentlemen intrigued her so much that she gave it the old college try…another useful reason to keep an apartment in New York.

She recalled that Seth had been particularly put out when she rented an apartment in the city.

"Why do you need it, Jess? What's wrong with a hotel? How much time do you plan to spend down there?"

"Having an apartment in the city is much more convenient than booking a hotel every time I need to make a trip, Seth," she explained patiently. "'Often I'm called upon at the last minute; you know that. It's such a bother trying to get a reservation on such short notice. Plus," she said brightly, looking at him with a twinkle in her eye, "you'll have a place to stay when we want to catch a ball game or maybe even a play!"

Seth was flustered. "I can't stay with you, Jessica!" he said reflexively, then paused. "How big is this place exactly?"

"You wouldn't mind sleeping on the couch in exchange for an afternoon at the ballpark would you?"

Seth grumbled. "I suppose not. I still don't understand why you need it."

"My business manager, Harold, said it would be a useful tax write-off, and Vaughn thought it was a good idea." She looked at Seth. "Honestly, I don't understand why you're so upset about it."

"I'm not upset, woman! I just don't like change is all."

Jessica gazed thoughtfully out the window. Seth had become her dearest friend in Cabot Cove. But was that really true? Was he merely a Cabot Cove friend? An image of Seth drifted into her mind's eye. He was irascible, curmudgeonly, stubborn, but also steadfast, kind, and dependable. They were of an age, they both valued honesty and integrity, and she appreciated Seth's blunt candor, even when it was directed toward her. She could count on him. She glanced at her watch and smiled. 2 P.M. He would be preparing to pick up her mail and perform whatever tasks he'd designated for today. He didn't like all the travel her writing required, but he was a loyal friend. She pictured him coming up the walk to her house, bow tie and driving cap, efficiently sorting through her mail.

He wasn't a bit like Frank physically. For one thing, he was a few inches shorter, still taller than she, which continued to rank high on her list of admirable qualities in a man. Although she would admit this to no one, least of all Seth, she enjoyed walking arm-in-arm with him. His stature made her feel delicate, small even, and, to her surprise, she found she liked that feeling. Often she would loop her arm through his, but lately he'd been taking her arm and threading it through his as soon as they began walking. She noticed that he stood a little straighter when they walked like that.

She stared out the window at the passing scenery without really seeing it. She was thinking of Seth, comparing him to those other men she'd been casually seeing, and was surprised when she realized that it was actually the other way around. She'd been comparing those men to Seth, and they'd all come up short. Her heart briefly fluttered in her chest as she allowed herself to consider Seth in the one way she'd assiduously avoided all these years: as a man.

It had been a disagreeable day of meetings. She'd had to be firm with Vaughn. She would not commit to more than two books a year. That was challenging enough. She simply had to have time to rest between books. And she could hear Seth now. Though why she should consider him in her plans, she couldn't say. Wouldn't.

Immediately on the heels of her meeting with Vaughn was a meeting with Susan. She wanted to coordinate events with the release of Jessica's latest book. Ordinarily Jess enjoyed these meetings, the prospect of dinners and dancing with a tall, handsome fellow (Susan knew her type) was happily anticipated. But today, Jess hadn't the heart for it.

Those men who squired JB Fletcher to various social events across the city were polished and charming. The knew all the right things to say; they stuck to the script. But they were wining and dining JB, not Jessica. She could tell their eyes glinted with appreciation at her physical appeal, and occasionally some of them were genuinely curious about her, but she never felt an authentic spark from any of them. She wanted something meaningful. Susan came over wary when she saw the thought cross Jessica's face. Jessica told an obvious falsehood and excused herself from the meeting. She needed time to think. And her favorite place to think was Cabot Cove.

But in her haste to get back home before the end of the week, she'd scheduled meetings one after another, so she caught a taxi and arrived at her business manager's a few minutes early.

Jessica didn't particularly enjoy thinking about money. She hadn't considered this aspect of being a successful author. More money was always welcome, though she hadn't ever really appreciated the phrase too much of a good thing until now. She enjoyed the money, was grateful for it, but the disbursing of it had become something of a burden. The first thing she'd done was pay off the balance of the mortgage on Candlewood Lane. That had been a bittersweet moment.

On the advice of her new publisher, Vaughn, she'd hired a business manager/accountant to manage her portfolio. She hadn't the faintest idea what that meant, but she trusted her new publisher, and she developed an immediate bond with her new business manager. She'd handed him a list of nieces and nephews for whom she wanted modest trust funds established, but after several of her novels were optioned for films, it became advantageous to fund those accounts even more generously. She already had a sizable nest egg of her own, and the additional money enabled her to give generously to those causes and charities that were closest to her heart.

And still the money kept pouring in. It was a nice problem to have, but she viewed it as a problem all the same. She lived modestly in Cabot Cove, and even though she'd recently purchased a small, but charming apartment in the city, she still saw herself as a modest sort of person. Money made things different.

She noticed it in Cabot Cove. There was always talk, about anything, everything, even the mundane, but when Jessica published her third or fourth novel, was it?, the talk began to turn to money. Broad hints, some gentle jibes about what she could and couldn't afford. In appropriate comments, to Jessica's mind, regarding her clothes and her travel plans. Seth was her only friend in Cabot Cove who didn't comment on her financial status. He scrupulously avoided any talk of money, and, although he occasionally paid for her meals at the diner or when he invited her to try a new restaurant, they usually went dutch. She appreciated his circumspect attitude regarding finances, even as she privately deplored the extremes of his frugal nature.

She immediately chided herself for that ungenerous thought. She'd heard through the extremely effective Cabot Cove grapevine that his wife's illness had left him in tremendous debt. He'd managed to pay it all off, but at the cost of being almost penniless at the stage of life where he might well have expected to be comfortable at the very least. She'd also observed that he quietly canceled medical bills for certain families or simply failed to charge them at all. She admired that about him.

Further, Seth had never warned her against getting the big head, as so many others had done, nor did he lecture her about the evils of the big city. He wasn't pleased when she began dividing her time between Cabot Cove and New York, but he kept his own counsel on the matter. And that intrigued her.

Finally, finally, she closed the door to her small apartment and turned the lock, gratefully toeing off her shoes and padding through the foyer to her bedroom. It had been a warm day, and she felt as though she were covered in a thin coating of grime from the city. Perhaps a bath, then a light supper and bed. Yes, she thought. Just what the doctor ordered. She smiled. Perhaps she would phone Seth later this evening. Just to check in.

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! The next installment will post on Sunday!