Free Loving Jessie by Dallas Schulze

suddenly shadowed with remembered grief. “But as much as they argued, he respected Mrs. M more than anyone else in the rose club. He really missed her when she moved to Sante Fe.”
    “And you really miss him,” Matt said softly.
    “Yes.” She sighed, then looked up with a quick smile, her eyes a little too bright. “He was one of my best friends.”
    “He was a great guy.” Forgetting all about keeping his distance, Matt reached out and took her hand in his. “I was in his class the last year he taught English lit. I planned on coasting my way through, doing no more than I absolutely had to to pull a passing grade, but he really made the books come alive. He was a hell of a teacher.”
    Jessie blinked back tears as her smile widened. “I don’t think you could say anything that would have pleased him more.”
    They sat quietly for a few moments, their hands still linked, remembering. It was Matt who broke the silence.
    “So tell me about this book he was writing.”
    She did. She told him about her grandfather’s plans to write a book that would offer advice for growing roses, with an emphasis on the special needs of people dealing with the Salinas Valley’s unique climate and soil conditions. But he wanted it to be more than just a how-to book. He wanted it to be a sort of memoir of sixty years spent working with and growing roses.
    “He had finished most of the writing before he…before he got so sick,” Jessie said. “And he left detailed notes for the rest of it, so I’m pretty sure I can finish it for him. There’s a publisher interested in it. It’s a small press out in San Francisco. This isn’t the kind of book that’s ever going to hit the bestseller list, but the editor I spoke with seemed to think they could do fairly well with it, particularly if they focus on the regional aspect of it. Getting the book published was a big dream of Grandad’s, and even though he’s not around to see it happen, I’d really like to finish it for him.”
    “Sounds great.” He was still holding her hand, and he tightened his fingers around hers, his smile encouraging. “I’ll buy the first copy, hot off the press.”
    “Actually, I was hoping you’d be willing to make amore substantial contribution,” Jessie said, and he remembered that she’d said she’d come out here to talk to him. He looked at her, brows raised in question.
    “I was hoping you’d be willing to do the photography for the book.” She rushed the words out, looking at him directly now, her eyes wide and anxious. “I know it’s a lot to ask. Grandad left some money to finish the project, but I doubt if I can pay you anywhere near what you usually get. And it’s not exciting work or…or important. I mean, it’s important to me, but it’s not exactly on a par with the kind of work you usually do. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to do it, because I could hire another photographer.”
    She was babbling, Matt thought. Jessie always babbled when she was nervous.
    “I wouldn’t expect you to do all of it, anyway, since we really need pictures taken over the course of a whole year. Showing the garden in all seasons, you know. But if you could do some of it, it would be great. And if you can’t, that’s okay. I hadn’t planned on asking you, but then you came back and you said—when we were at Ernie’s the other day—that you were between jobs right now, so I thought…”
    She let her voice trail off and looked at him, her big eyes full of a mixture of hope and uncertainty as she waited for his response.
    Matt withdrew his hand from hers and rubbed his damp palm lightly down the leg of his jeans. Between jobs? Was that what he’d told her? Probably. It was as good an explanation as any, better than admitting that he had no idea where his life was going anymore. It was pretty obvious that he wasn’t ready to pick up a camera again. Not when the thought of it was enough to give himsweaty palms. Ridiculous.