CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY FIVE

Jamie's being secretive and no one seem to be aware of what she is doing!

Jer mentioned after a fall out with him, she only spoke to Whiz, who also claim to have sent someone to pick up some fabrics and sewing materials for her and that's, all he knows.

I have no idea where she is even spending her time making the blanket she wants for the baby. I should give her the privacy but I want her in front of my eyes at all times.

I was concerned when she called Cam and then cancelled him when he didn't elaborate on what his job entailed at the moment, but I'm not sure sharing the inhumane part of what we sometimes do, is beneficial to her.

I watch Jamie roll into the kitchen, coming from the direction of the bedroom, having no doubt freshen up, her smile emphasising the dimples on her now pale cheeks, but her eyes were alight with excitement, from whatever she is doing.

She's not even bothered about what transpired at our meeting with the Lawrences, because she never called for a follow up and hasn't asked about it, yet!

"Sorry I'm late," she said cheerfully, taking her time to get off the chair, before sitting beside me at the table, staring at me with a goofy grin on her face.

Laughing, Mrs. Stan came with a plate filled with steamed vegetables, beans and salad.

"Oh it's never too late for a meal in this household" Mrs. Stan chuckles.

"Is that all you're having?" I frowned at the plate she pulls eagerly in front of her.

Grinning at me, "what's wrong with my food?" She asks already starting to dig into the vegetable and beans.

Shrugging, I continued with my lunch I decided to have early just to make sure she's okay and try finding out what she is up to.

"There's not meat on the plate," I mumbled, stuffing my mouth with vegetables.

Ignoring me, Jamie continued eating in silence, "you were asleep when I returned last night." I commented watching her from the corner of my eye.

Curling her lips downwards, "yeah, I was tired" she admitted, without lifting her eyes of the plate, even though she was eating slowly.

"So what are you doing with your spare time?" I continued questioning her casually, not missing Mrs. Stan's smirk from the kitchen counter.

Jamie stopped to look at me, "I'm making a quilt by hand, so it will be time consuming," she explains with a side smirk.

"Really?" I asked in surprise, having the feeling she's keeping to herself or withholding something from me.

"Yep, the hand stitches takes a lot of time and patience." She responded, looking at Mrs. Stan. "Tell him," she invited Mrs. Stan to elaborate.

"All I can say, every stitched, especially when it's filled with love, will take up a lot of time." Mrs. Stan confirmed what Jamie said but with the broad grin on her face, it's as if she's won the jackpot!

"Well if it's so much work, why not use the machine in mom's workroom and maybe Mrs. Stan can help, when she is free," I suggested, while I continued to fish for information.

Both Jamie and Mrs. Stan turn to frown at me, "are you kidding?" Jamie ask in astonishment, "Haven't you ever seen a quilt?" She shakes her head with a disappointed looked in her eyes.

Mrs. Stan give me a stern look, while I wonder what I could have said wrong.

"It's a blanket for God's sake," I retorted wondering what the fuss was all about.

Slamming down the pot spoon in her hand, "for God's sake, didn't you Ralph teach you anything?" She walk out and leave Jamie and I in the kitchen and from Mrs. Stan's response, I know I just f**ked up some more.

"I'm sorry?" I asked Jamie, wishing I had some backup in the kitchen but I have no idea why the f**k, Justin and Jerome haven't joined us for lunch.

Jamie stubbornly kept her eyes on the plate in front of her, refusing to acknowledge me now.

Why do we constantly end up in the place? Always something concerning a war with words.

"Jamie!" I said quietly, "I'm sorry," I added, fighting the urge not to touch her, in case she pushes my hand away.

Finally lifting her eyes to face me, "what are you sorry for?" She asked softly, the excitement she came in with earlier all gone.

"For whatever I said to upset you and not understanding anything about a blanket," I responded just a quietly, feeling foolish.

Scuffing, Jamie turns away again.

"Why don't you want this baby?" She suddenly turns around and braces me with a question I hope she would never ask me.

Shaking my head, I scratch my short beard, while I try to answer a question I myself often wonder but never was never bold enough to admit.

"That's not it," I tell her, but her expression doesn't change.

She's still closed in to herself, but she's so very sad, something I contributed too.

With her eyes away from me, I wondered if this is the right place to have this conversation.

"Can we go by you favourite spot in front the lake?" I asked, already standing up beside her.

Jamie seemed to be pondering, her fingers entwined on the table and her eyes downcast.

"Why?" She breaks the uncomfortable silence. "Would the change of location, change the answer to my question or are you hoping the change of scenery will make me forget the question?" She asks, her voice and ices as cold as ice, when she finally looks at me.

Unwilling to get into an argument, "is that a no?" I asked instead, "Mrs. Stan is not finish in here yet and just now the other will be coming in for lunch." I explained, which is accurate on my count.

"Fine, once you're being honest."