by Cindi Myers
Angela shook her head. “Maybe Jack would do it,” she suggested. “He certainly looks the part.”
Tanya started at the mention of Jack. The man constantly intruded on her thoughts, even when he wasn’t around. “Why him?” she asked.
Angela shrugged. “Bryan and I saw him when we were out walking a few weeks ago, and I mentioned to him that he should get more involved with the theater group. He seemed open to the idea.”
“Does Jack act?” she asked.
“Didn’t he do a little bit in high school?” Austin asked.
She had a vague recollection of Jack taking a role or two in plays in which she’d appeared, but nothing major. But she knew he was sharp enough to memorize the lines quickly. “Has he performed in any other productions with the Mountain Theatre?” she asked.
“He played a member of the choir when we did Our Town,” Angela said. “That was a couple of years ago.”
Tanya studied the script, trying to think of anyone else to suggest. But she wasn’t familiar with very many local actors yet. And Jack did look the part. But was their tenuous friendship ready for twice-weekly rehearsals and the stress of an amateur theater production?
Was she ready to be around Jack that much, to let him see how far she’d come with her acting…and how far she’d fallen? Directing a community troupe was a world away from the stardom she’d once sought. Would that make a difference to Jack?
There was one way to find out.
“I’ll ask him,” she said. “Meanwhile, I want everyone else to come up with at least one name of a person we can ask if Jack says no.”
Chapter Six
The outdoors drew people to Crested Butte. In the winter, the majority of locals and visitors alike spent their time skiing, snowboarding and snowmobiling. In the summer, their attention turning to hiking, mountain biking and slow-pitch softball. The fields near the crossroads saw heavy use from both casual and competitive players on men’s, women’s and co-ed teams.
Last year, Andy Crenshaw had decided the company should sponsor a team and that Jack should play on it—another of his ploys to improve Jack’s social life. In this case, Jack had to thank his dad. He enjoyed the games and sharing a few beers with the guys afterward. And without his dad’s prodding, he never would have taken the time off to sign up for a team.
The weekday evening games generally drew a large crowd, but Jack was surprised to see Tanya on the sidelines the first Wednesday in August. Work and other obligations had kept him busy since the picnic, so he hadn’t seen her, though he’d thought about her often. As far as he knew, she’d never expressed an interest in softball before. Was it vain of him to think she might have come to see him?
He played a good game, and hit a home run in the bottom of the fifth inning—narrowly missing the windshield on a passing SUV. The Crenshaw Construction Cannibals—a name chosen one night after several rounds of beer—won, beating out the Last Steep Bombers. Third base player Trish Sanders singled in the bottom of the ninth to tie up the game, then left fielder Rachel Miller scored the winning run thanks to an error by the Bombers’ second baseman. The team celebrated as if they’d just won the play-offs. It was how they celebrated every win. As Zephyr, who had played right field before his accident because it gave him plenty of time to think up new songs—“nobody ever hits the ball out there”—had once observed, “With the team we’ve got, our chances aren’t good of making the play-offs, so we might as well live it up now.”
As soon as he was able, Jack broke away from his team members and headed for the bleachers, where he found Tanya and Annie sitting with Angela. “Hey,” he said, trying to play it cool, as if he’d just wandered by and spotted her. “I didn’t know you liked softball.”
“My brother plays for the Bombers,” she said. “I came to cheer him on.”
Jack masked his disappointment. He’d forgotten that Tanya’s brother, Ian, was the Bombers’ first baseman. “They’re a tough team to beat,” he said.
“As tough as they get in Crested Butte,” she said. “It’s not exactly cutthroat out there.”
Jack nodded. Games had been known to break up when a spectator’s or player’s dog decided to chase a ball into the outfield. Husbands and wives routinely played together on the rec teams, too, and no real skill was required to play, only a willingness to come out on a weeknight and have fun.
“Don’t tell Bryan that,” Angela said. “He’s always talking about how much he enjoys the competition.”
“Because it sounds better than saying how much he enjoys the beer,” Jack said.
“I’ll tell him you said that.” Angela rose and gathered her tote bag, sweater, hat and water bottle. “Come to the games anytime,” she said to Tanya. “It’s nice to talk with someone who’s interested in more than sacrifice bunts and double plays at these things.”
“I take it Angela’s not a big fan of the game?” Jack said when she was out of earshot.
“Not really. She comes because she likes to watch Bryan and the other guys run around in shorts.” The laughter in her eyes let him know she was teasing—at least he was pretty sure she was.
“Is that why you’re here?” he asked.
Her gaze dropped to his legs. “Mmm. It’s certainly an attraction.”
The words—and the unmistakable spark of interest in her eyes—definitely raised his temperature. “I’m happy to do my part for the fans,” he said.
She shifted her gaze to his face, her expression thoughtful. “I was hoping to see you here this evening.”
His heart sped up. “Oh? Why is that?”
“I wanted to ask you for a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” What could she possibly need from him?
“I’m hoping I can talk you into playing a small part in the play the Mountain Theatre is working on right now.”
Of course. She lived and breathed acting; her ambitions on the stage beat out personal relationships every time. She didn’t need him so much as she needed a guy to fill a role. “You don’t want me,” he said. “I can’t act.”
“I understand you played a part in the Mountain Theatre’s production of Our Town a few years ago.”
“I was in the chorus and didn’t have many lines.”
“But you did it.”
He shifted in his seat. “Only because I lost a bet.”
She couldn’t contain her glee. “You lost a bet?”
It wasn’t a night he remembered with pride. “Let’s just leave it at that.”
“Oh, no. I have to hear the story now.” She looked around them. A number of people lingered in the bleachers and along the fences, enjoying the evening air and a cold beverage or two. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll ask everyone here for their version.”
He grimaced. He could imagine the wild stories some of his “friends” would gleefully make up, even if they didn’t know the real one. “It was stupid, really. Austin bet me that I couldn’t make a raw egg stand on end.”
“So of course you had to prove to him you could.”
“Something like that.”
She was trying hard not to laugh. “But I take it you couldn’t since you lost the bet.”
“I would have won, but he cheated.”
“How did he cheat?”
“He shook the egg to break the yoke. That makes the egg bottom heavy and it will stand on end.”
“That doesn’t sound like cheating.”
“Yeah, well, he made me feel silly, which was the whole point of the trick in the first place.”
“And you ended up in Our Town.”
“Yes, and I swore I’d never repeat the experience.” He’d felt ridiculous up there onstage, everyone watching him.
“Why not? You acted in high school.”
“Only because I was trying to impress you.” It pained him to admit it now, but there it was. They’d only gone out a couple of times at that point. All her friends were in the theater and he wanted to be part of that crowd to get closer
to her. But she’d been the acknowledged star and he’d been an awkward amateur, limited to walk-on parts with few lines or, better yet, nonspeaking roles identified in the playbill as “Man #1” or “Policeman #2.”
Ironically, after he’d abandoned his attempts to be part of the theater crowd, their relationship had blossomed. They’d progressed from friendship to casual dating to an inseparable couple, in love as only teenagers can be, every emotion new and intense. He’d probably been a little bit in love with her for years. She’d taken longer to return his feelings, always more guarded and cautious when she wasn’t onstage. But once she’d made up her mind about him, she’d loved him with all the intensity and passion she gave to her dramatic roles. She’d given her all to him—right until she left him.
A softness flashed into her eyes, a vulnerability he would have missed if he’d blinked. Then the moment passed, and she was cool and flirtatious once more. “You’d impress me now if you’d take the part,” she said.
“What kind of part is it?” Not that he was considering taking it, but he was curious.
“It’s a comic role. Good-looking, well-meaning boyfriend of the heroine, the Red Lady, who’s something of a doofus.”
“Let me guess—he makes a fool of himself and the heroine wises up and ends up with the true hero of the play.”
She laughed. “Something like that.”
He shook his head. “I’m not your man. Sorry.”
“You can’t do it or you won’t do it?”
“Same difference. Trust me, you don’t want me messing up your play. I’m a lousy actor.”
“But a good softball player.” A young woman with dark hair joined them. She wore a tight softball jersey and very short shorts and a baseball cap placed just so on her gently tousled hair. Her eyes, when they looked at Jack, held a definite heat.
“Hey, Rachel.” Jack turned to Tanya. “Have you met Rachel Miller? She plays third base for the Cannibals. Rachel, this is Tanya Bledso.”
“Hi.” Rachel’s smile was less warm than it had been for Jack, but Tanya scarcely noticed. She was too busy studying Jack, trying to gauge his reaction to the newcomer in their midst.
“The beer’s going to run out if you don’t come get your share,” Rachel said.
“That’s okay,” Jack said. “Tell everybody I’ll meet up with them later. Maybe.”
Rachel hesitated as if trying to decide whether or not to accept his dismissal. “Okaay,” she said, drawing out the word. “See ya.” She squeezed Jack’s shoulder, then sashayed away, though he never turned around to even notice.
“What was that?” he asked.
“What was what?” Tanya directed her attention back to him.
“That look the two of you just exchanged. Sort of ‘don’t mess with me, sister.’”
More like “don’t mess with him,” Tanya thought. She hadn’t even realized what she’d been doing until Jack called her on it. She’d been acting as if she and Jack were still dating. She’d actually been jealous of Rachel. “I’m not sure what’s going on with you and me,” she admitted.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we used to date.”
“We were lovers. You can say it.”
The word—and the memories associated with it—made her stomach flutter. “All right, we were lovers,” she repeated. “But that was a long time ago. So what are we now? Friends? Enemies? Something else?”
“Not enemies. Friends. I thought we’d agreed to start fresh?” He shook his head. “But I guess there’s no sense denying the physical attraction between us.”
So he felt the electricity in the air whenever they were together, too. She took a deep breath. “Where is this going?”
“I guess that depends on where you want it to go.”
Big question. And one she didn’t know the answer to. She liked Jack, or at least she liked the Jack she remembered—the confident, fun-loving, sexy guy who had been her first love. This older version was tougher to figure out. There was no doubt she wanted him, but changes he’d made to the town she loved and the aura of power he hadn’t possessed before made her uncomfortable.
“Why don’t we start small?” he said. “Let’s go out together and see how it feels.”
“A date?”
“Yes. I’ve got two tickets to see a jazz trio at the community center Saturday night. Come with me.”
“I need to find out if my parents can watch Annie.”
“Let me know.”
He smiled and walked away. Strutted might have been a better word to describe his long strides and the confident set of his shoulders.
A date with Jack Crenshaw. The idea excited and terrified her. She didn’t want to give the evening too much importance, but on the other hand, at one time he had been the most important man in her life. Maybe what she needed from him now wasn’t so much another romance but closure on the relationship they’d once had. Figuring out where they’d gone wrong might help her figure out where she was headed in the future.
SATURDAY NIGHT, Tanya fussed with her makeup, sneaking glances at the clock on her dresser every few seconds.
“You’re not ready yet?” Her mother hurried into the room, followed by Annie. “Jack will be here any minute.”
“If he gets here and I’m not ready, he can wait,” she said, feigning calm. Meanwhile, her heart raced as if she’d been mainlining espresso.
“You look really pretty, Mom,” Annie said. She picked up a powder puff and tried it on her arm.
Ruth sat on the end of the bed and watched Tanya apply another coat of mascara. “This reminds me of your prom, all of us waiting for Jack to show up.”
“Mom! I’m twenty-eight years old.” She fit the cap on the mascara and studied the results of her efforts in the mirror. Not bad for someone inching toward thirty. “And this isn’t prom. It’s just a concert.”
Annie wandered into her mother’s closet, probably to try on shoes, one of her favorite activities. Tanya wondered if this was the early sign of an expensive shoe-collecting habit.
“It’s still an important night,” Ruth said. “You haven’t been out with Jack in over ten years.” She glanced toward the closet, then lowered her voice. “There was a time, you know, when I thought you two might marry.”
“Mom! Please!”
“I was just saying.” Ruth folded her hands primly on the foot rail of the bed. “I have no expectations now, I promise.”
“Neither do I.” She wasn’t going to allow herself to have any. Expectations had brought her only disappointment so far.
The doorbell rang and Misty barked, her toenails skittering on the hardwood floors as she raced down the hallway. Annie shot out of the closet, past her mother and grandmother, and headed toward the front door.
Tanya followed her mother at a more sedate pace. Through the entryway’s side window, she caught a glimpse of Jack on the doorstep, and her heart skipped a beat.
“Hello, Jack. It’s so good to see you again.” Ruth opened the door and ushered him inside.
“Jack! How have you been?” Tanya’s father, Mitch, emerged from the living room, newspaper in hand, reading glasses propped on top of his head. He shook Jack’s hand. “This feels just like old times.”
Jack had the grace not to say anything. Tanya gave him credit for not turning and running in the opposite direction. Her parents seemed to assume the two of them were going to pick up where they left off, as if the past ten years had never happened.
As if she and Jack weren’t completely different people now.
“I see in the paper that your company was awarded the contract for those new condos near Gold Hill,” Mitch said.
“Yes. It’s a new green-built project, the first of its kind here.”
Tanya frowned. Gold Hill had been mostly wooded, untouched terrain when she’d left town. Now houses sprouted everywhere. No matter how “green” the buildings were, did the area really need more condos?
“Did you bring Nugget
with you?” Annie blocked Jack’s passage and gazed up at him.
“No, I didn’t,” he said. “I left Nugget at home.”
“By herself?”
“She often stays by herself. I left her a favorite chew bone.”
“You should have brought her here. Grandma could babysit her, too.”
Tanya caught a glimpse of her mother’s face before Ruth masked her horrified expression. “Nugget will be fine at home, I promise,” Jack said.
“We have to go now.” Tanya stepped forward and rescued Jack from any further interrogation. “We don’t want to be late.”
He followed her down the walkway to his truck and opened the passenger door for her. After he’d climbed in beside her and started the engine, he turned to her. “Do you think they’re still watching?” he asked.
She glanced toward the house. The living-room curtains fluttered. “They are.”
He shook his head and steered the truck away from the curb. “My dad stopped by my job site this afternoon to remind me to knock off early enough to get home and change. I do get absorbed in my work sometimes, but I think I can be trusted to remember a date I made.”
Tanya relaxed a little, relieved to know she wasn’t the only one fighting parental expectations. “I think my parents are just relieved to see me date anyone at all,” she said. “Having it be a man they know and like makes them that much happier.”
“Same with my folks, I guess.” He glanced at her, an assessing look in his eyes. “It does feel funny to be going out with you again,” he said. “In some ways, it’s as if the past ten years didn’t happen.”
“I’m not the same person I was back then,” she said. She doubted if she’d recognize her eighteen-year-old self if they met on the street, so much about her had changed.
“I know. Neither of us is. But there’s something…familiar about this.”
She nodded. It was familiar. Comfortable. And yet odd, too. Unlike any other date she’d had in years. Partly because it was happening here, in Crested Butte, a place she’d never thought she’d return to. She’d rushed out of town with a head full of ambition, never taking into account all she’d left behind.
