Return to Me

by Farrah Rochon

  Without allowing himself time to think about the consequences of his actions, Jonathan walked over to the door, pulled on the brass handle, and entered the shop. He took an immediate left and walked over to Ivana, who remained standing at the window display where she’d been straightening a necklace on a headless, velvet mannequin.

  “Well, look who’s here!” The sound of Sylvia’s voice traveled down Jonathan’s spine like Freddy Krueger’s nails on a dusty chalkboard. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you.”

  He turned to the woman who would have been his mother-in-law had his life not taken that drastic, stomach-churning turn. At one time he was more than willing to tolerate Sylvia if it meant having Ivana for a wife. If he could find the tiniest sliver of a silver lining to what happened three years ago, it was that he and this woman were not related.

  “Hello, Sylvia. It’s been a while,” Jonathan greeted her with a light peck on the cheek, as was custom here in the south. “How have you been?”

  “Business is steady as always. And, as you see, my prodigal daughter has returned.”

  He caught the way Ivana’s shoulders stiffened.

  “Yes, I have,” Jonathan said. “I was hoping to steal her away for a bit, if you don’t mind. I’m sure it’s been a while since she’s been to Cafe du Monde for a cafe au lait.”

  Surprise nearly doubled the size of Ivana’s big, brown eyes.

  “That’s fine with me,” Sylvia said. She shielded her mouth with her hand and, in a staged whisper, said, “Keep her as long as you want. She’s not the best saleswoman.”

  Choosing not to acknowledge Sylvia’s petty dig at her own damn daughter, Jonathan turned his full attention to Ivana. “Would you like to join me for coffee?”

  She hesitated, her wide-eyed stare seeming to ask if he was sure. After a moment, she nodded and pointed toward the register. “Just let me grab my purse.”

  Jonathan studied her trim frame as she walked to the counter. She wore an ankle-length print dress paired with the tattered jean jacket she’d had for as long as he’d known her. Just seeing the garment brought back unwanted memories. He didn’t want to think about the good times they’d had. Those thoughts always led to a dull ache forming in the area of his heart.

  Ivana grabbed a small purse with an extra-long strap and what looked to be some kind of tablet or e-reader from behind the counter. When she turned to him, a small but relieved smile graced her features.

  “Okay, we can go.” She looked over at her mother. “Are you okay closing up by yourself?”

  “I’ve been closing this shop on my own for over thirty years,” was Sylvia’s reply. “I think I can handle it without your help.”

  Ivana briefly shut her eyes and pulled in a breath. “I’ll see you at home,” she called before exiting the door he held open for her.

  They’d only walked a few steps before she stopped, backed up against the outside of the building next to her mother’s and softly thumped the back of her head against it.

  “I want to scream but she would hear me and I don’t want to give her the satisfaction.” She glanced over at him, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you. I needed out of there.”

  “Why were you there in the first place?” Jonathan asked. “Your mother’s shop is the last place I ever thought I’d find you.”

  Her luminous eyes went wide with something that looked far too much like hope. “Were you looking for me?”

  “No.”

  Jonathan inwardly cringed at the sharpness of his tone. He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but he didn’t want her thinking he was walking around town looking for her either.

  The disappointment that briefly crossed her face made him feel like the worse kind of asshole. He didn’t want her getting the wrong idea about his feelings toward her, but he didn’t want to be cruel.

  “I was at a lunch meeting a couple of blocks over and was walking back to my office,” Jonathan explained. “Your mother’s shop just so happened to be on the way.” He shrugged. “I can’t remember the last time I took this route. It’s as if fate directed me here to…I don’t know…to rescue you. Don’t take this the wrong way, Ivana, but your mother is toxic.”

  “She is.” She nodded in agreement. “Thanks again for giving me an excuse to get out of there.”

  She started to walk away, but Jonathan stopped her.

  “Hey,” he called. “What about that coffee?”

  She turned, confusion blanketing her face. “You were serious? You actually want to have coffee with me?”

  It was such a simple question. So why did it feel as if the implications were tantamount to a life-changing decision that could haunt the shit out of him until the end of time?

  Or maybe it could just be coffee. Everything didn’t have to be so dramatic.

  “I invited you, didn’t I?” he said.

  She stared at him for several moments. Then, with a sad, resigned smile, said, “It’s okay, Jonathan. You don’t have to follow through.”

  She once again turned to leave.

  “Have coffee with me, Ivana.”

  The intensity of how much he now wanted that scared him, but the idea of her walking away scared him even more.

  “It’s just coffee,” Jonathan continued, saying it as a reminder to himself more than for her.

  He waited several moments while she made up her mind, and was downright terrified at the relief that crashed through him when she finally turned to face him. This was not what he should be feeling at the thought of spending the next half hour sharing coffee with the woman who basically ripped his heart out of his chest three years ago. Yet here he was, his bones damn near melting in relief as she came up alongside him.

  He would have to take some time to examine this reaction once he was alone again.

  Cafe du Monde was packed with tourists, so they ducked into a coffee shop one block over and Jonathan ordered two cafe au laits. He added a boatload of cream and two packets of sugar to Ivana’s without thinking about it. It wasn’t until she took her first sip, smiled that smile that never failed to knock him to his knees, and said, “Perfect,” that Jonathan realized he’d made her coffee just the way she liked it. How had he even remembered?

  How could you not?

  He used to bring her coffee in bed every morning. It had been the best way to start his day.

  Don’t think about that.

  “So, what are you doing working in Sylvia’s shop?” Jonathan asked.

  “Besides losing my mind?”

  “Besides that,” he said.

  She shrugged. “I needed something productive to do with myself. I was ordered to take it easy while on my hiatus from Operation: Heal. It isn’t a long break in the grand scheme of things, but I can’t spend all my time just hanging around.”

  The fact that she was only here for a couple of months after being away for three years ate at him. Knowing she’d allowed two weeks to pass without even bothering to let him know she was home pissed him off more than Jonathan thought possible. Two whole weeks he’d missed.

  But did those two weeks really matter? It wasn’t as if they would be together for the next six or eight or however long she remained in New Orleans.

  And that thought was the one that chafed him more than any other. For her to be so close physically, yet so damn far in every other way, was the hardest thing for him to face.

  “What made you leave Haiti after all this time?” Jonathan asked. Of all the questions he wanted to ask, this one seemed the least acerbic.

  “My body,” she said. “I ended up in the hospital with what my coworkers thought was a heart attack. It turned out to be anxiety and exhaustion.”

  Jonathan had a hard time swallowing. The mental image of her in a hospital bed somewhere in Haiti made him insane.

  “Are you sure that’s all it was?” he asked. “Have you been to a hospital since you got back to Louisiana?”

  “No, I haven’t. And, yes, I’m sure it was just exha
ustion. It’s been a few months since the hospital stay. I feel much better than I did in the fall, but when a group of relief workers from Guatemala offered to come to Haiti to relieve us, my supervisor advised me to take some time off.” She lifted her hands. “So, here I am.”

  “You need to take care of yourself, Ivana.”

  She looked at him, those big, vulnerable eyes wreaking havoc on his peace of mind.

  “I am,” she said in a quiet voice. “I will.”

  “Really?” Jonathan asked. He hitched his thumb over his shoulder, back in the direction of her mother’s shop. “Did I hear you say that you’ll see Sylvia at home? Does that mean you’re staying at her place?”

  She released a groan. “Yes. But it’s only temporary. I’ll be moving into my Granny Elise’s house as soon as the current tenant moves out, which is in less than a week and a half, thank God.”

  “Well, that’s something, but I’m not sure working at Sylvia’s Treasures is going to help you relax.”

  “I doubt I’ll last much longer at the shop,” Ivana said. “I’ve been in contact with a few of my voodoo sisters working with some of the charities in the city. Miranda’s group is renovating a playground in the Seventh Ward. I’m going to wait until they’re done with the manual labor before offering my services,” she said with a grin.

  “What about you?” she asked, stirring her coffee with the little plastic stirrer. “How have you been, Jonathan?”

  He refused to be affected by her gorgeous brown eyes or the gentle, solicitous lilt in her voice.

  “I’ve been fine,” he answered. “The law practice is going well. Bringing Harrison on as a partner was the smartest move I’ve ever made.”

  “And your other venture? Sienna told me about The Hard Court being listed as one of the top clubs in New Orleans.”

  His brows rose. “So you’ve been using your sister to keep tabs on me?”

  A scarlet hue darkened the crests of her cheeks. “Not in a stalkerish way,” she said. “I just…just wanted to know how you were doing.”

  Jonathan had to work hard to keep his frustration under wraps.

  “I guess it’s too bad I didn’t have someone who could spy for me, huh? There were times during the past three years when it would have been nice to know how you were doing too, Ivana. But when it came to finding any info on you at all, I was shit out of luck.”

  She looked at him with a chastised expression clouding her features. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Jonathan huffed out an irritated snort. What the hell was he supposed to do with her apology? How did that change the radio silence he’d been forced to endure while she was gone?

  “I know you don’t want to hear this. You probably don’t even care anymore, but I am sorry for hurting you,” she said, her voice so soft he had to strain to hear it. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that she hadn’t hurt him, but he couldn’t bring himself to voice that lie. They both knew it was untrue.

  “Whether you choose to believe me or not, it’s up to you. Whether you choose to forgive me or not…” She hunched her shoulders. “That’s also up to you.”

  It wasn’t that simple, dammit. The fact that she tried to make it seem that way only pissed him off further. He wouldn’t just accept her apology and be done with it. That would be letting her off the hook way too easily.

  “I should go,” she said.

  And there she was, running away again. He should make her stay, demand they finally have this long overdue conversation. But when she stood, Jonathan didn’t protest.

  “Thanks for the coffee,” she said. “And for rescuing me.”

  And, once again, he watched her walk away from him.

  Chapter Six

  Ivana sat behind the wheel of her mother’s pearl white Cadillac SRX, her hands wrapped tightly around the buttery smooth leather steering wheel. She usually thumbed her nose at such extravagance, but after three years of riding around in a Jeep with an exterior more rust than metal and seats patched with at least a roll of gray duct tape, Ivana had to admit she could get used to this. If it didn’t go against everything she stood for, she would get one for herself.

  Of course, she’d have to find the sixty thousand dollars to pay for it first. She still had a nice nest egg from her time in Corporate America, and the alimony her ex-husband had paid up until two years ago, but it wasn’t enough to support a lifestyle that included luxury vehicles. The city bus had been her mode of transportation back when she lived here before leaving for Haiti. It would have to do whenever Sylvia wasn’t in a sharing mood.

  As she continued to sit in the idling SUV, Ivana recognized her stalling for what it was. She’d put this off for several weeks already. If she was going to go through with this whole apology tour thing she had going on, it was time she finally made this stop.

  She shifted into Drive and guided the SUV another hundred yards, parking at the curb of the place she’d called home for years. The shotgun-style house she’d shared with her best friend, Lilo, looked as warm and inviting as ever. The exterior had been painted bright new colors since Ivana last saw it. The wooden, clapboard siding a pretty lilac, and the gingerbread trim a soft, sunflower yellow. The coral accents around the window frames and along the roofline added just the right touch of whimsy.

  Ivana sucked in a painful breath and got out of the car. Of all the apologies she still had to make, this would be a particularly hard one. Which was why she hadn’t been able to coax her coward behind into coming here until now. After the cold reception she’d received from Jonathan, Ivana wasn’t sure what to expect from Lilo. Like her fiancé, she’d also abandoned her best friend without giving much of an explanation. There was so much she had to make amends for.

  Halfway up the walkway, the screen door opened and Lilo walked out onto the front porch. Ivana’s steps stuttered.

  “Uhh…hi,” Ivana said.

  “Hello,” Lilo replied, folding her arms over her ample chest. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to show your face.”

  It felt as though she was trying to swallow a basketball. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long.”

  Lilo cocked her head to the side. “When you say so ‘long,’ do you mean the three weeks since you’ve been back, or the three years since you left?”

  Ivana hunched her shoulders. “Both?”

  “Well, you should be sorry,” her friend said. Then a broad smile broke out across her face. “Get your bony behind over here and give me a hug.”

  Relief washed through Ivana’s veins like a flooded river overfilling its banks. She closed the distance between them and stepped into her friend’s warm, waiting embrace.

  “Thank you…so much,” Ivana said, choking on the words.

  “For what?” Lilo, who was even taller than Ivana’s 5’9’’ frame, planted a kiss against her temple.

  “For not hating me.”

  Lilo pulled back slightly and looked at her with one brow quirked and a frown on her face. “Who says I don’t?” But then she ruined it when she burst out laughing. “Stop it with that foolishness. You know I could never hate you. Come inside. I have someone I want you to meet.”

  Ivana followed her into the house and a feeling of deep nostalgia immediately overwhelmed her. The exterior may have changed a bit, but inside the walls were still adorned with Lilo’s gorgeous photography. Rich, brilliant fabrics and quirky furniture made the house a mishmash of color and fun.

  They walked through the living room and into the den. Ivana stopped short at the sight of the little girl who looked to be about three years old sitting in front of the TV.

  “Ivana, I’d like you to meet Elsie, my daughter.”

  Ivana looked from the little girl to Lilo at least three times. “Your what? When did this happen? Wait! Were you pregnant when I left?”

  Lilo shook her head. “It’s only been four months since we found each other, but she has changed my life in ways I never imagined.”

  Lilo pic
ked the little girl up, and the child immediately wrapped her bony legs around her mother’s waist. She stared at Ivana with wide, curious eyes.

  “Elsie, this is Mommy’s friend, Ms. Ivana. Guess what? She used to sleep in your room.”

  Elsie tucked her head in the crook of Lilo’s neck and continued to stare.

  “Are you going to say hello?” Lilo asked.

  The faint “hello” was barely audible.

  “Hello,” Ivana said with a smile. “It is so nice to meet you.”

  Lilo set the child on a large, embroidered pillow on the floor. “Let’s let her get back to her television show. She only gets a half-hour of TV time a day, and it’s not fair to eat into it. I just made some lavender-honey iced tea. We can have it out on the porch.”

  Lilo poured their drinks, then they took them out to the painted Adirondack chairs just off to the side of the front door.

  “She’s precious,” Ivana said, tipping her head toward the house. “How old is she?”

  “Five.”

  “Five?” Ivana thought she was pushing it when she thought the little girl was three. “She’s so tiny.”

  “Malnourished as a baby. The doctors are astounded that she doesn’t display as many developmental issues as a child who grew up in her conditions usually does, but we still have a long way to go.” Lilo sipped her iced tea then set the glass on the small table between them. “I’ll tell you all you want to know about Elsie later. Now’s the time for you to fess up. I want to know why you left the way you did and why in the hell did you not get in touch with me? Not even a postcard, Ivana?”

  She’d anticipated these exact questions, yet she still didn’t know how to answer them. She would try. Her friend deserved answers.