A Past Refrain

by Brenda Barrett

  Jayce smiled. He didn't mind. He wanted her to like his friends. Now, more than ever, he wanted her to fit in because he was sure that she was the one for him. He watched as she laughed at something that Alice said. Even her pink lips were glistening, and then he saw her stiffen as her gaze strayed to the door. The cup she had in her hand shook perceptibly and she placed it on the stone table abruptly.

  What could have caused such a reaction from her? He swiftly followed her gaze and saw that his father and Hillman had made their way to the pool area. Hillman looked relaxed and was laughing as The General was pointing around, obviously in his element.

  He looked at Abigail again. Why would she look so uneasy to see his dad—or was it Hillman? Did she think that Hillman had really killed Haley? Now he felt sorry that he had brought up that speculation with her. Seeing Hillman had wiped the smile from her face and she was looking jittery.

  He got up from the lounge chair and headed for her. His friends had monopolized her long enough.

  "Hey," he bent down and whispered in her ear.

  "Jayce's come for his girl," Melody said, grinning. "By the way, I like her." She gave Jayce a thumbs-up and the other ladies grinned and did the same.

  Abby cleared her throat and got up. She was smiling as well, but it didn't reach her eyes.

  Jayce tucked her hand in his. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing's wrong," Abigail said. "I like them, all of them. Alice is cool, Ruby is funny, Farrah is sophisticated, Alka is gentle, and Melody is nurturing..."

  "I meant what's wrong with you?" Jayce stepped closer to a garden lamp and looked searchingly into her eyes.

  "Nothing's wrong," Abigail insisted again, looking back at him with what she hoped was an innocent look.

  "Remember what I said about you not lying so well?"

  "Oh come on," Abby said. "Nothing's wrong. It's your house warming party; go spend time with your other guests."

  Jayce frowned, ignoring her blatant attempt to get him to move away. "Was it the conversation that we had about Hillman that made you apprehensive when you saw him?"

  "Oh God help us," Abigail groaned. "Do you watch my every reaction?"

  "Yes," Jayce said unapologetically. "You communicate much better with your body than your mouth."

  "I do?" Abigail snorted. "That's not true."

  "Oh yes," Jayce said confidently. "I know you are attracted to me… really attracted, and you are fighting it. I don't know why you are fighting it but in case you don't know it yet, I have the hots for you too."

  Abigail stifled a sigh. "Jayce..."

  "I also know that Hillman spooked you. What I want to know is why?"

  "It was nothing," Abigail said.

  "Really?" Jayce looked at her long and hard. "So you won't mind if I introduce you two."

  "Why would you want to?" Abigail asked. "I am not impressed by celebrities. I can cope without the introduction."

  "Well it's out of your hands now; here he is with Dad," Jayce whispered. He was watching her keenly as they approached.

  Abigail inhaled tremulously. Her hands were trembling; she used one to steady the other. She had not thought that she would behave this way, seeing Oliver again after nearly five years. Four years seven months and three days since the divorce.

  She schooled her features into indifference. What was she reacting to, anyway? Oliver Hillman did not know her. She was Abigail Petri. She had a different face and a different name. She was a different girl; she had nothing to be afraid of.

  The General, who was walking beside Oliver, grinned at the two of them. "Here is the man of the hour," his father said proudly. "New house and a new innovative working technology."

  "Very impressive," Oliver said smoothly. He shook Jayce's hand. "And is this Mrs. Jayce?"

  "Not yet," Jayce said, grinning. "I am working on it."

  Hillman chuckled. "Nice to meet you, my dear." He held out his hand and Abigail wondered if she should shake it. She paused—not long enough for there to be any cause for alarm, but she saw the way that Jayce noticed her reluctance.

  She took a deep breath and even managed to smile at the familiar face of her previous tormentor.

  She shook his hand and hurriedly pulled her hands from his.

  "I didn't get your name," Oliver said, giving her one of his probing looks. She knew that look. He had subjected her to it the first day they met. That was his hunting for a woman look—though the man was pushing eighty.

  "Abigail," she replied huskily. She had to force herself to speak. Her voice had gone into hiding. She wished she hadn't come to the party. She was feeling a sudden onset of fear. It had belatedly dawned on her that this man could cause her serious problems if he found out who she was.

  He was looking all jovial and civilized now but he was a cold-blooded killer and had a hit out on her life years ago because she knew what he had done. It was all good and well to think about him and the past with the distance of time and somehow diminish him in her mind, but he was right in front of her and her fears were crowding out her reasoning.

  She dragged her eyes from Oliver Hillman's and swiveled to look at Jayce. She needed the reassurance of his presence right now.

  He took one look at her and excused them both. She was not for the first time thankful that Jayce always seemed to read her, even when she didn't want him to. He knew she needed to escape.

  She walked with him into the house, barely breathing when they reached the half dark living room; only a lamplight was on in the corner. Jayce sank into the settee with her held closely at his side. A panicked feeling of breathlessness had taken her over.

  Jayce hugged her to him and rubbed her back silently, absorbing her tremors as she pressed her body into his.

  Abby gradually came back to herself, the rush of sound in her ears subsided and she could once more hear the faint sounds of the music outside and the laughter and the chatter. She tried to straighten up but Jayce had her held so tightly against him she couldn't move.

  "Talk to me," he said quietly.

  "About what?" Abby said, regretting her breakdown even more now. She couldn't tell Jayce the truth.

  Jayce whistled silently. "Abigail Petri, you just had a panic attack. What was that about?"

  Abigail heaved a sigh. "Hillman reminds me of my ex-husband."

  "He does?" Jayce twisted around in the settee and turned on the lamp on his side. "You were married to an old guy too?"

  Abigail nodded abruptly. "Unfortunately."

  "What's his name?" Jayce asked.

  "I can't tell you," Abigail said, panic in her voice. "My ex-husband wants me dead, Jayce. I am sorry, okay. The less you know, the better."

  "Okay, okay." Jayce gripped her hands. He wanted to ask her a million and one questions but he could see that she was getting agitated again.

  "Look at me," he said softly.

  Liquid brown, deep-set eyes stared at her. They were earnest and filled with compassion.

  "I am here for you, always. Remember that."

  "Thanks."

  Jayce kissed her on her forehead.

  "I think I should go," Abigail said. "I am not in the party mood."

  "I'll drop you home," Jayce said quickly.

  "No, I will call a cab." Abigail got up and fumbled in her bag for her cell phone. "It's not right for you to leave your own party."

  Jayce grimaced. "You may be right. I hate that you have to leave though."

  "There you are," The General said. Oliver Hillman was in his wake. "You know you will have to personally explain some things to Oliver. I am not as fluent in this technology as I had thought, and I want him to see the monitoring system in your office."

  "Excuse him a moment, Abigail," The General said, pulling Jayce toward the home office and the bank of monitors he had in there.

  Abigail was left standing in the living room with Oliver Hillman.

  "So," Oliver Hillman said, rocking back on his heels. "How serious are you about Jayce?"

&n
bsp; "Excuse me." Abby looked at him. She dialed the number for the taxi and wished that she had done so before now. It would take the taxi at least ten minutes to get to Jayce's house.

  Until then she would be loitering around the place with nothing to do, maybe forced to small talk when she was not in the mood. She didn't want to answer any questions or be offered any sympathy; she just wanted to leave, especially now that she was alone with Oliver.

  "How serious are you about Jayce?" Oliver asked again and winked at her when she came off the phone.

  "He's my, er…friend," Abigail finished in a rush.

  "Jayce and I seem to have the same taste in women," Hillman said, walking closer to her. "I learned recently that he was my ex-wife's childhood friend. Isn't that something?"

  "Er...what?" Abigail asked faintly. Oliver Hillman was looking at her knowingly, as if he recognized her. How could this be? Her heart started thumping in earnest.

  She looked nothing like Haley. She needed to remember that. She was Abigail, born on February 1, the day when she chose her new face, all because this man had ordered someone to kill her.

  Oliver stood directly in front of her. "You remind me of someone."

  Abigail laughed uncomfortably. "I do?"

  "Yes," Oliver said, "you are a beautiful girl, my type of woman—want to ditch Jayce and move on with me? I have more money than I know what to do with and I have one foot in the grave. It would be nice if I could spend the last of my days with a young girl to keep me warm."

  He coughed after that incredulous speech, and Abigail stared at him in horror. He was still an old Casanova and unrepentant with it, but he would not be coming on to her if he knew who she was, and that meant she had no cause for concern where he was concerned.

  She relaxed slightly and almost smiled when he looked at her with watery eyes. "No thank you, Mr. Hillman. I quite like Jayce; he's more important to me than money."

  *****

  "Atta girl," The General said, smiling over the monitors. They had been watching the exchange after Jayce had turned on the monitors in the office and highlighted the living room.

  "The sound on this is unbelievable," The General said.

  Jayce breathed a sigh of relief after what Abigail said; for a brief moment he had been nervous as he watched her with Hillman.

  "I can't believe that Hillman was propositioning my girl in my living room, knowing that I have security around. The old guy is something else, huh?"

  "Maybe that's why he did it." The General shrugged. "But Abigail rebuffed him, which was a good thing because if she hadn't, I would have fired her tonight. Let's demonstrate this thing to him and get him out of here before he hits on any more of your friends."

  Chapter Sixteen

  "What are you doing this weekend?" Jayce asked Abigail casually. He had been biding his time all week after the party to ask her to go to church with him. The office was so busy and she had volunteered to assist his father's secretary with some of her work load, so he had hardly seen her and he wondered if it was deliberate. Whenever he felt as if he was getting closer to Abby she took a step back. It was tiring but he was seeing this through to the end.

  He could see her rifling in her mind for an excuse not to come to church with him. Cedar Hill church seemed to give Abby the creeps. For the life of him, he couldn't fathom why.

  "It's Alka's and Aaron's baby's blessing. I have your invite here." He patted his briefcase.

  "No. Sorry. Can't make it," Abigail said. "I have other plans."

  "What plans?" Jayce asked suspiciously. "It is a holiday weekend. You said you don't have any family alive. We usually have a whole host of things to do and we would love if you would join us."

  "Who is this ‘we’?" Abigail asked irritably. "I am not really into family stuff and friend stuff. This time of the year sucks."

  Jayce nodded. "I see. You prefer to stay in your apartment and stare at the four walls. That sounds fascinating."

  "I don't want to be included. I don't want to go to Cedar Hill church," Abigail said, getting up.

  "You told Hillman that you preferred me over money," Jayce said when she turned to leave. "Seriously, as far as I am concerned that's a proclamation of love. You are officially my girlfriend or significant other, which means that you are going to spend the holiday with me. It's only the right and proper thing to do."

  Abigail gasped. "You heard when I said that?"

  "Yup." Jayce grinned. "I have been waiting to spring it on you all week."

  Abigail shuddered. "I had to tell the old guy something; he was coming on to me. What I said didn't mean anything."

  "Ha," Jayce said. "You meant it. You said every word with conviction. You like me more than you can say, and I am flattered. Truly I am."

  "Dream on," Abigail said but her sharp retort lacked heat. She looked back at him, her hand on the door. "Your pastor, Greenwald, is he the one doing the blessing?"

  "Yup," Jayce said, "Greenwald is the senior pastor. Lately he seems as if he has mellowed somewhat," Jayce said contemplatively. "Maybe it's because Sis Greenwald is here. You see, even the gruffest of men need a soft touch now and again."

  Abigail stiffened. "How is she?"

  "Who?" Jayce asked, puzzled.

  Abigail bit her lip. Why would she be asking about Sister Greenwald? As far as Jayce was concerned, she shouldn't be curious.

  "Alka," she settled on. "How is she?"

  "Fine." Jayce grinned. "You saw her the other night. She is especially hopeful that you will come. There will be a dinner after, at Aaron's place. The family dinner is the week after so there will be friends and a few people from church."

  Abigail's curiosity got the best of her. Though she wanted to see her parents, she had avoided the urge to do so. She didn't even know where they lived, and though she had vowed to completely remove them from her life, she was finding out that she was human after all. Just a glimpse of them would be fine with her.

  "Okay. I will come."

  "Great," Jayce said. "Excellent."

  *****

  The moment Abigail stepped through the doors of the Cedar Hill church she felt a sense of nostalgia so potent she closed her eyes for a brief moment to steady herself.

  She had told Jayce that she would come by herself. She had all intentions of slipping into a pew at the back where she could observe the proceedings without being noticed but a young lady with a wide grin had greeted her at the door and said, "Hi, I am Mia. Uncle Jayce said I should watch out for you as soon as you got here and take you to him. He described you accurately."

  Abby groaned. Mia had chuckled as if she understood her reluctance to go to the front of the church where she could see Jayce and his friends sitting.

  Why did they have to sit at the front, all on one bench and coupled up? She considered turning back toward the door and walking out but Mia was standing firmly behind her, not budging. She seemed as if she took the command from her Uncle Jayce seriously.

  Abigail straightened her spine, tamped down her inclination to leave, and headed to the front.

  Mia whispered, "Have a great day today."

  She nodded and went to sit between Jayce and Alice. Both Alice and Jayce were smiling. She gave Alice a genuine smile and gritted her teeth at Jayce.

  "You had to send your niece to get me?"

  "Yup," Jayce whispered. "Because I knew you'd sit on the very last bench, hiding behind somebody's hat. I also told her that she should follow you if you attempted to go home.

  Abigail resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. She gave him a half-smile instead. She was going to do all of the above; why argue?

  She was in tune with the service until the platform party entered and she saw her father, Pastor Antonio Greenwald, in the flesh. It was the first time in fourteen years. She didn't realize that she was holding her breath until the congregation stood up and she was the only one left sitting.

  She stood up abruptly, her eyes locked on him. He looked the same. He had a few
more gray hairs, an extra bracket around his mouth, but his dark skin was smooth and otherwise wrinkle free, and he was still large. In the past he had a little bit of a paunch; it was now gone. He looked a tad slimmer. He looked better than he did when he was younger, or was it that she had imagined him as a monster for so long that she had skewed her picture of him in her mind?

  He looked good for a sixty-two year old. She waited for the hate and resentment that she had toward him to show itself, but it never came.

  She sat down when the rest of the congregation did, waiting for the bitterness to well up, but today she was curiously empty. She wasn't feeling particularly good or bad, just apathetic.

  Before the sermon began, she whispered to Jayce, "Where's Sister Greenwald?"

  "Children's church," Jayce said. "She loves kids."

  "Okay," she whispered back. That was when her heart gave her a weird jab. Hannah Greenwald loved kids, just not her own, just not her.

  She wondered where her sisters were now. The last time her curiosity had been piqued she had passed her older sister, Beatrice, in the supermarket. She had actually said hello and Beatrice had given her a kindly smile and said hello, with no recognition in her eyes. That was okay, Abigail had reassured herself then. The point of the surgery was that she wouldn't be recognizable to anyone who should know her.

  That meeting had actually spurred her to visit the church where Beatrice was a first lady. Her husband was a popular television evangelist. She had found out that Beatrice had three children and was a teacher. She and her husband were unhappily muddling along with their relationship. There was talk of him having an affair and a child outside of wedlock but that was still unsubstantiated talk.

  She half-listened while the song of meditation was going on, thinking about her other sister, Cher, who was no longer in the church. Cher was a broadcaster on a prominent local radio station and was very popular in the dancehall culture. She had married an entertainer in a very publicized wedding. It was her third marriage. So far, she had effectively turned her back on all things religious and nobody knew that her father was a minister of the gospel.