by Nancy Bush
And whatever happened with J.J., Sherry had a chance to connect with Mandy now. A chance she’d never really expected. She’d dreamed of it, when she allowed herself to dream, but she’d never believed her dreams might be realized. She wanted so badly for everything to work out between her and Mandy. In her most fanciful moments, she dreamed of them living together as mother and daughter, with J.J. at least accepting his daughter at some level. But even if that could never be — for Sherry was completely aware that the Craigs loved her daughter to distraction — she and Mandy had the chance for a real relationship.
As long as she handled this J.J. thing right.
“When can I see him?” Mandy had asked.
“I’m working on it. Soon, I think. Be patient.”
She couldn’t tell her J.J. didn’t know about her; that would immediately sever their delicate connection. Better to put Mandy off until she told J.J. about his daughter.
His daughter…
Sherry shivered. Fleetingly she considered how J.J. would react when he realized she and his mother had kept the secret all these years. And she would pay Patrice back every penny of that ten thousand dollars. She should have done it years ago except that she’d always felt it was better to let sleeping Dragon Ladies lie. But Patrice was awake and breathing fire now, so Sherry, who had a decent relationship with the banker who’d helped put the deal together for her to buy her share of Dee’s Deli, had already set the wheels in motion to get her a loan for the money. She couldn’t wait to drop a cashier’s check in Patrice’s lap — with interest — and wash her hands of the whole dirty deal. For her mother, she would do it again, but that didn’t make the idea of accepting Beckett money any more palatable.
“Hurry,” Mandy urged, sounding incredibly young.
“I’ll do my best,” Sherry had assured her softly, aching inside. She’d hung up her cell phone feeling oddly moved. She badly she wanted to have her child in her life. There was still time. Still a chance…
“You going to stand there daydreaming all day?” Gerald burst into her thoughts, yelling from the bowels of the kitchen.
Sherry came to with a start. She’d been standing at the kitchen swing-door, a million miles away. “Oh, stop your bellowing,” she told him.
“Come out tonight with me — after the kitchen’s closed.”
“Forget it, Gerald. I never date coworkers. It’s a rule.”
“It’s a bad rule. We’ll go have a drink somewhere.”
One of the waiters gave her the “look.” Sherry had learned during her short employment that Gerald was closing in on alcoholism, amiable drunk that he was, and he used his supposedly volatile temperament as an excuse to go out and throw back a few too many. Although she liked Gerald, she suspected he was not long for employment. He was just too reckless and undependable. Fortunately for him, J.J. Beckett appeared to be a fairly hands-off employer.
And this was Sherry’s last day, for tomorrow was the wedding. And afterward… Well, she might have to get out of Dodge fast after she and J.J. had it out.
Skin tingling with apprehension; she hurried to serve several plates of Gerald’s fabulous shrimp pasta to a young couple holding hands by the front window.
“Why can’t we go together?” Caroline asked, twisting her opal ring on her right ring finger. It was a gift Jake had given her not long after he graduated from college. Blinking, he suddenly couldn’t remember what the occasion had been. “What?” Caroline demanded, seeing him stare at her ring.
They were at her condominium, a stark glass-and-concrete building jabbed onto the cliffs above the beach, a monstrosity that even Jake had protested against at city council; he preferred the cozy, rambling beachfront dwellings that dotted the coasts of Washington and Oregon. Beckett Enterprises might own real estate, might even build and develop, but Jake had a strict code of aesthetics that other developers did not.
The developer who built these condos could have used a lesson in keeping with the beauty of the area. It bugged Jake that Caroline had chosen to live here, of all places; but then he hadn’t wanted her to reside in one of his own units, either — something that he’d never voiced but suspected she’d picked up on.
“Why are you staring at my ring?” she asked again, spots of color highlighting her cheeks. She was more upset than he’d ever seen her, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why.
“Was it your birthday? I can’t remember what it was.”
“What?” She blinked. “You mean, why you gave me the ring? It was our five year anniversary, Jake!”
Of course. They’d been dating for five years — if you didn’t count the time he was seeing Sherry senior year in high school. Caroline had decreed that their anniversary was coming up, and she’d hinted how special it was. He’d picked out the ring between exams on the Friday before he came home from college. As he recalled, she’d been slightly disappointed in the gift. Maybe she’d wanted an engagement ring.
He wondered if he should ask her what the actual date of that “anniversary” was again, looked at her unhappy face, decided not to.
“Why can’t we go to the wedding together?” she asked, returning to her theme. “I want to go with you.”
“I’ve got too many things to do first. I’ve been out of town for a week, and I don’t want to go early. Let me meet you there.”
“You’re the best man. You have to go early.”
“I’ll get there in time,” he assured her.
“What were you doing out of town?” she asked suddenly. “Why all of a sudden?”
“Looking at property along the Oregon coast. I told you,” he growled.
“For a week?”
Jake gazed at her in frustration. How could he explain that what had originally been a jaunt — more vacation than business — had become a good excuse to get away and think? And how could he tell her that he’d spent the week running on the beach, trying to exorcise Sherry from his thoughts, yet scared that upon his return to Oceantides he would find her mysteriously gone, never to return?
Hell, he couldn’t even explain it to himself!
“I wanted to go with you,” she revealed. “I don’t get to spend enough time with you as it is.”
Caroline worked as right-hand woman to the owner of a small, successful electronics firm that had grown too large for its modest roots in Oceantides and was now based in Seattle. So far, the owner hadn’t asked her to make the move; she spent a lot of her time at trade shows and conferences and wasn’t really expected in the office anyway. But the company was in the process of hiring a marketing agency and Caroline’s job description was sure to change. With that change would come a move to Seattle; the writing was on the wall.
But Caroline wanted to chuck it all and marry Jake.
“I needed some time alone.”
“Why?” Her eyes flared with alarm.
“I just did. And I still do,” he admitted, not wanting to hurt her but unable to lie.
“Oh, Jake.” She swallowed hard.
She couldn’t mask her unhappiness, but Jake was through with trying to make everyone happy and therefore making no one happy. “This isn’t working,” he said softly. “We both know it.”
“It’s her. Ever since she came back, you’ve been different.”
“It’s mostly us,” Jake disagreed. “You and I. There’s something missing.”
“Something you can get from her?” Caroline asked angrily.
“I’m talking about us — ”
“Don’t say it!” she interrupted. “Just go with me tomorrow and everything will be okay. The weather’s supposed to be terrible, for Pete’s sake! Rain — possible snow or ice. Cold as the devil. Don’t make me drive.”
Caroline was normally as independent as a tigress; this sudden insecurity had to be a ploy. And that bugged Jake, too.
“I thought you were catching a ride with Ryan and Kathy.”
“I want to go with you.”
“I’ll meet you there!
” Jake told her in exasperation. “Don’t make me get dressed up sooner than I have to. And I’m leaving right afterward. I hate receptions. I hate weddings.”
“You don’t have to yell.” She turned away, twisting the ring so hard her skin stretched white before turning red.
“I’m going to work out first,” he reminded her, as if that had anything to do with the real crux of their argument.
“Do you have to run every day? My God, you spend so much time racing along the beach, people will think you’re a fanatic.”
“I hardly ever run.” Jake gazed at her in amazement.
“You’re just never around! I’m tired of being your ‘sometime’ fiancée! Make me a priority, Jake, or forget it. I can’t stand this much longer. I’m so upset I just want to — spit!”
Jake’s jaw dropped. This was more passion than he’d ever seen. “Is that an ultimatum?”
She waved her arm, frowned, then shook her head. “I just want to walk through the door of the church with you.”
“Oh. Appearances.”
She flushed. “Damn you. You think it’s so easy for me. Well, I won’t be here forever. If you want me — yes, this is an ultimatum — you’d better make room for me. And you could start with a ring!”
She swept out ahead of him, toward his Jeep. He followed behind her, uneasy. She grabbed the door handle but it was stuck.
“I hate this thing!” she suddenly cried, slamming the palm of her hand on the hood. “Why can’t you get a decent car?”
“What’s wrong with the Jeep?”
“Can’t you just do one thing for me?” she cried. “Just one?”
“What the hell’s going on with you?”
“Marry me. I’m sick of waiting. It’s like your feet are stuck in concrete. You won’t do anything. You won’t change. And Sherry Sterling’s appearance has just made things worse. Now you’re talking like you and I have a problem.”
“We do.”
“No, it’s you. You, Jake. You’re waiting for something and it’s not coming! And I won’t wait forever. I just can’t!”
Two more hard tugs and she managed to yank open the door of the Jeep. She climbed inside, swishing her long black skirt around her legs. She wore a white silk blouse and a black wool overcoat. Jacketless himself, Jake levered himself behind the wheel, glanced down at his own jeans and navy T-shirt, and suddenly realized the incongruousness of their disparate lifestyles.
“I can’t be what you want, Caroline,” he said, gesturing to his clothes. “For better or worse, this is it.”
“I’ll take you as you are,” she responded instantly. “Just make it soon. Think about that next time you’re running on the beach. Tomorrow morning. Then when we meet at the wedding, I want a real commitment, not some phony half-baked engagement. Please,” she added, laying a hand on his.
Jake nodded. Sherry was going to talk to him tomorrow and Roxanne and Matt were getting married. It was a perfect day for endings and beginnings.
Saturday dawned in dark, dank misery and throughout the day sheeting rain, followed by hail popping against an already frozen ground, complemented ice-crusted pools of rainwater and other treacherous, frozen patches on the highway to make driving a hellish torture.
Sherry had brought one nice dress with her, a little black dress with silver beaded trim. A tad sober for a wedding, but she didn’t have anything else. She’d almost left it at home. What need was there for a dress in Oceantides? Frustrated that she couldn’t find the right bra to go under it, she’d decided to just go without. Now, smoothing the wrinkles from her dress she wondered what the hell she was doing.
The wedding was at five. Leaden skies were already closing to night fast as Sherry climbed into her rental and negotiated out of the lot and onto the two-lane road toward the church where the nuptials would be held.
She was late — mainly by choice, as she was really dreading this affair. Add to that a terrible weather report and she wasn’t certain she should even go.
Therapy, she reminded herself. These past two weeks in Oceantides had been good for her, in a way, for she’d found a part of herself that she’d locked away and hidden, and she’d learned that part wasn’t so bad, after all.
About a mile from the turnoff she spied a site that set her pulse rocketing. A black Jeep had skidded off the road and it was listing to one side.
“There are tons of black Jeeps,” she said aloud. “And J.J. would already be at the wedding since he’s the best man.”
But the words were still hanging in the air when she recognized J.J. himself standing beside the vehicle. In a black tuxedo and white pleated shirt, he looked incredibly handsome. She saw, then, that his axle was bent.
He glanced up, recognized her, his expression dark as a thundercloud.
“Need a lift?” she asked.
Without a word, he climbed into the passenger seat of her car. “I’m late,” he said.
“They’ll wait for you.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“You have to.” Sherry actually laughed.
“Marriage is a wasted institution. They don’t last. They’re never happy. Somebody always gets hurt.”
“Cynic,” she said, wondering what was eating him. “They never should have made you best man.”
“You got that right,” he growled.
“What happened to your car?”
“Daydreaming.” He yanked on his bow tie, thought better of it, and glowered at the rain splattering on the windshield. “Be careful, it’s a skating rink.”
As if hearing him, Sherry’s Focus suddenly jumped over the center line as if leaping out of her hands. Deftly and gently, she dragged the steering wheel back but she overcompensated and the little car swirled around in a wild circle, whipping them around until they were facing the way they’d come.
“Oh, my God!” she breathed.
“You okay?” J.J. asked, his hand touching her shoulder.
Sherry’s attention instantly changed to the feel of his hard fingers on her shoulder. She wore no coat. Her black jacket had seemed too sporty and she’d figured she could run from the car to the church and back again. But now she fervently wished she’d thrown it in the car.
“I’m kind of scared to put my foot to the accelerator again.”
“Want me to drive?”
She shot him an amused look. “Because of your skill with the Jeep?”
He grinned and his dimples did her in. She found herself unable to tear her gaze from his face. “I am not going to make this wedding,” he said, more relaxed now.
“Yes, you are.”
She put the car into reverse and slowly touched the gas. The rear end of the car suddenly ran for the ditch as if it were in a race. The next thing Sherry knew they were staring up the slope of the shoulder, her headlights tilted skyward toward an unforgiving sky, the engine humming and tires churning as her foot had slammed on the accelerator instead of the brake.
She released the gas and the car slid backward, idling as contentedly as a friendly, panting dog, waiting for its next command.
“You are not going to make this wedding,” she said on a sigh.
J.J. broke into laughter, and after a moment, Sherry followed suit. They laughed until tears starred Sherry’s vision, and when she swiped them away she turned to look at him, and the look on his face made her stomach flip.
“I promised Caroline I wouldn’t talk to you,” he said into the uncomfortable moment that followed.
“So you said.”
J.J. stared out the window into the gathering gloom. Running his hand through his hair, he drew a deep breath. “We’re going to have to walk,” was his ambiguous answer. “Here,” he added, extending a hand, helping her from the car. Sherry felt his cool fingers clasp her sweating palm, but that was the least of her worries. Wet, slapping weeds attacked her nylon stockings and she felt the fabric snag and run up the side of her leg as she worked her way to the edge of the road.
“We’
re destined to have car trouble together,” she said.
Noticing her flimsy dress, JJ pulled off his jacket and swung it around her shoulders. “Where’s your coat?”
“I could say I forgot it, but I just didn’t bring one.”
“Not good.”
“No. Not good.”
J.J.’s hand was still close by, hovering somewhere around the small of her back in case she lost her balance. Sherry was too concerned with keeping her footing to be unnerved by his closeness, and anyway, she was beginning to accept and relax around him a bit.
Face it. You like it, she told herself.
They slogged through the rain in the direction of the church, the conversation concerned with their predicament. By the time the front steps of the little clapboard building with its picturesque spire were in their sight, Sherry and J.J. were both drenched to the skin, their teeth chattering. She’d thought about broaching the subject of Mandy but she hadn’t wanted to yet. By the end of the wedding, she told herself . Maybe then she could just run again. Like always.
Inside the church, organ music boomed outward, mixing with the pattering rain. The sound was mournful and powerful in the fading light, resonating inside Sherry in a way that made her feel short of breath.
“My kingdom for a shot of brandy,” J.J. muttered, clasping her elbow and leading her up the steps. He grabbed the front-door handle, twisted, opened the door a crack and groaned.
“What?”
“Come around to the side.” Her hand still held tightly within his, J.J. urged her around the porch toward the side door. “They’re all in there, waiting. And they’re dry!”
Sherry grinned, but her mouth was too cold to do more than grimace. “I can’t feel anything.”
“Hurry.”
He ushered her through the side door, which led to a small hallway used as a means to enter the back rooms behind the altar. The door closed with a sigh behind them and it was dark, but dry. Music swelled, filling her head. Sherry gingerly reached forward into the suffocating darkness, her fingers finding the wall. “I should be out there with the crowd,” she murmured.
