by Street, K.
I remembered Jase’s parents, but it had been years since I last saw them. “How are your parents these days?”
“They’re well. They moved to Washington State a few years ago.”
I didn’t miss the shadow that fell over Jase’s face at the mention of Washington.
“My older sister, Jessica, and her husband live there. Mom and Dad wanted to be closer to spend time with their grandkids.”
“That makes sense. I’m sorry about your grandpa.”
“Me, too.” He was quiet for a minute before he spoke again, “I was living in Atlanta and would come to help him out on the weekends. When he passed, I moved here permanently to oversee the operations of the vineyard. It wasn’t until the last couple of years that we started producing our own wine. And it takes time to turn a profit because the equipment is expensive, and there’s a shit-ton of permits to deal with. The market is competitive, but the potential is there.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll pull it off. The tasting room sounds like it will be a great investment. Maybe you could offer tours.”
I listened to Jase tell me about his business plan. His excitement was almost contagious.
I was happy for him.
In no time at all, we were standing in the square.
“What are you in the mood for? Gustavo’s has the best pizza, or we can go to The Pickled Peach.” He pointed across the street to a café. “They have amazing sandwiches.”
I thought about the mound of work on my desk. Since I wasn’t in the mood for pizza and sandwiches seemed like it would be much faster, I said, “The Pickled Peach sounds great.”
The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the air as soon as we entered the café. We joined the short line. Above the counter where the cash registers sat was a giant suspended blackboard with items listed in colorful chalk.
“Any suggestions?” I asked Jase without taking my eyes off the menu.
“The Peppered Pig is really good.”
I read the description. Spice-rubbed roast pork, thinly sliced and piled high, paired with peach barbeque sauce. Served on a brioche bun.
While it sounded delicious, it would be messy, and I’d rather not go back to work covered in barbeque sauce.
I was still glancing at the menu when a cheery voice said, “Good afternoon, and welcome to The Pickled Peach. What can I get you?”
“I’ll have the Harvest Chicken Salad and an iced sweet tea.”
I dug in my purse for my wallet.
“My treat, Saylor.”
My gut twisted. This wasn’t a date.
“Thanks. That’s really sweet.” I tried to sound gracious. “I’ve got it though.”
I withdrew a twenty-dollar bill and passed it to the clerk.
When she gave me my change, I dropped a couple of dollars in the large mason jar they used for tips and went in search of a table.
A minute or so later, Jase came over and set his drink down at our table along with two metal number stands.
“They’ll bring the food out to us.”
“Oh. Thanks for grabbing the number.” I took a seat and placed my purse in the empty chair to my right while he sat across from me.
“How’s Knox?”
A smile found its way to my lips. “He’s good. Today is his first day of preschool, and it got off to a rough start, but they haven’t called me yet, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”
Jase took a drink of his tea. “He seems like a really great kid.” His eyes met mine across the table.
“He’s so much like his dad. Colin has this grin—” The slip of the tongue stopped me in my tracks. I shook my head and cleared my throat. “Had. Colin had this grin, and Knox, he makes the same expression.”
My eyes met Jase’s across the top of the small table.
He reached his hand across the table and laid it on top of mine.
There it was again. That jolt of awareness. I pulled my hand back as though I’d been burned, nearly knocking the number stands to the floor.
“Socks, I didn’t mean …” His voice trailed off. “Are you okay?”
I dropped my gaze and let an apology fall from my lips. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. Really.”
Every time he touched me, I felt the current of energy that buzzed between us. It left me feeling rattled.
The longing he stirred within me heated my skin. Like a hand hovering over an open flame, it was only a matter of time before the fire blistered my flesh.
Ten
Jase
Saylor was beautiful even if she was a mess. I hated how she felt the need to apologize.
I wanted to be there for her because nobody had really been there for me. I knew what it was like to have to pretend. I’m fine had been my default setting, too.
A shadow fell over the table, and I glanced up to see a food runner holding our meals, saving us from further awkwardness.
“Chicken salad?” she asked.
Saylor lifted her hand.
“Then, this must be yours.” She set my sandwich in front of me and then grabbed the metal stands that held our order numbers. “Do y’all need anything else?”
I looked at Saylor.
Saylor smiled warmly at the woman. “No, thank you. This looks great.”
“We’re good. Thanks.”
“All right. You folks enjoy.” She walked away, leaving us to our lunch.
Saylor dug into her chicken salad while I took a bite of my sandwich. We ate in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before I broke the quiet.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. You just seem like you could really use a friend right now.”
“Honestly, I don’t have many, and having someone who doesn’t look at me with pity or like they’re scared I’m going to completely lose my shit would be nice.”
“Maybe you should,” I told her before taking a bite of my lunch.
She poked at her food. “Should what?”
“Lose your shit. It has to be better than bottling it up, right?”
“You might be onto something.” The tiniest hint of a smile played on her lips. “I could use a friend. Especially one who recently inherited a vineyard,” she teased.
“I see. You just want to use me.” I chuckled.
“Pretty much.” Her face lit up then into a genuine smile, so bright and stunning that, had I not already been sitting down, it would have knocked me on my ass.
The uneasiness from earlier vanished, and we settled into easy conversation.
After we finished lunch, we started the short stroll back to the office.
I felt Saylor’s eyes on me as we walked.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to answer it,” I told her truthfully.
“I know you’ve never been married, but have you ever come close?”
I debated my response to her question because answering it would only lead to further interrogation. After some deliberation, I answered her directly, hoping I wouldn’t need to elaborate, “Once.”
“Really?”
I should’ve known she wasn’t going to just let it go. I stared down at my feet.
Her voice went soft. “What happened?”
There it was. That question I didn’t want to answer. I hated talking about that time in my life. It was dark and painful. It had taken me a long time to move on from it.
“Never mind. You don’t have to answer that,” she said, picking up on my hesitation.
I glanced at her and watched recognition take over her face.
“Your girlfriend. The one who …” Her voice trailed off. “I’m sorry, Jase. My mom mentioned … I just didn’t realize.”
“It’s all right.”
“Do you want to tell me about her?”
Do I want that? To talk about her with Saylor?
I thought it might help Saylor, so I allowed my mind to drift to another life. To Candace. I fixed my eyes to the top of the hill, searching the horizo
n for words, and then cleared my throat.
“After I finished my master’s, I got a job offer and moved to Montana. One night after work, I went out for a drink with a couple of buddies. That was when I met Candace.” I smiled at the memory. “We were at this bar, watching a hockey game. The Capitals were playing.” I laughed, recalling her face so clearly. “Originally being from Washington, Candace was very passionate, you see. She was a spitfire, yelling at the TV like the players could hear her. Teasing her was too damn hard to resist, so I didn’t even try. I gave her so much shit.”
Saylor laughed. “I hope she gave it right back.”
“She did.” An old, familiar ache settled in my chest. “She was everything. Funny, intelligent, competitive, and she had this insane sense of adventure. A total adrenaline junkie. The woman was fearless, and I loved her like I had never loved anyone.”
It had been years since I talked about any of this. The closer we got to Chadwick’s office building, the more our steps slowed.
Saylor gave me the time I needed to get through the story.
The ground had leveled out. I stopped walking, and she did, too.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and met Saylor’s gaze. “I booked a ski weekend for us, and I planned to pop the question over dinner after a day on the slopes.”
I never found an easy way to say the words that came next. No way to stop the memory of that day from rushing at me. Occasionally, the scene still played out in my nightmares. When it did, it always happened in slow motion, and I would come to, screaming her name. The same way I had that day.
“We were on an intermediate run. Candace flew past me. She lost control and crashed into a tree.” I rubbed at the back of my neck.
Saylor gasped, her face revealing the horrific nature of my words.
I needed the story to be over, so I kept on going, “She sustained blunt force trauma to her skull and suffered multiple internal injuries. She died on the way to the hospital.”
“Oh my God.” Saylor’s hand went to her mouth. “Jase.” Her eyes shone with tears as she reached for my hand.
Warmth filled me at her touch. The noise of passing cars and barking dogs fell away. Everything faded into the background until it was just us. Two people tethered together by threads of similar sorrow.
Candace and I hadn’t been married. Hell, we hadn’t even been engaged because she died hours before I could ask her to be my wife. We never had children. But had she not died on that mountain, we would have built a life together. Losing her devastated me. A ring and a piece of paper wouldn’t have lessened the loss.
My stare locked on Saylor’s, and I spoke the words my grandfather had once told me, “Grief is constant but fluid. The form of it might be altered by the passing of time, but grief itself is infinite.”
Saylor drew me into a hug.
I had wanted to comfort her, yet here she was, comforting me.
Holding her close, I spoke softly against her head, “I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but I promise you that, eventually, it does get easier.”
Several long moments passed as we stood there, embracing on the sidewalk in the middle of a fall afternoon.
When Saylor stepped back, an apology was on her lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to turn so heavy.”
I shrugged. “Maybe talking about it did us both some good.”
“Thank you for today. I really needed it. I don’t think I realized how much.”
“Anytime. If you ever need someone to talk to, somebody that gets it … I’m here.”
“I appreciate that. The same goes for you.” Her gaze moved to her feet before lifting to my face. “I have to get back.” She gestured over her shoulder.
I pulled my cell from my back pocket. “What’s your number?”
She rattled off the digits, and I created a contact for her in my phone. Then, I called her. When her bag started ringing, I hung up.
“Now, you have mine, too.”
“Because we’re friends?”
“Yes. Tell Easton I’ll give him a call about the design.”
“I will.” She took a step, but her eyes were still on mine.
I gave her a wink. “I’ll see you around, Socks.”
Saylor smiled, and I could tell it was genuine.
She really was gorgeous.
“Bye, Jase.”
I watched her cross the street, staring at her as she walked away.
The way my body reacted to her, I knew I was in trouble.
Aside from the fact that she was my best friend’s little sister, Saylor was still mourning the loss of her husband. Knox had lost his father. And I never pictured my life with anyone but Candace.
Until now, I thought as the organ in my chest, the one that had ceased beating long ago, sputtered to life once more.
Eleven
Saylor
A few days had passed since my lunch with Jase. Today had been hard. I missed Colin so much that I ached, and I needed someone to talk to. Lying in bed and flipping through the channels only made me feel worse.
I stared at my phone on the bedside table.
Call him.
No, I couldn’t call him. For starters, it was after eleven on a weeknight. When you called a person that late, they always assumed the worst. Calling Jase was out of the question.
So, text him.
I rolled over and stretched for my phone. Once it was in my grasp, I glared at the dark screen. I bit the nail of my index finger and wondered what I should say. Then, I felt ridiculous because I was overthinking, and it wasn’t going to help. I unlocked my phone, pulled up his contact, and started typing.
Me: Are you awake?
The dots started jumping almost immediately.
Jase: I’m here, Socks. Everything okay?
Me: Rough day. Can’t sleep.
Jase: What can I do?
Me: Be my friend.
Jase: I can do that.
Me: I miss him. I’m so fucking tired of missing him.
Jase: I know.
Me: I tried to watch TV. Huge mistake.
Jase: Why?
Me: P.S. I Love You is on.
Jase: Shit. Not cool.
Me: You’ve seen it?
Jase: Sadly. My sister’s love for Gerard Butler has scarred me for life.
Me: LOL. Thanks. I needed that.
Me: Jase?
Jase: Yeah.
Me: Can I call you?
Jase: You can call me whenever you want. You never have to ask.
I tapped the icon and listened for the phone to ring.
“Hey, Socks.”
“When are you going to stop calling me that?”
“Never.”
“Figures.” After a second, I whispered, “I miss him, but it’s more than that. I miss who I was when I was with him.”
* * *
Jase
There were miles between us, yet her heartache was palpable. I hated that she was hurting. That her life had been devastated by pain and loss. I didn’t talk to anyone about Candace. The aftermath of losing her.
“It’s my fault Candace is dead.” The admission stung. I’d never spoken those words aloud to anyone.
“Jase, it was an accident.”
“If we had never gone on that trip …” I’d spent a long time wishing we hadn’t.
“You can’t think like that. It’s not your fault.”
I heard rustling through the speaker, like she was finding a more comfortable position.
“You have to say that.”
“I’m not that nice. If I thought it was your fault, I would tell you.”
I laughed. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“I would. Trust me. I am that friend. If you want to know if your ass looks huge in a pair of jeans, I am not the woman you want to ask, especially if you don’t want the truth.”
“Harsh.”
“A little. I blame Colin for dying. And I blame myself. He had an undiagnosed heart condition
. He never made time to have a checkup. If I had been a better wife, I would have made him an appointment.”
“That isn’t your fault.”
She sighed. “It feels that way sometimes. Like I should have noticed something.”
“What do you miss the most about him?”
“Everything.” Her voice grew thick. “I miss the little things. The way he always seemed to know what I needed. How attentive he was to Knox. The way he smelled. What do you miss about Candace?”
“Her laugh. She had a great laugh.” I yawned.
“Are you tired? If you’re sleepy, I can let you go.”
I was exhausted, but I wouldn’t tell her that. “I’m fine. Are you tired?”
“A little.”
Silence fell between us. For a second, I thought she might have hung up.
“Jase?”
“I’m here, Socks.”
“Can I ask you a favor? I know this is going to sound weird. Lately, I’ve been having trouble sleeping …” She grew quiet.
“Tell me what you need.”
“Will you stay on the phone? Just until I fall asleep.”
“Of course.”
There was more rustling over the line. “Good night, Jase.”
“Night, Socks.”
“Please don’t hang up.”
I hated the way her voice sounded so small.
“I won’t hang up until you fall asleep. I promise.”
And I didn’t. Not until twenty minutes later when her soft snores filled my ear.
Twelve
Saylor
Over the last month, late-night phone calls with Jase had become something I looked forward to. It started off with a text, but we always ended up on the phone. Sometimes, I talked, and other times, I listened. A few times, we’d watched the same movie and had a running commentary. Somehow, Jase knew the nights I needed him to stay on the phone until I fell asleep.
I was slowly adjusting to my new normal. At least, that was the lie I told myself. Because nothing about my new life resembled my old life at all, but I was trying, and it was all that mattered. As one day faded into the next, I relaxed into my job at CDD.
