Jane's Gift

by Abby Gaines

  “She’s not coming,” Kyle said. The flatness in his voice told Charles not to ask questions.

  He and Jane must have had a fight. Charles felt ashamed of himself for hoping it might be the end of their relationship, but there it was. He turned the corkscrew until it was firmly embedded, then eased the cork out.

  “How’s that sister of hers doing at your place?” Charles asked.

  Kyle hesitated. “Not sure.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “Who’s that?” Kyle asked.

  Charles practically ran for the door. Micki stood on the porch, beautiful in a coral-colored top that was loose-fitting but semitransparent, and gray slacks.

  “You look lovely.” He kept his voice low.

  “So do you.” She went up on tiptoe and kissed him. It took all of one second for the kiss to turn serious.

  He pulled back quickly. “Wow.”

  “Just making sure you don’t get cold feet.” She grinned as she slipped past him into the hallway.

  “Believe me, nothing’s cold right now,” he muttered.

  In the kitchen, Kyle looked surprised to see her. “Hey, Micki. You dropping off some coffee?” Like a lot of people in town, Charles bought his coffee from her—she ground the beans to order and delivered them.

  Micki darted Charles a reproachful glance for not having said she was coming.

  “Kyle just got here,” Charles said. “I invited Micki for dinner,” he told his son.

  Kyle’s barely concealed eye-roll confused him. Then he realized: Kyle thought Charles was trying to fix up Micki with him or Gabe.

  Just the thought made his gut churn. And reminded him he was way too old for her.

  An awkward silence fell.

  “Would you like a wine, Micki?” Charles showed her the bottle.

  “Sure. I’ll check on dinner.” She headed for the oven and Charles couldn’t take his eyes off her rear in those snug pants.

  He felt like a pervert. The kind of guy he would have had zero respect for when he was a cop. Would have told himself he knew what a sicko he was, and he’d be keeping an eye on him.

  “You came to dinner and you have to cook?” Kyle asked.

  Micki peeled the foil off the casserole dish in the oven. “I brought this over earlier. It’s nothing fancy.”

  Gabe arrived ten minutes later. Charles relaxed a little. This was all falling into place.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Micki announced a few minutes after that.

  Call him old-fashioned, but Charles loved seeing her in his kitchen. He helped her serve up, and his heart almost burst at the pleasure of sharing a simple task with the woman he loved. His hand brushed hers as he served the mashed potato, just a glancing touch, but Gabe’s sharp eyes caught it.

  His son said nothing, but Charles turned clumsy. By the time they carried their plates to the table, the tension in the air seemed tangible. Or maybe that was just him.

  Charles said grace and they started to eat in near silence. They all seemed preoccupied. This wasn’t how Charles wanted to share his and Micki’s news. He’d envisaged them all laughing and bantering, and him slipping in a casual mention that he and Micki were seeing each other.

  Micki read his thoughts; she gave a rueful smile and a slight shrug, as if to say, “What can you do?”

  Charles knew what he couldn’t do. He couldn’t wait a minute longer to come clean. He set down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with his napkin. Micki’s lovely eyes widened.

  “Micki and I are dating,” he announced.

  Well, that got everyone’s attention. Both Kyle and Gabe jerked their heads up. Kyle’s knife and fork were suspended halfway between plate and mouth.

  It would be nice if someone said something.

  “It’s been going on for nearly two weeks, though we’ve both been interested for much longer,” he said. “I would have told you sooner, but we wanted to be sure we were serious before we went public.” Before we risked public disapproval or ridicule.

  Still, no one spoke.

  “I didn’t go to a cop convention last weekend,” he said. “Micki and I went camping. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

  “Are you nuts?” Kyle’s question exploded into the silence. “She’s half your age!”

  Gabe opened his mouth, and closed it again. The math might not be right, but he obviously couldn’t disagree with Kyle’s gist.

  “I’m twenty-two years younger,” Micki corrected him. “We’re well aware of the age gap, Kyle. Why else do you think we haven’t said anything before now?”

  “What exactly does dating mean?” Kyle asked.

  Charles felt heat around the back of his neck. “I’m sure you’re not asking for details of my personal relationship.”

  “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  “Me, too,” Gabe said. He didn’t look quite as unhappy as Kyle, but he wasn’t thrilled.

  “This wouldn’t be happening if I didn’t care about Micki a great deal,” Charles said.

  “And the feeling’s mutual,” she added.

  “Dad, you’re an elder of the church,” Kyle said.

  “There’s no prescribed age gap for couples in the Bible,” Charles said. “I haven’t done anything that’s at odds with the conduct required of an elder, and I don’t plan to. If people object for their own reasons, they can vote me out at the annual meeting.”

  Gabe spoke up. “Don’t take this personally. But if you weren’t my father and you—” he glanced at Micki “—weren’t my friend...if you were a couple in my church I was counseling, I’d ask if you’ve talked about what happens twenty years down the track, if Dad gets sick or gets Alzheimer’s.”

  “I could get run over by a bus tomorrow,” Micki said.

  “Not in Pinyon Ridge,” Gabe pointed out. The town didn’t have a bus service at this time of year. “Sure, anything can happen, but the most likely scenario is that at some stage, Dad will be relatively infirm, and you’ll still be a young woman.”

  Charles grunted. “We’ve talked about this.” Admittedly with rose-tinted spectacles on...but it was only natural to focus on the fact they were both healthy and strong.

  “If I was counseling you, I’d suggest you likely have two separate groups of friends and ask how comfortable each of you will be socializing in the other group,” Gabe said. “I’d also ask if Micki wants to have children—”

  “I don’t,” she said.

  “—and I’d point out that people change their minds on that score, so even if you think you don’t want them now, what happens if you want them in a couple of years’ time?”

  “You’re talking marriage?” Kyle said, aghast.

  “We haven’t talked about marriage,” Micki said. “We’ve been dating two weeks.”

  “But if it gets that far, I don’t mind if we have kids,” Charles said. Right away, he realized he’d said that wrong.

  “The idea is you’re supposed to both want the same thing,” Gabe said.

  “All relationships require compromise,” Micki said.

  “And kids shouldn’t be one of them,” Kyle interjected. “Believe me, I know. You two have no right to be so irresponsible.”

  “Shut it, Kyle,” Charles growled.

  Kyle jerked back in this seat. His dad never spoke to his kids like that. Now he was dating a young woman and turning into a stranger.

  “I can’t believe it,” Kyle said. “For years you’ve lectured me and Gabe not to start
any relationship that doesn’t fit with our values and principles, and now you’re chasing after a bit of skirt—”

  Charles shot to his feet; the table rattled. “Don’t you dare talk about Micki like that.”

  His face was red; Kyle guessed his words had hit home.

  Micki looked furious.

  Good. “Come off it, Dad, you’re nearly sixty. If you had a kid in a couple of years, you’d be eighty when it graduated high school. You know you always laugh at those old men on TV who are on their second wives. Dotage dads, you call them.”

  Kyle couldn’t believe this was happening. He’d come here tonight planning to confide in his father and Gabe, though he hadn’t quite figured out what he was going to say. Something about...I like Jane Slater a lot...but I’m not sure we can get over the past. But now Dad was embroiled in something equally unsuitable, and apparently not giving the issues a second thought.

  Kyle suspected the strength of his own reaction was in part because he’d screwed up with Jane and was feeling like a jerk. But how was he supposed to be the good guy when he really did believe her sister was the blackmailer?

  He’d had another text from her on his way here. You have 48 hours. Confirm you will pay and I will give instructions. He was almost considering paying, if it would get Cat out of town and give him time to figure out how to deal with this whole mess.

  “Kyle, you need to lighten up,” Micki said.

  “Are you speaking as my friend or as my future stepmother?” he demanded.

  There was an arrested pause as that ludicrous image filled the imaginations around the table.

  His dad looked hurt.

  “We’re only dating at this stage,” Micki reiterated. She came around the table to stand behind Charles. She put her hands on his shoulders. Charles softened and straightened at the same time. When he looked up at Micki, his face filled with tenderness.

  “We know this won’t be easy,” she said. “But it’s what we want. We would appreciate your and Gabe’s support, but the lack of it won’t stop us.”

  No way, Kyle thought. This was a disaster waiting to happen.

  “If the Episcopalians throw you out, you can always come to Pinyon Ridge Community,” Gabe joked. “You might find us more accepting.”

  “Not funny,” Micki snapped. Like the rest of them, she knew how much Charles loved St. Thomas’s.

  Charles looked stricken. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “You’re making a fool of yourself,” Kyle told his father.

  Charles had always basked in the good opinion of others; it was important to him. Now, his father shook his head, his mouth set in a mutinous line. But Kyle discerned a flicker of doubt.

  He did his best to fan it into a flame. “I’m sure when you’re together it all seems very romantic. But the minute you step out in public, you’ll be nothing more than a joke.”

  His father flinched.

  Micki shot Kyle a look filled with dislike. “I think you’re wrong. Jane didn’t laugh.”

  It took a second for her meaning to sink in, helped by Gabe’s indrawn breath.

  “Jane knows about this?” Kyle demanded.

  Micki nodded. “I asked her not to tell anyone, so don’t go blaming—”

  “When?” he barked. “When did you tell her?”

  “A few weeks ago. She’s been very supportive.”

  What? All this time, while he and Jane had been growing closer, sharing the delight of Daisy’s progress, she’d known his dad and Micki were dating?

  “Did she know you went camping?” He didn’t know why he bothered asking. Of course she did.

  Micki’s little nod confirmed it.

  Jane had let him help her in the café, working side by side in a way that had felt...special. And all the time she’d known Micki and his dad were off making out in the woods?

  Kyle dumped his napkin on the table and pushed back his chair.

  “We haven’t finished our conversation,” his father said.

  “Later,” Kyle snapped.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “I DON’T THINK the color’s quite right,” Jane said as Daisy steered the electric beater around the bowl of frosting they were mixing for the cupcakes they’d just baked.

  The cupcake craze was sweeping kindergarten and “all” of Daisy’s friends were making them with their moms....

  Daisy had asked Jane to make them with her.

  Not as a mother, of course, but still...

  After the argument she and Kyle had had this afternoon, this might be the last opportunity Jane got to do something special with Daisy.

  She’d wanted to prolong it, so they’d made the cupcakes from scratch. In the end they’d produced ten perfect cupcakes and two somewhat misshapen ones.

  It had been hard to be upbeat with Daisy when all the while Jane was seething about Kyle’s comments this morning. He’d written Cat off without a shred of evidence, and more or less said outright he and Jane had no future. A combination of hurt and anger burned a hole in her chest, but somehow she kept smiling for Daisy.

  Jane added a couple more drops of red food coloring to the bowl—the aim was princess-pink frosting—and Daisy chased them with her beaters. When her little arm tired, she offered the mixer to Jane. Jane gave it a few more seconds, then lifted the beaters out. “What do you think?”

  “Just right.” Daisy beamed. She was still a child of few words, but very different from the girl she’d been six weeks ago.

  They heard the front door open. Was Kyle back from dinner already?

  Seconds later, he appeared in the kitchen doorway. Tension radiated from him, and his eyes glittered dangerously. What did he have to look mad about? She was the one whose sister had been unjustly accused. Jane glared at him.

  He glared back, positively ferocious. Then he turned to Daisy and the glitter left his eyes. He smiled, one of those forced grins Jane hadn’t seen in a while. “Hi, sweetie.”

  “Hi, Daddy,” Daisy said.

  “I need to talk to Jane privately,” he said. “Can you go upstairs?”

  “Why can’t I talk, too?”

  Wow, Daisy had just answered back.

  “We need to let this frosting firm up a little,” Jane said. “How about you go upstairs and play with your Lego?”

  “I’ll play with my princess doll,” Daisy decided.

  Her willingness to state a preference, even when it went against Kyle’s or Jane’s suggestion, was a wonderful new development.

  There was a long, tense silence as they listened to Daisy walking up the stairs, then the click of her bedroom door closing.

  Jane jumped in. “I hope you’re here to apologize.”

  “For what?” he demanded. “My stupidity in trusting you?”

  “You don’t trust me,” she said. “Or my sister. This morning you threw away the—the bond that’s grown between us, all that hard work, because you’re totally hung up on my Slater-ness.”

  “You’re the one who threw it away,” he roared, taking her by surprise. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me.”

  “Knew what? I’m telling you, my sister is not—”

  “Micki!” he snapped. “And my father.”

  Oh. That. Help.

  “You knew my dad was seeing Micki and you didn’t tell me. You let me help you run the Eating Post, and the whole time you were deceiving me. You knew there was no way I’d have lent my support to their relationship.
”

  Jane winced. “Micki asked me not to say anything....”

  “You didn’t have to agree!” He prowled the kitchen like a tiger staking out its next meal. “You could have decided that you and I owed each other the truth. That what we had depended on honesty and trust to survive.”

  “What we had?” she demanded, incredulous. “We had nothing, not if you could accuse my sister of a crime without a shred of evidence. And when I asked you what was between us, all you could come up with was that you like my damn pajamas!” She flung out a hand in disgust, and almost sent the frosting flying. She pushed the bowl to the back of the counter. “You couldn’t commit to any more than wanting to sleep with me.”

  “I was working on it,” he shouted. “And all the while, you were working on keeping a secret. Another damn secret, Jane.”

  His voice cracked; he stopped.

  Jane drew in a sharp breath. “This is nothing like what happened with Lissa. What Charles and Micki do is none of your—”

  “It’s exactly like Lissa,” he said. “Only back then, you didn’t owe me anything, I accept that. But now...”

  “I owe you the same level of respect and admiration you’ve given me,” she said. “Which is zilch.” He opened his mouth to protest, and Jane held up a hand. “Oh, yes, there have been moments. Moments when it seemed we could put our differences aside. View each other without the lens of history in the way. But when it comes down to it, we’re not going anywhere because you’re worried you can’t win the election with me in your life. And you can’t trust me.”

  “I have every reason not to trust you,” he yelled. “You just hid from me that my dad is crazy—and I do mean crazy—for Micki.”

  “They genuinely care for each other, it’s not just—”

  “That’s not the point. The point is, I did trust you. I spent the afternoon feeling like crap for accusing your sister of blackmail. For hurting you like that. And all along...”

  He stopped, sounding defeated. But only for a moment.