by JoAnn Ross
“Why, Aiden,” Gloria greeted him with a warm smile. “What a coincidence! Your mother just invited us for Thanksgiving, so we’re gathering up ingredients for my pie.” She opened the freezer and took out a bag of cranberries. “Jolene’s bringing a side dish.”
He turned his attention to Jolene. “Really?” Was that skepticism she heard in his tone?
“She’s using a recipe she got from a famous Los Angeles chef.”
“Sounds fancy,” he said, giving Jolene an accessing look.
Yes, that was definitely skepticism. What, did he think she ate out at Spago, the Chateau Marmont or Epicure with movie stars every night? She could cook. Sort of. In a pinch. Like the blue box of bright orange mac and cheese Ètienne had instructed her to never again mention in his presence. She’d gotten the feeling he wasn’t kidding.
“It looks pretty easy,” she admitted. “But Ètienne, he’s my best friend’s fiancé, who worked his way up from a food truck to an insanely popular restaurant on Melrose, assures me everyone loves it.”
“Does it have bacon in it?”
“As a matter of fact, it does.”
He smiled. That slow, easy smile that brought out those dimples he used to use to his advantage back in high school and made Jolene glad she was holding on to the cart handle because she could feel her knees going weak.
“Well.” Her mother glanced back and forth between them. The same way she had at the hospital. “Since your mother says you won’t be able to be at Thanksgiving dinner because you have to work, why don’t I leave you two to catch up while I get the apples for my pie and jalapeño for the side dish? Oh, and the wine.”
Jolene blew out a breath as her mother headed off with the cart. “That wasn’t obvious or anything.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that once their kids hit a certain age, all mothers start thinking of marrying them off. And having grandchildren.”
“Tell me about it,” Jolene muttered. “She told me she’d be lucky to get a grandpuppy. Which, to be honest, is probably closer to the truth, given my work.” And her decision to stay single like other women who’d redefined old maid spinsterhood. Like Diane Keaton. Oprah. Queen Latifah. Her brain scrambled for another example. Mother Teresa probably didn’t count since she’d also remained celibate all her life.
“Brianna’s taken a little heat off my brothers and me,” he said. “For now. But if she and Seth don’t get married and pop out a kid really soon, we’ll all be back in Mom’s bull’s-eye.”
“That’s understandable from a woman brave enough to have five children herself.” Jolene suddenly realized what a crowd of Mannion grandchildren that one family could produce. “Wow. If each of you were to have five children, then each of them had five...”
“Yeah. I’ve done the math. But I wouldn’t hold my breath on any of us going that overboard. Though it would give Seth a lot of work expanding Mom and Dad’s farmhouse for family sleepovers.”
Jolene glanced down at the six-pack of his Winter Blizzard Brew, a nonalcoholic beer from his brother Quinn’s microbrewery, and the boxes of frozen meals.
“FYI,” he said. “Despite how this looks, I do eat real food. In fact, Luca has a pepperoni and sausage pizza waiting for me when I finish up here.”
“Your meal choice suggests you’re not staying at the farm.” She couldn’t see anything in that cart his farm-to-table mother would approve of. Even Sarah Mannion’s famed fried chicken was sourced from a local organic farmer. She did wonder about the nonalcoholic beer.
“As much as I love my family, that’s more closeness than I’d care to have. I did spend some time at the coast house when I first got back.”
Jolene had been to the coast house once, right before their breakup. They’d each told their parents the clichéd teenage lie that they were staying with friends, and had escaped for an overnight to the coast. It was a beautiful house set on the cliff overlooking the sea. Even then, they hadn’t really done anything but some petting with their tops off.
In fact, he’d given her the master bedroom and slept in his room down the hall. To avoid temptation, he’d said at the time. Part of her had been relieved. Another part had wanted to make love with Aiden Mannion so badly, she could practically feel her hormones shouting at her to just get out of bed and walk down that hall.
“Do you think they knew about us back then?” she asked. It was one thing to avoid the topic at the wedding. Another for it to be between them if they were going to keep running into each other, which was inevitable in a small town.
“I thought we were being brilliantly surreptitious at the time, but yeah, looking back, my mom, at least, probably suspected, since she spent all day at the school, and I swear had eyes in the back of her head because no one ever got away with anything. So she probably would’ve told your mom. As for Dad, he can be typically guy-clueless about that kind of thing, so who knows?
“This is a tough place to keep secrets,” he said what she’d learned long ago. “Seth told me he’d thought he and Brianna were keeping their relationship under wraps until he discovered that nearly half the town knew about them before they went public. And not casting any shade, but you made it even more obvious something was going on between us when you went out of your way to ignore me at Kylee and Mai’s wedding.”
“You ignored me first.”
“Me?” he shot back, with what appeared to be honest, baffled male frustration. Dark curls her fingers literally itched to touch fell over his forehead when he shook his head. “Hell, Jolene. I was only following your lead. I’m not the kind of guy who pushes myself on a woman who’s throwing out a don’t-you-dare-to-get-within-a-hundred-yards-of-me vibe.”
“Okay.” Jolene blew out a long breath. “Maybe I was trying to avoid you.” There’d been no maybe about it, and they both knew it. “But not because I was mad about you breaking up with me, but because I was embarrassed.”
“Seriously? Not about that night?”
“This isn’t any place to talk about that night,” she hissed as Madison Drew, who had supposedly been being publicly “cozy” with Aiden that day that had changed her life, paused down the aisle at the ice cream section.
From the toddlers seated in the cart, it appeared that she, at least, had provided her mother with grandkids. Jolene remembered Madison had always had to be better than anyone else. That she’d somewhat accomplished that with twins, had some small, snarky (and obvious insane) part of Jolene, who remembered the bullying all too well, wanting to give her own mother triplets, just to one-up Madison.
“I agree this isn’t the place. But don’t you think you should just let it go after all this time?” His face was nearly as serious as she vaguely remembered it being that night. “Believe me, I’ve learned that some stuff will eat away at you if you hold on too long.”
She glanced over at Madison, who wasn’t even trying to pretend she wasn’t watching them. Where was her mother with those damn apples?
“I hardly ever think about it. Except...”
No. She was about to mention those nightmares, that too often turned into erotic dreams with Aiden, like Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine but without the claws, arriving to save the day. Which was weird because she hated the damsel in distress romance trope. Then again, she had been in serious distress, and he had saved her day. Or more specifically night.
“Except when you’re here in Honeymoon Harbor,” he finished for her. “That’s why you’ve always flown your mom down to California for visits instead of coming home.”
“How did you know that? If you’ve only recently been back yourself?”
“I always came home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Except when I was in Afghanistan. I think Seth may have mentioned you never coming back.”
“Proving yet again that guys gossip, too.”
“It’s not gossip. It’s sharing information.�
��
Information about her. Why? Had Seth volunteered the information? Or had Aiden asked? And didn’t that send her right back to high school? Next she’d be passing a note to Brianna to ask Seth to ask Aiden if he liked her.
“It’s not all that easy being back,” she admitted, remembering that he’d been the only person in town she could talk with. She hadn’t shared the cruel conjectures about what might have been going on in that trailer with her mother, because she hadn’t wanted to hurt her. She’d later realized Gloria had undoubtedly known about the gossip for years. “Especially with you here, too.”
“It’ll only be hard if you make it that way. And my vote is for moving on, since I’m not going anywhere and you said you’re staying until New Year’s.”
“Or longer, if Mom... Well, I’m trying not to go down a scary road I don’t even know might be there.”
“I know that feeling. But here’s the thing, we need to talk.”
“I really don’t want to relive that night with you.”
“Not that night. Well, maybe some of it. But the other thing that happened.”
“When you stood me up for the prom?” And didn’t that sound silly all these years later? But it was going to be the first time they’d have gone public, and when the night had gotten later and he still hadn’t shown up at the trailer, she’d become convinced that he hadn’t wanted to be seen with her.
“Because I got arrested.”
“For stealing that beer. Then the next day you broke up with me. But we were just kids. And now we’re not. Like you said, I’ve moved on. I don’t ever think about that. In fact, before you brought it up, I’d forgotten all about you dumping me.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“We need to talk,” he repeated. “Clear the air. Because life doesn’t tell you your end date ahead of time.”
“Talking about end dates isn’t very helpful when my mother’s possibly facing a cancer diagnosis.”
“Yeah, okay, so that wasn’t my best example.” He dragged his hands through those curls again. “But the Marines and the cops have taught me that life can be cut short and sometimes you don’t get a chance to say the things you’ve been wanting to say for a long time.”
And suddenly, out of nowhere, that wickedly familiar smile flashed its dimples. But as charming as it was, it didn’t reach his eyes. “You wouldn’t refuse me a chance to try to explain and grovel for past misdeeds, would you?”
“You don’t have anything to grovel for.” Teenagers tended to have relations that lasted as long as spindrift blown from the crest of a wave. They broke up every day. So did adults, as she and Chad proved.
“Sweetheart, we couldn’t begin to count the ways.” A bit of the light she remembered so vividly appeared in his eyes like storm lighting on the water. Hot, dangerous and gone in seconds. Jolene also assured herself that sweetheart hadn’t been a true term of endearment, but something guys said automatically.
“All right.” She threw up her hands. “You’re probably right. Because it’s obvious we’ve both moved on.” She wondered if he was seeing, aka having hot sex, with anyone, but wouldn’t her mother have mentioned that? “But Mom’s getting the news about her ultrasound tomorrow. I can’t even think of anything else until at least after that.”
“I totally get that.” He handed her his phone. “Put in your number. And, unless you think I’m going to harass you with dick pics—”
“Don’t even say that.” She’d already had more than her share of those. So many men in Hollywood, it seemed, were prone to want to share their junk. That was one of the reasons she’d signed that petition. Then, surprising herself by laughing at the idea of Aiden, of all people doing such a repulsive thing, exchanged phones.
“See,” he said as their fingers touched, sending off such a shower of sparks and heat she was surprised didn’t set off the store fire detector sprinklers. “We still have it. Whatever the hell it is.”
“I really have to go,” she said.
“Okay. And although your mom will probably call mine after her doctor’s report, give me a call or text and let me know how you’re both doing. Because I care.”
It couldn’t be this easy, Jolene thought as she walked away, unable to resist pausing in front of the frozen vegetables. While she pretended to ponder whether to get the mixed carrots and peas or stir-fry veggies, Madison had apparently finally decided on her ice cream and steered her cart directly to Aiden. The way she was looking up at him through her lashes as she avidly chatted away, seemed inappropriate for a mother of twin toddlers.
“Hussy,” her mother said, who’d just returned as Madison brushed his arm with the side of her breast as she leaned into the freezer to retrieve a box of Lean Cuisine spring rolls. Gloria dumped a plastic bag of apples and another with jalapeños into the cart. “I’ve never liked her.”
Neither had Jolene. Not only had Madison Drew led the mean girls’ taunts, she’d been the one to declare who was in and who was out. During those years the only two people who’d sit with Jolene at the cafeteria had been Brianna, who might have only been doing it because her goal in life seemed to make everyone feel comfortable, and Kylee, who still hadn’t come out of the closet, which made her an outsider. Jolene had always considered Kylee fabulously talented and ridiculously gorgeous in a Ginger Spice way, but individuality wasn’t exactly embraced in high school.
“Isn’t she married?” For some reason, the editor of the alumni newsletter had unearthed Jolene’s email address after she’d gotten nominated for the Emmy and had sent her a copy. Although the last thing she wanted to think about were her high school days, curiosity about how people’s lives had turned out had her occasionally skimming it. Madison’s twins had been big news. Along with the fact that she had—natch—gotten down to her pre-birth size two in just six weeks.
“She is. She married Thane Covington. You know, his family owns that real estate company and he was only around in the summer because he went to prep school back East somewhere. Until then, she’d been working as a teller in the Mannions’ bank. But marriage doesn’t always stop people from fooling around. And no,” she tacked on as Jolene’s eyes narrowed with a question, “your father, for all his flaws, never ran around on me. He had incredibly poor judgment and not the best group of friends, but he was always faithful.”
“I’m glad. Aiden would never hook up with a married woman.” She recalled him telling her about being hit on by a housewife whose lawn he’d mowed one summer.
“Of course he wouldn’t. He was never the bad boy he wanted everyone to think he was. Back then he rebelled against what everyone expected him to be because of John being mayor. These days, they’d just call it acting out.”
They made their way to the checkout stand, where Winnie Cunningham, who’d been checking out Honeymoon Harbor customers in the market for as long as Jolene could remember, was still behind the register.
“Why, look who’s back home,” she said, looking at Jolene over the top of her trifocals while not stopping scanning the items. “I’m so sorry about your breakup.”
“Thank you.” Jolene was getting tired of telling people she really didn’t mind. She also wondered what the reaction would be if she told the absolute truth. That’d he’d been a bust in bed.
“You’re lucky to be rid of that bum who was cheating on you with that actress. Is it true you might be pregnant?” She skimmed a look over Jolene, who had an urge to suck in her stomach.
Damn. Perhaps she should have checked more of those texts. “Absolutely not.”
“I told Hazel—you remember, hon, she waited tables at the diner. Still does for that matter. Anyway, after she read it in The National Enquirer, I told her that was fake news probably made up so the story would read more sensational. Like that Bat Boy years ago. Because if your mama was going to be a grandmother, she would’ve been shouting the good news from the rooftops, wou
ldn’t you, Gloria?”
“I wouldn’t go quite that far,” her mother said, exchanging an I’m sorry look with Jolene. “But my daughter would have told me, so I can attest to the fact that she’s definitely not pregnant.”
“I knew that,” Winnie said. “I swear, I, for one, am never going to go to another of either of those two’s movies. In fact, I was going to hide all the magazines with you on the cover, but Mildred, who still owns the place, though I’ve been trying to buy it from her for a decade, insisted it stay up in front where everyone could see it. Given that you’re a hometown girl and all, it’s been selling like crazy. Though some people just read it in line and put it back, which annoys me no end.”
As Winnie scanned in the cheeses, Jolene glanced at the rack and saw her photo on a tabloid magazine in a little circle below the large one of Chad and Tiffany showing off her iceberg ring. The tagline beneath the main photo promised the inside scoop. The one below her, caught wearing her oldest sweater and leggings, with her hair up in a messy bun, simply shouted out her name and JILTED!
“We were already separated,” she hedged. It was almost the truth. They would have been if they’d stayed together long enough for her to break up with him. “It’s not easy keeping up long-distance relationships.”
“I’ve been down that road, honey pie,” Winnie said sympathetically. “My husband, Earl, was a long-haul trucker. Even after he keeled over from a heart attack after a run to Fargo, there were times I’d almost forgotten he’d died, I was so used to being alone.”
Not knowing what to say to that, Jolene said nothing, but with that Spidey supersensitivity she’d always had toward Aiden, she felt him come up behind her in line.
“But Earl certainly had nice turnout at the memorial service,” her mother helpfully filled the small silence.
“That he did,” Winnie agreed. “The man never met a stranger.”
She began bagging the groceries into the canvas bags Jolene always kept in the trunk of her car. “We were all real proud when you got nominated for an Emmy. Now that should have been on the cover of People.”
