HF02 - Forever After

by Deborah Raney

  Bryn had not only helped her set up a job interview for that afternoon, she’d generously offered to let Jenna stay with her until the lease on her apartment was up at the end of January. It bought her a few weeks.

  Jenna was relieved Bryn hadn’t asked about the source of her blowup with Clarissa. She was even more relieved she wouldn’t have to sleep in her car again tonight. That she’d done so last night was a secret she would carry to her grave. Along with a skeleton far more profound. She pushed away the thought.

  Bryn buttoned her coat and reached for the door. “I’ll stay with Dad until late—and maybe go for coffee with Garrett afterward—so if you beat me home, just make yourself comfy.” She shot Jenna a knowing grin. “And have a great time on your date.”

  “I will. But I’ve got laundry to do, so I won’t be too late.”

  Bryn put a hand on her hip. “Listen, girlfriend, don’t you dare come home early from a date with that gorgeous man to do laundry! Do you hear me?”

  Jenna grinned. “Yes, mother.” But the teasing tasted sour on her tongue. The term felt like an insult, though she knew Bryn wouldn’t see it that way.

  “Have fun. I mean it. Just enjoy yourself.”

  “And you just get on to work and don’t worry about me.” She waved Bryn off with a smile. “Oh, hey, where’s your ironing board?”

  “Laundry and ironing? What’s gotten into you?”

  “I don’t have anything ready to wear to my interview this afternoon.”

  “Oh. In that case, the iron’s in the broom closet and the ironing board is folded up beside the dryer.” She opened the closet and showed her where things were, then headed out the door.

  Jenna waited until she was sure Bryn was gone before going to get a few clothes and her laptop from her car. If she brought everything in at once, Bryn would know she’d essentially moved out of the Morgans’ for good.

  She did a load of laundry and ironed several outfits and hung them in the closet in the guest room where she was staying. What did you wear to a job interview to be a grocery checker? Surely they didn’t expect anything too fancy. Any other time she would have asked Clarissa’s advice.

  A wave of sadness came over her. Those days were over. And sometimes—like today—she really missed Zach’s mom.

  She finally settled on a pair of black pants and a silk shirt. She could dress it up with a jacket for the interview and change into a more casual jacket before Lucas picked her up tonight.

  She wasn’t sure which event she was more nervous about.

  Lucas glared at the computer screen, forcing himself to cool off, to start thinking rationally. Sparky sat beside him, looking at him with soft eyes.

  He patted the dog’s head and sighed. On his way home from the firehouse, a Hanover Falls cop had pulled him over. He had it coming. He’d been driving like a maniac, as if he could somehow exact revenge on Peter Brennan from behind the wheel of his truck.

  He’d been lucky to get off with a warning—for speeding. It could have been a big fat ticket for reckless driving. He was sobered by the grace the officer had granted him and felt guilty because he knew the leniency had everything to do with Lucas Vermontez having been a “victim” of the Grove Street fire.

  It wasn’t fair to blame Chief Brennan for his decision. The man was only looking out for his able-bodied men. Lucas knew that. He’d expected exactly the response he got—his rational self had anyway. Pop would have made the same decision. But that didn’t make the rejection any easier.

  Rubbing Sparky’s silky ears, he ran through the browser’s history on his computer, checking out the websites of training facilities for accelerant detection dogs again. Lucky watched warily from the bed.

  Maybe he could find someone else to take Sparky and do the training with him. Maybe one of the new guys at the station would be willing to take him on. But they were shorthanded as it was. Could they afford to give someone six to twelve weeks off—the length of most of the programs he’d researched?

  He pressed his lips into a tight line. Already the thought of letting Sparky go was like a knife to his gut. He’d grown attached to the crazy pooch. And not just the dog, but the idea of training him to be a working dog. Something about that notion had taken hold of him and it wouldn’t let go. Jenna had said Zach talked about training a dog for the station. Maybe this was one small way he could honor his friend.

  He found a training school in Oklahoma. He’d have to make a trip there to have Sparky—and himself—evaluated as candidates. But that was only six hours away, and this facility seemed to have somewhat less rigorous requirements for trainers, with the idea that the eventual handler—at the station—would receive training once the dog was ready.

  Tossing up a prayer, he filled out their application online, trying to be honest about his limitations while still answering in a way that wouldn’t disqualify him before he ever got a hearing.

  He needed two character references, so he put down Captain Peter Brennan’s name, and on a whim, listed Andrea Morley, the fire investigator who’d handled the Grove Street fire. Andi had questioned him several times in the weeks after the fire. She’d been thoughtful and sensitive at a time when he was grieving Pop’s death, and not sure he wanted to go on living.

  Several times since, he’d thought about calling the investigator to thank her. He’d never gotten around to it. Now he had a good excuse to go see her, and thank her.

  He shook his head, pushing away thoughts of Zach and the fact that he had a date with Zach’s wife tonight.

  If he hurried, he’d have time to get to Springfield and back before it was time to pick Jenna up. He’d talk to Andi Morley and maybe have time to stop by the bookstore and look for some books on dog training.

  He checked his watch. On second thought, maybe Jenna would like to ride along. He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and rang her.

  “Oh, I wish I could,” she said, after he explained his plans. “But guess what?”

  “You found an apartment?”

  “Close … first things first. I found a job! Well, maybe … at least I have an interview in an hour and they sounded hopeful on the phone.”

  “Hey, that’s great. Where?”

  “Hanson’s. The grocery store.”

  “Sure, I know it. Good for you.”

  “Bryn worked there for a while before she got back on at the library, so she got me an interview. I’d just be a checker. I don’t really have the experience to do … well, much of anything.”

  “I doubt that. You could probably do anything you put your mind to.”

  “Not without a degree. There’s not much out there unless—”

  “Well, I’m happy for you, Jen.” He cut her off before she could put herself down again. “When would you start? I mean, if you get this job? Have you told the Morgans yet?”

  “I’m not sure. And no … I haven’t talked to Clarissa since I left there the other night.”

  “You don’t think they’re worried about you? Zach’s parents?”

  “Oh, I guarantee Clarissa has done some calling around and at least knows I’m still alive. She has my number.”

  Lucas could almost hear her indifferent shrug over the phone lines.

  “Besides,” she said, “if I call her, I’m afraid I’ll say something I’d regret later.”

  He hated the fact that she was at odds with Zach’s parents. Sure, they were upper-crust and a little hard-line about the whole thing with Bryn, but they’d lost their only son in that fire. Few would blame them for wanting to keep their distance from Bryn.

  But Jenna was all the family they had left. For their sake, he hoped she wasn’t distancing herself from them for good.

  He rubbed his free hand through his tangled mop of curls. “So what hours would you be working at Hanson’s?” he said, choosing to change the subject before he talked himself out of their date.

  “I don’t know yet. Probably evenings for a while. But they don’t stay open very late, so
it shouldn’t be too bad. I’m nervous, though. Would you believe the last time I went to a job interview was in high school?”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “Zach—well, Clarissa, mostly—never wanted me to work. Didn’t think it was befitting someone of my social stature. Ha!”

  “She said that?”

  “Not in so many words. It’s what she meant, though. I guess I’ll show her.” She gave a dry laugh.

  Lucas had always seen Jenna as sweet and optimistic. He wasn’t crazy about the side of her he was seeing now. The bitterness in her voice wasn’t becoming.

  “Well,” he said, trying to cover his pause, “I guess … I’d better get going—and let you get to your interview.”

  “Oh. It’s not until two, but—” There was silence on her end for a few long seconds. “Thanks for calling,” she said finally. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out for me to go with you to Springfield.”

  “Sure. Good luck with the interview. I’ll still see you around seven, right?” He almost wished she would back out on their date. Especially if she was going to be so moody.

  “Seven is good. I’ll see you then. Unless they hire me on the spot and want me to start tonight.” Her laughter fell flat.

  Jenna buttoned her jacket against the cold and followed Lucas to his pickup, glad she’d decided to change into jeans after her interview, since he wore Levi’s and a plaid button-down shirt. He looked great.

  He opened the door for her and waited for her to buckle in before coming around to crawl behind the wheel.

  “So how did the interview go?” he asked, once they were on the road.

  “Okay, I think. I didn’t say anything stupid at least.” She didn’t tell him that she’d almost started crying when the manager who interviewed her asked where she lived. The emotions had taken her completely by surprise. Until that moment she hadn’t allowed herself to think about losing her house, or about Bill and Clarissa’s rejection. Much as she hated to admit it, she missed them. But it was horrible timing for an emotional breakdown.

  “Well, that’s always good.” Lucas seemed strangely cool toward her tonight.

  She shrugged. “I’m supposed to hear something by Monday.”

  “Did they say how many other applicants they were interviewing?”

  She shook her head. “No, but there was a woman waiting for an interview when I came out of his office.”

  “I’ll pray you get the job.”

  “Thanks.” She didn’t put a lot of stock in prayer, but it touched her to think of him praying for her.

  “So you’re staying at Bryn’s tonight?”

  “For a few weeks, actually.”

  “Really? You’re not going back to the Morgans’?”

  She shook her head but didn’t dare look at him. “Not in the foreseeable future.”

  He turned off of Main Street, heading west, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. “It’s too bad you had a falling-out with Zach’s folks.”

  She stared at him, wondering where that had come from. “It is too bad. There was a time I thought Clarissa was my best friend, which is a little sad when you think about it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How many women do you know who are best friends with their mother-in-law?”

  “A few. I hope my wife—my future wife—will be friends with my mother.”

  “Friends is one thing. Best friends is another. Besides, it’s more than that. Clarissa has … had this strange power over me, or maybe I should say I let her—” She stopped. Why was she dumping this on him? Still, she couldn’t resist adding, “I just hope you understand that I didn’t have a choice about moving out. Staying at the Morgans’ would have meant ending my friendship with Bryn. I’m sorry, but that would have felt like I was betraying her.”

  He paused, as if digesting that information. “I understand,” he said finally. “I didn’t mean to sound critical. You did the right thing. I’m just trying to put myself in their place. I know they’ve got to be missing you. And—I think I understand why it was hard for them to see you hanging out with Bryn.”

  She frowned. “But you said you don’t hold anything against Bryn.”

  “No,” he said quickly. “I don’t. That’s not what I meant. But Bryn will always be a reminder to them of what happened.”

  She studied him. “Maybe we’re all reminders to each other. All of us who lost someone in the fire. Doesn’t seeing Bryn make you think about that night? Seeing me even?” Was that why he’d been so cool toward her? Since she and Bryn had grown so close, she rarely thought of Bryn’s connection to the fire, to Zach’s death.

  “I thought about it that first night we talked at the coffee shop. But not since then. But maybe Bryn reminds me a little,” he admitted. “I don’t blame her exactly. … But back to Zach’s parents. What I meant is, you’re all they have left of Zach. It’s got to hurt to have lost you, too.”

  She pushed away the thought that came: he didn’t know the half of it. And this conversation was getting too personal. “I don’t want things to be like this between us. They’ll come around … I think.” She tilted her head. “You don’t like conflict very much, do you?”

  He shrugged. “I come from a family that never fights.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You must not ever talk then.”

  “No. We talk.” He looked annoyed. “We’ve just always gotten along. And if not, we do whatever it takes to work things out.”

  “Yeah, well, if I’d done whatever it took, I’d be banished from associating with Bryn. Just so you don’t think I’m the wicked witch in this scenario …” She worked to keep her tone even.

  He held up both hands, palms out. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to start World War III, not to mention it’s none of my business.” He offered a smile that was hard to resist. “Pretend I never said anything.”

  “No problem.” She felt bad about getting testy with him, but he was right on one count. This wasn’t his business. And besides, he didn’t have all the details he needed to judge her fairly.

  He hoped she wasn’t just making excuses. …

  20

  Did you save room for dessert? Maybe El Coco’s famous merenguitos?” The perky server set a tray of dessert samples on the edge of the table and launched into a well-rehearsed advertisement for each offering.

  Lucas leaned forward in the booth until he caught Jenna’s eye across the table. She put a hand on her stomach and mouthed a decisive no.

  He cleared his throat and the server stopped in the middle of a clever description of the coconut flan.

  “Thanks,” he said, “but I think we’ll pass this time. We’re ready for the check.”

  “Right away.” The girl lifted the tray and headed for the next table.

  “You must be as full as I am.”

  Jenna pulled a face that made him laugh because he knew exactly how she was feeling—stuffed to the gills. Happily so.

  “But dinner was delicious,” she added quickly. “Does your mom cook like this … all these Cuban dishes?”

  “At Christmas. Easter if we’re lucky.” He laughed. “Why do you think I was so excited about eating at El Coco? I’m a third-generation American. Ma and Pop never set foot in Cuba. We like our hamburgers and corn dogs as much as the next American.”

  That made her smile, something she hadn’t done enough of tonight. He took advantage of the moment and glanced pointedly at his watch. “Well, do you want to try and catch a late movie?” They’d had to wait for almost forty-five minutes to be seated, and the earlier shows would have already started.

  “I think I should probably get back. I’m not sure what time Bryn will be in, and …” Her voice trailed off and she fiddled with the edge of her linen napkin.

  “We can go,” he said. “That’s fine.” He hoped she wasn’t just making excuses because she wasn’t enjoying the evening. Thanks to him and his big mouth, their discussion had almost turned into a full-blown fight on the drive to Sprin
gfield. But dinner had gone well and he thought things were smoothed over between them.

  “You’re sure you didn’t have your heart set on seeing a movie?”

  “Not at all. It’s past my bedtime anyway.”

  “Eight thirty?” She looked at him like she thought he might be serious.

  “Just kidding. But by the time we get home, it’ll be close. I’m an early riser.” That much was true. He didn’t tell her that it was usually pain that woke him in the wee hours of the morning.

  The server brought the check and Lucas paid with cash. He retrieved his cane propped between his knees under the table. “Ready?”

  She nodded and slid out of the booth. He followed her to the door, glad that good manners dictated she walk in front of him. Before they’d run into each other that night at Java Joint, he’d almost quit being self-conscious about the cane. He wasn’t stupid enough to try to get along without it, but he tried more than ever to hide his limp and often paid the price the next day with his healthy joints and muscles stiff and achy. At least he hadn’t resorted to pain meds. He was almost ready to throw away what he had left so the temptation wouldn’t be there.

  They talked all the way back to the Falls, and Jenna seemed to be in a better mood. Their conversation was casual and easy, the way he’d always talked with Zach.

  The thought stopped him cold.

  He was out on a date with his buddy’s wife—the thought hit him again. His rational mind knew Zach was gone and not coming back. But he’d spent so much energy in the past working to not pay too much attention to Zach’s gorgeous wife that it felt awkward.

  “Everything okay?” Jenna’s soft voice broke through the sudden silence.

  He shook his head, more to clear it than in answer to her question. “Sorry … I was just thinking.”

  “Oh. Excuse me for interrupting.” Even in the dark of the truck’s cab, he could hear the wry smile in her voice.

  He laughed, trying to remember what they’d just been talking about. “I didn’t mean to space out on you there. And don’t worry, you weren’t interrupting anything important.”