I laughed. “I promise you can come see me tomorrow, and I’ll be more than happy to kiss you then.”
He squeezed my hand, and we began the walk back to his truck.
Chad took us to three more locations, each of them drearier than the last. There were reasons they hadn’t been snapped up yet. At the final one, even Celia seemed disheartened. Back at the casita, I cheered myself by sending an e-mail out to our mailing, baking a fresh batch of scones, and listening to Margot play with the Great Dane.
I snapped a picture of them and sent it to Callum. I didn’t receive a reply, but then, I didn’t expect one either.
I took another picture, this time of the scones, and sent it to Sean. I expected a reply to that text, and yet I didn’t receive anything but orders for the rest of the night. Even heartened by the orders, I found myself sleeping fitfully.
The next morning, though, I had a new text from him.
Those look good, it said. I’m on my way.
I grinned and typed out a reply. I’ll check and see if there’s some left.
“Sean’s coming over!” I called out to Celia.
She stepped out of the bathroom, toweling off her hair. “I promised Mariah I’d look at wallpaper samples this morning, so I’ll be out of the way.”
“I’m not kicking you out,” I told her.
She gave a half smile. “This casita’s barely big enough for the three of us, let alone four. Don’t worry about it.”
“Want to take some scones over? There’s plenty left over, if Mariah doesn’t mind day-olds.”
“I’m sure she’d like them.”
“I’ll put a plate together,” I said, twisting my hair into a ponytail. As I walked to the kitchen, I passed the spot where we’d left the old windows, the ones Teddy had sent.
“Did you tell Teddy thank you from us?” I asked, pointing at them.
“I sent a note,” she said.
“And?”
She smiled sadly and shook her head. “It is what it is, Jane. It’s fine. It’s nothing.”
I felt my chest, my mouth, fill up with words. It wasn’t nothing—I was sure it wasn’t. But she’d finished dressing and slipped on shoes. All I could do was hand her the plate of scones.
Margot and Dash watched Celia walk across the lawn to the big house. “How long are you and Celia going to be fighting?” Margot asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
“We’re…fine,” I answered. It wasn’t a lie, if you used the word fine broadly enough. “Why would you ask that?”
“There’s a weird vibe between you,” she said. “Since we left home.”
“Mmm,” I answered, giving her hair a gentle stroke. “Moving to Austin has been a shift, but Celia and I are fine.”
Her lips pressed together. “You’re like my parents, you know. My weird sister parents.”
“Thanks,” I said dryly. “Does that make you our weird sister daughter?”
Margot didn’t crack a smile; that’s how I knew she was really and truly anxious. I resolved to do better. I would leave Celia alone about Teddy. I would stop caring that she wasn’t confiding in me.
I reached out and put an arm around Margot’s shoulders, pulling her close. “It’s okay. Sometimes change is hard to navigate, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have each other’s backs.”
“What happens?” Margot asked. “If you married Sean, or if Celia and Teddy got back together—which I totally think they should—what happens to me?”
It was a perfectly valid question, one that Celia and I had danced around when she and Teddy started getting serious. But at the time, we’d been comfortably settled in San Francisco. I’d assumed that if Celia and Teddy married, Margot and I would move into the house next door or the attic above them, whichever was more affordable.
Probably the attic.
But we’d all known and loved Teddy, so the question hadn’t warranted asking. We’d known that Margot’s well-being was something he would have been concerned with too.
“Neither of us is getting married anytime soon,” I told her, taking a sip from my mug of tea.
“Sean looks at you like he wants to make out with you all of the time.”
Only the purest self-control prevented me from spraying my mouthful of tea across the front window. “Um, thanks?”
“He’s totally into you.”
“Again, nobody’s getting married in the immediate future.” I felt guilty saying it, though, knowing that Sean had impulsively mentioned the idea. “But even if that changed, you’re ridiculously important to both of us. We’d figure out something and make sure you’re happy with it.”
“You wouldn’t send me away? To live with Dad?”
“No, honey,” I said, giving up the pretense of a casual discussion in order to wrap her in a tight hug. “Never. Not even if you begged to go.”
It must have been something that had troubled her for a while, because rather than shrugging out of the hug, she let me hold her tight.
We stood there until Sean’s truck rumbled up the drive; I lifted a hand in greeting but didn’t let go of Margot.
She sniffed. “Sean’s here.”
“He is.”
“Do you want me to take Dash for a walk?”
“Sure, if you want. But you don’t have to leave the casita if you don’t want to.”
“Nah,” she said, removing herself from my arms the way I’d expected her to minutes before. “You guys might start making out.”
“We…I…” I just closed my mouth. “We’ve never kissed at the casita, not once.”
“Ew! I don’t want to hear about it.”
“You brought it up!”
Margot straightened. “I’m taking Dash out.”
“Don’t forget the bags,” I said. “Or Mariah will never forgive any one of us.”
Dash had long since positioned himself by the door, his alert ears having heard the words Dash, walk, and out. I supervised Margot as she clipped on his leash and checked the bag dispenser that attached near the handle and then walked outside with her to meet Sean.
Margot waved at him and he waved back, grinning his patented Charming Man grin. If he could only bottle that smile, he’d be a millionaire.
I wrapped my arms around his strong torso. “Good morning,” I said, grinning up at him. “Margot’s taking Dash out so she doesn’t accidentally witness us kissing.” I raised myself up on my tiptoes to plant a peck on his jaw. “It’s nice to see you.”
He held me close, then pulled away while holding my hands in his. “Let’s go inside,” he said. “I need to talk to you about something.”
“Oh, sure,” I said, and when he held the door open I stepped through.
We walked to the living room, a journey that required about three steps. Sean led me to one of the club chairs, and he sank into the one opposite me.
The lines of his face were taut and serious. He didn’t look like himself. He looked like a stranger.
My brain whirred as I tried to anticipate whatever Sean might have to say. Was it bad news? I had no reason to believe so. I thought of the time we’d spent together the day before, and my heart warmed all over again. His blue eyes studied my face, blue eyes I trusted without reservation.
Maybe…Was he?
We were facing each other, his face solemn. He couldn’t be…
He couldn’t be asking me to marry him, could he?
Technically, he’d already asked, but was he more serious about it this time? My thoughts instantly raced back to my conversation with Margot.
“Jane,” he said, holding my hand in his. “I— The band and I are leaving.”
“Oh,” I said, my heart giving a flip. We hadn’t spoken again about the prospect of me going with them. If he was leaving sooner, I didn’t understand what it meant. “You’re leaving on tour early? Did you get new gigs or something?”
“Yeah.” He looked down. “We’re making Nashville our home base.”
“So…you’re not
planning on coming back to Austin? You’re moving moving?” My mind spun. “I mean, Nashville makes sense, but what about your aunt?”
“She’s fine,” he said quickly.
“Okay.” That didn’t match with what he’d said in the past. “When are you leaving?”
“Tonight.” He squeezed my hands. “Listen, Jane. I’m going to be gone, and things…”
In that moment, I honestly believed he was going to ask me to come with him. As he spoke, I was puzzling out the logistics of how I could follow, how I could leave Celia and Margot, for just a little while, to be with Sean. Maybe it would be fine? A tour wouldn’t last forever, and maybe if Sean and I were in Nashville, Celia and Margot would come too. I was only a split second away from nodding my head and telling him that yes, of course we would figure it out. For a breathless moment, it felt completely sane and reasonable.
But I paused. I sucked in a breath, and Sean filled the void. “Things have been great. We’ve had a lot of fun together. But it’s just been fun, right? We were never going to be serious.” He gave a facsimile of the smile I knew best, but his eyes didn’t meet mine.
Another breath; his words filled my lungs and spread throughout my body. I tried to catch his gaze, look into his eyes, but he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the tiled casita floor.
I exhaled slowly, my mind weighing his words against all his actions. The scales tipped wildly, desperately out of balance.
A dozen emotions fought to rise to the surface, but I shoved them down deep.
Something was wrong.
“I don’t believe you,” I told him simply. “I’m not a fool, and I don’t know why you’re saying these things, but I don’t believe them.”
His face remained impassive. “It’s the truth. I’m sorry it’s difficult for you.”
Those sentences were even less believable, and I hoped for his sake he had no designs on acting. “Did something happen? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing happened,” he said. “It’s just time for me to move on. Nashville is better for the band. More venues, better proximity to labels.”
My feelings began to rise to the surface. I wrapped my arms around myself to keep them tucked away for just a few moments longer. “I hope it works out for you.”
He met my eyes then, his gaze softening. “Thanks.”
“One of these days,” I said, “I hope you can tell me what’s really going on.”
Another string of denials, each more half-hearted than the next. I barely paid attention to the words. The pain would come, I knew it, but I didn’t want him here when it happened.
“I have online orders to fill,” I said, before remembering that I’d texted him with scones in the first place. “Do you want a scone for the road?”
He looked at me as if I’d just offered very nicely to slice open a vein for him. “No, no, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
And then he left.
I watched him leave, watched until his truck disappeared from view. Once he was gone, I walked straight to the kitchen and threw all of the remaining scones into the trash. Every repressed question and emotion rose in my chest, a massive tsunami of feeling that stole my breath and tore hard at my heart. I sank to the kitchen floor, a sob bursting from my lips.
The only good thing about Austin had just walked out of my life with his head held high.
22
Like most passionate nations Texas has its own history based on, but not limited by, facts.
—JOHN STEINBECK
Callum
Where are you off to? Very worried, let me know if you need anything.
Lucadia had a litter of puppies this morning. Nice litter, good-looking pups. Let me know if Dash needs a buddy.
Are you planning to be back next week? Planning a birthday party for Mariah, no stop left un-pulled.
Seems that Sean boy up and broke up with Jane and then moved to Nashville. Between you and me, I think you need to come back and give her a nice shoulder to cry on, you know?
Of all the texts I’d received from Ian, his most recent one took me off guard. Sean had left? For Nashville? I breathed deeply, but no amount of oxygen in my lungs made me want to kill him less.
I’ll be a little while longer, I texted back. Watch out for her for me.
A buzz. I’ll watch out, but I think you’d do a better job.
Somehow, I doubted that the loss of Sean would suddenly send Jane into my arms, but I had to shove those thoughts away as I pocketed my phone.
I’d be home soon enough. For now, I needed to use every ounce of knowledge I had about American bureaucracy. Knowledge, charm, and if I needed to play the wounded vet card, I would. Come hell or high water, I was getting Lila out of Mexico.
“I found her.” That was how the investigator began the conversation when he’d called that Saturday afternoon.
He’d followed the trail Lila had left since the divorce—out of Austin, out of San Antonio, and into New Orleans, where she’d gone through a string of boyfriends. A bad breakup sent her back to Austin, when she’d asked Roy for a job. Her friends were only too happy to tell Clint about how the men had taken her attention, her money, and her pride, until she’d met one who seemed to be the real deal. He had charmed them, one and all.
Lila and her charmer moved in together, and after six months went on a vacation to Cancun.
During that vacation, everything had gone wrong. They’d been mugged, lost their credit cards, phones, passports. They made it back to the hotel, where Lila’s boyfriend had enough cash to make calls and contact family members for help. Her paperwork stalled, and he told her that he set her up with the room for two weeks. He promised he’d expedite her departure once back on American soil.
He didn’t.
And as it turned out, he’d paid for just one week instead of two, and when Lila realized it, she had to make a deal with the hotel management to work in exchange for staying in a room that needed repair. She’d been making trips to the consulate on her days off, but had made little headway through the chain of bureaucracy.
Also, she was pregnant.
That’s how the investigator, Clint, had said it, toward the end. After he’d painted a scenario in which Lila had lost everything, was barely surviving.
She’d been able to use the hotel computer, usually reserved for guests checking their travel itineraries, to e-mail the man who’d left her behind. He’d e-mailed back that he couldn’t help and then disappeared.
The few relatives she had tried to get help from had flaked on her, and she’d been too ashamed to contact me.
When I hired Clint, I told him to do whatever it took to find her. So he’d flown to Mexico, gone to the hotel, and asked around until he found her in an ill-fitting uniform, inventorying cleaning supplies. By the time he called me, he’d set her up at a new hotel, made sure she had whatever she needed. And unlike the man who’d brought her in the first place, he didn’t leave.
I took the first flight to Cancun and felt my whole body exhale when I finally saw her. She looked older; we both did. On the way, I’d wondered if maybe I was still in love with her, the way I’d been when we were young.
As she hugged me tight, crying, she thanked me for sending Clint to find her.
I hugged her back. “You’re family,” I told her. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you sooner.”
And that was it, I realized. She was family. I was desperately glad to see her, but I didn’t feel the same electric pull toward her that I felt about…
About Jane. There was no denying it, not anymore. I was in love with Jane.
Jane, who’d been in love with Sean Willis, the very man who’d abandoned my sister-in-law in Mexico, pregnant and alone.
Later, Clint and I walked around the corner to a bar recommended by the hotel’s front desk. The PI was younger than I’d anticipated. Over the phone, his weariness had read as age. In person, he appeared to be only a few years older than myself, though his eyes had the same haunted
looked I’d seen in soldiers who’d seen too many years of combat.
“I can’t thank you enough,” I told him once we’d settled at the bar and ordered drinks; the least I could do was to buy the man a beer. “Not just for finding her, but taking care of her afterwards. Please, tell me what I owe you.”
Clint took a swig of his drink. “The flights, the hotel, I’ll give you receipts. The rest? Don’t worry about it.”
“Look, man, I don’t want to put you out. Lila told me about how you brought her hot meals and fresh clothes.”
He shook his head, taking his time before responding. “It’s not a happy business, what I do. It needs doing, most of the time, and it pays the bills. But I don’t get to help people, really help them. I get to tell them that their partners are cheating, that their friends are stealing from them, that their birth parent died of a drug overdose ten years ago. I don’t get to be a hero, is what I’m saying, and for the last week I’ve gotten to do that.” He lifted a hand. “I’m good. I bought a nice lady food and clothes. I don’t need to be reimbursed for it.”
I nodded. “You’re a good man, Clint.”
“Nah. Not really. She’s had a lot of tough breaks.”
“You read up on my brother?”
Clint cocked an eyebrow. “Were you and he close?”
“No,” I said. “Lila didn’t deserve what he did to her. Those years took their toll. She doesn’t have a lot of people left.”
“She’s gonna need a lot of friends around her.”
Clint’s tone was protective, challenging. I studied his expressionless face, wondering. Did he—did he have feelings for her? Nina would have thought so, if she were here. But then Nina detected romance in the unlikeliest of conditions.
“I’m going to make sure she’s taken care of. My brother, the divorce decree—I wasn’t around to do anything about it. I regret that.”
“If a guy wants to be a dirtbag that much,” Clint said, “he generally won’t listen to anyone else. He doesn’t strike me as being the listening kind.”
“He wasn’t,” I answered simply. “I just wish I’d been around.”
Jane of Austin Page 18
