Josie laughed out loud. “Well, as fun as that idea sounds…”
“You’re just jealous of my shiny head. Admit it.”
“It does have a fabulous glow. And a lovely shape.”
“My ears look big.”
“Only when you frown like that.”
“Wrong. They’re even bigger when I smile.”
Josie leaned down to hug her. “You have the best smile in the universe, Avery. When you smile, no one’s looking at your ears, I promise.” She looked up at Jeff, eyebrows raised in silent question. He nodded carefully as he pushed the wheelchair toward her so she could grab the handles and roll Avery out to the curb. “So are you ready to keep me company at Camp Ho-Ho?”
“Your dad wouldn’t like it if he heard you call it that.”
“That’s why I do it.” Josie lifted Avery into the passenger seat of Ethan’s truck and buckled her in, trying not to think about how much lighter she was than the last time she’d lifted her. “It’s a daughter’s job to annoy her parents.”
“You’re seventeen. Shouldn’t you be growing out of this phase?”
Josie laughed. “You’re eight. Should you really be this smart?”
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Josie sat in the waiting room chair, elbows braced on her knees, while Mom went back in to see Dad, since the tiny cafeteria had closed. She couldn’t believe she had fainted. She nibbled on one of the crackers Mom had pushed into her hand. When was the last time she’d eaten, anyway?
She looked up at the shaded windows and could see shapes bustling around. Who was that little girl in there? She looked around the room, trying to match her with a family, but the only people in here were the teens from last time and an elderly mother and her daughter.
The poor child had looked just like Avery—her shiny head with its blue veins, her eye sockets too dark, her tiny body too small under the blanket. Josie bit her lip, too late realizing she had started rocking slightly in her chair. Suddenly the waiting room walls seemed to be caving in on her.
It felt childish to wish for shiny red shoes she could clack together and be back in her cozy apartment with her calm, predictable job and a date every few months … or six. Dammit, this place was cursed. Everywhere she turned was another heartbreak from the past. If Ethan wasn’t looming over her, piercing her with his smoky eyes and taunting her with his bronzed skin and the after-shave she still loved, then Avery was poking her sweet little head into Josie’s psyche at random moments.
She took a deep breath, trying to slow down her jiggling legs. But it was no use. She had to get out of here. She scrawled a note for Mom and took off at a fast walk down the hallway. As the elevator descended, Josie practiced the kind of breathing she taught her patients. Her heart was racing, which made the elevator seem interminably slower than it really was.
She just needed to get out of the hospital, find her Jeep, and drive. She didn’t even know where she’d go. Visions of Avery kept flashing through her mind like a photo album on high speed, and as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t shut it down.
Finally the automated voice said First floor and the elevator bumped slightly as it landed. Josie stumbled through the sliding front doors and did everything in her power not to run to her Jeep.
Maybe her parents had mended their ways, but nothing else had changed here. At least not for the better.
Echo Lake was still poison.
Ethan was still poison.
And Avery? She stifled a sob.
Avery was still … dead.
Chapter 15
“You’ll have to talk quickly. I’m packing.” Josie pulled open one of her bureau drawers as she answered Kirsten’s call an hour later.
“Where are you going?”
“Boston. Home.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing! Everything! I don’t know!” Josie winced at the frazzled sound of her voice.
“I see.”
Silence followed Kirsten’s words, and Josie tried to wait her out, but failed. “Oh, stop using that therapist-silence technique on me. I know how it works.”
“Why are you packing, Jos? What happened?”
“Everything! Everything’s happening! Dad, Mom, Ethan. I tried, Kirsten. I came back here. I did the hospital, I did the park, I—”
“Did Ethan?”
“What?” Josie sputtered. “Oh my God. I’m being serious here!”
“Me, too. Did you?”
“No!”
“Did you want to?”
Josie looked in the mirror over her bureau, surprised at the dark pink spots of color on her cheeks, the redness of her throat and chest. Dammit, look at her. It was hopeless. If she stayed here, she’d certainly fall back under Ethan’s spell, and she’d only get her heart broken.
Yes, he’d kissed her, and oh God, it had been as good as ever—better, even—but it could never work. They had separate lives. His was firmly hitched to Camp Ho-Ho’s wagon, and hers never would be again. Ever. She knew the end play on that game already.
“No. Yes. No. Of course I do! It’s Ethan! But it would never work. No more than it would have ten years ago.”
“How can you know that for sure? You haven’t been home in a long time.”
“No. The situation’s pretty clear. And it’s no good. He has willingly signed up for my father’s life. He lives and breathes this stupid park, and I’ve seen how that story ends. This place eats people alive. There’s no room for relationships when you’ve got a Christmas paradise to maintain three hundred and sixty-five days a year.”
No. She couldn’t even fathom staying here, no matter how hot the air got when they were in the same room. No matter how looking at his sculpted body made her ache to be swatting mosquitoes in the back of a beat-up Chevy truck out by the lake. No matter how feeling his lips on her skin made her want to strip off every bit of clothing she owned and submit to his mouth and hands and …
She turned away from the mirror, swearing. She had to go. Now.
“How are you going to feel being that far away from your parents?”
“I’ve been that far away for ten years now, and it was working just fine.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know. I’ll only be three hours away. Dad’s—stable. Mom can call if anything changes. I’ll visit on weekends. I just have to get out of here.” Josie hated herself for even having these thoughts, given that in reality, Dad was far from stable. She pulled the knobs on the Venetian doors of the closet and reached up to pull her suitcase down.
Before she got it to the edge of the shelf, a big shoebox peeked over the edge of it, sliding toward her at a dangerous angle. She grabbed at the box before it could clonk her on the nose, juggling the phone clumsily.
“Josie? Jos? Hey!” Kirsten’s voice squawked. “Are you okay?”
Josie fumbled the phone toward her ear as she set the Nike box on her bed. “Sorry! Almost dropped you. You are never going to believe what my mother did.”
“Do tell.”
“I have a feeling she knew I might try to pull a runner in the night.”
“What’d she do? Lock you in your bedroom?” Kirsten laughed, but cautiously.
With her index finger, Josie traced the letters she’d taped on the box lid oh so long ago. “Worse. She put my old shoebox of Ethan’s stuff on top of my suitcase.”
* * *
“Wow.” Molly leaned over the Bellinis counter and put her index finger under Ethan’s chin. “It’s ten o’clock. You look like hell, Ethan.”
“Thanks. You’re sweet.” Ethan hauled himself onto a barstool to wait for his to-go order. He’d only managed three bites of his earlier dinner before Steph had called, and his stomach had been growling for two hours now.
“You want a drink while you wait?”
“Better not, or I’ll fall asleep on your bar.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” She raised her eyebrows as she poured him a Coke. “How’s Emmy?”
&nb
sp; “Josh’s pretty sure it’s just viral, but the poor little thing doesn’t have anything extra to fight with.”
“I called in extra bodies tonight to disinfect all of the common areas.”
“Got masks on everyone?”
“Yup. I don’t know where you found those crazy things. The purple leopard-print ones went the fastest.”
“I knew the kids would love those.”
Molly laughed. “Actually, the moms picked those.”
“Thanks for taking care of things over there. As always.”
“Well, it’s my job, right?” Her smile was forced. “Always the dependable one.” She pushed through the kitchen door a little harder than necessary, but he still heard the words she muttered under her breath. “The one who didn’t leave.”
Before he could decide whether to admit he’d heard her, she strode back through the swinging doors with his to-go bag. “So how’s Princess Josie today?”
Soft. Sweet. Hot. “Fine.” He cleared his throat unintentionally, and Molly’s eyes narrowed.
“What kind of fine?”
“How many kinds of fine are there?”
Shit.
Molly paused dramatically while pretending to scrub a spot on the bar with her rag. “Don’t do it, Ethan. Do not let her back in.”
“G’nite, Mols.” He grabbed the bag. “And g’nite, Mama B! Thanks for the tiramisu!” He knew Mama was hovering just inside the kitchen door, as curious for news about Josie as Molly was.
“Oh! Ethan!” Mama walked through the door like she’d been coming out anyway. Right. “You’re still here. I put in an extra slice for your dad. On the house.”
“Thanks, Mama. I’ll see you two ladies tomorrow.” Ethan gave a quick wave and strode out the door before either of them could fire another question his way.
As he pulled his truck door closed and put the key in the ignition, he swore silently. Molly’s caution was well intentioned, he knew. She’d seen him through the months after Josie’s departure, had watched him nurse more than one ginormous hangover in those early weeks, had pushed him to start living again once it became clear Josie wasn’t coming back. He knew he owed her big for that.
But it really didn’t matter, because he’d gone all cave man on Josie just hours ago, and there’s no way she’d risk that happening again. No, she was probably well on her way back to Boston right now, so Molly could relax. No warnings needed. Josie was definitely already gone.
And he’d be damned if he could figure out how he felt about that.
* * *
Josie repositioned her pillows so she could sit comfortably against the headboard, still holding the box after she said good-bye to Kirsten. Did she really dare open it? After what had transpired earlier this evening, was it remotely wise to crack open a supersaturated container of sweetness?
Before she could talk herself out of it, she flipped off the lid and laid it on the bed. As soon as she did, a faint scent tripped her right to senior prom and special dates and nights at the lake.
And this afternoon, dammit.
Ethan’s after-shave. She plucked out five little sample packets she’d scored at a Burlington mall makeup counter long ago. She couldn’t believe they still held any of their scent, but as she waved one under her nose, she was eighteen again.
Of course, it had been only hours ago that she’d smelled that same after-shave, heated by Ethan’s skin, desperately close to her own body. She laid the packets down and looked into the box again. On top was a pile of cards held together in a rubber band. She smiled as she remembered opening her mailbox to find the colorful envelopes.
One of the things she’d so loved about Ethan back then was his old-fashioned romanticism. He always opened doors for her, pulled out her chair when they ate at a nice restaurant, and sometimes—to her amusement at the time—sent her real letters.
Though she’d also loved his sexy e-mails and texts, there was nothing like holding a letter to her chest when the walls were crashing in around her. Nothing like putting it to her nose and letting his scent cleanse the other ones assaulting her. Nothing like running her fingertips over his words, smiling at his stick-figure drawings when there was nothing else to smile about.
Josie opened the first card and lifted it to her nose, hardly believing she was doing so. But among the sweetly sexy words, the tiniest bit of Ethan’s scent remained. Or was it just her imagination? She opened each card in the pile, remembered sitting on this same bed reading them until the edges were worn.
As she read, her resolve to be on the road at first light started slipping dangerously away. With each letter, each card, her heart sped up. She put her hand to her mouth as she read words she’d seen a hundred times, words that had buoyed her through hell. Words that were so painfully beautiful, so innocent and pure, so damn sexy.
God, he’d loved her. She’d known that, right?
Under the cards was a pile of pictures she’d printed long ago. She flipped through them—she and Ethan at Homecoming, she and Ethan at Halloween, at Christmas, at New Year’s, at Valentine’s Day, at Spring Fling, at prom. It was like a calendar of her senior year chronicled in snapshots.
In each and every one of them, Ethan was touching her. Sometimes his arm was slung over her shoulder, sometimes they were holding hands, sometimes he stood behind her, arms clasped around her with his chin on her shoulder and an impish grin on his face.
At the bottom of the pile was her favorite picture of the two of them. Ethan’s brother David had offered to take engagement pictures for them because he was trying out a new camera, so they’d headed out to the lake to get some shots. They’d posed for what seemed like hours, until the sun went down, and a week later when David had brought a pile of prints for Josie to look over, he’d saved one till last.
In the picture, Josie and Ethan perched on a low branch facing the lake. They’d thought David was done taking his pictures, so they were relaxed, just watching the sun set over the water. In the shot, Josie was looking toward the water, but Ethan wasn’t. He’d leaned back against the tree trunk and was gazing straight at Josie, his hand reaching for a wisp of her hair glistening in the shadowed sunset.
Josie felt a tear roll off the tip of her nose as she looked at the picture. She could almost feel the tree branch beneath her, hear the gentle lapping of the waves near their feet, smell the flowers that grew near the shore of the cove. When the ceiling fan above her lifted a strand of hair, she could almost swear she could feel Ethan’s fingers touching her.
As she pulled a dried corsage from the box, she remembered dancing with him at prom, out on a party boat on the glistening lake. The moon had been full, the night breezy and warm.
* * *
“You look like a mermaid in this dress, Jos. It matches your eyes.” Tucked against the wheelhouse up on deck, they kissed as Ethan’s hands slid over the fabric, sending shivers up and down her body.
“Maybe that’s why I picked it. You know what they say about mermaids.”
“That they lure men to danger, only to dispose of them?”
“That’s a little harsh.”
He pulled her against his body, hands moving lower as he kissed her neck. “You’ve got the luring part covered. No doubt about that.”
“You’re not worried about the disposing part?” She smiled against his lips.
He found the bottom edge of her dress and slid his hands under it and slowly up her thighs, making her gasp in the moonlight as she pressed closer to his body.
“I’m not worried, mermaid-girl. I think you’ll be with me forever.”
* * *
Two hours later, her cell phone blipped on the nightstand, startling her as she paged through her senior yearbook. She picked it up to see the readout. Mom. She glanced at the bedside clock, which read midnight. Oh no.
“Mom? What’s wrong?”
Mom paused on the other end. “Nothing, actually. I … I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t realize how late it was. I’m
just leaving the hospital. Thought I’d let you know.”
“Um, okay. You sure you’re all right?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“You sound kind of weird.” Josie’s internal alarm bells started ringing. “Are you sure you should drive? Have you … had something to drink?”
“No, honey, I haven’t had anything to drink in a really long time. I’m just emotional, that’s all. I was sitting there alone in the waiting room, and I suddenly realized I … well … maybe I’m not actually alone. You were at home, and I could call you. So I did.” She paused again. “I’m sorry. That sounds stupid. And you were probably getting ready to sleep. I’m sorry.”
Josie felt the twinge of tears at the backs of her eyes. Dammit. “It’s not stupid, Mom. I wasn’t asleep.” She traced the lines on her quilt. “Drive safely, okay? I’ll have some tea ready when you get here, if you want.”
“That would be just … perfect. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Josie could hear Mom’s smile.
She took a deep, shaky breath. Hours ago, she’d been convinced her only pathway was straight back to Boston. As much as she wanted to resist falling under Ethan’s spell again, she’d only lasted five days before melting into his body, and that was going to get them nowhere but Heartbreak Village. Again. How could she keep her heart steeled if she stayed here any longer?
But what about Mom? How could she leave, when things were still so touch-and-go with Dad? Again, it’d only been five days, but Mom was … different. Real.
Sober.
And as much as she’d learned long ago not to trust that Mom would stay that way, a growing part of her wanted desperately to believe that maybe this time, maybe now, Mom wasn’t going to crack the Stoli and disappear into her own hellish nightmare again.
Maybe, just maybe, they could get to know each other again.
She looked around the bed, strewn with mementos of her teenage romance, and slowly gathered each card and letter and dried flower. She put them each carefully in the box, then replaced the lid. She tried repeating a mantra of that-was-then-this-is-now, but it died on her lips.
She’d spent ten years convincing herself that she didn’t belong here anymore, that her life was destined for greater things. That the people here were people she didn’t need in her life.
Forever This Time Page 11
