And his luck was holding! The front door opened almost as soon as Jason lowered his window and cut the engine. A woman emerged—tall, short dark hair—then twirled and faced inside.
“Jack,” she called, “it’s a gorgeous night! Want to take a walk after we put out the trash?”
The woman was familiar, but she wasn’t Valerie. And Jack? Where was Matt? Jason craned his neck to check the street sign. What the heck was going on?
A big man joined the woman on the front porch and closed the door behind him. He dipped his head, kissed her on the mouth. Said something too low for Jason to hear, but the woman giggled. She lifted her head, and in the moonlight, Jason recognized the beautiful smile of Rachel Goodman.
In Matt’s house? And what was she doing in Pilgrim Cove? The last time Jason had seen her was on a Mississippi gambling boat a couple of years after they’d both left town. A lifetime ago. He idly wondered if she’d kept their promise not to tell anyone about that accidental meeting.
He watched for a few moments more, and when the couple walked up their driveway toward the garage, he turned his key and drove quietly away.
On automatic pilot, he headed west toward his parents’ house. They lived in an older residential neighborhood toward the center of the peninsula. The third house on Poseidon Street off the corner of Sloop. A Lexus 400 stood in the driveway, and Jason jammed on his brakes.
Impossible! Unless they’d won the lottery. But even if they had won—the car didn’t match his practical, down-to-earth dad. A man who’d known how to run a business, manage income and expenses and provide for his family. They’d had luxuries in moderation—a vacation to Disney World, tickets to the Boston Symphony and the Boston Pops—although in their family, those tickets weren’t luxuries; they were necessities. A house of musicians needed to hear music.
Jason shook his head as memories rolled through his mind one after the other. He’d had a damn good childhood in Pilgrim Cove until that May night nine years ago. And now this. This Lexus in his dad’s driveway. What was that all about?
He drove past the house, made a U-turn in the next intersection and drove slowly back again. Trash cans stood at the curb at some of the other homes. Seemed like Pilgrim Cove had a trash pickup in the morning. If he were lucky, his folks would remember to put theirs out soon.
It took five minutes before the garage door lifted. A man, much younger than his dad, emerged wheeling his trash to the curb.
“Dad-dy,” came a high voice through the clear night air, “reading time…”
The man turned toward the house. “Be right there, sweetheart.”
Who were these people in his parents’ home? Which seemed not to be his parents’ home anymore. A knot grew in Jason’s stomach. Where was everyone? Had his whole family moved away? Away from Pilgrim Cove?
HE STARTED THE CAR and headed for Main Street. Parker Plumbing and Hardware would provide the answer. People could move around more easily than businesses. Coming from the west, he passed Quinn Real Estate and Property Management, then the Diner on the Dunes, the bank and after Conch Street on his left…should be…should be…and it was. Parker Plumbing and Hardware, just as he remembered.
Jason sagged with relief. Man, he’d really been stressed. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve wishing he had a towel. And for the third time in the last half hour, he found a shadowed parking spot, lowered his window and shut the car’s engine.
He glanced at his watch. Nine o’clock, and the lights inside the store were still on. A pickup truck and a passenger car were the only vehicles in the lot. A young couple appeared with a box and a bag of something, got into the car and drove off. Last customers of the evening.
“Come on, Matt,” Jason whispered, hands clenched on the wheel. “Let me see you.” Minutes passed, long, long minutes when Jason realized his brother still had to ring out the registers, check the building, set the alarm and follow whatever routines he normally did at the end of the day. He also realized that Parker Plumbing was the only store on the block open late that night. Spring was the start of their busiest season, and Jason wasn’t surprised Matt kept the store open.
He waited until finally, one by one, the lights inside went out and only a single fixture remained shining in the entrance area. Matt Parker was clearly visible as he opened the door, and Jason felt a big grin cross his face.
Matt looked great. Jason barely blinked as he stared at his brother. In the quiet of the night, he could hear Matt singing softly as he searched for the correct key on his big key ring. Beautiful voice, but…“Home on the Range”? Jason almost shouted with laughter.
Jason watched as his brother turned his back toward the street in order to lock the door. Then, without warning, Matt stopped midnote. He cocked his head and froze in place, not moving a muscle. He stood as still as the breath Jason now held. Nothing moved outside, not a branch, not a leaf. No people, no cars. Then another song came from Matt’s mouth:
“In my dreams I am running there,
With my brothers to the water’s edge.”
His big brother knew he was out here. Could he have seen Jason reflected in the window? Or was their intuitive ESP working again? Although Matt hadn’t turned around, nor had he called Jason’s name, he had changed the lyric by making “brother” plural. A simple error? A rebuke for focusing only on Jared? Or a reminder that there were still two living siblings?
Maybe one day, he’d ask. But not now. Jason started the car and saw Matt stiffen, then rattle his key in the door. They’d communicated well.
A vehicle turned onto Main Street, came toward them, then turned into the store’s lot. An American sedan. A woman emerged. Young. Wavy light hair, nice figure.
“Thanks, Sam. We’ll be home in a little while.” She closed the door and walked right into Matt’s open arms. Their kiss could have ignited the town.
What the hell was going on now? That woman was certainly not Matt’s wife.
Jason pulled out of his spot. When the car straightened out, he glanced into the rearview mirror. His brother’s gaze followed him as he drove away.
THE MORNING SUN STABBED his eyelids, and Jason winced. His own fault for not drawing the curtain the night before. Man, he was tired. After all the surprises last night, he hadn’t been able to sleep. Instead, he’d driven around searching for some upscale club where he could commandeer a piano. He’d gotten lucky some thirty miles out of Pilgrim Cove. By the end of the night, he’d had enough money in the tip jar for the manager’s daughter to have piano lessons for a few months. He chuckled remembering the expression on the guy’s face when Jason gave him the cash. Returning his earnings was the least he could do. The instrument had been well tuned recently, something Jason had learned to appreciate over the years when he’d worked a different lounge every night or two.
Of course, the nightclubs had almost killed him. The liquor had flowed—his glass was always full, watered down by the bartenders so he’d be able to continue into the wee hours. And he had. The owners had recognized a good piano man. So had the customers. But no one understood that he was playing because Jared couldn’t. That he couldn’t stay in one place too long. That he had to keep moving. Running. Until he finally learned that he couldn’t outrun his memories. Not even with Jack Daniel’s to keep him company. But that lesson had come later.
He yawned, rolled over for another moment, then headed for the shower. A half hour later, feeling more human, he drove to a florist shop and went inside. So many choices—bright bouquets, wreaths, simple flowers and green plants. Too many choices. A wreath would be the easiest and appropriate, but…he wanted something special for Jared. Nine years was a long time between visits.
And then he spotted the selection of roses behind the glass doors of a temperature-controlled cabinet. “Nine yellow ones,” he said to the proprietor. “In a box, please. No wrappings.”
Yellow for loyalty. Perfect. How could an identical twin be anything else? He handed over his credit card a
nd in five minutes, walked out the door.
When he arrived at the cemetery’s parklike grounds, he slowed to a crawl, trying to get his bearings. His memory fogged when he tried to recall his last visit, the day of Jared’s funeral, the worst day of his life. Or was the accident the worst day? Or maybe the worst had been a month later, the day before he’d left Pilgrim Cove. He squeezed his eyes tight for a moment and wiped the scene with his mother out of his mind. Hopefully, he’d make peace with her later. Now, only Jared was important.
New Hope Cemetery covered a lot of ground. He turned into the driveway of the administration building to get directions. No point in wasting time.
It took ten minutes to get the information and drive slowly down the narrow paths to the correct area. On this beautiful weekday morning, he wasn’t alone in the park. He’d passed a woman planting flowers, and an old man sitting on a stone bench drinking a cup of coffee. Peaceful scenes. A vehicle stood near the section he was looking for, but Jason barely gave it a glance as he climbed out of his car, now intent on identifying Jared’s grave. He saw the headstone and made a beeline for it…and spotted a second headstone. And next to that…a third.
He took a step closer. Then blinked quickly, shook his head in denial. He couldn’t absorb it. Margaret Parker. His mother. His eyes burned as he forced himself to read. Two years after Jared.
“No!” The roses dropped to the ground.
He’d imagined a thousand variations of his reunion with his mother—what he’d say, what she’d say—a thousand different dialogues, but never once had he imagined this.
“Her last words were ‘Tell Jason I’m sorry. I was wrong. And I still love him and miss him so much.’”
The voice came from behind him, a deep familiar voice, but sounding a bit raspy now. “I’m glad I can finally deliver the message.”
Jason stiffened for a moment. Then he turned around.
“Dad?”
Sam Parker held out a trembling hand. “And I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have made excuses for her.” He paused and stared at Jason. “Welcome home, son.” And somehow the handshake became a hug.
“I pictured everything the same… I thought nothing would change.”
“More snow on the mountaintop,” replied Sam, pointing to his head.
Jason chuckled and felt himself begin to relax. His dad looked great. “I’m an idiot,” he said. “How can anything stay the same after all this time, even in Pilgrim Cove?” He bent down to retrieve the flowers.
“I’ll wait in the car,” said Sam, nodding at a green van. “You do what you intended when you arrived.”
Jason nodded. As he straightened, his glance fell on the third stone. Suddenly, he couldn’t swallow. “What happened to Valerie?” he whispered, gazing at his sister-in-law’s grave. “Poor Matt. Poor Brian.”
“And poor Casey,” offered Sam. “That’s when he started to stutter.”
Jason held up his hand. Casey? “What happened?” he asked again.
“Cancer,” said Sam. “Both Mom and Valerie. Different types, but in the end, it didn’t matter. We lost them.” His eyes focused first on one, then on the other grave. “Hard years,” he muttered. “Very hard years.”
Guilt pierced Jason. He’d caused his share of pain merely by being absent. One less pair of shoulders to lean on; one less person to share with. “I’m so sorry, Dad.” Such mundane words, but he couldn’t think of any others.
“I know, Jason. I know,” Sam said. “You have a good heart. Always did. But loving hearts can get bruised mighty bad sometimes. And that’s what happened when Mom lashed out at you. She was in such pain herself, she didn’t know what she was saying. Jared’s death was not your fault, Jason. She knew it, and I know it.”
“I had to hit bottom to figure it out,” Jason said, as he stepped away to lay three roses on Valerie’s grave. Then three roses on his mother’s. Until finally, he knelt near his brother’s and carefully placed his yellow roses in front of the stone.
“I need to talk to Jared,” he said without looking up at his father.
“Take all the time you want. I’ll be at the car.”
Jason nodded, then heard Sam step away.
“I’m here, Jared,” he began, “and as long as I’m alive, you’re alive. We’re J.J. Parks. We make some mighty nice music. You’re in my head every time I’m at the keyboard… I hear you harmonizing with me….”
SAM PARKER LEANED against the side of his SUV, listening to his son’s memories and stories of the last nine years.
“I left town with five hundred dollars that I’d withdrawn from the bank. I hitched rides on the interstates. But where the hell was I going? I had no idea. One night, I’m in a bar in Hannibal, Missouri. I pay for my booze, finish it and go outside…and get my ass kicked. I woke up lying in the gutter. Wallet gone. That was about ten days after I’d left town…. God, I was so green. Living in Pilgrim Cove doesn’t prepare you for life on the streets.”
Jason was quiet for a minute, and Sam almost called to him. But then more words spilled out.
“I actually went to a homeless shelter. I needed a shower. Bad. And I needed a job. So I washed dishes on the riverboats…gambling boats. Me and Huck Finn, huh? But you know what? I liked it. People kept coming and going. I was simply a faceless worker, and that suited me just fine back then. Mind-numbing work. And God knew, I didn’t want to think!
“And that’s how my life began away from home. You can see I survived,” said Jason. “But the loneliness…that’s what got to me. That’s when I started writing…and drinking. And didn’t want to stop either of them.”
Sam examined Jason closely. The boy looked good. Eyes clear. Muscles tight, no puffiness. Skin unblemished. He tuned in again to Jason’s ramblings.
“I just kept thinking about you, and Ma and… Lila… It always came back to her…and the pain would be so bad…and I’d go to the piano and compose, trying to make sense of it all.”
Sam’s breath caught. He loved his son, but Jason had forfeited his claim to Lila years ago. She deserved her newfound happiness with Adam Fielding, and Sam was not going to allow Jason to make trouble there. Not even for Katie’s sake.
Katie. His heart pounded at the thought of his beautiful granddaughter. Jason’s daughter.
He eyed his boy. Jason would have been a great dad had life been normal. But life hadn’t been. And now Katie was thrilled at her mom’s upcoming marriage. Thrilled with becoming her best friend Sara’s sister.
Sam curled his hands into fists. Jason had made choices. So had Lila. Everyone’s life was running smoothly now, and he would not interfere. How and when Jason learned about Katie would be totally up to Lila. Sam could do that much for his granddaughter’s lovely and loving mother.
CHAPTER THREE
LILA RACED DOWN THE HALL toward her grandfather’s office. Calls for summer rentals had been nonstop all day. Jane Fisher, their secretary cum office manager, had taken a dozen messages in the last hour while Lila had been out of the office with a client. It was already three o’clock, and both she and Bart had work to do. A lot of work. Thank goodness.
She heard the music before she reached Bart’s door. “Must you play that bloody song?”
Her words accompanied her across the threshold, but she regretted them when she saw her granddad’s shocked expression. When his shock changed to determination, however, she knew she had to hold her ground. Although she loved Granddad dearly, she knew he was not easily thwarted when acting “for her own good.”
“I thought you liked Luis Torres,” said Bart, leaning back in his chair, his expression changing to one of pure innocence. “You’ve got his other CDs in your collection.”
She walked to his desk. “Granddad, this is not about Luis Torres, and you know it.”
She didn’t like the gleam in his eye or the smile that inched across his face. “Bull’s eye!” he said, sitting upright again. “I’m glad you brought this up, lass, because it’s awfully hard to tipto
e around here when you’ve got feet the size of mine.”
He could always make her laugh, but she didn’t want to laugh now. “We’re talking about Jason Parker,” she said, running the two names together as fast as she could.
Her grandfather nodded. “Sam called me a little while ago.” His voice trailed off.
Lila’s legs trembled, and pinpoints of sweat dotted her arms. She said nothing, but walked to the chair in front of Bart’s desk and sat down. If Sam Parker had called Bart, then Jason was really involved in that song. Her wishful thinking had been in vain, but at least she’d been warned.
She took a deep breath and met Bart’s pointed gaze. “I’m listening.”
“Jason’s here in Pilgrim Cove,” Bart said quietly. Then he paused, one eyebrow raised as though waiting for permission to continue. Giving her time to adjust.
She lifted her chin. “A little late, wouldn’t you say?”
Bart sighed. “He’s in shock himself, Lila. Didn’t know about his mom or Valerie…and still doesn’t know about Katie.”
She collapsed against the chair, relief turning her muscles to rubber bands. But she did wince as she pictured his reaction to the losses in his family. A moment later, she rallied. “The shock is his own fault, you know. He could have kept in touch…called….”
Bart nodded. “Well, you can ask him about all that…”
“Not I,” said Lila, shaking her head. “Not interested. Like Mom said, ‘I’m finally moving on with my life.’” She glanced at the ring she wore on her fourth finger, and heard her grandfather sigh.
“And what about Katie?” he asked.
“What about her?” she retorted. “I work hard so I can support her without anyone’s help. I don’t need Jason’s money. And besides, how long will he stay? Two days? Three? No,” she said, conviction in her voice. “Katie doesn’t need that. She’s crazy about Adam, chatting about how she’s going to have a real daddy, not merely uncles and grandpas.”
The Daughter He Never Knew Page 3
