Act of Contrition

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Act of Contrition Page 20

by Linda Rettstatt


  “What if he follows you this time?”

  “He won’t.” She took a sip of her coffee. “This time I’ll say goodbye.”

  ****

  Jenny arrived at the cemetery shortly after the funeral procession and remained behind those gathered to bid farewell to Mike Doyle. She glimpsed Patrick’s face as he stared at his father’s casket while the priest said prayers and sprinkled holy water. He glanced up and met her gaze. The pain on his face made her chest tighten.

  After the final commendation, the priest, on behalf of the family, invited everyone back to the parish hall for lunch. Jenny turned and headed to her car. She couldn’t be there another second. She certainly couldn’t watch them lower the casket into the ground and be reminded of where Cooper now rested.

  She had made decisions in her life that had hurt other people, changed their lives forever—Matt, Cooper, and Patrick. If she stayed in Miley’s Cove much longer, she would risk repeating the mistake with Patrick all over again. She owed each of them recompense. If Gavin wouldn’t issue her a suitable penance for her sins against the people who had loved her, then she would exact her own punishment and seek her own absolution. She would deny herself a second chance with Patrick. Cooper didn’t get a second chance, and she didn’t deserve one, either. She needed a clean break from the past.

  The following morning, Jenny pulled her suitcases from the closet and laid them open on the bed. The phone rang and she let it go to voicemail. Then her cell phone rang, and she glanced at the screen. Patrick. She let that go to voicemail as well.

  Once the packed luggage stood by the door, she sat down and sipped a large mug of coffee. The timing may not be the best, but leaving was for the best. That much, she knew. To others, it would seem her taking the job in Los Angeles was an opportunity. Only she knew the truth.

  Tires crunched in the driveway. Patrick’s silhouette passed the window and his feet sounded on the front porch. “Jenny?” he called as he knocked.

  With no avenue of escape, she opened the door.

  “I looked for you after the funeral. You didn’t come back to the hall, and you didn’t answer your phone last night or this morning.”

  “I couldn’t. Come in.” She returned to the chair she had occupied. “Sit down. We have to talk.”

  He continued to stand. “I can talk from here.” His gaze drifted over the luggage. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m leaving.” She set the mug on the coffee table. “I wasn’t going to leave without saying goodbye.”

  He walked to the bay window and stood with his back to her, one hand raking through his hair. “Can’t this wait for a few days at least?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He whirled at her. “We’re back to that now? Being sorry? Jenny, we need to talk about this.”

  “I’ve already made up my mind. This is best for both of us.”

  “Really? When did we decide? I don’t recall having that discussion.”

  “Will you please sit down?”

  “Christ, Jen, I just buried my father. And now you’re walking away, too?”

  “I’m not walking away. Okay, I am, but what’s happened between us should not have happened. That day on the island…”

  “But it did and, as I recall, you were as into it as I was.”

  Her face flared. “I can’t be the person you need me to be.”

  “You have no idea what I need. Hell, I don’t even know what I need. But I sure as hell know what I don’t need. I don’t need to be jerked around by someone who wants to be a damned martyr. Do you ever listen to yourself? What are you going to do, Jenny? Are you going to lock yourself away and deny yourself the basic pleasures in life? You think that’ll change anything? Maybe you should join a cloister and sleep on the bare floor and walk around in silence, shrouded in black. Would that make you feel worthy and whole again?”

  Tears stung her eyes. The volume of his anger betrayed the depth of his pain. “You have every right to be mad.”

  “Damned right I do,” he shouted. He closed his eyes and drew in a breath. “Jenny, you can’t keep running away.”

  “I’m not running away.”

  He gestured to the suitcases. “Then what do you call this?”

  “I’m getting on with my life. And I want you to do the same. We had our chance and we missed it. We can’t go back.”

  He paused, hands spread at his hips. “We can go forward.”

  “Yes, we can, but not together. I was going to stop on my way out of town to say goodbye, but I’ll say it now.”

  “And what about Kari? She talks about you all the time? You won’t bother to say goodbye to her?”

  “I said goodbye to Kari the other day. I told her I had to go away for my work.” She didn’t tell him the child had said, “Just like my mama?” That had nearly done Jenny in, but she found a way to explain that she was a friend, and sometimes friends have to leave and live somewhere else.

  Patrick turned his face away from her. “Where are you going?”

  “Back to Boston, then… I’m not sure. It’s not decided yet.” She wouldn’t tell him about L.A., and then he wouldn’t be able to follow in the event he ended up in California.

  He nodded. “Will you let me know where you settle?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea. We can’t just be friends, and I can’t be more than that for you. You need to create a stable life for Kari. She deserves that.”

  “So, this is it?”

  She steeled herself against the flood of emotions that rose in her and nodded. “Goodbye, Patrick. I hope you find the woman who deserves you. And when you do, I hope she knows how lucky she is.”

  His eyes swept over hers before he turned and walked out the door. A minute later, tires spun and spit gravel as he gunned the truck out of the driveway.

  She managed to hold back tears while she dragged the suitcases to the Forester and hefted them into the trunk. She checked the cottage door one last time, then walked to the water’s edge and gazed out at the island. Folding her arms in front of her, she doubled over and let the grief flow.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  It was rush hour when Jenny reached the outskirts of Boston. She pulled into a convenience store. When she turned on her cell phone, she found two missed calls from Ashley. She pressed the ‘call’ button.

  “Where are you?” Ashley asked. “I’ve been worried. Patrick called me, and then I couldn’t reach you.”

  “He called you? You didn’t tell him about L.A.”

  “No. I told him I had talked to you yesterday and you sounded fine. I didn’t know what to say. I gather he didn’t take your leaving very well.”

  “No, he didn’t. I’m about five miles from your place.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “I’m not hungry. Do you need me to pick something up for you?”

  “Actually, I’m cooking dinner. I’ve been taking a class.”

  “I can’t wait to see this. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

  Anger at Patrick’s presumption to call her best friend sent heat rushing through her. How dare he put Ashley in the middle of… of what? She had told him there would be nothing more between them. And she had believed her words when she spoke them. But the ache in her heart told her things between herself and Patrick Doyle would never be resolved.

  Once she had deposited her bags in the guest room, Jenny joined Ashley in the kitchen. The smells emanating from a pan on the stove nudged her toward hunger. “What is that?”

  “It’s a pasta dish I learned to make. It’s got squash, zucchini, asparagus, broccoli, tomatoes, peppers and black olives in it, and the sauce is made with the black olive juice, fresh-squeezed lemon, and olive oil.”

  “Sounds and smells delicious. I’m very impressed and suddenly starving.”

  Ashley opened the oven. “We have garlic bread and in the fridge is freshly-grated Romano cheese.”

  Jenny narrowed her eyes. “Are you learning this
for yourself, or is there a guy in the picture you’re trying to impress?”

  “I needed a hobby to take my mind off work. I decided I could accomplish two tasks at once—learn something creative and, in the process, take better care of myself.” She eased the contents of the pan into a large pasta-serving bowl and sprinkled the dish with grated cheese.

  “Leave it to you to multi-task relaxation.” Jenny filled glasses with water and added slices of lemon. “Who else are you expecting?”

  “I know, I made enough for six. I don’t exactly have the portion thing down yet.” Ashley sat across from her and smiled. “You want to talk about what happened?”

  Jenny lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “He wants more than I can give him. I won’t do to Patrick what I did to Matt. I have to be honest.”

  “Uh-huh. What do you think Patrick wants?”

  “A future, a family. He wants me back, but I can’t be the girl he fell in love with.”

  Ashley set down her fork and leveled her gaze on Jenny. “Is he the boy you fell in love with?”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “Yours, if I have to choose sides. Patrick loves you. Neither of you are the boy or girl who fell in love way back when. You both have history and you both have scars.”

  Jenny self-consciously traced her fingers along the rough skin on the right side of her neck.

  “I meant emotional scars, baggage.”

  “Can we discuss this later? The food’s getting cold, and it’s delicious, by the way,” Jenny segued, stuffing a forkful of pasta and vegetables into her mouth.

  “Thank you. I never realized cooking could be so much fun. Wait until you taste my pot roast. Do you want to at least fill me in on your plans? How long can you stay?”

  “I thought I’d wrap things up at the office and head out to L.A. to look for an apartment. I’d like to get settled in before the West Coast office is up and running.”

  Ashley nodded. “I need to fly out there again next week. Why don’t we go together? I can help you find a place to live, and we can take a few days for vacation.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  After dinner, while they worked together to clear the plates and clean the kitchen, Jenny asked, “Okay, I have to ask—what did Patrick want from you?”

  Ashley continued washing pots. “He asked if I knew where you were going. You apparently told him you weren’t sure.”

  “That’s because I don’t want him to come looking for me. What did you tell him?”

  “I said you hadn’t mentioned your plans to me for leaving Miley’s Cove—which is true. He wanted me to promise to call him when I knew more. I told him as your friend I couldn’t make that promise. My loyalty is to you, and you will have to tell him what you want him to know.”

  Jenny tossed the dishtowel onto the counter and slumped down on one of the chairs. “I really screwed up. I let things get out of control.”

  “Things?”

  “Myself. I lost control. Patrick was always a safe harbor for me. It was so easy to just slip back into his arms, let him comfort me. I didn’t think about how he might interpret my actions. Now I’ve hurt him all over again.”

  Ashley dried her hands and sat down. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay in Boston and give yourself more time to work things through with him?”

  “No. Absolutely not. I’ve made a decision, and I intend to follow it through. I’m moving forward from now on.”

  ****

  Jenny dropped her head back against the headrest as the jet’s engines roared. Perhaps this trip to L.A. would be a good way of solidifying the break she was making from past to future. She wriggled and settled into the luxurious first-class seat.

  “You okay?” Ashley asked.

  “I am okay. I’ve never flown first class before.”

  Ashley grinned. “Get used to it. Harbor Lights Publishing is growing by leaps and bounds, and as Executive Editor of the L.A. office, you’ll also be doing a fair amount of travel.” Ashley accepted two glasses of wine from the flight attendant and passed one to Jenny. “Here’s to a new beginning. You’re going to love L.A. I am so jealous.”

  Jenny sipped the wine, swallowing down the lump of uncertainty that bobbed in her throat. Gavin had tried to get her to see the difference between moving forward and searching for a geographic cure, but she argued that she knew what she was doing. As the plane roared down the runway, however, she wasn’t totally convinced. It’s just normal anxiety about change. You felt the same way when you left Miley’s Cove the first time.

  “Jen?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You were lost in thought. Where’d you go?”

  This time she gulped the wine and forced a smile. “Just thinking ahead. Hey, how come you already had a second ticket for this trip?”

  Ashley drew in a deep breath and her mouth tightened. “Jon was supposed to come with me, and we were going to spend a few days of R&R.”

  “Jon?”

  Ashley flushed. “Okay, I confess. The new guy I was learning to cook for.”

  Jenny’s mouth hung open. “You didn’t tell me. How long has this been going on?”

  “Only the past two months. When I suggested he join me for this trip, he was all for it. Then I think he got scared that I was moving too fast, getting serious.”

  “Was it serous? For you, I mean?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m feeling my clock ticking and he read that. I didn’t want to tell you because you have enough on your mind. Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Ash, we’re friends. You can talk to me any time about anything.”

  “I know but… Look, don’t worry about me. It wasn’t meant to be. Jon was jealous of my work. He’s too needy. Maybe I’m not ready to compromise my career goals for a relationship. Anyway…” She took hold of Jenny’s hand. “This worked out perfectly. In a way, I’m a bit jealous of you, getting to move to the West Coast where the sun always shines and get a fresh start.”

  “From what I’ve heard, the sun doesn’t always shine in L.A. and, even when it does, you can’t see it for the smog.”

  From the moment the plane touched down at LAX and Jenny followed Ashley into the bustling terminal, she felt lost and a bit overwhelmed. But she plodded along to baggage claim and then to the cab to take them to their hotel.

  After three days of traffic jams, smog, crowded streets, and viewing five prime office spaces, Jenny gave in to her anxiety. She and Ashley had planned a day in Hollywood and shopping on Rodeo Drive. Jenny sat across from Ashley in the hotel coffee shop. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  “What, shopping? We don’t have to do Rodeo Drive today. What would you like to do?”

  Jenny met her friend’s gaze. “Go home.”

  Ashley’s smile faded. “Home?”

  “I can’t do this. I don’t fit here, Ash. L.A. is more your speed.”

  “You mean ‘go home’ as in stay in Boston?”

  Jenny winced. “I’m sorry. I know you pushed for me to get this job, and I appreciate the confidence you have in me. But I can’t stay here.”

  Ashley’s frown changed to a broad smile and her eyes sparkled. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, and why does that make you happy?”

  Sitting back in her chair, Ashley glanced out the window of the coffee shop at the throng of tanned faces passing by. “Because I find all of this exciting. If you’re serious, I’ll talk to Edgar and see what I can work out. I’d love to take over the L.A. office. I’ll ask him to promote you to Executive Editor in the Boston office, if you think you want to stay there.”

  “Really? You can do that?”

  “Jen, I came to Harbor Lights when it was a floundering company six years ago and I’ve turned things around. Edgar thinks I walk on water, and I don’t intend to dispel that myth. He also trusts my judgment implicitly, which is why he affirmed my decision to offer you this office. I’ll just tell him that, once we got out here and discussed the
needs of the new office, you and I agreed I would be the better person to get things established here. And I’ll recommend you to pick up the reins in the Boston office.”

  Jenny exhaled for what seemed like the first time in four days. “Hey, I could rent your condo. It’ll cover your mortgage, and then if you decide to move back to the East Coast, you’ll still have a place to live.”

  “That is a freakin’ fantastic idea. Now that we solved that issue, do you feel like going shopping? But first, I’ll go upstairs and call Edgar. You finish your coffee.”

  Maybe Gavin had been right. Moving across the country wasn’t going to fill her need for absolution. She would have to face the past, deal with the mistakes she had made, and find a way to make a future for herself at home, where she belonged.

  Patrick’s face danced before her. Even if she stayed in Boston, she had to let him go. Besides, he would be in Santa Barbara soon. Starting over meant starting fresh. Not that she was in the market for a new relationship. She would put her energies into her work. Maybe she would even write that novel she always thought she had inside her.

  She sighed and headed back upstairs to the suite she and Ashley shared.

  “Edgar thinks our plan is brilliant,” Ashley said when Jenny entered the suite. “He wants to meet with you as soon as we get back to discuss your promotion.”

  “Looking forward it.” For the first time in a very long time, anticipation fluttered inside her.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Jenny’s apprehension grew as the cab made its way from Logan Airport to Ashley’s Marlborough Street condo. This was it—the first day of the rest of her new life. She wanted to feel good about this move, to look forward with anticipation to the changes that were happening. As always, positive feelings were tinged with a shadow of sadness over the losses that had brought her to this point. Would she ever be totally free of the guilt she felt over surviving the accident that claimed Matt and Cooper, even though she knew with certainty now that it was not her fault?

  “Jen, are you getting out?” Ashley asked.

 

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