by Donna Alward
“You can’t play that game,” she said. “You just can’t. You’ll drive yourself crazy. Believe me, I’ve done it a thousand times. There are things I would change, too.”
She looked up at him. In so many ways he was the same Rick she’d always known, and in others he was different. He smiled less, frowned more. Kept to himself rather than be the life of the party. Was alone with his demons rather than being out with his friends.
“So what do you say we forget about what just happened and I’ll tell you the real reason why I came over?”
“You mean it wasn’t to annoy me and probe into my psyche?”
He caught on quickly. Jess smiled and shook her head. “No. I want your help with something and in exchange I promise to keep your identity a secret.”
“Sounds intriguing.” He didn’t sound convinced.
She went to the box she’d brought in and took out the package of glass ornaments. “Christmas ornaments. The church women are having their annual bazaar in a few weeks, just before Thanksgiving. We’re always in need of donations for the craft sale.”
“You want me to paint Christmas decorations.”
She beamed. “I do. Your work is gorgeous. I know you’ll do a fantastic job.”
He sighed. “Anything else?”
“I’m glad you asked.” She reached into the box again and withdrew a glass candle holder. “I usually do these up with some ribbon, or maybe hot glue and little stones and gems. But you could do some really neat things here. Mistletoe and holly and poinsettias, that sort of thing. What do you say?”
“Jess, really? For the church sale?”
“It’s a good cause, Rick. The money goes back into the group coffers. Last year we bought a new dishwasher for the kitchen and donated a bunch to a mission in South America.”
“I’m not sure I have time…”
She put the glass holder back in the box. “You said yourself that the demand for your work isn’t as high right now, not like in summer. Besides, you’ve finished putting in my shelves. I’m busy, but I still take time to put together several items and I volunteer on the day.”
“It’s a bunch of old ladies making doilies.”
“Are you calling me an old lady, Richard Sullivan?” She put her hands on her hips.
That finally cracked a smile. “You are anything but old, Jess.”
Rick went to the box and withdrew a glass orb, turning it in his fingers. “You’re trying very hard to insinuate me back into this town,” he said, not looking at her.
“Because it’s your home. Because people will be here for you if you let them.”
“Are you so sure of that?” He put the ball back in the package. “Not everything is easily forgiven.”
“You have sins you’re hiding?”
His gaze was inscrutable. “There are things I don’t talk about, Jess. Things I don’t ever want to talk about. You start letting people get close, and secrets have a way of getting out. The town can get pretty small.”
Didn’t she know it. Rick’s comment about Saint Jess all those weeks ago had touched a nerve. She filled her days with projects because it was better than being alone. But she never aspired to be perfect or be held up on some sort of pedestal. Still, small towns like Jewell Cove were also supportive in times of need. They stood by their own. “It might be small, but you’re one of us. You’ll see. If you let me put your name on it, they’d sell like hotcakes. Guaranteed.”
He sighed. “Okay, you win. I’ll do it.”
“You will?”
“After I finish the door for Tom and Abby. And without my name attached to them. Got it? This is a onetime thing for the church.”
She smiled suddenly. “That’s great! All you have to do is let me know when they’re done, and I’ll come and pick them up.”
“You don’t have to look so pleased with yourself.”
“Oh, but I am.” She looked around his studio. “One day you won’t feel like you have to hide all of this. What’s the old saying about putting your light under a bushel?”
Rick treated her to a sarcastic smile. “If you break out into a chorus of ‘Let It Shine,’ this conversation is over.”
Jess realized that they were standing there grinning at each other, and she was tempted, so tempted, to rewind about ten minutes and start over with the kissing bit again.
“Well … I guess I should go.” Funny how she didn’t sound as much in a hurry as usual.
“I’m sure we both have work to do,” he replied.
She glanced over at the door, his latest project that was both stunning and generous. “Think about telling Abby and Tom it’s your work. They won’t judge. I promise.”
“Good-bye, Jess.”
She met his gaze one last time.
“Bye, Rick.”
He didn’t follow her to the door, or watch out the window as she drove away, but she couldn’t escape the feeling he was watching her just the same.
It bothered her to realize how much she didn’t really mind.
CHAPTER 11
Jess locked up Treasures and made her way down the hill to the waterfront. She had a date tonight with Sarah, Abby, and Mary for pasta and tiramisu at Gino’s. She’d been hiding away too much lately, giving her classes, manning the store, working on making Christmas stock. She’d stitched so many tartan stockings in the last two days she could practically see plaid behind her eyelids. They were beautiful, but the wool was not her favorite material to work with and just before leaving she’d let her attention slip and she’d stabbed the pad of her index finger with a kilt pin.
Jess let out a breath. The days seemed so short now and the streetlamps were already glowing, guiding her down the hill. Her breath formed clouds in the air and she pulled her scarf closer to her chin, warding off the November wind that blew off the water.
She was close enough to Gino’s that the scent of tomato and garlic hung in the air, urging her to walk faster. Jess was nearly to the little ramp leading to the doors when they swung open and a woman came out, a takeout bag in her arms.
For a moment Jess didn’t recognize her. She wore a funky peaked cap and a dark red leather jacket, along with slim jeans and knee-high boots, giving Jess a fleeting jolt of fashion envy. Then her gaze settled on the woman’s features and it felt as though all the blood drained out of her face.
Of all the people to run into tonight, it had to be Mike Greer’s sister.
Pamela’s gaze burned down on Jess. “I should have known I’d run into you.”
Jess bristled at the resigned tone. She felt like saying, Then why didn’t you stay where you were? but she already knew the answer. Pam had come home because her mom was dying. That was reason enough for Jess to curb her tongue.
Very calmly, Jess took a step back and straightened her spine. “I’m very sorry about your mother,” Jess offered quietly. No matter what Mike had done, she’d never held a grudge against the rest of the family. She’d never said a word against Mike, either—even though Pam had made it clear at the time that she considered the breakup Jess’s fault.
Pamela nodded. “Thanks,” she said as an awkward silence descended on the pair. They’d never been close. Pam had to be a good six, seven years older than her brother, always several years ahead of Jess in school. She’d gone off to university in New York before Jess and Mike had even started dating. Jess didn’t figure he’d been singing her praises to his sister in the years since.
The door to the restaurant opened, expelling more rich scents and the sound of relaxing music. Sarah came out. “Oh good, Jess, you’re here! We were wondering what happened to you. You didn’t pick up your phone.” Sarah finally seemed to pick up on the tension and her smile faded. “Everything okay?”
“Fine.” Jess smiled, while her lips felt stretched holding the artificial expression. “I’ll be there in just a second.”
Sarah went back inside and shut the door after one last worried glance. Without so much as a good-bye, Pam stalked off,
leaving Jess standing in the circle of light by the entrance.
Everyone was inside waiting. Jess wished she could take a few minutes to pull herself together but taking any more time was going to cause even more questions. She took a deep breath, adjusted her handbag on her shoulder, and pulled open the door.
It was warm and welcoming inside and she saw the girls sitting at a table in a corner. The place was quiet—starting in mid-October, cribbage and dart tournaments were held on Tuesdays at The Rusty Fern. She pasted on a smile as she made her way to the table. The worried looks on the girls’ faces made her nervous, but she’d push through. She always did.
“Hey, sorry I held you up. I was talking to someone outside.”
Sarah snorted. “Yeah, Pam Greer. And it didn’t look like a pleasant conversation. Are you okay?”
Jess hung her coat on the back of the chair. “Of course I am. What’s the special tonight?”
Abby reached over and touched her arm. “Sarah filled us in on who she is. Sister of your ex, right?”
“Yeah.” Ex was such a mild word for Mike but it was the best one.
Mary used her straw to poke at the slice of lemon floating in her water. “Sarah said he left town when you broke up and hasn’t been back. Did you break his heart?”
This was what she’d tried to avoid. After the first month or so, the speculation had stopped. For a long time now it was almost as though people had forgotten about Mike.
But all it took was one awkward conversation outside a restaurant and she was forced to fabricate answers. She hated lying to her friends. Especially to Sarah. They shared a lot as sisters, but they hadn’t shared this. The sunshiny Sarah was just finally starting to come around again. Too much time had passed to open that whole can of worms.
“It was just weird, that’s all. And I think it’s worse because it’s the first time she’s been home in a long time and she’s sad and scared about her mom. I’m not going to worry about it.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. Now let me look at this menu so I can decide what to eat. I’m starving.”
She opened the menu and began scanning the items, even though she knew it by heart after all these years. If Pam was home, it was only a matter of time before Mike returned.
The idea of running into him on the street like she’d just run into Pam made her stomach turn sickeningly.
Once they’d placed their orders, Abby brought up her new door. “Hey guys, guess what? Rick Sullivan refinished our sun porch door and you should see it! He didn’t just refinish the wood, but the glass is all painted with blackberry bushes and blossoms. It’s gorgeous, especially when the sun hits it.”
“Wow!” Mary snagged a breadstick from the basket on the table. “Who did that for him?”
“That’s the funny thing. He did it himself. Turns out Rick’s been doing some painting in secret for a while now.”
A warm glow centered in Jess’s chest. Oh, good for him! He’d told them the truth, and she was absurdly proud of him.
“Painting? Rick Sullivan?” Sarah gaped. “You’re kidding. I can’t picture that guy with a paintbrush!”
“I know. Turns out he started doodling a bit when he was hospitalized, and then tried painting some stuff on glass. Don’t say anything, though, okay? I mean, we’re all family here, but I got the feeling he’s pretty shy about it.”
Mary laughed. “Rick? Shy? Right.”
“Art’s a pretty personal thing, when all’s said and done,” Jess said mildly, unfolding her napkin.
Abby peered closer at her. “You’re not surprised, are you?”
Jess picked up her water glass and took a drink.
Sarah’s eyes widened. “You knew?” She leaned forward in her chair. “When did you find out? You and Rick barely speak to each other!”
“They didn’t seem to mind dancing together at the wedding,” Abby pointed out.
“Though Rick did leave before Jess,” Mary said.
“I knew. But he swore me to secrecy. The door is beautiful, Abby. I saw it when he was working on it. He does really great work.” She smiled at everyone. They did not need to know about the kiss. No one needed to know. Not ever.
“You’re blushing.”
“I am not,” she insisted. “It’s warm in here.”
Sarah raised a skeptical eyebrow.
Jess grabbed a breadstick from the basket and tore off a piece. “Look,” she said, lowering her voice. “I’ve known Rick for a lot of years. But I dated someone with a drinking problem and I’m not about to jump into that again. Besides, Rick and I have always just been friends. More like a brother, really.” She dunked the bread into olive oil and balsamic vinegar and popped it in her mouth.
Sarah chuckled. “Right. That man’s never looked at you like a sister. Especially graduation night.”
Breadcrumbs caught in Jess’s throat and she started coughing. Her eyes watered and she reached for her glass, desperately hoping to wash the crumbs away. Oh my God. She’d never realized that Sarah had known about her crush, or that Rick had kissed her all those years ago.
Mary and Abby were positively transfixed at this little tidbit.
“You saw?” was all she managed to say, covering her face with her hands.
“Yeah, I saw you kissing behind the sand dune. I didn’t say anything to Josh though. He would have had a fit. But it wasn’t as private as you thought.”
She shook her head, utterly mortified. “It’s not like we … you know. It was just one kiss.” One kiss and Rick had walked away.
Sarah reached over and squeezed Jess’s hand. “I’m just giving you a hard time, sis. I mean, I’d just started dating Mark. Besides, if you and Rick had been together maybe you wouldn’t have gone out with that asshat Mike.”
Like she needed reminding.
“I think you broke his heart, Jess. Though I always felt it was good riddance to bad rubbish. There was something about him that just wasn’t right for you.”
“Can we talk about something other than Mike or Rick?” She changed the subject. “Mary, how’re you feeling?”
“Good.” She smiled and patted her rounded belly. “Out of the feeling disgusting stage and not yet into the beached whale stage.”
Abby laughed.
Mary looked up at Sarah. “Maybe this isn’t the best topic of conversation, either,” she said hesitantly.
“It’s fine,” Sarah said, waving her hand. The waitress came with their meals and for a minute they halted their conversation as the bowls of pasta were put before them and fresh Parmesan sprinkled on top.
Jess relaxed and speared a tender crescent of tortellini. She was ravenous and the first bite exploded on her tongue, pasta and tangy tomato and cheese.
The topic changed and the rest of the meal passed with tales of Abby’s honeymoon in Paris and Mary’s dilemma about whether or not to find out the sex of the baby. Tiramisu and coffee were served and Jess’s belly was as full as her heart. She had good friends. A wonderful family.
The old strategy of protecting herself was wearing thin and all it took was one look around the table to know why. There was Abby, still in the honeymoon stage, her eyes sparkling all the time. Mary and her perma-glow from carrying a child inside her, and even Sarah’s wistful smile as she talked about her kids and the possibility of trying to get pregnant again.
Jess had thought she’d done all the hard work. She’d faced her fears and was just waiting for the right guy to come along. And still she felt she was somehow missing out on it all.
Maybe there was no such thing as the right man at the right time—at least not for her.
CHAPTER 12
It wasn’t unusual for Rick to drop by the house on Blackberry Hill to visit Abby and Tom. He’d done so several times before the wedding and a few times since. But today he was exceptionally nervous. Abby had invited him up to look at a window she was considering having him paint in the library, and with Rick’s low bank balance, he couldn’t afford
to say no. After assessing the window and pointing out two other spots where he could install custom-made pieces, Abby tried to convince him to stay for coffee. Despite how much he liked Abby, sitting around drinking coffee from fine china in the Foster House was the last thing he wanted to do this afternoon. He was feeling jittery and closed in. God, he wished he could go out on the ocean.
“I should get going. I’m working on a project for Jess and I’d like to finish before she comes around nagging at me.”
“Jess, huh?”
He scowled. “She twisted my arm to get me to do some holiday stuff for the women’s bazaar coming up. Promised to keep it all quiet and stuff. You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”
Abby’s face took on an overly innocent expression and Rick frowned. “Abby?”
“Well, I had dinner with Jess and Mary and Sarah. But they’re family and Jess already knew. They promised not to say anything. I was just so excited about my new door.” She smiled hopefully.
He sighed. It was probably going to get out sooner or later. He liked painting for a hobby, but taking on jobs was more like work and he was afraid he’d lose the fun of it if it became a job. There were lots of times that escaping into a project was all that kept him sane. Especially nights when he couldn’t sleep, when the memories crowded his brain a little too closely.
“Listen, about Jess,” Abby said, and her face turned serious again. “She had a run-in with Pam Greer outside Gino’s. She said it was fine but she was really upset, I could tell. I think she’s really dreading seeing Mike when he comes home. Just keep an eye out for her, okay?”
His insides seized. How much did Abby know? Jess was so quiet about her past but Rick knew it had been bad. That she had a reason to be afraid of her ex. Keep an eye out? Damn straight.
“Don’t worry about Jess. This town loves her. Everyone will have her back.”
“I hope so.” Abby cupped her mug and worked it in slow circles on the tabletop.
“Something on your mind, Abby?”
She met his gaze. “Promise you won’t think I’m crazy?”
His stomach clenched. “Are you sure you want to ask me that? I’ve gone off the rails and it wouldn’t take much to send me there again.”
