Cara continued. “I was in the flow, doing great, certain I would get funding for my idea.”
“Which is?”
Cara raised an eyebrow…surprised he was interested? Good. He could still surprise Cara. That was important. The last thing he wanted was to become predictable—boring—to her.
“Personality based matching of VCs and entrepreneurs because there are way more people wanting to raise money than invest it. My idea would make the process more efficient by screening for compatibility. Life would be a lot easier for VCs with my idea. But you wouldn’t know that by Jack Pratt’s reaction.”
“You said he called you a slut?”
“Ignorant slut.”
His blood boiled. “What? He’s a dead man!”
“Calm down. I reacted like you, but later I found out he was quoting Saturday Night Live.”
He growled. “I don’t give a damn. He can’t call my girl a slut.”
“Jason, don’t go all cave-man.” Cara told him the details, finishing with, “I saw red, I heard red, everything went red.”
“That pretty much describes me right now.”
“Wait. Did you say my girl?”
“Well—You know what I mean.”
“Well—No I don’t.”
“Why don’t you get back to how you flunked out.”
“Not exactly! My prof gave me a second chance.”
Whew, dodged a bullet there with the “my girl” bit.
They crossed the last block in town and started up their road. There were no sidewalks because the development that included the Ward and Cruz houses was originally created around 1920. Forest trees and shrubs formed a corridor of greenery. Sunlight filtered through the canopy.
“Your professor gave you another chance?”
“Yeah. He told me to go home and relax, then take the exam again in early September. I’ll present to a panel of professors, not VCs. Obviously I won’t get funding, but I never intended to do that startup. I have the Chicago job.”
Despite the knife to his gut at the mention of Chicago, Jason managed, “I’m proud of you, Cara.”
She looked up at him with one eyebrow raised. “Why? I just told you how I blew it.”
“Not really. You set that asshole straight.”
She laughed. “Thank you. And I’m proud of you too.”
“For what?”
“For coming home to take care of Francie.”
He shrugged. “I needed a place to live, too.”
“I know. I’m sorry about baseball, Jason.”
“I’m putting it behind me.”
They reached the Cruz’s house, and he walked her up to the porch.
“Do you want to come in?”
Whoa. Like stream-a-movie-and-chill—code for wild monkey sex—come in? He studied her face. Her expression was open and friendly, not like she was looking for so much as a kiss. Oh well. Better take it slow. “I’ll let you get your chores done.”
“Okay.”
Cara disappeared inside. Jason hesitated in the screened-in porch, wishing for something more. They were past the harsh words of last night, but were they heading for a platonic friendship? Was that all she wanted?
****
The sun was at its peak by the time Jason climbed the ramp to their front door. Mom’s red geraniums looked great in their flower boxes against the white house. Jason picked up the hose and gave them a squirt then stepped inside the sunny interior. The house was a good place for Mom. He was glad they didn’t have a two-story place. He would have had to move her. It was so much better that she could stay where she’d always lived. He’d made some changes, like the ramp, the shower, pulling out the carpets…
The news played in the background. Mom didn’t necessarily watch the TV, more used it for white noise while she played solitaire on her tablet, which she was doing now.
“Hey Mom.” He bent and dropped a peck on her soft cheek. “How are you?”
Francie smiled at the kiss. “I’m fine. How was your walk with Cara?”
“Good.” Mom gave him a penetrating look, which he chose to ignore. “Worked off the scones and I’m ready for lunch. How ’bout you?”
Mom laughed and shook her head. “I won’t be able to eat for an hour at least. I’ve just been sitting here. Don’t change the subject.”
“It was fine.”
“No kissing behind the tree like when you were kids?”
“Mom!”
“Well, why not? You still like her, don’t you?”
“I don’t want to talk about my love life with you, Mom.”
“Oh, so you still love her.”
“Mom.”
“Jason.
“Mom, can you at least let me eat my sandwich?” He took a bite, and his phone vibrated. He stood and worked the phone out of his pocket. Garrett?
Jason’s stomach rolled. Sad to say, but these days getting a call from his best bud was never good news. His friend washed out of MLB on a tide of alcohol. Then he took up gambling. He was a lot like Dad, which pushed Jason’s buttons. Garrett’s weaknesses triggered bad memories, but he fought the impulse to walk away, to distance himself from his friend.
Jason wouldn’t ignore Garrett’s calls for help like he did with Dad. Yeah, Jason was just 15 when Dad called from Atlantic City asking him to hit up Mom for money. Jason refused. His dad had been in a car accident right after that. Not that the two were related, his dad had been a drunk driver, and his luck ran out, but their last interaction was Jason refusing to help.
“Excuse me.” Jason took the sandwich to his room, nudging the door shut with his heel. He dumped the plate on the dresser on his way to the windows. “Hey, buddy. What’s up?”
“Hey, Jason. I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could borrow some money.”
Jason stopped grinding his teeth and stared at the side yard. The trees needed trimming. “How much?”
After a long pause, he said, “Five grand.”
Jason’s gut clenched. “Shit, Garrett.”
“I know.” The voice was weak, defeated.
Dad had never admitted defeat. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t be dead. “I’m glad you called.”
“Thanks, Jase. These are bad dudes.”
“They always are. One thing though. I want to pay your bookie directly.”
“Oh, you don’t want to do that.”
“I do.”
“He’s not…someone you meet.”
“Then his runner.”
“No, really, Jason—”
“Forgive me for not trusting you not to gamble it again, Garrett. I think I’m justified.” Jason hated to call him out like that, but with a friend, it’s best to call it as you see it.
“You are. I really appreciate it. And I’ll pay you back, Jason. If it’s the last thing I do.”
After he disconnected, Jason picked up his prized memento, the game ball from when he pitched a no-hitter for the Sox. The ball made soft thudding noises as he tossed it back and forth between his hands. Baseball was supposed to be his ticket to the big time. Well, here he was in tiny Lobster Cove, back where he started. But things could be at least a little different now, if he could do for his friend what he couldn’t do for Dad.
Save him.
Chapter Three
Cara set the last Lobster Cove Grocery Mart bag on Mama’s granite tile counter. The morning had gone well. She’d gone over to the Ward’s hoping to smooth things over with Jason, and it worked. The whole thing with the scones was great. Getting to walk with him was even better. What a relief he seemed just as intent as she on restoring their friendship. She was still attracted to him, fiercely, but she couldn’t act on the feeling. She had to ignore the pull.
A deep woof startled her. Ripper had been watching her unload groceries from where he lay on his dog bed. His hopeful expression broke into a pant accompanied by a tail wag as Blanca came through the door. A year ahead of Cara in business school, she graduated sooner and wa
s working at GameCom, the company their brother-in-law Rick Nordan founded and where Luke worked. She was home for a two-week vacation.
“Hey, Blanca, want to help put away groceries?”
Blanca dropped her purse on a stool at the counter, took some cans of soup from a bag, and stacked them in a cabinet. “This house is so nice. Maya’s plan for Mama to rent it out may not have been necessary in the long run, but at least it was good for getting the place remodeled.”
“The best part is Mama can enjoy it.” The chill of the fridge grazed her arm as Cara set a carton of milk in the door shelf.
Blanca disappeared inside her blue sweater, and a moment later the shiny dark crown of her head popped out through the collar. “Yes, especially since the house isn’t so drafty any more.”
Not having cold wind blowing through cracks and crevices would be much easier on Mama’s bones in the winter. Not that anything was wrong with Mama’s bones, but Cara liked thinking of her being cozy here in the winter when all her daughters were gone.
Blanca finished putting away some baking supplies and folded the paper bag, slipping it into one of the new cabinets. “What are you planning to do for the Fourth of July celebrations? Is the gang getting together like usual?”
“As far as I know Sin, Sheila, Paul, and Michael will be there, but Andrew is out of town.”
“I was thinking of coming back out with Luke.”
“That’s great!”
“I was going to ask you not to kiss him again.”
Cara laughed nervously and looked up from putting a bunch of celery in the vegetable crisper. Fortunately, Blanca was smiling.
“You must feel great having school behind you,” Blanca said.
Cara held her breath, and her heart rate increased. She’d never planned to walk in the official ceremony, so no one questioned whether or not she’d graduated, but she couldn’t hide forever the fact she hadn’t passed her last class. “Um…I have to retake my final in September.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I blew the final.”
Blanca’s nostrils flared. “I told you to study more.”
Cara bristled at the familiar judgmental refrain. An impulse to say something flip gripped her. Something like, no big deal. What’s important about another degree anyway? But reactions like that kept getting her in trouble. Hadn’t her advisor said she needed to demonstrate self-control? Well, no time like now to practice.
She took a deep breath and stated the simple truth. “One VC at the presentation really upset me. No amount of studying would have made a difference.”
“You could have rehearsed more.”
“I didn’t forget my lines.” Cara finished peeling an onion she’d set aside from the fresh groceries and sliced it then chopped the rows into squares. The pungent smell made her eyes water.
“It isn’t fair you have a better memory.”
“What?” Where was that coming from? “We’re identical twins. That’s not possible.” Cara took a step back and wiped at her eyes with the back of her wrist.
Blanca stared at her with a frown. “But it’s true.”
“Blanca, what are you talking about? You graduated a year ahead of me with an MBA from the same program. Thankfully we had a different emphasis otherwise we might as well be clones.”
Blanca’s lower lip jutted forward. “I had to work harder than you. You seemed to float through it. Even after messing up in high school and having to go to Junior college, you caught up easily. I had my nose to the grindstone the whole time. You breezed in and made it look easy.”
“Are you kidding? The program nearly killed me. I’m tired.”
“Yet you managed go out on the weekends and have fun. While the whole time I was at the library.”
It was true, Blanca worked harder than Cara. And Blanca’s grades weren’t really that much better. Some were better, but some weren’t as good. Cara always figured the nose-to-the-grindstone thing was Blanca’s choice. She was an over-achiever. The sudden revelation that school was harder for her was confusing, and so was this unexpected resentment. “Peace, Blanca.”
“If you flunked your final, why aren’t you studying? After all the money Maya gave you for school, you should show some respect.”
“Whoa. Where is this coming from? I was told to take the summer off. That’s what I’m doing.”
“What about Jason?”
“What about him?”
Blanca’s eyes narrowed. “He waits around for you. You can do anything you want, and he’s still there for you.”
Had something gone wrong with Blanca’s relationship with Luke? Was that the source of Blanca’s resentment? “I’m trying to sort that out.”
“You’ve always been the lucky one. But you should study. You owe that much to Maya. She may be rich now, but she wasn’t when she put us through school.”
Blanca’s words stung. Her twin knew exactly where to hit where it hurt. Tears threatened, and Cara’s throat tightened. She swallowed in annoyance and managed to get rid of both symptoms. Blanca was manipulating her. Anger and defiance flooded Cara. She didn’t know what this was really about, but she wouldn’t let Blanca lay this guilt on her.
“I will.” Cara’s voice was even, surprisingly. Encouraged by her self-control, which signified a step forward in not letting her twin push her buttons too obviously, Cara continued. Her face flushed with heat, but her tone was steady. “Of course I’ll finish. And I’ll pay Maya back. Maya has never mentioned this. Why did you?”
Blanca crossed her arms. “Because you get away with way too much. I know. I live with you. When are you going to tell Maya you flunked your final?”
Cara shrugged. “I’ll add a note with the first check I send after I start my job.” She turned to the door where Mama was standing with her mouth hanging open. Cara cringed. Blanca fled to their room. Great, now Cara couldn’t escape there. Maybe she should stay in Maya’s empty room until Blanca went back to the west coast.
“What was that all about?” Mama said, still standing in the middle of the dining room like she was afraid to enter the war zone.
Cara crossed to Mama and kissed her on the cheek. “Honestly, I don’t know. We’ll sort it out though. Don’t worry. How was your day? I picked up some groceries and started making dinner.”
“Thank you, honey,” Mama said, worry still written in the lines around her eyes. “Is everything okay at school? Do you need some tutoring or something?”
Cara smiled, charmed. “I’m okay, Mom. I get another chance in the fall, and it will be with a nice group of professors. I don’t need to get actual funding since I already have that job lined up. The presentation is fine, and I won’t lose my temper this time.”
Mama crossed to the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Lose your temper?”
“Yes.” Cara’s face heated at the thought of what the VC had said to her. No way would she repeat it to Mama.
“I’m sure you had a good reason. Thank you for going shopping.”
Cara finished sautéing the onions, dumped them into the slow cooker, then added canned beans, tomatoes, vegetarian beef crumble, and spices, or at least she hoped she did, because her mind kept going over the conversation with Blanca. The more she thought about it, the angrier she grew. How dare Blanca say that Jason was always waiting around for her? Blanca acted like it was Cara’s fault Jason hurt her.
She turned on the slow cooker, thinking about the trainload of baggage being Blanca’s twin hauled along with it.
An idea blossomed. A defiant little way to say bye-bye to the identical twin thing. “Mama, can I borrow the car?”
****
Cara stared into the cold blue eyes of Lucille the Executioner as the tattoo artist was called behind her back. Lucille’s House of Pain Tattoos was a colorful shop in the quaint town of Trenton, Maine, the nearest town on the mainland. The tattoo shop was hopping, and not just with customers in pain. Lucille did a lot of business.
Lobster Cov
e could use a tattoo parlor to keep up with the next generation, but so far that hadn’t happened. Hmm…a business opportunity? Perhaps.
“You sure?” Lucille looked down at the binder full of her designs.
Cara nodded. “Yes.” Oh God, now what? She should have researched the process. No—better not to know ahead of time, or she’d never do it. She was a pain wimp. Blanca was the one with the high pain threshold.
Blanca. That’s why she was here. The tattoo was a rite of passage—a way to differentiate herself, at least in her own mind. When she looked in the mirror, she wouldn’t see Blanca.
Cara survived her tattoo and headed home from Trenton. Her shoulder ached, but crossing the bridge to Lobster Cove always put Cara in a good mood. On its way from Trenton to Mount Desert Island, the road passed over Thompson Island, a scenic area covered by tide pools. With no one behind her on the two-lane highway, Cara slowed and lowered the windows. Sweet scents of grass and trees mingled with salty seawater on a cool blast. The gnarled roots of a twisted tree clung to a staircase embankment formed by sandstone. It was getting dark, and the pools among the rocks mirrored clouds chasing each other across an indigo and star-flecked canvas.
Pressing the accelerator, Cara headed away from the island, her hair whipping in the wind. Soon she’d be wearing a suit to work, but her tattoo was her private declaration of independence.
She paused in their driveway and studied the Ward’s house. Was she ready just to be friends with Jason? An ache in her heart overpowered the one on her shoulder.
****
Jason was getting ready for bed when a knock sounded. He opened the door to find Cara standing there in a T-shirt and jeans, shivering.
“Cara. Why aren’t you wearing a jacket?”
“I’m…sore.”
Alarmed, he reached for her as he looked past her, instinctively looking for something or someone who might have hurt her.
“Ow!”
He retracted his hand. “I’m sorry. What’s wrong with your shoulder?”
Third Strike's the Charm Page 3
