Déjà Vu All Over Again

by Ashantay Peters

  Sally watched the scene unfold like a well-known movie. She’d seen this coming for months, but the reality eluded her. Why were Carlos and Abby suddenly making a move? Was she pregnant? Abby swallowed her wine. Nope, not pregnant.

  Abby caught her eye then twined her arm through Sally’s, drawing her to the side. “We’ll hold the ceremony here. This is our refuge, so it makes sense to us. Plus we want the dogs to participate.”

  “I get that.” She cleared her throat. “What’s the date? I’ll need to circle it in red on my calendar.”

  “Thanksgiving weekend. Coffee house business is slow, I don’t have any jobs planned, and Jack will be off tour.”

  “But that’s…that’s only two months away. Are you sure? Not that I’m complaining, and I guess if you aren’t having a reception, the short time period is workable.”

  “Of course we’re having a reception,” Abby said.

  Carlos interrupted his low-voiced conversation with Jack. “We talked about holding it at the coffee house, but we figured that space wouldn’t be big enough, so we reserved the Blue Peak Inn.”

  “The Inn.” Sally’s knees weakened. “Nice.” And romantic. “Lucky you were able to reserve it at this late date.”

  “Everything fell into place.” Abby hugged her. “You always say, if your plans fall into place easily, your wish or desire is meant to be.”

  “Right, that’s right.” She raised her glass and noticed it was empty. Criminy. She’d be drunk in no time if she kept slamming down drinks. “So, what can I do to help?”

  “I’ve got a list,” Abby said. Her soon-to-be daughter had list making down, or rather up to, an elevated art. Even a resident ghost hiding her to-do log hadn’t slowed her down or prevented Abby from making her dreams come true.

  “Not surprised.”

  “I’m hoping you’ll help me with one other thing—kind of a big thing, I guess.”

  She swallowed. What could be harder than standing across from Jack while watching their son marry? She shouldn’t have asked. She knew how the universe acted. Ask and you get, and not always in the form you expected.

  “Um, well, sure, I guess. What do you need?”

  Abby swigged her drink. “My mother will want to take over. Make this into the sort of wedding she thinks I should have.”

  “You were pretty clear about your wishes with us just now.”

  Abby put down her glass and clasped her elbows. “Yeah, but you don’t know her. I’m stronger thanks to you, and you’d think I could stand up for myself at thirty-five years old, but I swear Mom’s a force of nature.” She shook her head. “No, you’re the force of nature. My mom is…a force of a different kind. Not like Encounters of the Third Kind, but in a strange way, close to that. If I hadn’t seen my birth certificate, I’d swear I’d been podded.”

  They’d had discussions about Abby’s mother, and Sally was well aware of the hurting that woman had put on her daughter. She’d try to hold her tongue, but if an opportunity arose to set the woman straight, she wouldn’t remain quiet.

  Oh, hell. Not only would she have the stress of standing up with Jack, she’d have to play nice with a stranger she already disliked. Could be worse. At least she wouldn’t have to dance with Jack. She tuned back in to Abby.

  “And we’ve got a great band. We’re hoping you’ll do the whole first dance thing with us. You know, wedding couple with their parents?”

  Surprise, surprise. And the universe scored again.

  ****

  Jack had been sure he knew what was coming tonight, but he’d been only partly correct. He’d overheard enough on the Grand Canyon trip to know Carlos and Abby were setting a wedding date. Only the advance information hadn’t alerted him to his part in their special day. He’d been blind-sided, but in a great way. Given the expression on Sally’s face, she hadn’t expected their announcement, either.

  He glanced at her as she chatted with Abby in front of the fireplace. The flames and lamplight combined to add highlights to Sally’s hair and soften her appearance. She looked the way he remembered her, young, vibrant, and open.

  Maybe not so open right now. That frown didn’t bode well for his need to know if what was happening between them was closure or an opening to a whole new world. Think positive, man. Her frown could be caused by someone or something else.

  He thought back to their dinner at Celeste’s. She’d kissed him goodnight in the parking lot, and then jumped into her car as if he had a communicable disease. That kiss had given him hope, though. Because if that defined the type of kiss she gave her friends these days, he wouldn’t survive one night as her lover. One night hell—one hour. The heat, and the hard-on, had made the short drive home memorable and uncomfortable.

  He knew from Carlos’s raised tone that he’d asked a question, but Jack had no clue about the inquiry.

  “Sorry. What did you ask?”

  “Checking Mom out, huh? She still looks great, right?” He rushed on without waiting for an answer. “What I said was, we’ve hired a local band for the reception. Not on the Rough Cuts level, but good, really good. Mostly cover songs, some originals. They do well around here, and we were lucky to get them. Anyway, Abby has her heart set on the whole first dance thing.”

  “That’s nice, yeah. A good memory for you. Go for it.”

  “You don’t get it. The parents dance the first number, too. They join in later. So I asked if that would bother you. A slow dance with Mom.”

  Sally turned his way. She looked appalled, or possibly scared.

  Abby punched the air with her fist. “She said yes. The first dance is on!”

  “I guess that’s your answer.” Carlos grinned. “Abby and Mom are so much alike sometimes it’s scary. Together they can rock worlds.”

  He already knew Sally could rock his world for both good and bad. Unfortunately, if her frown gave any indication, he was more like to get stoned—in the biblical sense—not rocked.

  Chapter Ten

  Jack opened his door to Sally. His thoughts froze on “Wow.” He swallowed his spit. He’d thought the black dress Sally had worn the last time was hot. The green suit she had on tonight kicked his ass. Could be she’d worn the suit to keep things from heating up, but that wouldn’t fly. She couldn’t know the professor look turned him on. Yeah, he was one twisted bastard.

  “Come on in. You have any problem finding the place?”

  “No. I like driving around the lake, checking out the colors during autumn. I knew how to find your neighborhood, though I’d never passed through the gates.”

  Jack handed her a glass of wine and offered hors d’ oeuvres.

  “Great pâté,” she said. “Did Pete cater tonight?”

  The corners of his mouth turned up. “I do cook, remember?” He leaned closer and snagged a canapé. Her heat and scent filled his senses. His head spun. “I hope you like the wine.”

  “Right, yes, the wine is…lively. Fresh, fruity with undertones of herbs and, is that vanilla?” She tilted her head. “Nice finish.”

  “Good.” Deep silence gathered between them. Having Sally in his home sped from good idea to an open pit of danger. A secret, one she may not believe as truth, lay down the hall.

  She gulped her wine, setting the empty glass on the cocktail table and folding her hands together. He half expected her to cross her legs at her ankles and balance a book on her head.

  “Your house is lovely. This was your uncle’s home? I’m sorry I never got to meet him. How long have you lived here?”

  Her voice was high and she raced through her speech. Nice to know they shared something, though nerves wasn’t his first pick for mutuality.

  “I’ve been coming here since I was a kid, starting with short summer vacations. I inherited a few years ago, but until recently I only spent a few weeks a year here.”

  “But this room has such a warm feel. Lived in and cared for. Comfortable, yet stylish.”

  She liked his home. Score one in his campaign to win
her over. “I did some remodeling, added on a room. Would you like a quick tour?”

  Oh, shit. His mouth operated independently. Still, the door to the past had been opened weeks ago, and not by him. Time to show her another part of his life and hope for the best.

  “That’d be nice, yes,” she said. “Thanks.”

  They slipped out of the room and down a short hallway to the foyer. He led her through the house, gauging her reaction to the heart pine wood paneling, stone fireplace, vaulted ceiling and original Arts and Crafts furniture. The more she praised, the looser his muscles became.

  He stopped at a closed door. His nerves kicked up to staccato. “This is my favorite room.” He threw open the door and stepped back.

  Sally threw him a questioning glance. “Better not be your bedroom.” She stepped inside. He followed, seeing the familiar room with new eyes, hoping he hadn’t made a mistake sharing with her.

  One wall made mostly of glass overlooked a view of the lake and surrounding trees. A French door to the side led onto a small deck that boasted two deck chairs. Guitars on stands were stationed around the room. His framed music awards covered almost two walls. Would she think his display arrogant?

  Her complete stillness told him she’d noticed the baby grand situated in front of the windows.

  She pointed then dropped her hand, but not before he’d noticed her shaking fingers. “Are those—?”

  He cleared his throat, but his reply sounded husky. “Yeah.” The photographs she’d left behind when she’d run from him were arranged on his piano, still in the original cheap plastic frames she’d bought.

  “How did you?” Her shoulders hunched.

  “Our flaky neighbor saw the box at the curb. She saved the photos. She was sure I’d be looking for you and Carlos.” He put his hands on her shoulders, feeling her shaking abate. “I packed some of the stuff away for a while to keep our secret, but I never threw out anything important from our time together.”

  She exhaled. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything.” Tears pooling in her eyes convinced him he hadn’t made a mistake in bringing her here. He’d been afraid she’d think he hauled out the photos to make points with her, but her reaction told him differently. Taking a chance when they met again, revealing he’d searched for her, had been his only indication to her until now. Photos did speak.

  Her eyes glistened. “I never knew,” she whispered.

  Their gazes tangled. A sense of yearning, of wanting more, swept him. So close, and now, more open to him than she’d been so far. He placed his palm on the side of her face brushing a tress of soft hair from her forehead.

  “This is a dream. Has to be.” She licked her lips.

  “No dream, babe. This is real. You. Me. Us.”

  His gaze locked on her glistening mouth. “Together again. I’d add naturally, but that’s not true, is it? We’ve had to fight to get to this point. And damned if I know where we’re going.”

  “I think we’re headed in well, maybe not the right direction, but at least we’ve shifted.”

  “So I can kiss you now?”

  She nodded. “That’d be nice.”

  “Nice” hell. This chance had to count big. He bent closer, his lips skimming hers in first contact. He angled for more.

  The house phone rang, shattering their intimacy. Shit. Talk about bad timing.

  She edged from him, hugging her elbows like a waif in one of those late-night charity commercials. For the first time he could remember, she looked ravaged.

  “Guess you’d better answer, huh.”

  He checked caller ID. Mitch. “Damn it.” He snatched up the phone. “This had better be good.”

  “I think it is,” Mitch said. “I’ve got the rehearsal space. Be there in three days. I’ll e-mail the information tomorrow.”

  He tempered his tone and watched Sally move to the piano and pick up a picture frame “So why’d you call?”

  “So you couldn’t say you didn’t know when to show. Three days, Jack. No excuses.”

  “Fine. I hear you.”

  Ending the call, he joined Sally. He slipped his arms around her waist, marveling at the curves that still sparked a physical reaction.

  “I remember the day you took this,” she said. “We were picnicking at the arboretum. PB&J sandwiches and lemonade.”

  “Frisbees. Was that the day the kite broke free?”

  She smiled. “No, that was…in April. This was July. See the sparkler package in the basket?”

  “Carlos loved those damn things, didn’t he? And those charcoal snakes your dad gave him.” He turned her in his arms, the material of her suit sliding under his hands.

  “Yeah, he still buys bargain-sized packs of each every summer.” Her smile slipped. “I’m so sorry, Jack. You missed so much. I—”

  He rested his fingers over her lips. “Stop. We both screwed up. Let’s kick our regrets in the ass.”

  Removing his fingers from her lips, he finally claimed the taste he’d wanted but not admitted since his first glance outside her store. Sweet as the kiss was, he still wondered. Would they ever overcome their past? His thoughts slipped away as passion claimed his attention.

  ****

  Jack entered the rehearsal space they’d booked in Atlanta. Most of the band lived on the East coast or in the Midwest. Besides a central location and major airport, the tour opened here. His buddies waited for him, along with Mitch.

  Mitch rubbed his hands together. “Right, you’re all here. I’ve got some good news. You know the dates sold out in hours, right?”

  Jack’s stomach churned. He hoped Mitch hadn’t added shows at the end of the tour. No way he’d miss Carlos and Abby’s wedding. Plus, he couldn’t come to terms with Sally—whatever those were—when he was on the road.

  “I negotiated top money and added another show when I could. We had extra travel days built in, so the new dates worked. Extra money, no extra travel.”

  Jack felt his anger slip rein. “Extra work, Mitch. You didn’t mention that.”

  “I built in down time with the promoters.”

  “You shoulda asked first.”

  Mitch rubbed his hand over his wiry hair. “Have you checked your messages? I called. Everyone else is cool with the added dates. Besides, the second shows are already sell outs.”

  Jack studied the floor. “Okay, then.” He looked each of his long-time friends in the eye in turn. “I’m telling you now, though, I won’t tour again.” He paused. “This is my last go round.”

  Everyone froze. “I’ll make albums with you as long as Mitch gets us contracts and you want me. But no more tours.”

  “Shit, I wish I’d known that.” Mitch scratched his head. “We coulda added more cities.”

  Jack glared at their manager.

  Mitch held up his hands, palms out. “Just kidding, Jack. We all heard you making noise about not touring, but we thought you’d get restless and want to go out again.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. I’m done. I know what I want and it’s not what I’ve had. You all have families. My son is getting married at Thanksgiving. You know what I’m saying.”

  Mitch said, “Shit, man, the media is gonna eat this up.”

  He shook his head. “Not a word. I don’t want the info about this being my last tour leaked. After the tour is over, fine. But not before. Or during. And don’t even consider mentioning Carlos’s identity or wedding. Agreed?”

  Jack heard variations of “We’ll keep it quiet.” A niggling fear hit his spine but he tamped it down.

  “Look, I know we’d have gotten more money with a last tour billing, but I can’t spend what I’ve already got, can you?”

  His friends grinned and shook their heads.

  “Hell,” Tony said. “We’ll have more fun this way, putting something over on the press for a change.”

  Jack picked up his guitar. “You said it. Let’s kick ass.”

  ****

&nb
sp; Sally had thought she’d breathe easier with Jack in Atlanta. She’d hoped that planning a wedding with Abby would distract her. Help her forget. The opposite occurred.

  The looming wedding dance with Jack took position front and center in her thoughts. How could having his arms and unique scent surrounding her again, even in public, be a smart idea?

  Their recent shared kisses had about sent her into the stratosphere. She’d decided a kiss—or two—would immunize her to his presence. What had she been thinking? Talk about stupid moves. The way he’d responded had ignited a fire that still burned. Neither of them had mentioned the kisses, and she wouldn’t. She couldn’t, even if she’d like to know if her reaction to him had been more a blast to the past than anything. Especially after she’d seen their old family photos on his piano.

  Dang Carlos and Abby. Why had she agreed to the dance? Not that she had. Abby had taken her inability to speak as a positive answer. Of course, the tradition was for the parents to exchange partners, so she could do the pretty then move on to Abby’s father.

  Her one satisfaction came from knowing Abby’s parents had less a wish to dance together than she did with Jack. Abby said their acrimonious parting had made the top ten list of all-time worst divorces.

  Her thoughts turned to the Stephens family. Abby had warned Sally, but the reality proved worse. Abby’s mother had attempted to disrupt the wedding plans during the announcement call Abby had made using a speakerphone. She hadn’t even asked to meet Carlos, instead mentioning her daughter’s poor choice of partner, apparently based solely on, what? His name? The woman was a professional menace.

  Her heart pounded, her blood pressure spiked given the flush that covered her arms and prickled her neck. She’d promised Abby she’d help keep their plans on track, but her mother-in-law counterpart made academic power plays look like grade school playground bullying. So far Abby had found ways to either compromise or stand firm, but the stress showed in her face.

  As if conjured, Abby entered Good Vibes. The metal bell above the door clanged wildly. Abby’s aura showed jagged streaks of angry red.