****
In the hotel suite, they grabbed drinks from the mini-bar and chatted together until Carlos and Abby retired.
Jack grabbed a battered guitar she recognized as the one he used when they were married. “I’ve got a new song I want to play for you. I’d like your opinion.”
The intro caught her heart along with her attention. He segued into another rhythm and began singing about old love that stood the test of time. About a couple growing old together. Her heart stuttered.
He ended the song, turned, and took her hands in his. She knew his inhalation had pulled all the air from the room because her lungs couldn’t find oxygen. Calloused finger pads moved across the backs of her hands, causing a shiver along her spine.
“I had a speech prepared, but all I can say is, I love you. I’ve loved you since I first saw you in that long, flowing dress, standing in the mud at Woodstock. Sally, I was too stupid to know what I, we, had, but I do know we can have something better. Will you believe my life isn’t all rude reporters and invasive news stories? I don’t want that night in Charlotte to be the last time we make love together.”
Her brain stopped working.
“Sally? It’s never too late to love. Anything is possible, at any age. Just, you know, I’d like to take that chance sooner than later.”
“I—” I don’t know what to say.
His palm lightly cupped her chin. “Are you in there?”
“Ahh—” Holy Goddess. This could be my last chance.
“Now you’re scaring me.”
She felt his hand on her shoulder and a slight shaking motion. His head tipped toward hers. “Sally? Babe? Are you okay?”
He looked blurry. No wonder. Her eyes were wet.
He pulled her against his side, his cheek resting on her head. “I’m such a dumb shit. I guess I shouldn’t have sprung this on you, but I’ve waited so damn long for you already. I don’t want to waste any more time away. Ever.”
Jack had waited for her. Isn’t that what she’d been doing? Waiting? Waiting for her life to begin, for another special man to come along, for romance, companionship, love? His heart beat strong and fast under her ear. She’d been wrong about protecting her privacy above all else. Love took courage and opening yourself to the world.
She looked up and put her hand on his jaw. “Oh, Jack. I do love you, you know that right?” She cleared her throat to rid her voice of the rusty gate sound. “I must be crazy.” Her head felt like an explosion loomed.
He leaned forward, wrapped his hands around the back of her neck and moved his mouth over hers in a gentle and long kiss.
When he released her she had trouble focusing her eyes. He kept surprising her. She wasn’t ready for this, not yet. But could she walk away again?
****
Jack ran his fingers through this hair. Well, her non-answer sucked, unless he counted the kiss as her answer. If so, there was hope.
“Yes,” Sally said.
“What?” He caught his breath. Had he heard correctly?
She lightly squeezed his hands. “I not only still love you Jack, I trust you. I trust you with my life. I believe you will always work to protect me. Carlos and Abby, too.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m tired of fighting, sweetie. Fighting myself as much as you.”
His heart flipped. He wanted to stab his fist in the air, but settled for wrapping his arms around her.
“You got me.” Tears streamed down her face. “Those damn pictures you kept grabbed my heart, but then you wrote a song that tore it right from my chest, I swannee.”
His heart felt too big for his chest. He cupped her cheeks with his palms and swooped in for a kiss. “Babe, I can’t wait to take you anywhere you want to go. Stonehenge, the Great Pyramids, Machu Picchu, you name it.”
Her stomach growled. “How about to the restaurant for a late dinner? I was too nervous to eat earlier.”
“I’ll call down to room service.” He laid an open-mouthed kiss to the hollow of her throat. “I’m all for having dessert while we wait for them.”
“I’m up for that.”
He inhaled her spicy scent and brushed his lips over her temple. “Yeah, do you know what you want me to order?”
“I’ve changed my mind about room service. All I want is you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Do you, Carlos Jonathan Young, take this woman Abigail Grace Stephens, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Sally watched the scene, her heart full to bursting. Late afternoon sunshine entered the windows, throwing a glow around Carlos and Abby. Henry and Bunny sat calmly at their owner’s feet, wedding rings on ribbons loosely tied around their necks. They’d walked in, planted themselves, and hadn’t moved since the ceremony began. She had no doubt they understood their role in the wedding.
Her gaze tangled with Jack’s. He didn’t try to hide his damp eyes from her. With a few more words, their son would be married to the love of his life. She’d lost her belief in happily ever after, but had regained it when Jack returned.
What was marriage between two loving people but the triumph of hope and trust? She glanced at Jack. They’d had plenty of hope but no trust when they’d married. She knew now that while the hurt she’d felt when they split had been all too real, Eleanor had been right. They hadn’t been ready for each other then. They may not make it now, even given life’s lessons. But if they didn’t succeed as a couple, it wouldn’t be because they had no trust or hope.
And that realization was the biggest gift she’d ever given herself or Jack.
Her gaze took in Carlos and Abby’s first kiss as a married couple. Even if she hadn’t been able to read their auras, she’d have thought they glowed. Her throat tightened. She knew Jack planned to perform the song he’d played for her after his last concert in Washington. She hoped she didn’t start bawling when he sang.
She noticed Margaret kept a healthy distance from her ex-husband and his new wife. She knew all about the anger and fear that kept people apart. Maybe, if Margaret were encouraged, she’d dismount her high horse and actually talk to her former spouse. If Sally had enough to drink, she may recommend the action.
After everyone congratulated the newly wedded couple, she moved to Jack’s side. He picked up his guitar and perched at the end of a chair in front of the fireplace.
Carlos and Abby settled across from him, expectant looks on their faces. The rest of the small group found seats and grew quiet.
“This is for the newlyweds, but not only for them. This is for all of us who have—and still do—love. I hope you like the song.”
A quiet intro was followed by the lyrics that affected her more than the first time she’d heard them in the D.C. hotel suite. She stood slightly behind Jack, her eyes closed, swaying to the music.
An intense silence followed the final strum.
“Dad, you are unbelievable. Your lyrics nailed what I feel about Abby.” Carlos turned and planted a kiss on his wife’s lips.
“I agree. We should have recorded you so we could listen to your gift on every anniversary,” Abby said.
Jack reached into his jacket pocket and handed her a small wrapped package. “I think this may do it for you. At least until cds go the way of eight-track tapes.”
“I’ll download the song onto our electronic devices,” Carlos said. “Will you include the song on your next album?”
He shook his head. “Some stuff should stay private.”
Sally put her hand on his shoulder. “Not this, Jack. This song needs to be heard by everyone. It’s for lovers of all ages, sweetie.”
She raised her glass. “A toast.” Waiting for everyone to find a drink, she sent a swift plea for guidance, and the right words, to her spiritual guides.
“To Carlos and Abby. May you forever hold your commitment sacred. May the love you have for each other today grow in exponential ways. And, because my son loves Mr. Spock, may you live long and prosper.”
They clinked gla
sses and drank.
“Oh, and may you give me lots of grandchildren sooner than later.”
****
Jack stood, hoping he wouldn’t screw up the toast he’d worked over. Now the words vanished. Time to wing it.
“My turn, and I’ll second the grandchildren request.” He was gratified with the laughter.
“To Abby, who kicked Carlos’s butt until he called me for the first time.” Over the laughter, Jack winked at his son. “Bet you didn’t know she confided that little nugget. And before you start your first argument as an old married couple, let me say that I am forever indebted to both of you for having the courage I lacked. You taught me that forgiveness is a gift worth both giving and receiving.”
“I also learned that Sally raised one hell of a man.” He raised his glass to her. “Here’s to you, babe.
“The biggest lesson I’ve learned is that love endures. Sometimes when you think it’s gone, when you’ve given up on happiness, love comes out of nowhere and kicks your butt. Finding that person who accepts you no matter what is an incredible gift. Wherever life sends me, that lesson is engraved on my heart. I hope you two never lose the gift of acceptance.”
He saw Marge shifting from foot-to-foot. Her apparent nervousness surprised him, and he sent her an encouraging nod. Maybe she wasn’t the bitch he’d come to expect. He hoped she’d prove him right on that count.
She held up her palm. “I wasn’t sure Abigail—Abby—had made the correct choices. Sometimes we don’t want our babies to grow up and move away. I’m proud of you both and look forward to spoiling grandchildren.”
Abby’s father glanced around the room then straightened. “To the best daughter any man could have. I know I wasn’t the easiest person to live with—” he threw a look at Margaret “—but I aim to do better, starting right now.” He raised his glass. “To Margaret, who gave me the best daughter in history. And to Abby, who turned out beautifully in spite of her parents. Carlos, you became my son today, but if you hurt my little girl, your ass is mine. Oh, and make that demand for grandkids unanimous.”
Laughter bubbled, glasses clinked, and the group’s mood lightened. Jack’s mother took on the hostess role, ushering everyone into the dining room, where appetizers waited to fill hungry stomachs. The dogs followed and took up positions under the table, hoping to score off human clumsiness.
Sally disappeared into the kitchen. He followed her in to the otherwise empty room. Caging her against the countertop, he buried his nose in her neck. “Damn, you smell good.”
She slid her fingers into his hair and stroked his cheekbones with her thumbs. “Likewise, I’m sure,” she replied with an adenoidal voice.
“So, have you decided where you want to travel first? England, Egypt, or Peru?”
“I have somewhere much closer in mind.” She smoothed her fingers over his jaw. “After all, your tour just ended. You must be sick of traveling.”
He tilted his head to the side. “I’ll do anything for you, babe, you know that. Just name the country and we’ll head out.”
“First, I’m wondering what you included in the packet you gave Carlos and Abby. It was too thick to be only a disc.”
“A Christmas trip to the destination of their choice. Carlos mentioned his business drops when the kids are out on break, so I figured they might like a longer honeymoon than the one they’ve got planned.”
Her mouth parted.
He put his finger over her lips. “I’ve got more money than I can spend. Besides, I put both our names on the gift. Let me do this without grousing, please.”
She huffed. “I wasn’t planning to grouse, I was going to tell you the gift is sweet, and I know they’ll appreciate your thoughtfulness.” She went up on her toes to kiss him. “Thanks for adding my name.” She giggled. “I added your name to the gift I gave them, too.”
He leaned back, but kept her caged. “What did you choose for the kids?”
“Tickets to the ghost tours in Asheville, Charleston, and Savannah. With paid B&B reservations and money for meals and drinks. Not that Abby will be drinking much longer.”
“Well, that’s—” He didn’t know how to answer. “Abby, what? Do you mean she’s pregnant? How do you know?”
“Not yet, but soon.” She grinned. “A pixie told me.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Her face beamed with his words. “So, you didn’t tell me. Where do you want to travel first?”
“Stratton Lake. I’ve seen a cottage there with a bathroom I’d maim to have as my own.”
His breath stopped. “You mean you’ll finally let me make an honest woman of you?”
Her eyebrows rose. “I’m already honest, but if you’re referring to marriage, I’m not going there. What I mean is, once a hippie, always a hippie, but this hippie likes fluffy towels and tubs with jets. And that cottage I’ve seen has them both.” She batted her eyelashes. “Along with a groovy hip dude who turns me on.”
He leaned closer and nuzzled her ear. “Has a flower power chick like you ever considered shacking up? To get that bathroom, I mean.”
“Once a hippie—”
He kissed her temples then lightly placed his lips on her closed eyelids. She sighed.
“We should follow our kid’s example and get married.”
She sniffed. “Okay, okay, you’ve made your argument. I’ll live with you, and we’ll see how things go. But don’t get cocky. That’s the only commitment I’ll make.”
He grinned. “You know how much I love a challenge. Especially a cocky one. I’ll have you begging for more.”
“We’ll see.”
No matter how life unwound, this was one challenge neither could lose.
A word about the author…
Ashantay Peters loves escaping into a well-written book. She lives in the mountains of western North Carolina, a happy transplant from the much colder (and flatter) Midwest.
She loves to hear from readers, so please contact her at [email protected].
~*~
Other Ashantay Peters titles
available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
DEATH RUB
DEATH STRETCH
DEATH UNDER THE MISTLETOE
DICKENS OF A DEATH
PIPE DREAMS
Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Déjà Vu All Over Again Page 21
