by Carol Ross
“Hannah, you were right—how could a fish not be happy in a home like this?”
“This is incredible,” Jonah added.
Hannah folded her hands in front of her. “I know. Mrs. Milner is an awesome person—she is literally a genius. She has patents on pump mechanisms for fountains and aquariums.” Hannah gestured at the pond. “Everyone thinks her money came from her husband, but it didn’t—she earned it. I mean, Mr. Milner did well with their investments, too, but most of this came from her hard work.”
Shay relished hearing the passion in Hannah’s voice—learning, appreciating, enjoying things that weren’t snow-covered.
“You two can have a seat over here.” Hannah pointed toward a pair of matching chairs and a small round table by the pond. A single candle in a blue glass plate flickered in the middle of the table.
“By the way, this all came about because Mrs. Milner told me she wanted to do something to thank you for being so accommodating to Mr. Takagi, and for housing her koi. Jonah was trying to decide where to take you for a date—someplace private, and I thought of this. I hope you like it, Shay. I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me, too.”
“Hannah, you didn’t have to go to so much trouble. You’re my sister—I’d do anything for you. And you’re the one who took care of the koi. Mrs. Milner should be thanking you.”
Hannah grinned. “I know that, Shay. That’s why I wanted to do something for you—you do stuff for everyone. And don’t worry—she has. Now, sit down and have a glass of wine. I’ll bring out your salads in a few minutes.”
Shay suddenly felt awkward. What were they doing? This was too romantic—too intimate. Jonah probably hadn’t realized what Hannah had planned. Her gaze flicked around nervously until she noticed that Jonah was watching her. She settled her eyes on him.
He grinned in that lopsided, playful way that Old Jonah used to. Her heart executed an official flutter, and that was when she knew she was in trouble.
Jonah took her elbow and guided her to the table. He pulled out her chair and she sat, wondering what he might be up to as he lingered behind her. Then he brushed the hair away from her neck, bent and kissed the spot he revealed. Just like that—one quick kiss and she was left with a warm feeling throughout her entire body.
He sat and took a corkscrew to the bottle of wine that had been chilling in a bucket. She watched him and felt a mix of disconcerting emotions taking hold of her again—equal parts of fondness, attraction and panic. Then she was struck with a thought—why hadn’t he ever gotten married? He was smart and funny, rich and successful—good-looking. Yes, he could be extremely, annoyingly confident at times.
He was also materialistic and self-centered; although to be fair he did have the means to be. As a single guy what else did he have to spend his money on? And he was extremely generous with his money where his gramps was concerned and to various charitable causes according to Caleb.
Over the years Shay had silently criticized him for buying Caleb stuff; he was always ordering things and having them sent to his house—oversize television, laptop, e-reader, ice-maker, bicycle, fishing poles...
She could probably name a hundred things like that that he’d done for Caleb over the years. And she’d been particularly harsh about the washer and dryer he’d wanted to buy. Why was she so cynical about him being generous with his money? She’d always viewed these actions as a substitute for his time, but she supposed they could also be seen as gestures of his affection. Lots of wealthy people weren’t generous with their time or their money and some of the poorest people she knew were the most giving. Greed knew no socioeconomic bounds—and neither did generosity.
He handed her a glass of wine and she took a sip.
“This is really nice, Jonah. Thank you. I can’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed.” Sort of, she added silently, or she would be if he wouldn’t stare at her with those blazing blue eyes of his.
“I wanted to do something special for you. And, like Hannah, I wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me? For what?”
“For taking such good care of Gramps all these years. Hannah is right—you’re always taking care of everyone else.”
“That’s what I do,” she said lightly, dismissing the compliment. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
Jonah raised a brow in doubtful consideration.
She made a conciliatory face. “Okay, but, I love your gramps—like he’s my own. And he’s really good to me, my whole family.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “But, who takes care of you?”
“Tag, I guess and—”
“I’m not talking about looking out for you. I know you have Tag and Bering for that.” He added an exaggerated eye-snap and she grinned. “I’m talking about the personal stuff.”
Her chest tightened. “What kind of personal stuff?”
“Like bringing you coffee in the morning, setting the DVR so you don’t miss your favorite show, or...buying you licorice when you go to the movies?”
“Jonah, stop—that kind of relationship is not possible for me.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“Shay, just because—”
“Why don’t you tell me who does that stuff for you, then? Why haven’t you ever gotten married? Who’s bringing you coffee, Jonah? And buying you chocolate peanut-butter cups?”
“Peanut-butter cups?” He smiled a slow, sly smile full of affection and heat and suddenly Shay wished she’d never asked.
“I remember stuff, too, you know,” she shot back and had no idea why her tone was defensive.
“That’s good,” he said and the timbre of his voice seemed to flow through her like a current. “I like to remember us, Shay. That brings me to your first question, the answer to which is simple—you. I’ve never married anyone else because of you. In my heart I committed myself to you that weekend we went up the Opal River. I asked you to be my wife. I had a... All we needed was the ceremony, which is all that is as far as I’m concerned—a ceremony.”
Shay was stunned. What was he saying? That he’d never been with another woman? That seemed unrealistic, although she’d never even considered being with another man. Although part of that was because she knew she couldn’t have children...wasn’t it?
“Jonah, um...”
“I know you’re not comfortable talking about us, but I do want you to know where I stand.”
“What do you mean—where you stand?”
“I...I have feelings for you, Shay. I always have, and I’m pretty sure I always will. And I think maybe if we spent more time together we could get to an even better place.”
Shay stared at him dumbly, not knowing whether she wanted to smile or cry. His words made her feel impossibly happy, but that was the thing—that word—impossible. Sadness soaked in along with that word, diluting the happiness, because the fact remained that he never had given her a ceremony—or even a ring.
Instead, a bitter reality had come crashing down on them.
They were two different people who wanted different things. Shay felt a welling of despair. She didn’t want to spoil the moment, but she was too practical not to address the issue head-on.
“But things are just as impossible for us now as they’ve always been. So why say it, Jonah?”
“Because it’s how I feel and because I believe we could work something out.”
“Work something out. How?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. But for now I propose that we spend the rest of the summer together, see how we feel, and let things sort themselves out.”
A niggle of irritation mingled with her already uncomfortable mix of emotions. Relax and chill—like a couple of college kids. It would never work. “Jonah, I don’t think...” She couldn’t bring herself to say what she was thinking. “You’ve given me a lot to take in here.”
“I get that.” He reached over and slipped his hand into hers and Shay nearly crumbled right ther
e.
“Don’t overthink it.”
Shay wasn’t sure what to tell him. Was it possible that he still loved her? Did they even know each other anymore? Her life had been so static compared to his. Not much had changed for her in ten years while he’d been out conquering the legal world, acquiring one “success” after another, making piles of money and living the high life.
And his lifestyle had changed him. Hadn’t it? She’d thought so. For years she’d believed so, but when she thought about his generosity toward Caleb in this new and different light she wasn’t so sure. Then there was his surprisingly cheerful attitude about her sticking him with bingo duty, the lawsuit with Will Traeger, movie night with the Watte kids—not to mention Gary and Ingrid. Oh, what he’d done for Gary and Ingrid alone was worth taking a chance, wasn’t it?
“Give me a chance, Shay,” he added, apparently reading her mind. “Give us a chance.”
She met his eyes and the pleased expression on his face told her he could see her agreement. But as she was ready to say the words aloud Hannah came running into the atrium.
“Shay! Crap, I’m so sorry. But Dad is on the phone.”
“Is it Mom?”
“No, Shay. And this is so unbelievable that I can’t believe I’m even saying it, but apparently there is a woman at Mom and Dad’s house right now who insists she is Uncle Eli’s daughter. Dad says this might mean that a part of the inn is hers or something... Shay, how could that be?”
Shay took the phone, pressed it to her ear, and felt her entire world begin to tip over.
* * *
CONCERN BUZZED THROUGH Jonah as he watched Shay’s face turn white. He squeezed her hand.
“Dad, don’t do anything. We’ll be right there.” She lowered the phone.
“Shay, I’m sure—”
“Apparently she has some documents. We need to get over there.”
Jonah’s brain shifted into attorney mode. “I’ll drive you.”
“You don’t need to get involved in our family problems.”
“Shay, I want to. Besides, I have a feeling this could easily escalate into a legal matter.” Something kept him from mentioning that he already knew this to be true.
She stood, then leaned over and blew at the candle. The fire flickered and resisted her attempt. She tried again, but it only seemed to fan the flame.
Jonah placed an arm around her shoulders and then reached over with his free hand and snuffed the wick between his fingers. Now, if only he could just as easily deal with the fire that Adele had started...
* * *
BY THE TIME Shay, Hannah, and Jonah arrived at her parents’ house, the rest of her siblings were already gathered. The youngest three, triplets—Seth, Iris and Hazel were all still in college and had only recently returned home after spending part of their summer break in Europe.
Their parents, Ben and Margaret, were seated on the plush gray sectional that had been delivered the week before. Her parents had been doing some remodeling and the house still smelled of new furniture and construction. Tag sat next to their mom. Seth and Iris were seated on the other branch of the sofa, with Hazel perched on the arm next to Seth.
And Adele? Why was Adele here?
Adele was sitting on the damask-covered antique wingback chair that no one ever sat in because it was so uncomfortable. Their mom refused to get rid of the chair because it had belonged to her grandmother.
“Shay,” her mother cried when she and the others walked in. “Thank goodness you’re here.”
“What’s going on?” Shay looked around for the dangerous usurper. “Who is this woman? Where is she?”
All eyes turned toward the uncomfortable chair.
“Adele?”
Adele was sitting up straight, one leg crossed over the other, hands folded demurely in her lap. “Hello, Shay. Hannah.”
“Yes,” Margaret said. “Adele believes she is Uncle Eli’s daughter.”
“Dad?”
The look of utter shock on her father’s face, Shay decided, meant he definitely thought this claim might be genuine.
Adele began speaking, “This is not going well so far...I need to explain. My mother’s name is—was—Stella Mason. She passed away six months ago. She only told me about my father a short time before she died. I never knew my father. I grew up believing that I didn’t have any family, except my maternal grandparents. They’re both gone now, too.”
“You poor thing,” Margaret said.
Shay looked at her mom, astounded by the depth of her mother’s compassion in this bizarre, surreal moment.
“Are we supposed to accept this—just because this woman says so?” Seth chimed in.
Hannah was upset—Shay could see it. And she was sure everyone could hear it when she started to talk. “This is really awkward, Adele. Shay hired you at the restaurant. I thought we were friends. Why didn’t you say something sooner? And I don’t understand how any of this means you are somehow entitled to a share of the inn.”
All eyes turned toward Adele again.
Adele looked at Jonah. “Would you excuse us for a minute, Mr. Cedar?”
“No, I will not, Ms. Mason. As Shay’s attorney of record and knowing what you’re about to reveal I will not do that.”
Shay turned toward Jonah as a cold feeling of dread rolled through her. How could Jonah possibly know about this? “Jonah?”
“Shay, listen—”
But Shay shifted her attention toward Adele as she began speaking again.
“Hannah, I didn’t say anything initially because I didn’t know how you would all react. I was going to, but then after talking to Jonah I wasn’t sure if you would believe me. Though now that I’ve gotten to know some of you—particularly you and Shay, I knew I couldn’t let any more time pass solely because of my fears.
“My mother revealed to me before she passed away that Eli James was my father. I didn’t think much about it at the time because my mom was dying and that’s all I was concerned with. However, once a few months went by I started doing some research and obviously it led me here.”
“But Uncle Eli?” Shay’s sister Iris said. “I still don’t see the connection between Adele being his daughter and Shay’s inn.”
Adele took a deep breath and continued. “There’s a chance that through my father I might partially own the land that the inn is built on.”
There was only a beat of silence and then chaos erupted. Everyone started talking at once and asking questions. Hannah was bombarding Shay with commentary, her mom was crying and her dad sat frozen and silent. Tag was peppering Jonah with questions and the triplets were talking amongst themselves.
Shay stared at Jonah because the idea of losing the inn wouldn’t compute. Was it this simple? Could her entire life be taken from her faster than she might even process the information?
For some reason all Shay could think about was the fact that Jonah had somehow known about this and not told her. Jonah steered her down the hall and into her old bedroom. Her parents used it as a guest room now, but some of Shay’s stuff was still there.
She glanced at the shelf on the wall where her basketball trophies sat—Most Valuable Player two years in a row. If only life could remain as carefree and simple as it had been back then. Things certainly weren’t simple anymore.
And now she might have to hand her inn, or some share of it, over to this woman—this...this stranger that she’d hired at the restaurant but knew virtually nothing about? And whose fault was that, a little voice chimed from the back of her mind. She recalled Jonah’s chiding that day, after he’d found out that she’d hired Adele. That thought brought forth another: he’d known. Already at that time—he’d known about Adele’s true identity.
How long had he known?
“Shay—look at me.”
She did. “You knew I could lose the Faraway and you didn’t tell me?”
“I couldn’t tell you. It would have been a breach of client confidentiality.”
&
nbsp; Her voice went up several decibels. “She’s your client?”
“No, she made an appointment to see Gramps and that was when we thought he was ill. Adele’s attorney in Utah referred her here—to Gramps. She came into the office assuming Gramps would help. I was there instead. She told me who she is, or who she claims to be, but as soon as I realized what she was up to, I told her that we—I—could not represent her. But everything we discussed that day would fall within the attorney-client privilege. It would have been unethical for me to have told you anything.”
“Unethical? I can’t—” She bit off the rest of that sentence. But it wasn’t easy because she wanted to tell him that she thought keeping this information from her was unethical. That the way he’d always chosen his career over her was unethical. But she knew that saying the words would be pointless. Jonah was an attorney first and foremost and this proved absolutely where his loyalties dwelled. Stupid. She’d been stupid and careless to even consider opening her heart to him again.
“Yes—unethical. Meaning I could be disbarred. Shay, please—I can see you shutting down. Inside—you’re turning away from me. Don’t do this—please. Not this time. We need to communicate, remember? If this ordeal with Gramps taught us anything—it’s that. My experience with Gary and Ingrid taught me that, too.”
Shay didn’t really hear him and she couldn’t seem to find any words. She just felt so cold and her head was swimming. The sensation reminded her a little of how she’d felt for all those weeks after she’d lost the baby and tried to accept that there would never be another.
He stepped toward her and took her hands. “Shay, you’re shaking.” He started to wrap his arms around her but she stepped away.
“No. Don’t touch me anymore, Jonah.” By sheer force of will she somehow managed to move back. She had to get away from him. She wasn’t going to fall for the Old Jonah routine again. She had to accept that he no longer existed.
“I know you’re upset about this, but Shay, it’s going to be fine, I promise. I will help you, okay?”
She nodded and willed the tears not to fall. She wanted to be strong even as she craved the feeling of Jonah’s arms around her. She imagined this frustrating push and pull, this want and not-want sensation must be similar to that of a drug addict without their fix. And just as unhealthy she told herself. But the yearning was so strong that she reached her hands out and placed them on the dresser to keep herself from seeking the comfort of his embrace. She couldn’t let him touch her and make her believe everything would be okay.
