Almost a Family

by Donna Alward

  When Jason pulled into Kim’s driveway, Molly said softly, “If you’ll take the keys and open the door, I’ll get Sara.” She was happy now that the little girl was between them, running interference. Having him walk her alone to the door would be too tempting, too frightening.

  He held the door open wordlessly. Molly lifted the sleeping girl out of her seat and carried her gently into the house, sliding past Jason without meeting his gaze. Blearily, Sara woke as Molly tried to slide off her boots and winter jacket with as little fuss as possible. “Shh,” she whispered. “We’re home. Let’s get you up to bed.”

  She looked at Jason as she hefted Sara into her arms again. “I’m putting her to bed. Thanks for the lift. You don’t have to stay.” Her voice coolly dismissed him.

  He shut the door behind him, and she heard his truck start as she got to the top of the stairs. Then it finally dawned on her that he hadn’t spoken one single word since leaving the hospital.

  *

  Jason slipped off his white coat and hung it on the hook on the back of his office door. All day at the clinic he’d seen clients and their pets, ordered lab tests, smiled and joked with his staff. He’d eaten a quick ham sandwich in the kitchenette in the basement, then had taken an hour to run the deposit to the bank and make a drop-off at the lab. An ordinary day.

  Every minute of that ten-hour day, he replayed last night’s kiss.

  What had he been thinking, anyway? Molly wasn’t the same Molly he’d fallen in love with as a teenager. He’d known that the minute he’d opened the door to her.

  She was a hotshot lawyer now, making scads of money with a high profile oil and gas company. She’d waltzed back home in expensive clothes and an exclusive attitude. She didn’t realize she’d become snobby, he was sure of it. But the years away had changed her. She acted like being back east was something to be tolerated. Like it was a little behind in terms of progress and sophistication. When she’d left for bigger and better things, she’d made it clear that Fredericton, that Jason, wasn’t good enough for her. She hadn’t wanted the life that he’d planned for them.

  Yet for a moment, when he’d reached around her to unlock her door last night, he had been transported back to nearly a decade before. The smell of her hair, the feel of her body as she’d leaned back against him, just a little. Something they’d done a hundred times before. He’d nuzzled her hair and, carried away with the moment, had pressed a small kiss to her scalp, her ear. He hadn’t expected her to turn and kiss him. He hadn’t expected to kiss her back.

  He hadn’t expected it to feel like she’d never left.

  The staff had all gone home, and it was only Jason and the kenneled animals left in the quiet building. He gave them one last check, then turned off the reception lights and set the alarm. He took out his key and, in the frosty air, turned it to latch the deadbolt. His breath formed clouds and he remembered the feel of her cold lips against his. That feeling, her taste… They were as familiar as if they’d been happening every day for the past six years. Kissing Molly had raised his pulse to a nervous hammering, had opened his heart until something similar to hope had slammed in.

  He hadn’t thought there was any room for hope in there anymore.

  He knew there wasn’t hope in there for Molly.

  He shook his head and started up his truck, letting it warm up before putting it into gear. Kissing Molly had been a terrible mistake. Because hope was the last thing she could give him. And it was the last thing he wanted. She would only hurt him again. He knew that as surely as he knew he’d never truly gotten over her.

  He entered the dark house, feeling a little lonely. He sighed, cursing Molly’s return. For a few short days, it’d been nice to have Sara there with him, her bubbly chatter filling up the empty space and giving him a purpose.

  All those years ago, he’d dreamed of coming home to Molly at night, to a warm, cozy house and their children. It had broken his heart to suddenly realize she didn’t want those things, not the way he did. As time had gone on, he’d nearly forgotten how much he longed for a family of his own until the last few years, living next to Kim and Sara. Sara was a dream child—bright, precocious, darling. As he turned on the light, Bubbles trotted over. The little ball of white fluff was insanely happy to see him. He crouched and ruffled the dog’s curly fur.

  “Hey, you.” He chuckled as the dog pushed her head against his hand. “You hungry?” He stood, filled the dog’s dish from the bag in the cupboard and got her fresh water. It was nice having her here. The cats… They didn’t seem to care much one way or the other when he got home. They only came running when he opened their food. But Bubbles greeted him every night. It was a poor substitute for a family, but he’d take whatever he could.

  Heading to the fridge, he noticed the light flashing on his phone and stopped to push the button for his messages.

  “Hi, Uncle Jason. It’s Sara. Can I come see Bubbles tonight? Okay. Bye.”

  He smiled at the brief, uncomplicated message. Lonely didn’t begin to describe how he’d felt recently. Sara was like a little ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.

  But Molly would have to bring her over.

  He took his hand off the phone. He had to get over Molly once and for all. Seeing her was torture, but he wasn’t going to let that keep him from seeing his favorite girl.

  Setting his lips, he picked up the phone and dialed.

  *

  He’d just finished eating a piece of sloppy, microwaved lasagna when the doorbell rang. Pushing his plate to the side, he rose to answer it, and his heart skipped a beat as he opened the door to see Molly with Sara in her arms. Molly’s hair was pulled back in a simple, girlish ponytail, the ends trailing on the collar of her coat. Her cheeks were pink from the cold above the striped scarf wrapped around her neck. Sara’s face was close to hers, close enough for Jason to see the resemblance—the blonde hair, same shaped eyes and the bow of their lips. By appearances, Sara could have been theirs, his and Molly’s. Jason pasted a smile on his face to hide the quick stab of regret. “Hey, sweet thing. Let’s go see if Bubbles is in the backyard.”

  He took Sara from Molly’s arms and said quietly, “Come on in, make yourself at home.”

  He left her there, taking off her coat, while he carried Sara to the back door. Sara waited while he opened it and whistled, and a white, cold, snowy ball of fluff barreled into the house.

  “Bubbles!” Sara sat happily on the floor while her puppy joyously licked her face.

  “Why don’t you take her out on the porch and play with her toys?” Jason suggested as Molly entered the kitchen.

  “Can I, Aunt Molly?”

  He looked at Molly, surprised that Sara had thought to ask permission. By the startled expression on her face, he could tell Molly was as taken aback as he was.

  “Sure.”

  The two disappeared and within seconds giggles and squeaks from plastic toys erupted from the sun porch. Jason went to the table, removed his plate and took it to the sink. “So.”

  Molly laughed a little, tightly. “So. How was your day?”

  Jason’s eyes slammed shut as he kept his back to her and leaned against the sink. Such a normal question. But a question he’d once expected to hear every day of his life from this woman. The more she was around, the more he was reminded that she’d walked away from a life together. A life he’d wanted but she hadn’t. Their life.

  “It was fine.”

  Molly walked over to the door to the porch as uncomfortable silence fell between them, heavy and anxious. He stared at her stiff back.

  Jason sighed. “Actually it was terrible. I’m sorry, Molly, I never should have kissed you last night.”

  Molly sighed, and the sound was filled with relief as she turned back to him. “I think I kissed you, but I agree it was a mistake.”

  They were in agreement. The words shouldn’t have hurt, but they did. He met her gaze evenly. “It won’t happen again.”

  “That’s good. I came ho
me to look after Sara and to help my sister. I don’t need complications.”

  “I’m a complication now? How flattering.” He didn’t try to hide the bitterness in his tone.

  Molly shoved her hands in her jeans pockets. Even in casual clothes, her manner of speaking, her posture, exuded control and purpose. She wasn’t the carefree teenager he’d fallen in love with. She was every inch a corporate lawyer. He was surprised that it held a little attraction for him.

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” she amended. “I only meant that I’m here for a short time and for a specific reason. In two and a half weeks, I’m flying back to Calgary and the life I left behind there. We both know that’s the truth. We have to act accordingly.”

  “Does that life in Calgary include a relationship?” He turned to put his plate in the dishwasher, making his tone deliberately casual.

  Molly’s brow furrowed. “I can’t see how that’s any of your business.”

  “You’re right. It’s not. But I’m curious anyway.” He shut the fridge door. “Is there anyone special?”

  Molly thought about Christian. She supposed they could be construed a couple in the loosest sense. They attended company functions together, filled an appropriate need in a world that moved conveniently by twos. But there was no passion, no commitment between them. And they both knew it. It was how they wanted it.

  “I’m not in love, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Why?” He leaned back against the counter, and Molly was struck by the fact that Jason hadn’t changed, not that much. He was still calmly, coolly logical. Still sure of himself. And still sure he was right. He was simply an older version of the young man he used to be.

  The young man she’d been in love with. She sat down at the table. Her first lover, and now he was prying into her personal relationships, somehow making her feel like something was lacking. Like she was lacking. It would be awkward under the best circumstances; under these, it was torture.

  “I beg your pardon?” The words were icy and her lip curled as she looked up at him. He’d lost the right to pry long ago.

  “Don’t get all in a knot. I’m just curious. What’s preventing you from being in love?”

  She laughed sharply. “Lack of decent men out there?” At his pointed glance, she relented. She simply wasn’t up to having another argument. “Oh, I don’t know as anything is preventing me. I suppose I’m too busy. Things are usually so crazy at work, I either stay late or take stuff home with me. I don’t have much of a social life.”

  “And that makes you happy?”

  Their gazes locked for long seconds as the question echoed through the room. Was she happy? With her eyes drowning in his dark chocolate ones, she remembered lazy Sunday afternoons when they’d never even bothered dressing. They’d eaten omelets and toast and had studied in bed until the feel of his hand tracing circles on her calves had grown so distracting they’d take a “study break.” Their lives had changed so much, but was she any less happy?

  As they gazed deeply into each other’s eyes, Molly knew she had to break the spell. They’d both agreed that kissing had been a mistake. The way they were looking at each other now made her want to leap at him and start undoing the buttons on his shirt, getting to the warm skin underneath. Which would solve nothing. She cast her eyes downward.

  “Sure, I’m happy. It’s what I always dreamed of.”

  Without asking if she wanted any, he filled the coffee pot and measured grounds into a filter. “I work ten- or twelve-hour days and come home to an empty house. I know what that’s like. It’s damned lonely.”

  “That’s you. This is what I wanted, what I chose.”

  He didn’t answer, and her fingers fiddled with the corner of a woven cream-colored placemat. It may have been what she’d chosen, but she couldn’t admit to him that, truthfully, she’d never met anyone who had measured up to the standard he had set. He’d been her ideal—dark and handsome, kind, ambitious, an attentive lover. Yet his strength, his utter conviction, had been a few of the reasons she’d had to leave.

  The coffee gurgled and spat as it brewed into the carafe. Sara could be heard giggling with Bubbles in the porch.

  Jason filled a mug with the coffee and placed it, black, in front of her, then with a small smile put a sugar bowl and carton of coffee cream beside her right hand. “You always did put your career ahead of relationships.”

  She added sugar and cream, stirred, put down the spoon and stared up at him. “That’s unfair. You wanted to chase your dream and expected me to fit in your plans where you wanted. What I wanted didn’t matter. You refused to hear me, to see that my way could have worked, too.”

  “I heard you loud and clear. You made a choice and it wasn’t me.” He took another cup out of the cupboard for himself, his body language relaxed but tension flickered in his tone.

  She pushed away the coffee and her voice rose. “You’re still as bullheaded as ever. You still don’t get it. It didn’t have to be a choice. We both could have had what we wanted.”

  “A wife going off to a school half a country away isn’t my idea of a marriage.” He slammed his mug down on the counter, his voice agitated.

  “And demanding to have everything your own way isn’t any kind of marriage or partnership. I believe that’s called a dictatorship!”

  Sara showed up at the door to the kitchen, her little mouth pursed. “Stop fighting.”

  Jason was immediately contrite and went over to kneel in front of her. “Sorry, muffin. Your Aunt Molly and I were just talking. Hang on a sec.”

  He reached into a cupboard and took out a small red foil bag. “Here. I’m going to give you these for Bubbles.” He took out three dog treats that looked like bacon and ripped them in half so there were six pieces. “We’re not fighting, okay?”

  Molly hid behind her coffee cup, taking several short sips and watching Jason deal with Sara. He was so much better with her than she was, and that made her angry, too. She somehow always felt like she was in the wrong. Like she always measured up short. It infuriated her that he was the only person who could make her feel that way.

  Sara nodded, then disappeared back around the corner.

  “What I do with my life now is none of your business,” Molly hissed, keeping her voice low.

  “You’re absolutely right. I lost that right the day you walked out on us.”

  Molly placed her forehead on her right hand in exasperation. That day, he’d never understood that he shared the blame, and obviously he still thought he was completely innocent. “You still think it was all my fault. You think you’re completely blameless. Sir Jason the Perfect.”

  “I asked you to marry me. You were the one who said no.”

  “Even you know it’s not that simple. You presented me with an itinerary of our lives for the next ten years, then wondered why I didn’t go for it.”

  His eyes threw daggers at her. “I offered you everything. You tossed it in my face! Now you come back to save the day. Good old Molly. If there’s a job to be done, she’s gonna do it, right? And boy, is she ever going to make herself look good. And when it’s over, you’re gonna leave. Because that’s the other thing you do really well.”

  Molly pushed back her chair and stood, her hands on her hips and her lips thin. “You couldn’t be more wrong. You’re jealous. You’re jealous because I came home to look after Sara and Kim, and that’s your job, right? Dudley Do-Right is outdone by the woman who did him wrong. Not everything in life is a competition.”

  “If that isn’t pot calling kettle.”

  “I call it as I see it, if you remember,” she retorted.

  “Be careful,” he ground out between clenched teeth as they squared off.

  She sniffed. “You tried to run my life once before. I didn’t let you then, and I won’t let you now. Get over yourself.”

  “Right back at ya.”

  She stared for a long moment, breathing heavily from anger and frustration, their argument fir
ing her blood almost as much as his kiss had. She was appalled with herself for thinking how she’d love to close the distance between them and kiss him senseless. Rip off his clothes. She wondered if the sex would still be as spectacular…

  Whoa. Too far. Time for a strategic retreat.

  Spinning, she stormed to the porch. “Sara, say goodbye to Bubbles, honey. It’s time to go.”

  “Aw, do we have to?”

  Absolutely. “’Fraid so, kiddo. Gotta get you ready for bed. It’s seven-thirty already.”

  Without saying a word to Jason, Molly stuffed Sara’s arms and legs into her coat and boots with terrifying efficiency.

  She opened the door, taking Sara’s hand. Sara half-turned and called back, “Bye, Uncle Jason!”

  Molly heard him call something, but she was too busy towing Sara across the yard to listen to what it was.

  *

  Molly flipped through the third file of the day and sighed at the cream-colored stack that still remained. This was the first time she’d had a chance to open her briefcase. Looking after one three-year-old was proving to be more challenging than negotiating land leases and royalty contracts worth millions of dollars.

  She closed the file and slid her laptop over on the kitchen table. Clicking on her e-mail button, she waited what seemed like forever for her messages to download. Kim had a computer, but her internet access was spotty. Molly poured herself another cup of coffee while she waited. She opened a message from a colleague, but the words didn’t register. All she could see were Jason’s furious eyes as they’d argued.

  So many feelings left to simmer. Molly supposed it was inevitable they’d vent them now after leaving them unresolved. But she hadn’t been prepared for the reality of dealing with him again and confronting all those feelings. It was proving to be more intense than she could have imagined.