The Girl in the Mirror (Sand & Fog #3)

by Susan Ward

  We stayed two nights in hotel rooms to make the long drive from Pacific Palisades to the Puget Sound easier for me.

  The first night, when Jacob grabbed our suitcases and I’d realized he’d packed for me, I felt a twinge of that upward panic. For a moment I doubted him saying whatever we did would be my choice because, hell, he had packed, booked rooms, called Jane, gotten things ready, and seemed darn determined about this.

  But I worked through the mini attack rather quickly, and the days on the road were the most restful I’d passed in months.

  True, we didn’t share a bed. Double rooms with two queen beds, and without my asking, Jacob had stretched out each night on the one across from me.

  I was surprised it didn’t hurt for him to choose on his own to keep distance from me, but I’d slept, deep, untroubled, dreamless sleep.

  An island becomes clearer on the horizon. It’s lovely, but it doesn’t look like much. If there’s a city there, I can’t see it. I wonder if that’s the island we’re going to.

  “You doing all right, babe?”

  I turn my head to find Jacob holding out a Styrofoam cup of coffee for me. Taking it, I clutch it in my palms to heat my hands.

  “I’m good. I’ve never been in the Puget Sound before. It feels so remote here.”

  Laughing, he leans with his back against the rail, facing me. “I love it here. The feeling of isolation, even if it is only an illusion. It’s a short hop east to Vancouver and short hop south to Seattle.”

  I take a sip of my coffee. “What’s Olga Village like?”

  He smiles, amused. “Pretty much how it looks at the ferry landing.”

  I crinkle my nose. “And Jane knows we’re coming, that you’re bringing me?”

  He arches a brow. “Of course she does. Why do you say it that way?”

  My head tilts. “Ah—because your sister doesn’t like me.”

  “Wrong. Jane doesn’t know you. She’s going to love you the second she meets you.”

  I focus on my coffee and the changing landscape, instead of following up on that one.

  Love me, huh?

  In three years she’s never called me first. I reach out but she doesn’t return the gesture, and at best, Jane only tolerated me whenever we spoke. And now Jacob is dropping on her doorstep with me—crippled, fucked up, emotionally damaged me.

  This ought to be a winner of a first introduction to Jacob’s sister. I start to laugh, infused with a sensation I could nearly term ‘carefree.’ I’m not sure where it’s coming from—this illogical blend of giddy, well, fuck it—except after everything what’s the point in getting worked up over Jane?

  Jacob’s watching gaze brightens. “Why are you laughing?”

  I lift my chin. “I don’t know. I don’t care. I’m just going with it.”

  The color in his eyes deepens. “Laugh all you want. It’s nice to hear you laugh again.”

  A forgotten sensation moves through my flesh out of nowhere, an awareness of him and an awareness of me. New, remembered, glorious and frightening all at once.

  Horns blare and I look away from Jacob, realizing we’re reducing speed and about to dock.

  “Is this our stop?”

  “This is it,” he says, smiling. “Do you want to stay here or go back to the car?”

  I study the empty streets and the few structures there. Not even a village, like a charming rest stop and nothing more.

  “We can go back to the car if you want to.”

  I grab my crutches and follow him to the stairs. He carries me down to the level with the parked vehicles, and then I plant and swing my way to our car.

  “How’s your leg?” he asks, opening the door for me and waiting for me to lean and hand him my crutches.

  “Good.” I make a face. “It’s my arms and shoulders that are sore.”

  He lifts me up to the passenger seat and buckles me in. I can tell he’s thinking something and debating whether to say it.

  He steps back and closes my door.

  After over an hour of narrow, tree-lined roads that pretend to be a highway, through lush vegetation only sparsely dotted by homes, he turns down an even narrower road that heads toward the beach.

  A small community lies ahead.

  “Olga Village?”

  He laughs. “I told you, one-mule town. Village doesn’t quite pass the smell test for honesty in vacation promotion.”

  “People vacation here?”

  “Oh yeah. It’s crowded in the summer. The San Juan Islands are very popular. Especially with people from Seattle.”

  I shrug. “I never heard of them before you.”

  He smiles. “That’s probably because it’s like the poor man in Washington’s Tahiti.”

  It’s nice to hear him joke.

  I crinkle my nose. “I haven’t been there either.”

  “No?” He sounds surprised.

  “No. Always dancing. Never traveling. But the rest of the family have been pretty much everywhere. Even Mom who hates to leave the beach.”

  His lips twist into a smile I can’t easily define. “It’s funny that I should love you so much and know so little about you before me.”

  My heart turns over. “You know everything about me.”

  His gaze locks with mine again. “Not yet. But I plan to.”

  My pulse kicks up, even knowing what I’m seeing in his face is wistfulness and regret. A click, click, click makes me look away from him. The red arrow is flashing in the dash.

  We’re turning into a driveway.

  I stare through the windshield as we go down a bumpy gravel road through un-landscaped acres and stop in front of a small wood house, painted a bright yellow, with a white rail porch tinkling with chimes.

  A quaint, charming storybook cottage cheerfully decorated with beach themes. Large white wicker furniture, a double swing, chimes made of shells, and a door sign with curling numbers and starfish painted on it.

  Not what I expected given it’s where Jane lives. A house that seems more like Jacob than her. Friendly and quiet. She always seemed so morose and unfriendly.

  Jacob lifts me from the car and is retrieving my crutches when I hear, “Hey, bro. You made it,” on a loud, sweetly feminine, excited voice.

  I turn as Jane rushes down the steps and into Jacob’s arms. They hug each other, and watching them makes my insides melt and me feel good that I pushed myself to do this. He’s missed his sister, and hasn’t seen her in too long because of me.

  “You look good, Jane.” Jacob’s smile is enormous.

  She shakes her face in front of her brother’s. “I am good. I’ve told you that. You just don’t believe me. Maybe next time you won’t wait four years to check out for yourself how I’m doing.”

  He narrows his eyes at her, but his expression is playful. “Had to get one in, in the first two minutes, didn’t you?”

  Laughing, she shrugs. “I don’t want you to wait four years to visit again.” She looks around the yard and her smiling hazel eyes settle on me. She hurries toward me as I hobble around the car. “You must be Krystal.”

  “I’m really glad to finally meet you, Jane.”

  We stare at each other, smiling, and while the tension between us isn’t unnoticed, I wouldn’t call it awful either. More like unsure of each other, not friends, but not enemies, and I wonder if that’s a result of her or me—or maybe having both gone through that one thing we have in common other than Jacob.

  “You must be tried from traveling all day,” she says abruptly. “Why don’t I show you where you’ll be staying?” As she gestures me to the door, she looks at her brother. “Grab the bags, Jacob. I’m going to get Krystal settled in.”

  * * *

  “Jacob”

  I hear a soft click and turn my head to see Jane moving from the bedroom to the living room. I sit up on the couch and check my watch. 11:30 p.m. They’ve been talking quietly behind closed doors for four
hours. I couldn’t hear a word, though I wanted to, but maybe it’s better that I didn’t.

  I study my sister’s face—she gives the term poker face an all new definition. “Everything OK?”

  Jane sinks down on a chair across from me. Her expression alters into one of amused annoyance. “She’s fine. Tired. Going to bed.”

  I widen my eyes. “Well?”

  She stares. “Well, what?”

  Fuck. “Did you get along? Did she talk about anything? Was it good? Christ, I don’t know. You’ve been in there together four hours. I’ve been sitting out here going out of my mind, not sure if I should be glad or worried that the two of you were alone for so long.”

  She rolls her eyes, slouching back against the cushions. “What? Are you afraid I’d tell her junk about you that you don’t want your wife to know?” She laughs, then her humor melts to be replaced with annoyance. “Or are you worried I was mean to her?”

  A mild flush betrays me. “No. Not mean. But you can be a touch—”

  She leans forward. “What?”

  “Acerbic.”

  She runs her fingers through her hair, frustrated. “Well, I wasn’t. We talked. Nothing major. It’s all good. She feels welcome here and I think even comfortable and relieved to be on Orcas instead of in California.”

  I nod. “Good. I wasn’t certain dropping her into an unfamiliar environment would be the right thing for her. If she’s comfortable, that’s good.”

  “You worry too much.”

  I exhale. “That’s all I do anymore. Worry about her. Worry about us.”

  Jane gives me a sympathetic pout.

  Fuck, why did I say that?

  “Nice to hear I’ve finally dropped off the Jacob concerned list. And now you can stop worrying about her. Start worrying about you. That’s what she needs.”

  I look up quickly. “Did she say that?”

  She makes an agitated shake of her head. “No, I’m saying that. Listen, you’re the best brother a girl could have, but you can be overbearing when you worry, and it’s a hard thing to manage when someone has a lot of their own stuff to manage. I’m telling you to let her breathe. Don’t treat her differently. Don’t make what happened to her the only thing you have between you.”

  “Are you saying that’s what I did with you?”

  “Yes. A little. It was hard. I didn’t need your worry. I was worried enough about myself.”

  The void I’ve felt since Juarez is now aching. I press two fingers against my forehead trying to bring my body and thoughts back into control.

  “I didn’t realize that was what I was doing.”

  “I know,” she says soothingly. “But she doesn’t need to feel like she’s failing you. She just needs to feel that you love her still.”

  I rub my brow and try to fight back the surging emotion begging for release. “Still? God, did she say that? That she thinks I don’t love her anymore because of…” The words stick in my throat.

  “Not in so many words. But it’s pretty clear that’s part of what she’s feeling. She’s overwhelmed, Jacob. Don’t be one of the things overwhelming her.”

  I sit back against the cushions and stare at the room. “And how do I not be one of things that are overwhelming her?”

  “By seeing only her when you’re with her, I guess. I don’t know. But that’s what I wanted from the people around me back when I was trying to cope with Kevin. Not to have them treat me different.”

  Kevin. The mention of his name makes my guts roil, but Jane says it almost without emotion.

  “I’m going to go to bed. You should do the same. It was a long drive here.”

  “Night, sis.”

  She kisses my cheek and heads to her room.

  I pull my cell from my pocket and swipe it on. No notifications—nope, didn’t expect that—but I shouldn’t delay the call anyway.

  Settling on a swing on the front porch, I hit my contacts—consider FaceTime instead of phone—tap call, then speaker, and wait.

  It rings only once before it’s answered.

  “Yes.”

  Single word.

  Emotionless, though I know Alan knows it’s me.

  My muscles go taut. “Sorry to call so late. It’s Jacob. Did you get the e-mail I sent you?”

  I tensely wait through several moments of silence. “Yes, I did. You’re in the San Juan Islands. Correct?”

  “We took two days driving up the coast. That’s why I didn’t call earlier. We’re on Orcas now. At my sister’s. I appreciated Chrissie and you not burning up my phone or Krystal’s, and giving us some space to be alone for a while together.”

  “Is my daughter well?”

  That edge to Alan’s voice ratchets up my nerves.

  “Traveling was hard on her, but she’s fine. She’s sleeping.”

  “Are you well?”

  Not the questions I expected and not this soft, near inflectionless voice. I frown. “I’m doing all right.”

  “Then you do what you need to do, Jacob, and don’t worry about us. That’s all I needed to hear. We’re here for you both any way you need us to be. We want what’s best for both Krystal and you.”

  Click.

  Blank screen.

  I’m not sure what to make of that.

  It went easier than I thought it would and felt horrible simultaneously. I sit in the dark, my legs absently pushing the swing, listening to waves crashing against the island.

  I feel limp. Weak. But like maybe we’re finally unstuck from where we’ve been, and perhaps Krystal and I can start moving forward.

  Fresh start.

  Fresh location.

  Nothing from the past and no clear future ahead.

  Only us.

  Here.

  Not much of a solution.

  But the best I could manage.

  A small change.

  Please, let it lead to a big change.

  I want the pain to go away. And my wife not to hurt. And our marriage what it used to be.

  Krystal isn’t only the woman I love, she’s my best friend, and without her I feel alone and cavernous inside. Emptiness that at times is suffocating.

  I wait until my emotions drain out of me and I’m in control again, then I go back into the house to our room.

  Krystal’s in bed, pillow against her back, but I can tell by how she’s breathing that she’s awake and only pretending to be asleep.

  Quietly, I undress, leaving on my t-shirt with my briefs. I’d forgotten there was only a double bed in Janie’s spare room. Fuck, with Krystal’s security don’t touch me pillow that leaves me only two inches.

  Not going to work.

  I set my knee on the mattress. “Babe, you haven’t left me any room. Do you want me or the pillow in bed?”

  Silence—fuck, why did I phrase it that way? Stupid, Jacob, you know the answer. You don’t need to hear it. I’m tired or I wouldn’t have said that.

  After a painfully long wait, Krystal turns on the bed and lifts the pillow to me. My breath catches as my gaze meets hers and I quickly take it and lay it on the floor.

  She rolls back on her side, and I ease beneath the blankets and turn off the light. With us both lying there motionless and awake, the minutes tick by agonizingly. She’s close, but we’re not touching, and I’m not sure if she’s ready for that yet.

  Unsure my next stop won’t be the couch, I curl into her back, and she tenses. Gently, I put my hand on her hip and her flesh becomes more agitated. “Please, babe,” I whisper. “I’m only going to hold you, nothing more. I promise nothing more, ever, until you say it’s all right. I know you’re in pain and afraid. I am, too. Fight through the fear of having me close because this time it goes somewhere good. Maybe back to us. Maybe to not hurting so much anymore.”

  Her ragged breathing punctuates the silence in the room, and her tense muscles are coiled like springs ready to flee should I make a move to take this
further.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  I wait and the only response I get is a faint sound as she sobs, her face buried into a pillow. Oh fuck, I’ve made her cry and I didn’t want that.

  I run my hand slowly, barely touching, down her arm. “Shush, babe. I’ll go sleep on the sofa.”

  I start to pull away, my body losing contact with hers, and she turns into me.

  Her eyes are enormous on her face. “It’s not you, Jacob. I love you. I can’t stop the pictures in my head of what they did. When you touch me, I see them, and nothing I do makes it go away. But that’s not the part that makes this hard for me and not want you to touch me.”

  The way she stares makes me want to crush her up against me, but she’s finally talking about this and I don’t want to do anything that might stop her.

  I prop myself on an elbow. “Tell me, Krystal. Everything you’re thinking. Everything you’re feeling. I want to understand so I can be what you need me to be. Whatever it is we’ll deal with it together.”

  Giant drops fall from her eyes. “I can’t bear the thought that when you touch me you see pictures, too. What they did to me. That you’ll not be able to get past that. That you won’t want me. And you’ll leave.”

  Oh God.

  My heart jumps into my throat.

  “That’s never going to happen. I love you. Nothing is ever changing that.”

  Her forehead touches my chest, and the dampness streams from her cheeks onto my skin. “I don’t think I could survive coming face-to-face with the reality that you don’t want me anymore because of what they did to me.”

  “That’s never going to happen, Krystal.” Lightly I brush her hair back with just the tips of my fingers. “I’m touching you now, babe. I see only you. And want only you.”

  “I’m so afraid, Jacob.”

  “I know, babe.” This time I trail my palms down her back, caressing her. “You don’t have to be afraid with me. We can get through anything. We can get through this if we both hold on. I know we can. I know it won’t be easy. Trust me, Krystal. Let me be there for you.”

  “I want to, Jacob. But I can’t find my way out of this. Every day I make it worse for you and I don’t want that. I don’t want to hurt you, but I do and I can’t seem to do things in a way that doesn’t hurt you. And I’m tired of the pain. Tired of failing. My entire life has been filled with pain, pushing toward things that’ve hurt us. Maybe it’s time I just stopped—stopped hurting you and stopped hurting me.”