As I queued up, I noticed a flash of brown waves. I swore I needed to get more sleep. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that was Jane’s hair. I turned to see if my mind was playing tricks on me, but no, there she was, standing in line.
“Hey there. Imagine bumping into you here,” I started, but Jane jumped, clearly startled. She spun around, and taking a moment longer than comfortable, she blurted out, “What are you doing here?”
Not quite the greeting I was hoping for.
I held my cut hand out, and she grimaced.
“I haven’t sorted out a first aid kit yet, so I’m setting that right before I need it again. How about you?”
She looked even more uncomfortable and started to squirm. It took me a moment to figure out what the rectangular box clutched in her hand was. I hadn’t seen one of those up close in a while, and I definitely wasn’t expecting one in Jane’s hands. When understanding dawned, my gaze snapped up to Jane’s.
She looked even more uneasy, as she realized I’d figured it out. I felt floored. After all this time, you would think I’d be over it—No, I guess not.
“So…” I gestured to the package in her hand and fought off the heat rising in my cheeks. Suddenly I was back in Boston, staring at Ainsley. That day was one of the happiest of my life, before she ripped it all away from me.
I shook myself back to the present and focused on Jane. I was here with her. That was over. What the heck was she doing with one of those in her hand?
“This.” Jane held it up a bit, trying to shield it from the other patrons. “Isn’t for me.” Her face sported all shades of red. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it had the power to keep me here in the present, away from those dark, painful memories.
“Next, please.” The pharmacist indicated it was my turn to ring up my purchases. I dumped all of the stuff I picked up on the counter and noticed Jane walk up to the register next to me.
As my stuff was being scanned and bagged, I was distracted by the conversation next to me.
“Are you familiar with this particular kit, ma’am?”
“I’ve used it before, I’ll be fine.” Jane’s squirming continued as she tried to rush the man at the counter, who was intent on walking her through the instructions.
I was so focused on her I nearly walked out without getting my change, and left my paper bag with supplies on the counter. Talk about the rug being pulled out from under you.
We exited the store at the same time, but I noticed Jane’s car was parked on the opposite corner from where my truck was.
“I guess I’ll see you around,” I rushed, gripping my bag and keys, fighting the wave of painful memories.
Jane reached out to touch my hand. When our fingers connected, I felt that familiar spark of electricity. She must have felt it, too, because our eyes met and locked, and I saw that same fire there. As hard as this situation was, this was Jane, the girl I’d known forever. No, woman, and she would never pull the kind of crap on me that Ainsley had.
“It really isn’t mine,” she said, her voice barely heard above the wild pounding of my heart. “I can’t really explain, but I’m sure you will find out soon.”
“It’s okay, it’s none of my business anyway.” Her touch warmed me, but the memories made my stomach turn. I needed to get away from that bag.
“Trust me, I don’t need one of these. I’m sure if I did, you’d be one of the first to know about it.”
Jane’s words had the power to snap me out of my funk. Her words were innocent. Yet, they had me hoping I would be the one to cause her the need for one of those, under the right circumstances, of course. The thought made me grin.
Her face flushed a deep pink as she recalled her earlier words. “That’s not what I meant…” she sputtered. I gave her hand a gentle squeeze and soaked up all the warmth and fire she ignited in me. Her touch was what I needed now to remind me everything was going to be okay.
“I need to get home to Emma and get this”—She held up the paper sack—“to the person waiting for it.” I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard her mutter under her breath, “And before I make an even bigger idiot of myself.”
I let it slide, not wanting to make her feel even more uncomfortable.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” I smiled at her. After helping her in and closing her door, I stepped back until she backed out and drove out of the lot. I walked over to my truck and watched Jane exit the parking lot, replaying what had just happened.
Bumping into Jane like that was an unexpected surprise, until my gaze landed on the pregnancy test. Seeing it in her hand brought back a flood of unwelcome memories. I thought I had moved on from the disaster Ainsley caused. We lost our chance at having a baby. After what Ainsley did, there was no going back.
Moving away from that mess felt like leaving it all behind. What just happened was a hard reminder that I still had issues.
I wanted to put that behind me so badly, but then something as stupid as seeing Jane with a pregnancy test in her hands set those feelings off again, and I felt like I was right back where I started a two years ago.
When I thought of all that happened, I needed to remind myself how far I’d come. I didn’t want to go back to that dark and angry place. I didn’t ever want to go through that hell again.
JANE
At 10:30, just as I was brushing my teeth to go to bed, my phone rang. I checked the caller ID and saw it was Sarah.
“Hey, how did it go?” I questioned her with my toothbrush still stuck in my mouth.
“EEEEKKK,” she squealed like a banshee, “I’m pregnant!” I moved the phone a few inches from my ear to prevent permanent damage to my eardrum.
“AAAHHH, I’m so happy for you!” I shrieked. I couldn’t help it. I was over the moon for her. I noticed a train of toothpaste dripping down my chin, seconds away from hitting my shirt, but I was too excited to do anything more than quickly rub the back of my hand over it to mop up the mess I was making. I should probably take the brush out of my mouth.
“I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it!” she gushed.
“What did Tom say?” I garbled with the toothbrush still stuck in my mouth.
“He actually cried, can you imagine?” Her voice broke on the last word. I bet the pregnancy hormones were kicking in full gear right about now.
“Oh…I can.” Tom was always a softie deep inside that bulky exterior. They had been trying for five years, so it couldn’t have been easy for him, either. He loved Allie more than life itself and had always wanted a big family.
“Lord knows, you both have tried to no end to have more children,” I joked. I felt so happy for them. This was the best news ever.
“Jane!” she rebuked me, but I heard her laughing though her tears. “Anyway, I have to go. Tom is getting off the phone with his folks. But I wanted to call you and let you know after speaking to my parents,” she quickly added.
“Hey, you might want to let Jackson know,” I quickly slipped in there before she hung up.
“O-K-A-Y…why?” she drawled out each letter apprehensively.
“I kind of ran into him when I was picking up your test,” I admitted.
“That must have been fun.” She laughed in true Sarah style. “Who was more embarrassed? You or him?” She snickered.
“It’s not funny, Sarah. I couldn’t stand there with the test in my hands and pretend like it was for me.”
“Course you couldn’t.” She seemed to be getting a real hoot out of my very, very uncomfortable encounter this afternoon.
“Need I remind you I was doing you the favor,” I snapped. “ I needed to let him know it wasn’t for me. And he kind of freaked out when he realized what I was holding.”
“Shoot, I hadn’t even thought about…” Her voice died off, leaving me guessing.
“Huh? What? Why?” I questioned.
She remained silent, always a dangerous thing with Sarah.
“You want me to tell him so he’ll know yo
u aren’t fooling around with Graham?” she teased, but her joke missed its usual punch, like her thoughts were elsewhere.
“Sarah, seriously. Are you kidding me?”
“You’re so easy to tease, you know? Anyway, I’ve got to go. Thanks again for today. After all these years, it’s hard to get my hopes up and buy a test.” She choked up. The hormones were definitely kicking in.
“I know. Anytime, you know that. Don’t forget to talk to your brother. He wasn’t okay about seeing the test in my hand. I had to explain it wasn’t for me.” I tried to help her understand, but she just chuckled.
“Interesting,” she mused.
It was almost as if I could hear the wheels in her mind turning, and I felt uneasy thinking about what trouble this woman could cause with her scheming.
“Tell him, okay?” I shut her off. It was late, it had been a long day, and I wanted to nip that thought in the bud before it could even take shape.
“I’ll tell him. Don’t worry,” she assured me, returning to her more serious tone from earlier. She was reading more into this and enjoying it way too much. “’Bye.”
“’Bye.”
As I hung up the phone, I sat on my bed, stunned. Sarah and Tom were going to have another baby. I was overjoyed for them, but I couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of sadness that suddenly engulfed me. I would most likely never get the chance to have another baby, all my hope of a big family dying with David. I would probably never get to experience the joy they were going through now or feel a life growing in me again. I knew I should focus on how blessed I was to have Emma and that I was much more lucky than most. But that feeling was still there, and it was nagging at me. How I missed David, and the life we could have had.
A single tear spilled from my eye and rolled down my cheek. Soon, another tear followed, and then another. I laid my head down and closed my eyelids whilst these thoughts swirled in my mind.
I must have been lost deeper in my thoughts and not crying as silently as I thought, because I suddenly felt small, stubby fingers wiping my cheeks. “Don’t cry, Mommy. Don’t cry.”
I awoke to see my sleepy six-year-old looking at me with a worried expression and rubbing my back.
“Oh, baby girl, Mom’s okay.” I tried to comfort her.
“Why are you crying?” she pleaded. She seemed lost waking up at night to find her mom crying in bed.
“Mom’s thinking, sweet pea.”
“Nana says you cry when you think of Daddy. Are you thinking of Daddy?” she asked.
“I am,” I answered her.
“Why does it make you cry, Mom?”
“Oh, I wish things were different,” I replied. There was no easy way to answer that question, certainly not to a six-year-old.
“Nana says it’s okay to feel sad sometimes.”
“Did she now?”
“Uh huh. She also said that we are lucky to have each other. That we should be happy we do.”
She looked at me with all of her innocence. If only I could see the world as black and white as she saw it. Maybe every memory wouldn’t fill me with pain and a feeling of loss, like a part of me was missing and my lungs couldn’t fully fill with air. Everywhere I turned, I was reminded he wasn’t there anymore. It had been almost three years, and some days it felt like it was only yesterday he died.
“We are lucky, you and me!” I said. “You make me sooo happy. And I’ll be even happier if you get into bed with me right now and snuggle up real close.”
I opened up the covers for her to hop into bed with me. I soon saw her breathing even out and felt her body relax into a peaceful sleep. That helped me unwind and drift off into a dreamless rest.
Fourteen Years Earlier
Love Love - Amy MacDonald
JANE
Jackson had been gone for three months now. When he first left, I felt my heart break in two. I cried myself to sleep that night I left him on “our” bank of the Hudson, and I watched him leave early the next morning from my window. I didn’t go out and say good-bye to him. I couldn’t. We had our moment the night before, and it could have been the moment for us. But it wasn’t, it was good-bye. Whatever I thought I might have seen hidden in his eyes wasn’t really there. It has taken me months to accept that Jackson and I would always and forever be just friends. I dealt with this fact, but that didn’t mean I liked it.
This year, I was a sophomore in high school and finally sixteen. Although my thoughts often wandered to Jackson, I’d noticed there were some pretty hot guys that tried their best to distract me, one in particular.
Michael Taylor, the guy who sat next to me in my Honors English class, made it his mission to get a laugh out of me each time we were together. Mr. Baker had noticed it more than once, and it had earned us a few warnings so far.
If I was honest with myself, I liked Michael, enough to get over myself and my mopey ways to go out and think about having fun with a guy. And Michael was the right kind of hot to have some fun.
He was a little taller than my five-seven frame, with blond, shaggy hair that had that kind of messy look that totally worked for him. He had a tanned complexion, and with his light blue eyes he looked more like a Californian surfer than a junior at Bellebrook High. Michael was toned, not in the athletic kind of way Jackson was, but he was ripped enough to make a girl stop and look. Some girls might even stop and ogle, but not me. You wouldn’t catch me ogling him (ahem).
Michael and I hit it off that first day in English. I walked in as the bell rang, indicating the start of the lesson. As it was our first period of the semester, Mr. Baker didn’t make an issue of calling me out for being late, but he soon ushered me off to the only available seat, which happened to be next to Michael. I still couldn’t imagine why the seat next to him would have been free, because April Henderson was giving me the stink eye the whole lesson, clearly upset I got to sit next to Michael, the class hottie.
Either way, we ended up being seated next to each other throughout the semester, and he brought a lot of fun to the lessons, especially the ones that would drag on. Mr. Baker was pretty cool, but when he started droning on about a certain point in a poem, he forgot we were even in class, and he entered into his own zone of American literature, not bothering to get us involved in his one-way dialogue. Those lessons would have been unbearable if not for Michael, who would crack a joke or engage me in some ridiculous conversation.
It was in one of those fun conversations he ended up asking me out on a date.
“So I saw The Bourne Identity movie this weekend in the theater.”
His voice picked up a little like it always did when he got all excited talking about a new movie. Michael was a huge movie buff. He probably went to see a movie each weekend and watched whatever he could get his hands on at home. He knew all the classics.
“You don’t say.” I feigned disinterest. I was totally aching to see Matt Damon in an action-packed movie, but no need to feed the fire.
“The special effects were pretty impressive, and Damon makes a very good Bourne.” He sounded like a real groupie.
“A good Bourne?” I stared at him, dumbfounded. All I knew about the movie was that it had Matt Damon in it, and he was all the incentive I needed to watch. I didn’t have a clue what the plot was about.
“Are you kidding me?” Michael looked at me like I had grown two heads. I just stared back at him, waiting for him to clarify.
“You’re serious, aren’t you!” His voice level was picking up, causing Mr. Baker to actually notice the students in the class and look our way. He gave Michael a warning glare.
“I don’t know why you’re getting your panties in a twist, Michael, seriously. Sometimes you are such a girl. Heaven forbid anyone says anything insulting about one of the movies you like.” I really didn’t get what he was so worked up about.
“Oh my gosh, Jane, 1988, Richard Chamberlain, the original Bourne. You have got to be kidding me. You never saw the original?” He gripped his heart, feigning actual
pain.
“Michael…” I waited to get his undivided attention and hopefully none of Mr. Baker’s. “I was like what, four, when that came out? How the heck would I have seen it? And why would I watch it now?”
“You’re killing me here, Pierce.” Michael made a show of clutching his chest again and looking completely insulted.
“I’m sure you’ll get over it, Taylor.” I playfully nudged him in the side.
“We’re going to have to do something about your lacking movie knowledge. I don’t think I can be your English partner if you don’t brush up on your skills, Pierce. I mean it,” he chided.
“I could be convinced into staring at Matt Damon for two hours. This Chamberlain dude, not quite sure.” I didn’t even know who the heck Richard Chamberlain was, but I wouldn’t even share that thought out loud lest drama queen here went into cardiac arrest.
“Such a newbie. I don’t know if we can be friends after you dumping this on me.” I could see the twinkle in his eye. He returned the nudge, his hand lingering on my side. My cheeks warmed under his intense gaze.
“There’s only one way to fix this. I’m going to have to take you to the movies and educate you properly. You free on Saturday night?”
“What makes you think I want to be schooled?” I tried for flirty nonchalance, but with his intense stare and the heat of his hand still burning through my side, I sounded a little breathless.
“Trust me, you need all the help you can get, and I, as a Movie Master, am willing to help you out here. I think the decent thing to do would be to thank me profusely and ask me what time I’m going to be picking you up.”
“Aren’t you a classy gentleman? Your mom never teach you any manners, caveman? That’s not how you ask a girl out on a date.”
The moment the words left my mouth, I realized my mistake. I basically called him out on asking me on a date. He could have been asking me as a friend. There were only two ways this could play out: He could call me out and make a deal about it, or he could let it slide.
“A date, huh?” he said suggestively, wagging his eyebrows at me.
The Songs of You and Me Page 9
