More Than Words, Where Dreams Begin: Black Tie and PromisesSafely HomeDaffodils in Spring

by Sherryl Woods

  Her tone scared the daylights out of him. He envisioned her matchmaking escalating to whole new heights. “Laurie, please, don’t try to make this into something it isn’t. Don’t romanticize it. It was years and years ago. We were just a couple of kids.”

  She stared at him with utter fascination. “Why’d you break up? Did you fall out of love with her or was it because you met Mom?”

  Trent was flattered that his daughter thought he must have been the one to break things off. Of course, he wasn’t all that eager to disillusion her. In fact, he was pretty tired of the whole topic. He’d rather listen to Laurie spend a half hour discussing the latest fashion trends, a subject that usually sent him into a near-catatonic state of boredom.

  “Sweetie, I am not going to discuss any of this with you. It’s ancient history and doesn’t matter now, but I’m sure you can see why it would be awkward for me to stay on your committee and especially awkward for me to ask Ms. Fletcher to the dance.”

  “But you just said yourself that what happened wasn’t a big deal and it was years and years ago, so why are you backing out now?”

  “Please, let it go. Take my word for it. It would be awkward.” Make that a disaster, he thought grimly.

  “But you promised,” Laurie reminded him. “And this makes it even better, because it won’t be like two strangers going together. You’ll have stuff to talk about. You can reminisce about old times and catch up on everything that’s happened since then.”

  Sure, they could reminisce, Trent thought with an uncharacteristic edge of sarcasm. Jodie could explain why she’d dumped him all those years ago. That was a conversation he could get really excited about.

  “Not going to happen, Laurie. Look, your committee is in really good shape. It sounded today as if everything’s under control. You don’t need me.”

  “But you made a commitment, Dad, and you always tell me that once you make a commitment, you should never, ever back out of it. Even if it’s only something you agreed to do verbally, it’s as good as a written contract.”

  Trent winced at hearing his words thrown back in his face with such earnest faith. He knew when he was beat.

  “Okay, fine. I’ll stay on the committee and I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  “And you’ll take Ms. Fletcher to the prom,” she added as if there were no longer any question about that, either.

  “I seriously doubt that Ms. Fletcher will agree to go with me,” he hedged.

  “But you’ll at least ask her, right?”

  Once again, Trent wished he’d had a son who never listened to a word he said, much less took it to heart. “Yes, I’ll ask,” he said grudgingly.

  He’d just erect a steel barricade around his heart in case Jodie Fletcher wanted to stomp all over it yet again.

  CHAPTER

  THREE

  Jodie lay awake for half the night. Trent had taken one look at her and fled the classroom practically midsentence. The encounter hadn’t gone at all the way she’d anticipated. She’d expected surprise, maybe even a faint touch of dismay, but not the genuine hostility she thought she’d seen just below the polite facade he’d put on in front of the kids.

  Sure, she’d dumped him without any warning, but it had been twenty years ago, for heaven’s sake. And though their relationship had been heading in a serious direction, they hadn’t actually been engaged. They hadn’t even discussed marriage, for that matter. She’d broken up with him before things got that far.

  She sighed. Okay, she was a big, fat liar. The relationship had been serious. That’s why she’d been so scared. That’s why she’d called it off. She’d known that sooner or later Trent would see their differences and break up with her, maybe after they’d gotten engaged or even married. There’d been nothing noble about what she’d done. All these years she’d been lying to herself about that. She’d walked away to save herself inevitable heartache.

  Still, even though the breakup was all on her shoulders, she’d honestly expected him to have forgiven her by now. They’d both gone on to live happy, fulfilled lives with other people. At least she had. She could only assume Trent had, as well. He’d married a far more suitable woman. He was successful and rich. He had an amazing daughter. She’d never imagined him holding a grudge about something that had happened so long ago, something that had paved the way for everything good in his life that had followed.

  She wondered if Laurie had picked up on the tension. She was a smart girl, and Jodie had a hunch she’d involved her father in this project specifically in the hope that he and Jodie would hit it off. She’d seen the anticipatory gleam in Laurie’s eyes the second her dad had entered the classroom, almost as if she were expecting sparks to fly. Well, they had, just not in the way Laurie could possibly have been expecting. Jodie, either, for that matter.

  Annoyed that Trent’s reaction even mattered, she punched her pillow a few times, settled onto her side and tried once again to fall asleep. If she didn’t get at least a couple of hours of decent rest, it would be a very long day. She simply wasn’t one of those people who bounced out of bed on a few hours of sleep, ready to take on the world.

  Unfortunately, even as she tried to count sheep, images of Trent kept appearing. He’d looked good. Really good. His face was a bit weathered from working outdoors, his shoulders thicker, his waist still trim. All the changes had been good ones. Trent was still the most attractive man she’d ever known, pure male, from his thick black hair to his muddy work boots.

  “I have to stop this,” she muttered, and determinedly resumed counting sheep.

  Around the time she counted her five hundredth little lamb, she gave up in disgust. Trent simply wouldn’t get out of her head, sheep or no sheep. She concluded that the only thing to do was to call him and face this whole thing head-on. Even if he did harbor some residual and justifiable resentment, surely he could put it aside for a few weeks for the sake of Laurie and the other kids. If he couldn’t, he wasn’t half the man she remembered.

  Come to think of it, she didn’t remember a man at all, but a boy, really. As mature as they’d thought themselves at twenty-one, it was only with twenty years’ hindsight that she saw how ridiculously idealistic and naive they’d been. For a couple of years they’d convinced themselves that love—okay, passion—was all that mattered. They’d built a future on the quicksand of dreams, not on the rock-solid foundation of reality. She’d just recognized their folly before Trent had. He would have figured it out himself sooner or later, but by then things could have been a whole lot messier.

  A glance at the clock told her it was still an hour before dawn, but it was evident she wasn’t going to get any sleep. She might as well shower, stop somewhere for a decent breakfast and get to her desk early. She had a couple of tense meetings on today’s calendar. Explaining to parents why their children would be attending summer school rather than graduating with their classmates in June was never at the top of her list of favorite things to do. Maybe if she was stuffed with pancakes and plenty of maple syrup, the uncomfortable conversations she was facing would be easier to handle.

  And after those were behind her, maybe she could work up the nerve to call Trent and straighten things out, at least enough to make these weeks before prom bearable for both of them. She wasn’t hoping to pick up where they’d left off years ago—she was far too realistic for that—but it would be nice to have him back in her life as a friend. That was another sign of maturity, she thought. She’d learned to value friendship.

  Unfortunately, something told her it was going to take more than pancakes to work up the arguments necessary to convince Trent of the same thing. In fact, she thought as she sat up and flipped on the harsh light of her bedside lamp, what if she’d misinterpreted his reaction yesterday? What on earth made her think that what happened twenty years ago was so important to him that he might still be angry or h
urt about it? He’d probably forgotten all about it and she was the one who’d be dredging up the past for no good reason. She’d wind up looking pathetic. Talk about humiliating.

  That thought gave her pause, but she refused to back down. They had to talk, find some way to make peace for the sake of Laurie and this project that mattered so much to her. In person would be better than on the phone, she decided. She could tell from his expression just what he was thinking.

  That resolved, she took the time to add a little more mascara to her lashes and a faint hint of blush to her cheeks, something she rarely bothered with. If she was going to make an idiot out of herself with Trent later, then she was going to look darn good doing it.

  * * *

  Trent had been having breakfast at Dinah’s Diner every morning for years. It was the local hangout for long-time residents, and he could get a healthy serving of up-to-the-minute gossip along with his meal. He’d met clients for coffee at the red Formica-topped tables, haggled with subcontractors at the counter. Over the years he’d gotten to know the owner, Dinah Lowery, her two white-haired waitresses—Gloria and Hazel—and the steady rotation of kids who held summer jobs and learned responsibility under Dinah’s firm tutelage. He might be comfortable enough in places with white linen tablecloths and fancy wine lists, but Dinah’s was where he felt totally at ease.

  With a set of blueprints under his arm, he waved to Dinah, then headed for a booth in the corner, his regular spot, only to see that it was occupied, and not by just anyone. He’d know that explosion of dark brown curls anywhere. Jodie. Again.

  This time the annoyance that zinged through him had as much to do with his booth being taken as it did with the occupant herself. Some habits were hard to break and his morning ritual was one of them.

  As he stood there debating with himself, Jodie looked up and a smile broke across her face, then slowly faded at his lack of a responding greeting, verbal or silent.

  “Join me,” she said, her tone turning the words into a command, not a request.

  Trent bristled, but since Dinah had just appeared with his coffee and a questioning look, he opted to sit. If he’d refused the invitation, word of the incident would have been all over town by noon. The interpretations would range from a lover’s tiff to outright rudeness on his part.

  “I’ll be right back with your breakfast,” Dinah assured him, then cast a glance at Jodie. “You need more coffee, hon? I’ll bring that, too. You look like you need it.”

  “Thanks,” Jodie said as if she’d been promised much-needed salvation. Her tired gaze shifted to meet his. “I’m in your usual spot, aren’t I?”

  He shrugged as if it were of no consequence.

  “Sorry. There wasn’t a reserved sign on it,” she said, a mocking note in her voice.

  “People who come here regularly pretty much know.” He skimmed a glance over her. “I haven’t seen you in here before. Or anywhere else in town, for that matter.”

  “Weekdays, I usually eat a banana on the way to work, but I come in here occasionally on the weekends when I have time to splurge on a big breakfast. A couple of my students work here and they recommended the pancakes.”

  He gave her a pointed look. “It’s a weekday.”

  She shrugged. “I got out of the house earlier than usual.” She gestured toward her plate, which was stacked high with pancakes. “This morning I’m on a carb binge.”

  Trent chuckled despite himself because he recalled exactly what had driven her to such splurges, at least in the past. “You planning to have a bad day? I seem to recall that the number of carbs you required during final exams was extraordinary.”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said between bites of pancakes dripping with syrup. “Two conferences with parents who were expecting their kids to graduate. I have to inform them the diplomas will be delayed till after summer school.”

  “Sounds grim.”

  “Not half as grim as the conversation I planned to have after that.”

  “Oh?”

  “I was going to stop by your office to speak to you.”

  Trent wasn’t at all sure how he felt about being on her to-do list, especially in the category of something she was dreading. Then, again, he didn’t much look forward to dealing with her, either, even though the past few minutes had been reasonably civilized.

  “I don’t see we have that much to talk about,” he said tightly.

  “You made that pretty obvious yesterday,” she said. “Seeing me threw you, didn’t it?”

  He hadn’t expected her to be so direct. “Let’s just say you had the element of surprise on your side. Seems to me that gave you a pretty unfair advantage.”

  She studied him, her dark brown eyes filled with some emotion he couldn’t quite read. It bothered him, because there’d been a time when he’d known all her moods, when he’d been able to know at a glance what she was thinking.

  “Trent, what’s this about? Surely you can’t still be angry about what happened twenty years ago. People grow apart. It happens. They move on. I did. So did you. We’re different people now. Adults. Surely we can spend a little time in each other’s company without old news getting in the way.”

  Trent wanted to explode at her simplistic view of their past. Obviously she wasn’t the one who’d had her heart ripped out. Knowing that it had all meant so little to her made him want to break things. If he hadn’t had a healthy respect for Dinah, the ceramic mug he was clutching in both hands would have been history.

  Then, again, such a move would also have told Jodie way more than he was willing to admit about how much the past ate at him even after all this time. It was a truth he’d only recently discovered—yesterday, in fact—and he was still trying to figure out what to make of it. He’d reacted to seeing her on some gut-deep level that had completely thrown him, even as it had apparently mystified her.

  Fortunately, Dinah returned just then with his breakfast—two eggs over easy, bacon, whole-wheat toast. It never varied. Today it might as well have been sawdust. His appetite had fled, along with his good humor.

  “Heard about what you’re doing for prom,” Dinah said to Jodie, while casting glances in his direction as if she was trying to figure out the source of the tension at the table. “It’s a great thing. A couple of the kids who work for me weren’t going to go, but now it’s all they talk about.”

  Jodie beamed. “That’s exactly why we’re doing it, so everyone can share in the experience. Thanks for telling me that.”

  Dinah nudged Trent’s shoulder with her hip. “Heard Laurie was behind it. You’ve raised a real decent girl.”

  “That was Megan’s doing,” he said, though he was pleased by the compliment.

  “Hey, don’t sell yourself short,” Dinah scolded. “You’ve been on your own since Laurie was barely fifteen. These past couple of years are some of the most critical for a girl.” She turned to Jodie. “Isn’t that right?”

  “I’ve always thought so,” Jodie agreed. “I know what a mess I was in my teens.”

  “Me, too,” Dinah concurred. She set the carafe of coffee on the table. “Might as well leave this here. It’ll save me running back and forth.”

  After she was gone, Trent felt Jodie’s gaze on him.

  “She’s right. You have done a wonderful job with Laurie. She’s never in trouble, she has a great support system at home—that would be you—so I don’t know her as well as I know some of the problem students. Even so, just in the past few weeks of working with her, I’ve come to realize that she’s an amazingly compassionate young woman.”

  “Thanks.”

  She leaned forward, her gaze locked with his. “A father who gave his daughter such solid values surely wouldn’t let her down by walking out on a project that’s so important to her, would he?”

  He blinked at her sneaky tactic.
“Boy, you really do know how to go straight for a man’s Achilles’ heel, don’t you?”

  She grinned and sat back. “The kids think I have a knack for it.”

  “You don’t have to sound so blasted pleased with yourself,” he grumbled.

  “In my line of work, you develop survival skills early on, or you get out,” she said. “Figuring out what makes people tick and how to use that is a survival skill.” She stared straight at him. “So, Trent, are you in or are you out for the whole prom thing?”

  He didn’t know why she bothered asking since they both knew it was a foregone conclusion. “I’m in,” he said grudgingly.

  “Good. Then you’ll line up a few more tuxedos?”

  “Once you’ve gotten a few more boys to agree to go,” he challenged.

  She sighed dramatically. “I’ve got to tell you, I’m fresh out of ideas on how to accomplish that. Mike was supposed to help but he’s thrown in the towel, too. Frankly, if it weren’t for Laurie, I don’t think he’d participate at all.”

  Trent wasn’t entirely sure whether to buy her claim that she had no strategy. He had a feeling there was something more behind it. He couldn’t resist challenging her. “Really? I never took you for a quitter. Then again, you did walk out on the two of us.”

  She winced slightly but ignored the jab about the past. “I’m not quitting, I’m regrouping,” she insisted.

  He ignored the alarms going off in his head, telling him not to get any more involved with this project—or with her—than he already was. “Ever thought about asking for help?”

  Her gaze narrowed. “From you?”

  “I am a guy,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

  “I do get how the male mind works in a way that might elude you, or even the less-experienced Mike.” He pushed aside his plate and tossed his napkin on the table. “Let’s start with why they’re objecting to going in the first place. Any ideas?”