“Why didn’t you tell me about your little parachute man?” Jillian asked. “I would have gone next door and asked Mr. Iverson to please return it. And rather than run away when you broke the pot, you should have told me about it.”
“But what if it cost a whole lot of money? I heard you talking to Dad on the phone, and you said that you didn’t even have enough money to buy a tree and presents this year. So how could I tell you about the pot?”
Jillian took in a sharp breath. She hadn’t meant for Tommy to overhear the financial discussion she’d had with his father. Nor had she wanted Mac to be privy to that same piece of news now, but it was too late.
“My dad is a jerk,” Tommy told Mac.
For once, Jillian didn’t correct him.
Megan entered the kitchen, and Jillian sent the children to the bathroom to wash their hands.
She probably ought to have said something to Mac, like, “I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Or maybe even, “See what I’ve been up against?” But she bit her tongue instead, hoping the frustration wouldn’t well in her eyes.
But, hey, if it did? Maybe Mac would disappear as quickly as Mr. Iverson had.
“You know,” Mac said, “I’ve got an idea.”
He did?
Jillian had run through every idea she’d had when it came to dealing with Jared’s selfishness and Tommy’s anger. And she hadn’t had much luck. So she was game for almost anything.
“After lunch, why don’t I take you guys for an ice cream cone at The Creamery?”
Jillian hadn’t stepped foot in that place since the day before she and Mac broke up.
Why would he suggest they go there?
And why did she later go to get her purse and grab jackets for the kids?
Chapter Three
It was mid-December, but the air was still a bit crisp and chilly for a southern California beach community.
Mac probably should have suggested taking the kids to Happy Donuts, which was only a few shops down from The Creamery. But the ice cream cone invitation had just rolled off his tongue, and the kids and their mother had been okay with it.
So here they were, parked in his black Ford Expedition on the shady, tree-lined street, where The Creamery was flanked by Specks Appeal, an eyeglass store, and Café Del Sol, a trendy eatery that offered both indoor and sidewalk dining.
While Mac slid out of the driver’s seat, Jillian and the kids climbed from the SUV.
Most children had a natural sweet tooth, so he figured he’d get on Tommy’s good side by buying him a treat. And maybe, if he was able to connect with the boy on some level, he could help Jillian put an end to the cold war that seemed to be brewing between her son and Charlie.
As they entered the shop, a bell—probably the same one that had announced new customers years ago—tinkled, alerting an older man who was reading behind the counter.
The sixty-something man, who wore a red-and-white-striped shirt, stood and made his way to the freezer display case. A black plastic badge said his name was Ralph. “Can I help you folks?”
“We’d like some cones,” Mac said.
The gray-haired man grinned. “You betcha.”
Megan and Tommy approached the freezer display case and peered at twenty or more flavor options, while Ralph awaited their decision.
“This place certainly hasn’t changed much,” Jillian said, perusing the interior.
Mac had to agree, noting the black and white checkerboard flooring, the chrome-trimmed, white Formica tables, and the red vinyl chairs. Several matching booths still lined the back wall, including the one in the far corner, where he and Jillian used to sit whenever they’d found it empty.
“Oh, cool,” Tommy said. “Look, Meggie. Bubble gum ice cream. It has chunks of gumballs in it, and when you’re all done eating it, you end up with a mouth full of chewing gum.”
“Ooh, yuck,” Megan said, scrunching her face. “I want strawberry.”
Mac nudged Jillian’s arm as though not a day had passed since they’d met here regularly. “How about you?”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“You didn’t eat anything except apples at lunch,” he said. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“A little. But I just started a diet.” She offered him a smile, then glanced at the small bulletin board behind the cash register, where a snowflake-trimmed flyer had been posted.
He’d noticed that she’d put on a bit of weight over the years, which was probably why she was dieting, but it didn’t matter to him. There’d always been something special about her that had caught his eye and gripped his heart.
Her dark brown hair, which had once hung to her waist, curled at the shoulders now. The style suited her, he supposed.
“Mac?” The way she said his name, her voice as soft and lyrical as he’d remembered, stirred up all the good memories he’d ever had. She pointed to the announcement. “Did you see that? They’re having another Christmas Under the Stars. It’s this weekend. Apparently, it’s become a community tradition.”
As the children gave their ice cream orders, and Ralph prepared their cones, Mac’s thoughts drifted back fifteen years to the day Fairbrook readied for the very first outdoor holiday event.
That particular December afternoon, the sun had been sinking low in the western sky, and Mac had been hanging out in Mulberry Park with a couple of friends. They’d been discussing what they were going to do that night for fun, while several men on ladders ran extension cords and connected a sound system. A few women had set up tables and were covering them with red and green plastic cloths.
Mac had been looking forward to joining his friends for another aimless night on the city streets, when he noticed Jillian’s car pull up. And suddenly, his interest shifted.
He’d never been shy around girls before, but Jillian had been different. She’d been a college-bound senior, and he was a year younger and a grade behind, wondering if a high school diploma was all it was cracked up to be. So their paths had rarely crossed, but on those few occasions when they’d spotted each other in the cafeteria or down the hall, Mac had sensed that the attraction had been mutual.
Jillian had parked along the curb that afternoon, and as she was trying to get a platter of brownies out of her car, Mac had gotten a burst of testosterone-laced courage.
So, after telling his friends he’d catch up with them later, he’d made his way toward the girl who was clearly out of his league, figuring he’d bite the bullet and introduce himself.
Jillian, who was still studying the flyer behind the register in The Creamery, interrupted his thoughts. “Do you remember the first Christmas Under the Stars?”
“Yeah.” Being with her again had brought it all rushing back to him.
“I’ll never forget that night,” she said, her tone soft and wistful.
Neither would Mac, but he didn’t want her to know he’d been waxing nostalgic, so he made light of it. “I believe that was the first and only time I’d ever heard you say a bad word.”
She batted his arm the way she’d done when they were teens on the verge of adulthood and he’d teased her about something. “The word I said wasn’t so bad. And it just slipped out. I’d baked four dozen brownies earlier that day, and I was supposed to drop them off with the refreshment coordinator. And then you called my name.”
And when she looked up, she’d dropped both plates, frosting side down, in the dirt.
He grinned, remembering it all clearly. “Hey, I helped you pick them up.”
In the process, their hands had touched, their gazes had locked, and Mac had fallen in love for the first and only time in his life.
Three months later, she’d dumped him.
But hey, he should have known better than to imagine anything could have really developed between them. Jillian had grown up as an only child in a loving home on Sugar Plum Lane. And Mac had spent his early years in a rundown apartment on the east side of town with an alcoholic mother and a father who’d been
an on-again, off-again druggie. So the cards had been stacked against them since day one.
Suddenly, a little tiptoe down Memory Lane had turned into a full-on run. Mac tried to backpedal, but something in Jillian’s pretty green eyes zeroed in on him, just the way it always had, and he felt like an awestruck adolescent all over again.
“That’ll be four dollars and twenty-eight cents,” Ralph said. “That is, unless you two want a cone or something.”
Mac turned to Jillian and smiled. “It’s your last chance to cheat on that diet. For what it’s worth, you look just fine to me. And this has got to be the worst time of the year to be watching what you eat.”
“Thanks, but I’m going to pass. You go ahead. How about one of those triple-scoop Rocky Road cones you used to like?”
“Not today.” He wouldn’t feel right eating in front of her. “I think I’ll just have a cup of coffee.”
Jillian ordered hot tea, and as the clerk prepared their drinks, Megan and Tommy tasted their ice cream cones, then wandered to the back of the shop and slid into a booth. Mac had almost suggested they move to the one in the back corner, but he didn’t. Instead, he took a twenty from his wallet and waited for Ralph to tally the tab.
“I heard you talking about Christmas Under the Stars,” Ralph said, handing an insulated cup of hot water to Jillian, as well as a teabag. “It’s an annual event, and the kids will love it. I hope you’ll consider taking them. We sing carols by candlelight and drink hot cocoa. There’s also a live nativity display.”
“You know, I think I will take them.” Jillian dropped the teabag into her cup. “It’ll provide them with a bit of the holiday spirit since we won’t be celebrating in the usual way at home this year.”
Ralph handed Mac a large coffee and nodded to a table to the left of the counter. “You’ll find sugar and cream over there.”
“Thanks.” Mac would drink his black, but he wasn’t sure about Jillian’s preferences.
He watched her stop by the table and pick up a packet of sugar-free sweetener. Then she looked at him, her eyes just as bright and expressive as ever. “How about you? Will you be going?”
“No, I’ve never made a big deal out of holidays.” There’d never been a reason to. The last time he’d tried was when he’d dated Stacy Pernicano, a hairstylist by trade and his longest lasting relationship. A few years back, she’d taken him home to meet her family and to spend Christmas evening with them.
Her parents had gone all out with the outdoor lights and a Nutcracker scene that moved around the lawn. And inside, a ten-foot tree, its branches fully lit and loaded with ornaments, took center stage in the living room, surrounded by a mound of colorfully wrapped gifts. Stacy’s mom had gone all out on a gourmet feast, too.
But Mac had been uneasy all evening.
It was more than just the over-the-top holiday scene that had made him skittish. It was because Stacy had gotten a little clingy, and he preferred not to let women get too close. He was more of a loner than most, and he liked it that way. So he’d broken things off after New Year’s.
“I can’t imagine not celebrating Christmas at all,” she said. “It makes me sad to think of you being alone.”
“Don’t worry about me. I keep busy.” He usually volunteered to work extra shifts so the other officers could spend the holidays with their families.
As he and Jillian approached the table where Tommy and Megan were sitting, she slid in first and made room for him.
He tried to focus on the kids and their ice cream cones, rather than on Jillian, whose arm touched his. Whose light, floral scent reminded him just how little had changed.
Fifteen years ago, she’d always insisted that they meet somewhere, which was probably because Mac had been a budding delinquent her father hadn’t approved of.
Of course, that was the old Mac, a guy who no longer existed. Still, as he sat at a table with Jillian and her kids, those same adolescent insecurities began to surface again, reminding him of how star-crossed his crush on Jillian had been. And being together again at The Creamery, where the walls seemed to be closing in on him and forcing his memories to the surface, was making it worse.
He suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here.
“Look, Mom.” Tommy pointed at the window that looked out at the park. “There’s a playground over there. And it’s got a teeter-totter, a slide, and all the stuff Meggie likes.”
“Where?” His sister scrambled to get to her knees, ditching all signs of her shyness. “I want to see it.”
Mac glanced across the street, noting that the playground hadn’t been anywhere near as grand fifteen years ago and wondering when it had been remodeled.
“It looks fun,” Jillian said. “Before school starts in January, I’ll have to take you there.”
Sensing an escape route, Mac slid out of the booth and got to his feet. “What’s wrong with going there now?”
Chapter Four
Jillian and Mac, each with an insulated cup in hand, steam rising and twisting in the cool, wintry air, walked the children across the street to Mulberry Park.
Today had been surreal, Jillian thought, first with Mac showing up at the door and then with him suggesting they take the kids to The Creamery. And now they were headed to the playground.
She’d always wanted Jared to take part in outings like this, and while they did occasionally go to dinner or to school programs together, he usually had a reason for not joining her and the kids.
“Sorry, babe,” he would say, sometimes placing a kiss on her cheek and sometimes not giving her so much as a glance. “I’ve got another meeting I have to attend. And you know that business comes first.”
She just hadn’t realized he’d meant monkey business.
Of course, now Jared was probably strolling the deck of a cruise ship with his new family in tow, which wasn’t fair to the two children he’d left behind.
But she shook off the thought. The divorce was behind her, and it was best if she focused on the future. Whatever that might bring.
She stole a peek at Mac, who was looking ahead and scanning the park. He’d always been keenly aware of his surroundings, a tendency that, whether innate or learned as a child, probably came in handy with his job as a detective.
“Come on,” Tommy said as he and Megan reached the end of the crosswalk and stepped onto the curb. “Let’s go ride the teeter-totter first.”
“Okay, I’ll race you.” Megan took off across the grass, running toward the playground, her blond ponytail swishing across her back. Yet even though her brother reached the sand several strides ahead of her, she didn’t seem the least bit disappointed to come in second place.
“I’m glad I made the kids put on a jacket before we left,” Jillian said, noting that Mac only had on a white T-shirt. “Aren’t you cold?”
“Not really.” He took a sip of coffee.
She again noticed the red and black lettering on his shirt, and curiosity got the better of her. “What’s with Jiffy Bail Bonds? That seems like an odd shirt for a police officer to wear. I thought it was your job to lock up the bad guys and make sure they stayed there.”
He glanced at the block lettering across his chest, then tossed her a crooked grin, his eyes crinkling at the edges, and chuckled. “One of my buddies had these made up for a department softball game. It was our way of razzing our opponents. The captain of the other team was a public defender.”
“Cute. I’ll bet your opponents loved that.”
“Yeah, but don’t worry. The shirts they wore were blue and said The Donut Stop, the Safest Place in Town.”
“That must have been some softball game.”
“It was a lot of fun. Especially the heckling.” He nodded toward a green fiberglass picnic table. “Why don’t we sit over there and watch the kids play? Unless, of course, you’d rather join them on the playground?”
Like they’d done on the night they’d met?
Her thoughts drifted to the first Christmas Un
der the Stars event, when she and Mac had wandered away from the couples and families holding candles and singing carols, away from the twinkling lights that adorned the trees.
They’d teeter-tottered for a while, their only light coming from the ornamental electric lampposts located near the cinder block building that housed the restrooms. Then they’d moved on to the swing set.
For two teenagers with very little in common, except a mutual attraction that had caught them both off guard, they’d hit it off that night. And when no one was looking, they’d slipped behind the restrooms and shared a kiss that began sweet and hesitant, then grew hungry and urgent.
Had Mac been remembering it all, too?
As they each took a seat on the bench, their backs to the table, they faced the playground where Tommy and Megan had joined several other children. She stole another look at her teenage crush, but couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His gaze was on her son, who, fortunately, seemed to have left his troubles at home today.
“Tommy’s always been a happy child,” she said. “It’s just since the divorce that he’s been a little…down and snappy.”
“Have you taken him to see a counselor?”
“Not yet.” She would have done it by now, but the new insurance plan Jared had recently acquired didn’t cover anything other than basic medical and only some dental. And with the expense of the move and a delay in the child support check…“I’ve enrolled the kids at the new school, and their first day is on the fifth of January. So I thought I’d see if the district psychologist might talk to him at that time. And then we’ll see what he or she recommends.”
“I’m sure that’ll help.”
“I hope something will. I’ve been at a loss. It’s tough to see your kids hurting and not know what to do about it.” She’d always been a mother-knows-best sort of woman, but in this case, she was treading water and hoping for the best. “I’ve prayed about it,” she added, not sure at all how Mac would feel about that. Her father had taken her to church regularly as a child, while Mac, according to what he’d once told her, had never stepped foot inside one.
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