by Tara Randel
They came upon the old faded structure, boarded up, aged by the elements and time. He took multiple shots, intrigued by the shack. The light hit the wood perfectly and brought the old place to life, at least in his mind’s eye.
“Hey, can you get me the longer lens?” he called to Zoe, still focused on the changing light and how it affected the process.
He snapped a few more times before hearing Zoe say, “What’s this?”
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Zoe walking toward him, holding a small object in her hand. Once in the shade of the building, she held it out. The picture of her he’d taken at the fund-raiser.
“I’ve been carrying this around with me for a while now,” he said sheepishly.
Her brow wrinkled. “I don’t recall you taking any pictures of me.”
“You didn’t know.”
She studied the print. “The food bank fund-raiser?”
“You love your job and it shows,” he said, as if that alone explained his motivation.
When she looked at him, tears glistened in her eyes.
“Did I do something wrong?”
She sniffled. “You never showed this to me.”
“It was a spontaneous moment. I’d focused on you from across the room and the look on your face captivated me, so I had to take the shot. There was this...reflective expression on your face. I couldn’t resist.”
Zoe stared at the print in her hand. “I can’t recall what I was thinking about.”
“It was during the fund-raiser, so maybe what a good job you’d done?”
They stood in the shadow of the snack shack for a long moment before she handed the photo back to him.
“You keep it,” he told her.
“No. I like that you carry it around with you.”
His chest squeezed. Why hadn’t he ever thought to carry a picture of her when he traveled the world? To keep her close to his heart? Because it hadn’t been important. Until he almost lost her. Now he had another chance.
“I’m thinking that working for this small press and the studio should keep me occupied. What do you think?”
“You’re asking me?” Her face relayed her surprise. “You’ve never done that before.”
“Well, we have this partnership thing going now. It’s working pretty well.”
“If that’s what you want, Mitch, I’m all for it.” A slow smile spread across her lips, lighting up her face tinged pink from the sun. “And speaking of all in, we’re going to dedicate the new playground this weekend. Up to being the official photographer for the day?”
“Sure, if I get to spend it with you and Leo.”
“Then consider yourself hired.”
“Great.” He reached for the gear bag and stowed away his camera. “What do you say we go get a cold drink? I’m hot and thirsty. Heard the Sand Dune is still open.”
“That dive?”
“It was good enough for us back when we were in school. Why not go visit one of our old stomping grounds?”
She shrugged, a twinkle of merriment in her eyes. “Why not?”
Chapter Fifteen
DARK CLOUDS SCUTTLED across the sky as Zoe and Mitch pulled up to the Sand Dune. She peered at the run-down building at the north end of the beach. It had been a long time since she’d stopped here. “Looks the same to me.”
“How many times do you think we holed up here when we were kids?” he asked.
“Too many to count.” She glanced at him. “Sure you don’t want to go someplace more...updated?”
He opened the door. “We’re here. Let’s check it out.”
As much as she’d rather gone somewhere else, she couldn’t deny the nostalgia as they climbed the uneven steps to the worn wooden porch leading to an equally worn-out dining room. Mitch held the screen door open for her as she walked inside. The scent of sugary confections taunted her taste buds, and the chatter of young voices bombarded her with memories.
Dating. Long hot days spent at the beach. Root beer floats. The idea of them getting married was first brought up here. Scanning the place quickly, she decided maybe spending an idle hour with Mitch wouldn’t be horrible.
The school year hadn’t started up yet, evidenced by the number of kids hanging out. Mitch found an empty high-top table in the corner and they sat, taking in the surroundings. Her gaze stopped at the wizened man behind the counter, doling out words of wisdom to the kids seated there.
“Mr. Wilson still works here?”
Mitch glanced over, a smile lighting his handsome face. “Looks like it. Being around these teens must keep him young.” He turned back to her. “The usual?”
“Might as well since we’re walking down memory lane.”
He went across the room, striking up a conversation with the elderly business owner. How many times had he stood in just that position, elbows resting on the counter, leaning in to place all his attention on every word the man spoke? Only, now his shoulders were wider and his face carried lines of experience, a different look from the boy she’d fallen in love with.
Zoe noticed Mitch rub the side of his leg.
Bony fingers of guilt unnerved her. Had she put too many demands on Mitch? Would he wake up one day, see what he’d given up and resent her all over again?
She hoped not.
Minutes later, he returned with a double-portion banana split, scoops of vanilla and chocolate ice cream already melting around the creamy fruit slices. He pointed to the two red cherries on top. “We don’t have to fight over them.”
“Wow. You went all out.”
“That’s what you do when you want to impress the girl.”
Flutters kicked up in her stomach. The kind that came when Mitch focused on her. Made her believe everything would be all right, just like he’d assured her back in high school.
She took the spoon he’d handed her and dug into the gooey calorie-laden treat. “So, you want to impress me?”
“You haven’t figured that out yet?”
“Maybe I’m afraid what’s happening between us is too good to be true.”
He shook his head. “Always expecting the worst.”
Was she? Probably. After the bank robbery, caution was stamped on her heart. Even though Mitch had tried to coax out the risk-taker she’d been before the shooting, she’d held back. Allowed herself to cower when she should have been brave. Her impromptu idea had nearly gotten her and Bethany killed.
It was easy to get things done for the good of the town, but her personal life? Not so much. Especially since Leo had arrived. She’d probably grown more hypervigilant than ever. But was it also an excuse? By making Cypress Pointe a strong and thriving place, was she selfishly insulating herself and Leo?
Until Mitch had come home and reminded her that there was more to life than caution and control. Just like he’d done when he’d skateboarded into her life all those years ago.
Pushing aside the morose thoughts, Zoe spooned up a portion of ice cream and fruit, a burst of tastes and textures exploding in her mouth. “Mmm. I’d forgotten how good Mr. Wilson’s desserts are.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t splurge once in a while?”
She scooped another spoonful. “Not normally.”
“Trying to keep your girlish figure?”
Rolling her eyes, she pointed her spoon at him. “You’re out of control.”
He winked. “You like it.”
Yes. She did. Way too much. From the compliments, to the long looks, to his place in Leo’s life, yeah, she liked it all. So why didn’t she tell him? Take the leap and give Mitch the answer he wanted?
They ate in silence, polishing off the dessert in no time. Zoe grabbed a napkin to wipe the ice cream from her lips. Her fingers trembled as Mitch watched with stark emotion in his dark eyes. Was it her imagination or had the temperatur
e in the room risen ten degrees?
She wadded the napkin in a tight fist, trying to come up with a way to sever the blazing connection before they both overheated. “Any regrets about being back?”
He shook his head. “Leo’s the best. And after everything that went down, I think I needed a break. You can only see so much, run so far, so fast. You get to the point where you doubt anything you do is good enough.”
“As much as I didn’t like all your traveling, you know I was never against your work.”
“I do. I also came to understand that after a while, chasing stories was my way of dealing with the miscarriages.”
In the act of lowering her napkin, her hand stilled in the air. “What? You never said anything. I mean... I knew you were hurting, but...”
“I knew how much you wanted a baby. You spent a lot of time grieving and I didn’t want to pile on with my own pain.”
“If I’d known... I was angry because you weren’t there for me.”
“At the time, I felt there wasn’t anything I could do to help you. You were sad and hurting...and I... Nothing I did relieved you of your pain.”
Had she made it so difficult for him that he’d had to leave rather than grieve together? “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, mortified at how her actions had affected him.
Mitch reached across the table to take her hand in his. Squeezed tight. “In retrospect, neither of us handled the losses well. I made my own share of mistakes.”
Still stunned at his revelation, she remained silent.
“You want to know one of the last things I remember just before the crash?”
She nodded, her throat too tight to speak.
“I’d decided that was my last story for a while. I was coming back to fight for you. For us.”
Her eyes went wide. Stung with hot tears.
“I can’t quite recall what, exactly, cemented the decision, but when I was in the overturned truck, I kept thinking I’d never make it back to you, never get a chance to make things right, and it broke my heart.”
“And all that time, I thought you were dead,” she said in a hoarse voice. “Thinking you loved your job more than me.”
“I’m not your mother, Zoe.”
The truth cut deep. Mom had always put her art first. Then Mitch. They both said they loved her, but they’d put their passions ahead of her needs and it had stung with unfathomable pain.
“Yeah,” Mitch continued. “For a while I let my career be number one and look at what it cost us. You thought you were a widow and I lost a year of my son’s life.”
“How did we ever let the rift in our marriage get so out of hand?”
“It’s hard to remember now.” He loosened his hold but still kept her hand in his. “So in answer to the question you’ve been asking since I came home, I don’t know what my career will look like. I may want to travel, if it’s for a worthy story. Or I may want to stay put in Cypress Pointe.”
“On the one hand, I’m relieved. Having you home is nice.” Her smile faded. “But on the other? Your work reached a lot of people. Your impact shouldn’t be forgotten or pushed aside.”
“I’ll figure it all out.” He emptied the bowl, finishing the last swirls of cream and brown syrup. “You do the same thing, you know, only on a different scale.”
“Do what?”
“Point out changes that should be made, like the food bank, for instance. Or the new playground at the park. Hard work with big rewards.”
She blinked. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Every time you come up with a new way to make Cypress Pointe a better place to live, you’re touching lives.”
Her chest went tight. She was proud of what she’d accomplished, even if it was born from fear.
“I was going to surprise you,” Mitch said, “But I can’t wait.”
“Surprise me with what?”
“The new playground you spearheaded? Suncoast Spectacular wants a layout. Even though you asked me to tag along, I was already scheduled to shoot on Saturday.”
“Really? I’m thrilled. It was more of a personal project, because of Leo, but I’m happy the magazine exposure will draw more people to the park.”
“I’m glad we’re making it a family day.”
“Leo can see what his daddy does.”
“Along with his mom, the mayor.”
Their gazes met as shadows darkened over the room. Outside, the wind had picked up and the humidity in the air grew thick.
“Looks like the daily rain blowing in,” Mitch observed.
Zoe slid off the stool. “We should get home.”
The clouds had increased as they stepped outside. In the distance, thunder rolled. As they drove back toward town, the wipers swished across the window to clear off the steady rain.
“Do you want to come over for dinner?” Zoe asked.
“I think that banana split was dinner.” Mitch chuckled. “But no, I need to go by the studio. Look at today’s shots. Finish a special project I started.”
She pulled onto Main Street, double-parking in front of the studio to drop him off.
“Thanks for today,” she said, suddenly conscious of the shift in the atmosphere that had nothing to do with the rain and thunder. Mitch slipped a hand behind her neck, his fingers tangling with her hair, and gently tugged her in his direction. Their lips met. So natural. So real. Like the years of being at odds had melted in the blink of an eye.
The moment stretched out as the kiss deepened. Just as she leaned closer, a car horn blared behind them. Mitch broke contact, his gaze piercing hers. She shivered, trying to breathe evenly, waiting for more.
“I guess you should move.”
“Move where?”
He shot her a lazy grin that had her heart galloping harder.
The horn blared again.
“I’ll talk to you later.”
Disappointed, she nodded. Then he was gone.
Driving back to the house, Zoe replayed their conversation at the Sand Dune. She’d never known how Mitch had dealt with the miscarriages. In her own pain, she hadn’t thought to ask. It bothered her that she could have been so clueless of her own husband’s suffering. She’d been so quick to blame him for their marriage falling apart but hadn’t been able to accept her role in the damage. Today had been quite a wakeup call.
She blinked back tears of regret and by the time she’d pulled into the driveway, she had made a decision.
Once in the house, she headed straight for the bedroom, running into her mother who was collecting Leo’s toys.
“How was your day?” she asked, trucks and stuffed dinosaurs in her arms.
“Mitch got some great pictures.”
“You can tell me about it over dinner.”
“Give me a couple minutes, Mom.”
She hurried on before she could change her mind about her mission.
Closing the door behind her, she opened the top drawer of her dresser and pulled out the envelope with the unsigned divorce decree. Taking a breath, she removed the papers and sat on the bed. Stared at them for a moment, waiting for the usual anger to wash over her. When it didn’t come, she ripped the papers in half. Again. Then again.
A peace that had eluded her for a long time settled over her shoulders. She collected the pieces of paper and deposited them on the dresser top before joining her mother. Next time she saw Mitch, she’d give him her decision, to get back together and be a family.
Samantha looked at her with curiosity as she entered the kitchen. “Is everything okay?”
The scent of simmering tomato sauce made Zoe’s belly rumble.
“It is now,” she said, taking a place at the dinner table, hungry despite the banana split she’d eaten just an hour earlier.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING
, the bell positioned above the door to the studio clanged, announcing a customer. Mitch, immersed with the special project that had become very personal, started when he heard a male voice say, “Hello?” Remembering that Sandy had left to run an errand, he walked up front to find a man dressed in an army uniform, perusing the work area.
“Can I help you?”
The man stuck out his hand. “Major Evans. I left a message on your cell.”
“That’s right. Sorry, I meant to call you back, but my son was sick and in the excitement, I forgot.”
“It’s okay.” He glanced around. ‘Is there someplace we can talk? In private?”
Mitch didn’t like the gravity of the man’s tone. “Sure. Let’s go to my office.”
A sense of high alert was impossible to ignore. He offered the Major a seat and closed the door.
“What’s this all about?” he asked, taking his seat behind the desk.
“The accident in Jordan. I have some questions.”
“Why would the army be interested in my accident?”
The Major’s steady gaze met his. “We believe you might have information that will help us tie up a case we’re working on.”
“I’m still fuzzy about the events that day, but I’ll help any way I can.”
The Major opened the file he’d carried in with him. “You were in Jordan working on a story at a refugee camp, correct?”
“Yes. I’d been in the area for a while and this time I was helping a boy find his father.”
The Major nodded. “You were working with a man named Jack Parsons?”
“That’s right.”
“And you’ve been in contact with him?”
“Yes. Once I remembered more of the accident, I figured out he was also there. I finally tracked him down a few weeks ago. We were to meet but he canceled last minute.”
“That meeting won’t be happening.”
Surprised, he asked, “Why not? I was hoping he could help me jog loose some details about why we were attacked.”
“I’m afraid you contacting Parsons has opened a door.”
Mitch frowned. “What kind of door?”
