It Had to Be You and All Our Tomorrows

by Irene Hannon

  She shook her head, not trusting her own voice.

  The twins appeared with their salads then, and slowly, as they worked their way through the meal that had been prepared with love, if not finesse, Maggie began to truly relax. Jake told her amusing stories about his travels, and she found herself admiring his wit and self-deprecating humor. He also gave her an update on his relationship with his father—still strained, though improving—and the progress he was making on his lesson plans for the coming school year.

  But he also drew her out, skillfully and with sincere interest. Maggie didn’t know if it was the romantic atmosphere that loosened her tongue, or just Jake’s adept probing, but she opened up more than she expected. She even admitted her secret aspiration to give serious art a try, now that the girls were grown and ready to leave for college.

  “I think you should, Maggie. I’ve seen some of your work, and I’m very impressed. I’m no expert, but didn’t you say that your friend—the gallery owner—had encouraged you, too?”

  She nodded. “But Philip and I...well, we go back a long way. He has a wonderful eye for art, but I’m afraid he may not be that impartial when it comes to my work.”

  This was the opening Jake had been waiting for ever since the day in her studio when she’d made a similar remark, and he wasn’t about to let it pass. Even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer, he had to know. “You’ve mentioned him before,” he remarked with studied casualness. “I suppose you might have a point about the impartiality issue if you and he are...well, close.”

  Maggie tipped her head and studied him.

  “If you want to know whether Philip and I are romantically involved, why don’t you just ask, Jake?” she said bluntly.

  He felt his neck grow red. “I guess I didn’t want you to think I was prying, and take offense.”

  She shrugged. “Actually, we explored a romantic relationship once. Shortly after I moved here. But there just wasn’t any...passion might be the best word, I suppose. Philip’s wife died ten years ago, and even though he’s lonely, no one ever came along who compared to her, I guess. As for me, well, it was kind of the same story. Plus, I had a ready-made family in tow.” Before he could ask a follow-up question about her “same story” comment, she quickly asked one of her own. “And what about you, Jake? Why didn’t you ever marry?”

  He looked at her steadily. “For the same reason you didn’t, I suspect.”

  They gazed at each other for a moment in silence, and then she glanced down, suddenly uncertain. Did he mean what she thought he meant? Had he cared about her all these years, as she had cared about him, held back unconsciously by a love that had never died?

  He reached for her hand then, and she was forced to meet his gaze. “However, lately I’ve been thinking more and more about settling down, getting married, raising a family—the whole nine yards.”

  His implication was clear. But even clearer was his comment about wanting a family, Maggie thought with a frown, that single reference suddenly casting a pall over her evening. She vaguely recalled that he’d mentioned a family once before, but it hadn’t really registered at the time. Now it hit home.

  He saw the sudden furrow on her brow, and a mirror image appeared on his own. Had he revealed too much too soon? “Maggie? Is something wrong?”

  She forced herself to smile. “No. It’s probably a good time for you to...to get married and start a family, if that’s what you want. Raising kids is an experience everyone should have.”

  One time. She hadn’t said that, but the implication was clear, Jake realized. She was telling him that she’d done the family scene, that if a family was in his future, it wouldn’t be a future that was linked with hers. He could understand how she felt. Raising twins, especially when one had had a medical problem, would have been difficult enough for two people, let alone one. But it was different when the responsibility was shared.

  Before he could suggest that, however, the twins appeared at the door carrying a birthday cake topped with glowing candles. As they launched into a spirited rendition of “Happy Birthday,” Jake gave her a look that said, “We’ll continue this later” before joining in the refrain.

  The twins set the cake before Maggie with a triumphant flourish.

  “Make a wish, Aunt Maggie,” Allison instructed.

  “But don’t tell,” Abby added. “Or it won’t come true.”

  It was the same instruction she’d always given them, and she smiled. Her gaze met Jake’s over the golden light of the candles, but she couldn’t read the enigmatic expression in his eyes. Was he wondering whether her wish would have anything to do with him? she reflected. But that would remain her secret.

  She took a deep breath and blew out the candles on the first try, to the applause of her small audience. Then Jake reached down next to the table and retrieved two small packages, which he held out to her.

  “Happy birthday, Maggie.”

  “Oh, Jake, you didn’t have to do this!” she protested.

  “Of course I did. What’s a birthday party without presents? Actually, the small one is from me and the larger one is from Dad, who sends his best wishes.”

  Maggie took them as the girls quickly and efficiently cut and served the cake. Then, despite her entreaties to stay and join the celebration, they whisked the cake away and returned to the kitchen to enjoy their dessert, leaving the guest of honor once more alone with her dinner companion. Maggie shook her head resignedly.

  “Their single-minded determination is amazing. Especially when I think about all the years I struggled to get them to concentrate on their homework,” Maggie noted wryly.

  Jake chuckled. “I have to admit, I’m impressed by their thoroughness.” He took a sip of coffee and nodded toward the packages on the table. “Aren’t you going to open your presents?”

  She chose Howard’s first, exclaiming over the intricate pair of wooden candlesticks that were nestled in tissue. “Oh, Jake, these are lovely! Did Pop make them? I thought he didn’t do woodworking anymore?”

  “He doesn’t. He’s had these for years. He made them right before Mom died.”

  Maggie’s face grew thoughtful. “I saw all his woodworking equipment in the garage the day I tried to fix your plumbing,” she reflected. “You know, it would probably be really good for him to get back into this. It’s not too taxing physically, and it would give him something productive to do.”

  “I agree. But he hasn’t show any interest in picking it up again.”

  “There’s a fair coming up at church,” Maggie mused aloud. “We have it every fall. A lot of area crafters exhibit and sell their work. And the church sponsors a booth where we sell donated items. Maybe Pop would make a few things for us, since it’s for charity. It might be a way to get him back into it.”

  “It’s certainly worth a try,” Jake concurred. “But I doubt he’ll be receptive to the idea if it comes from me.”

  “Then I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Maggie decided, carefully laying aside the candlesticks as she turned her attention to Jake’s present. When she tore the wrapping off she was delighted to discover a leather-bound travel diary, with a note scrawled on the first page.

  To Maggie,

  May all your travels be exciting—and may they all lead you home.

  Jake.

  She looked over at him, touched by the thoughtful gift—and the thought-provoking inscription. “Thank you, Jake.”

  “You’re welcome. I hope your upcoming trip is the first of many.”

  They focused on the cake, then, and just as they finished the twins made another appearance.

  “Why don’t you two go sit on the porch while we clean up,” Abby suggested.

  Jake grinned. “Sounds good to me.” He stood up and reached for Maggie’s hand. She glanced over at the twins who were, as
she expected, positively beaming. She intended to have a long talk with those young women later, but for the moment she’d let them hold on to their misguided romantic fantasy. So, with a “Why fight it?” look, she placed her hand in Jake’s and stood up, strolling with him in silence to the front door.

  Once outside, she carefully withdrew her hand from his. The evening was drawing to a close, and though she’d enjoyed spending the time with Jake, she didn’t want to get used to it.

  “Those two,” she declared in exasperation, stepping away from him to stand at the porch railing and look out over the moon-silvered bay. “What would they have done if my birthday hadn’t been on a Sunday? Any other day the inn would have been full of guests.”

  Jake noted the physical separation she’d established. And he knew why. Her defenses had started to crumble just a bit tonight, and she was scared. But he wasn’t about to let that wall come back up, not yet, anyway. He moved behind her and brought one hand up to rest lightly on her shoulder.

  “Somehow I think they would have found a way.”

  Maggie heard the amusement in his voice, felt his breath close to her ear. So much for her plan to put some space between them. He was so close that she was afraid he would be able to tell that she was trembling. “You’re probably right,” she admitted, grateful that at least her voice wasn’t shaking.

  “Well, shall we sit? Or would you rather walk a little?”

  Maggie glanced at the wicker porch swing, a perfect invitation to romance—obviously what the twins had in mind—and quickly made her choice. “Let’s walk.”

  “I think the girls will be disappointed,” Jake countered with a grin.

  “Too bad. They’ve had their way all evening.”

  Maggie moved purposefully toward the porch steps, certain that walking was a far safer alternative than sitting next to Jake on the porch swing. But when he reached for her hand, laced his fingers through hers and led her into the moonlit night, she suddenly wasn’t so sure.

  Chapter Nine

  “Are you chilly?”

  Maggie glanced up at Jake. Obviously he’d felt her shiver, but she could hardly tell him it was caused more by the warm, tingly feeling his presence evoked than by the cool night air. She swallowed and shook her head.

  “No. I’m fine.”

  Which wasn’t true, either. Not when he was stroking her clasped hand with his thumb and smiling at her with that tender look in his brown eyes.

  “Well, you’re welcome to my jacket if you need it.”

  That was the last thing she needed at the moment, Maggie decided. Having him place his jacket around her shoulders would not do a thing to calm her rapidly accelerating pulse rate.

  “Thanks.”

  Jake seemed content to stroll in silence after that, and Maggie gladly followed his lead. She didn’t trust her voice anyway.

  After a few minutes, Jake paused and nodded toward the water. “Looks like a good spot for a view of the bay. Can your shoes handle the path?”

  Maggie glanced down at her slender-heeled pumps, then at the gravel path he’d indicated. Her shoes would handle the detour with no problem, she decided. But she wasn’t so sure about herself. The path led to a small dock that jutted out into the silver-flecked water—the perfect spot for a romantic tryst. Is that what Jake had in mind? she wondered nervously. Better to play this safe and take the out he’d offered her, she concluded. But when she opened her mouth to decline, different words emerged instead.

  “They should be okay.”

  He smiled then, a smile so warm and tender, it made her toes tingle and her stomach flutter—and convinced her that she’d just made a big mistake.

  But he didn’t give her time for second thoughts. He took her arm and silently guided her down the narrow path to the water’s edge, then onto the rough wooden planks of the dock. They walked to the railing, and as she gazed over the moonlit sea, she realized that the gentle cadence of the waves lapping against the shore was much steadier than her pulse. That was even more true when Jake draped an arm casually around her shoulders, making her heart jump to her throat. What had she gotten herself into? she thought in sudden panic. She was attracted to Jake, yes. But she wasn’t ready for this. Not yet. And maybe never. She still had too many tangled issues and emotions to work through.

  Jake felt Maggie trembling, knew she was scared, knew she was still grappling with her feelings for him and fighting their mutual attraction every step of the way. He couldn’t blame her. She was afraid of being hurt again, afraid to let herself believe that maybe this time things would be different. But they had to get past that eventually if anything was ever to develop between them. Which was exactly what he had in mind.

  Once upon a time, he had never even considered a future without Maggie. He felt the same way now. The challenge was to convince her of that.

  A drop of water flicked against his cheek, and he glanced up at the sky with a frown, surprised to discover that a dark cloud had crept up behind them. But he wasn’t ready to go back to the inn. He nodded toward the small, abandoned shed they’d passed at the end of the dock and took Maggie’s arm.

  “Come on. I’d hate to see that spectacular dress ruined.”

  She followed his lead unprotestingly, pausing only when he stopped to push open the rickety door of the structure. The hinges objected with a loud squeak, but the door reluctantly gave way, and he ushered her inside.

  Maggie took a quick inventory of the shed as she stepped over the threshold. When the girls were younger she’d brought them to this dock a few times to fish, not wanting to deprive them of any of the experiences they might have had with a father. She’d peeked into the old fishing shack, but never ventured inside. It looked more dilapidated than ever, she assessed, noting that the spaces between the weathered gray clapboards had widened considerably through the years. The floorboards had long since rotted away, leaving hard-packed dirt and rock in their place. But at least it was relatively even, she thought, as she walked over to a framed opening in the wall that had once been a window. Amazingly enough, the roof still seemed reasonably watertight. It would do as a shelter from the storm, she decided.

  But what about the storm inside of her? she wondered, as memories of another rainy day suddenly came flooding back with an intensity that took her breath away. In a shed much like this one, her life had changed forever, she recalled. It was her sixteenth birthday—twenty-one years ago—but right now it seemed like yesterday.

  * * *

  Maggie glanced up at the sky and wrinkled her nose as the first raindrops splattered again the asphalt, leaving dark splotches in their wake.

  “Oh, great! Now it’s going to rain on my birthday!” she complained as they pedaled side by side down the country lane.

  Jake laughed. “Sorry about that, squirt. But I have no control over the weather.”

  She made a face at him. “Very funny. And will you please stop calling me that?”

  He grinned. “Why?”

  “Because I’m not. At least, not anymore.”

  “My, my. Aren’t we getting uppity now that we’re sixteen,” he teased.

  Maggie made another face, then pointed to a small, seemingly abandoned shed off to the side of the road. “Let’s go in there till the rain stops.” Without waiting for him to reply, she rode off the pavement and onto the bumpy ground.

  Jake followed her lead, and as they reached the ramshackle structure the rain suddenly turned into a downpour. They dropped their bikes and dashed for cover.

  “Wow! Where did that come from?” Maggie said breathlessly. When they’d loaded their bikes into the rack on Howard West’s car earlier in the day, there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky. Nor had there been any when they’d started their ride an hour ago.

  “I guess the clouds crept up behind us while we were riding,
” Jake replied easily. He glanced up at the sky. “I think it will pass quickly. Might as well make ourselves comfortable in the meantime.”

  Maggie glanced around skeptically. The rain beat a noisy refrain on the rusted tin roof, but at least the floor was dry, she noted, as she started to sit down.

  “Watch that mouse!” Jake exclaimed, then laughed when Maggie jumped. “Just kidding.”

  She glared at him. “Very funny.”

  He looked around. “Actually, I think we’re alone here. But I promise to defend you if any cheese eaters show up.” He lowered his tall frame to the floor and leaned back against the wall, drawing his knees up and clasping his hands around his legs.

  Maggie looked around doubtfully, then sat down gingerly in the middle of the floor where she could keep a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree lookout for small, unwanted visitors. She dusted her hands on her khaki shorts and crossed her legs, then glanced at Jake. Her eyes widened in alarm and she gasped, pointing behind him.

  “Is that a poisonous spider?”

  Jake jerked away from the wall and turned to look. Maggie’s sudden eruption of giggles told him he’d been had.

  “Gotcha!” she declared gleefully.

  Jake’s eyes narrowed and he gave her a disgruntled look. “How old are you again? Sixteen—or six?”

  “You did it to me,” she pointed out.

  “Once is okay. Getting back isn’t,” he declared with a tone of superiority.

  Maggie gazed at him speculatively. In a way she was glad it had rained, glad they’d found this isolated shelter. Because she had something she wanted to ask him. After all, Jake was more than a year older than she was. He was popular with the girls, dated a lot. In another week he’d be going off to college. Today would be her best chance to pose the question that had been burning in her mind for weeks. But she just wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.

  “Jake?” Her voice was suddenly tentative, uncertain. “Can I ask you something?”