Then, Again

by Karen Stivali

  “Look, I’ve been married for six years, you can trust me on this. When a woman makes a statement like ‘No one wants a girlfriend who’s only here once in a while’ they’re looking for the guy to say something like ‘unless it’s you, honey, you’re worth waiting for.’ And nothing pisses them off more than when the guy says something noncommittal like ‘I just want you to be happy.’ She probably wanted you to ask her to stay.”

  “You don’t know Kay. I told her I love her. I told her I’ll miss her. She told me she was going. Case closed.”

  “I don’t think so.” Dave leaned back against the couch, his foot bobbing against his knee.

  “You are pissing me right the fuck off. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “All I’m saying is she loves you. You love her. I know you do. I’ve known you your whole life and you’ve never been one-eighth as happy as you’ve been while you two were together. So she’s gonna travel? Who cares? If you want to be with her you make it work. But you have to let her know you’re willing to do it.”

  James shook his head. “I’m not gonna make a fool out of myself. She was letting me down easy.”

  “Maybe, but I doubt it. Look, you don’t have to take my word for it. Ask Judy. But I think she’s gonna tell you the exact same thing.”

  “Judy still wants me back with Patricia.”

  Dave shook his head. “Not so much anymore. She did, but even she warmed up to Kay. Jesus, James, none of us have ever seen you like this. All I’m saying is this isn’t over unless you want it to be.” Dave looked him in the eye. “You want it over?”

  James didn’t want to admit it but the answer was there, plain and simple. “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. Now you just have to figure out what to do about it.”

  Fantastic. I’m sure that won’t be any trouble at all.

  Dave stood and put his empty beer bottle on the desk. “Think about it. I’m sure you could—”

  James followed Dave’s gaze. Shit.

  “What the fuck is that?” Dave reached over and plucked the sparkling ring out of the velvet box James had left open on his desk.

  “It’s a ring.” James massaged the back of his neck, willing the tension and his brother to leave, so he could have a moment to try to forget just how wrong everything was going.

  “Did you propose to her?”

  “No. I try to make it a habit of not proposing marriage to women who’ve just dumped me.”

  Staring at the ring made James’s stomach knot. He’d thought he’d be looking at it on Kay’s lovely hand, not watching it twirl between his brother’s stubby fingers. “Give me the damn ring, would you?”

  Dave handed it over. “Did it occur to you that if you proposed she might have decided to stay?”

  “No. She made her choice.”

  “Fair enough. But if you didn’t propose, she didn’t know all her options.”

  James flinched but stayed silent as he stuck the ring back in its box and tossed it into his bottom desk drawer.

  “I’m not saying the situation doesn’t suck, Jimmy. I just can’t believe you let her go. I’ve never known you to give up so easy.”

  This isn’t easy. This isn’t easy, at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Kay checked into her fourth hotel in five nights. This time it was a luxury boutique hotel, part of the shoot. The room was amazing. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a private courtyard garden. Billion thread count linens. A bathtub with speakers built into the molded head rests. She hated it.

  She longed for the sound of the ocean, the briny, always slightly damp air, the scent of the old beaten-up wood of the boardwalk. And James. She missed him so much it physically hurt. The hectic days of shooting and moving from location to location usually distracted her from everything else, but not this time. Everything she did seemed to remind her of him. It was like he was looking through the lens with her. Except he wasn’t there. Not even at the end of the day when she was trying to relax at the hotel. Alone. Painfully aware that she was alone.

  To make matters worse he hadn’t called. Not that she’d called him. The thought of it was too scary. What if he doesn’t even want to talk to me anymore? She remembered every nuance of their last minutes together. The way he smelled, the way his breath felt against her hair, the feel of his hands as he held her. She wanted to go back and change it all, but she couldn’t. That time was over. Done.

  She checked her email, hoping maybe he’d have sent her a message. Instead she found three emails flagged as urgent. All from Rhonda.

  Kay,

  I’ve been trying to call you all day. You have two offers on the house. You could have a bidding war on your hands here. I need to know how to proceed. Do you still want to sell? I need an answer ASAP.

  Rhonda

  Kay was in the middle of typing a reply when her cell phone rang. She grabbed it, her heart in her throat, hoping maybe it would be James, but it was Rhonda.

  “Oh thank God. I’ve been going crazy over here. Did you get my emails?”

  Kay tried to conceal the disappointment in her voice. “I just read them a second ago.”

  “The one offer I’m not so sure about but the other one is solid. They really want it, and quick too. If you’re ready to sell.”

  Kay felt her throat tighten. Everything happens for a reason. That was Gram’s absolute favorite motto. This is the universe telling me to move on. Going back there and not being with James would kill me. Her voice caught as she forced herself to say it. “I’m ready. Do it.”

  Kay hung up, knowing that her next call had to be to Rosalie and Trixie. She didn’t want them to hear about the house while sitting in the knitting circle. Rosalie answered the phone on the third ring, sounding winded.

  “It’s Kay. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, we just got in from our walk. How are you? We haven’t heard from you since you left.”

  Kay could hear Trixie in the background. “Is that Kay? Ask her.”

  Rosalie muttered something Trixie couldn’t hear. “Sorry, Trixie says hello.”

  Kay couldn’t help but chuckle. “That didn’t sound like hello. What does she want to know?” Kay could only imagine how much gossip had already spread through town, about her, the house, James. She felt sick, her stomach knotting again, her hands clammy. She flopped onto the pillowy hotel bed and stared at the textured ceiling.

  “Did you really break it off with James?”

  Kay could hear the expectation in Rosalie’s voice. It had probably been killing her to hear rumors and not know what was going on. “I had to.”

  “What had to? What does that mean?” There was a rustling sound over the receiver and she heard Rosalie whisper, “She says she had to. Now shhh so I can hear.”

  Before Kay could answer she heard a click in the line. Trixie’s voice came through clear as a bell. “Kay, honey, what’s going on? I ran into James’s mother and she told me you’d taken this job permanently and had called things off. Is that true? Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “Trixie, let her talk.”

  Kay cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I should have called you before I left but there wasn’t time. You knew about the Canada trip. I told you there was a possibility of it turning into a very long assignment.”

  “Sure, long, you didn’t say you were moving to Canada forever.” Rosalie clucked her tongue and Kay could tell she was a little annoyed.

  “It’s not forever, but I’ll be here the majority of the time for quite a while. That’s not good for a relationship. This job has taught me that more times than I care to recall.”

  “But you seemed so happy.” Trixie sounded wistful, like it was her fairy tale that was ending rather than Kay’s.

  “I was happy.” The lump returned to her throat, and she ran her hand along her neck, trying to rub it away. “It just wouldn’t have worked.”

  “You don’t know that,” they said in unison. It was so rare for them
to agree on something it startled Kay.

  “I do know it. I don’t have time for a relationship, and it’s not fair for me to ask someone to wait around for me.” Not that anyone had ever been interested in doing that anyway.

  “James would have waited,” Trixie said, her voice full of certainty.

  “Yeah, he might have. His mother said he’s been pretty torn up. Said she’s never seen him like this.”

  Really? Kay’s heart fluttered. Then reality swept back over her. “I haven’t even heard from him.” And he’d said next to nothing when I told him I was leaving.

  “Men aren’t always the best at putting their feelings into words, Kay. Sometimes you need to be patient with them,” Rosalie said.

  “Or give them a big nudge,” Trixie added.

  “Or let them off the hook, which is what I did. Look, I know you mean well, but this is hard enough. And it’s not even why I called.”

  “Why did you call?” Rosalie sounded suspicious.

  Kay took a deep breath. “Rhonda’s got bids on the house. She’s going to see what the best offer is…and I’m going to take it.”

  “What?” Rosalie’s voice attained a new pitch of screeching.

  “Oh no,” Trixie said. “I was afraid that’s what you were going to say. Are you sure, Kay? Once you sell the house, that’s it, there’s no getting it back.”

  Tears stung the backs of Kay’s eyes. “I know. I just can’t manage the house while I’m traveling. I had a hard enough time keeping up with repairs while I was there full time, and that was with James helping me out all the time.” The thought of him no longer helping her brought added misery to the way she felt. James was the first person she’d ever let herself lean on, and she’d liked it more than she’d thought was possible. That was her first mistake. She knew better. From the time she’d been a little girl and was sent off to boarding school she’d learned that the only person she should count on was herself. That had worked fine all these years. I shouldn’t have made an exception. Not even for James.

  “Kay,” Trixie said, “are you sure about all this? I’m sure Rhonda can stall for you. That woman can talk anyone into anything.”

  “I don’t want her to stall, Trix, I just want this over with. I’m sorry if you’re both disappointed in me.”

  “We’re not disappointed, honey. We’ll just miss you. All we ever want is for you to be happy.”

  That’s exactly what James said. When Rosalie and Trixie said it she had no trouble believing it. When James said it all she heard was that he was leaving it up to her, which meant he didn’t care one way or the other. She realized that was hypocritical. James had never lied to her, that she knew of, she had no reason not to take him at his word. Her conviction wavered. Should I give him another chance?

  “Kay? Are you still there?”

  “Sorry, I’m here. I really need to get going though. I just wanted to let you know what’s going on. I didn’t want you to hear it at the beauty parlor or something.”

  “Thanks for filling us in.” Trixie sounded sad.

  “Keep us posted.” A hint of annoyance still colored Rosalie’s voice.

  “I will. We’ll talk soon.” Kay hung up feeling completely drained. She considered ordering room service but decided not to bother. There was nothing she felt like having. That was another thing she’d gotten used to. James feeding her like a queen. She’d never enjoyed food as much as she had the whole summer with him. The appeal was gone.

  He’s ruined me for food. How pathetic is that?

  Kay went into the bathroom and scrubbed her face, trying to clear her head. Her phone was ringing when she finished, and she raced toward the desk to grab it. James? She didn’t recognize the number.

  “Sorry, wrong number.” The caller hung up as soon as she answered. She scowled at the phone, turning it on and scrolling through the incoming calls list to make certain she hadn’t missed any messages. She hadn’t.

  Her finger traced over the contacts option, itching to pull up his name and hit dial, but she forced herself to put the phone down. It’ll just make it harder. She crawled into bed, feeling more alone than ever.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Kay Turner?” An unfamiliar male voice sounded in her ear.

  “Yes.” I’m not in the mood for a telemarketer.

  “I’m Philip Callderwell from Escape Magazine.”

  Kay’s heart sputtered. She’d inquired about a position at Escape over a month ago, hoping it would lead to some work in New York, but she’d never heard back.

  “I’m glad I tracked you down. I was just reviewing the portfolio you submitted. You’ve done impressive work, Ms. Turner. Your photos in the upcoming issue of Foodie Fanatic particularly caught my eye. I was hoping you’d be interested in doing some similar shoots in the future.”

  Seriously? Kay’s interest piqued. “What kind of work?”

  “We’re expanding the magazine to include a larger travel and dining section.”

  Kay’s mind raced as she tried to remember everything she’d heard about the magazine. She typed quietly on her laptop, quickly looking up the title and trolling through some freelance message boards. Solid rep. Up-and-coming. “Is this position based in New York?” Please say yes.

  “Our headquarters are in Manhattan, yes, but obviously there’d be some travel. One shoot a month on average. Are you still available?”

  Am I? “I’ll need some time to think it over. I actually have another offer on the table at the moment.”

  “I see. Why don’t I email you some further information and we can set up a time tomorrow to discuss it in more detail once you’ve had a chance to look it over? I’m excited about the prospect of working with you, Ms. Turner. I think you’d be a fantastic addition to our team.”

  Kay hung up, wishing she could replay the conversation to make sure she’d heard him right. She’d had a steady stream of offers, but nothing she couldn’t turn down. Now had two plum assignments vying for her attention. “When it rains it pours.” Her grandmother’s knowing voice rang in her head.

  Although the Canada contract was still tempting, the last several days had reminded Kay of why she didn’t like the shoots that involved back-to-back locations. That had been exciting when she was younger, but it had grown tiresome. More so than she’d let herself admit. Twelve shoots a year. Based in New York. That sounded so much better. Why couldn’t this offer have come a few weeks earlier? Then I wouldn’t have left James.

  The words hit her like pellets. I wouldn’t have left James.

  Oh God. James. She wanted to call and tell him the news. To say she might have a chance to come back so they could try again. Would he even want that? Or did I wreck everything?

  James got the advanced copy of Foodie Fanatics magazine. He wanted to read the article, but he didn’t want to see Kay’s photos. He still hadn’t been able to get her off his mind, and he had too much to do to get sucked back into dwelling on it. They’re photos. That’s it. He couldn’t help but remember how much fun they’d had shooting them.

  They’d spent two entire days and nights together, cooking, eating and taking the pictures. Not only did he love the way the photographs had come out, he loved watching her work. Her intensity was mesmerizing, yet she still managed to make it fun. The fact that they’d gotten to feed each other most of the props after making love on the floor behind the bar had just been the ideal cap to each fantastic day. Now it was just a reminder of what he’d lost.

  He shoved the magazine to the side of his desk with a little too much force, and it tumbled off the edge, fluttering to the ground, landing open. There was the title staring up at him, over a picture of a steaming bowl of Kay’s grandmother’s soup: “Hot, Homey and Haute: The Perfect Blend of Tradition and Today.”

  Shit. He picked up the magazine, running his fingers over the images. The emptiness inside him felt cavernous. This is ridiculous. He snatched his phone and scrolled to her number, pausing a second, his thumb hovering over
her name. What if she doesn’t want to hear from me? I don’t care. He pressed down then brought the phone to his ear.

  His knee knocked into the side of the desk as he crossed his legs, trying to sit still. After the fourth ring the call went to voicemail. “Hey, Kay. It’s me. I wanted to see how you’re doing up there in Canada. I hope everything’s going well for you…” None of this was what he wanted to say, but he didn’t really want to have a conversation with her voicemail. “Look, call me sometime. I miss you. I’d like to hear your voice.” He ended the call before he could say anything else. At least the second half of the message had been more honest. He was dying to hear her voice, and he missed her like he’d never missed anyone. Once again she had him feeling like a teenager, waiting to see if the girl he called would call him back. Jesus Christ.

  He headed into the main dining room, checking his phone to make sure it had a signal after he set it down on the bar. Goddamned teenager. He got the inventory sheet from behind the bar and started checking off the list. When his phone rang minutes later he nearly knocked it onto the floor in his hurry to open it. Her name, lit up on the small screen, sent a rush of adrenaline through him.

  “Hey.” He shoved his hair off his face.

  “Hi.” Her voice was soft, the single word soothing. “I’m glad you called.”

  He felt some of the tension ebb out of his shoulder. “Glad you called back. How are you? How’s the job?”

  “Crazy. I don’t think I like traveling as much as I used to.” She breathed a short laugh into the phone.

  Then come home. He almost said it. “Must get tiring.”

  “It is.” She paused. “I got another offer. A different job. I may actually take that instead.”

  She sounded breathless, as if she was excited or nervous. “What’s the job?”

  “Actually, I kind of have you to thank for it. A magazine editor liked the shots I took of your food, and they’re looking for someone for their travel and dining section.”