Until Winter Breaks

by Elana Johnson

  “You were eavesdropping?” He clutched his chest as his eyes widened. “I didn’t peg you for a spy, Miss Larson.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” she lied. She’d hovered outside the door for most of the conversation.

  “Right,” he said, chuckling. “That’s why you called the Sheriff the morning of the gale. You didn’t mean to.” His gentle chortle turned into a full-blown laugh.

  She couldn’t help giggling with him. “I was worried about you then.”

  He reached over and laced his fingers through hers. “Are you worried about me now?”

  “Yes.” At least that was the truth, even if he didn’t know she worried about him abandoning her because he might grow bored with his childhood home, or something might drive him away from it, like had happened before, or that an accident could steal him from her before they’d experienced a future together at all.

  She returned her attention to the ocean. It, at least, wasn’t going anywhere.

  * * *

  Millie tucked Jared into his bed after he’d admitted his leg ached and he was tired. She waited with him while he drifted off, hoping to confess everything to him while he was drugged, as she had the previous night. She knew he hadn’t heard her when she’d told him about Brady. She knew she needed to come clean, gather her strength, and tell him when he was awake and listening.

  She paused in the doorway and turned back to his sleeping form. “I was married once,” she whispered, just as she had last night. It was easy to vocalize when she knew he couldn’t hear. Why couldn’t she tell him when he was conscious? That morning on the balcony would’ve worked. And yet, she’d said nothing.

  She left, arriving at her shop an hour later than normal. Not that it mattered. There wasn’t a line out the door to buy baptism dresses or ball gowns. She put her purse in the cabinet in the sewing room and moved into the showroom, switching on lights as she went. After unlocking the front door and flipping on the neon open sign, she stalled at the checkout counter.

  She stared at herself in the picture, a strong thread of self-loathing stringing itself through her subconscious. Anger roared within.

  “Why did you have to go?” she demanded, willing the photograph of Brady to answer. She’d never questioned him about his hobbies when he was alive, and after he died he couldn’t answer.

  “Why wasn’t I exciting enough for you?” Her voice tore on the last word. As realization hit her, she slammed the frame face down on the counter and walked away. Walked away, even though the shattering sound of breaking glass meant she’d broken the frame. Walked away, just the way Brady had that fateful day in May, when he’d promised he’d come home safe.

  She’d left Seattle then, and she wanted to run from herself—from Brady—now. She had her purse out of the cabinet and her keys shaking in her hands when the bell on the front door chimed.

  Millie did an about-face, swiped at her glassy eyes, and returned to the showroom. “Sadie,” she said, deflating at the sight of her best friend. “Why aren’t you at work?”

  “I don’t go in until noon,” Sadie said. “Thought I’d stop by.” She came closer and hugged Millie. “What’s wrong, Mills?”

  She staved off a sob. “I smashed the picture of me and Brady.”

  Sadie glanced toward the counter, though she couldn’t see the frame. “I’m so sorry.”

  Millie started shaking her head and couldn’t stop. “No, it’s fine. I’m tired of being tied to him. Tired of being unavailable.”

  Hope entered Sadie’s eyes. “Does this have anything to do with Hello, Neighbor?”

  “Yes,” Millie said bluntly. “He got hurt, you know? At first I thought it was because he’s as reckless as Brady. That he went cliff diving. I felt like I was reliving the same day I’d already lived.” She pressed her eyes against the memories that hadn’t dimmed, even with years of passage.

  “Turns out he was on his way home from visiting his mom.” She scoffed. “He visits his mom.”

  Sadie put her arm around Millie. “That’s a good thing, right?”

  Millie shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Well, you made it sound like visiting his mom is a national crime. Or something he should be committed for.”

  Millie laughed, the notes bouncing off the high ceiling of her shop. “Well, I don’t do it, so it’s a little foreign to me.”

  “So he was visiting his mom….”

  “And on the way home he stopped at this nature preserve, saw a beached elephant seal, and went to save it. That’s how he got hurt.” Millie wiped her nose, wishing she didn’t feel so close to the edge of insanity. “Not cliff diving.”

  “So you don’t like him because he visits his mom and saves seals?”

  Millie stalked a few steps south. “Exactly.”

  “Mills, you’re not making any sense.”

  “I know!” Millie pressed against her forehead with both palms and pulled her fingers through her hair. “I do like him. A lot. But we fight more than we kiss. And he’s not sure if he’s staying in town. He doesn’t have a job. And—”

  “You’ve kissed him again?” Sadie shrieked. “And I’m just now hearing about it?”

  “Just this morning.” Millie touched her lips, like she could still feel his there. “I stayed with him last night.”

  “You did what?” Sadie grabbed her friend’s shoulders and spun her around. “Where did you stay with him?”

  The frustration and irrational anger drained away. “In his bedroom. He was so out of it. I didn’t dare leave him, and he asked me to stay. So I stayed.”

  “You mean you waited until he fell asleep and then you tiptoed to the couch.”

  Mille shook her head, smiling. “No. I mean I laid next to him until he fell asleep. Then I told him all about Brady.” She touched the soft satin of a bridesmaids dress. “I woke up feeling so guilty, like I’d cheated on Brady. Jared heard me crying, and, the next thing I knew, he was holding me and I was kissing him.”

  Sadie whooped. “And how was it?”

  “Amazing.” Millie’s sigh could’ve extinguished birthday candles. “He’s amazing.” She didn’t know why he was still bothering with her. She certainly didn’t have anything to offer him.

  “Millie, you’re amazing too.” Sadie put her arm around Millie. “You know that, right?”

  “But I’m not.” Millie’s internal fissures cracked, broke, gaped. Every hole on her face started leaking.

  Sadie wrapped both arms around Millie and held her tight. “Yes, you are, sweetie. You are.”

  Millie cried, unable to answer. When she finally composed herself, she asked, “Then why did Brady have to go searching for an adrenaline high? If I’m so amazing, why wasn’t I enough?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jared laid low for a couple of weeks while his leg healed. He finished Polly’s front lawn one day and then rested for three to recover. He painted the exterior of the salon in an afternoon, and paid the price in pain for twenty-four hours.

  He texted Millie every day, but her responses were short and clipped. He didn’t intrude on her morning balcony tea parties, didn’t try to insert himself into her nighttime life, didn’t even call.

  She obviously had some issues she needed to untangle—as did Jared. The few hundred dollars he made mowing lawns and painting planks wouldn’t last very long. As March began, a new idea unfolded in his mind. Even if he couldn’t operate The Sandy Tortilla this summer, he could transform it into something new as a surprise for Sophie as sort of a welcome home gift and an apology for his fifteen-year absence.

  As the days passed, the idea grew, morphed, hooked itself into his mind until he couldn’t let it go. He needed access to the stand, and to get that, he needed to speak with Lucy.

  He arrived at the diner at two o’clock; an hour he hoped would be slow so Lucy would have time to chat. Sure enough, she greeted him at the hostess stand, and he was the only customer.

  “What’ll it be, Jared?” she asked, playing wa
itress too.

  “Bacon cheeseburger,” he said. “Sweet potato fries. And I want to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure. Let me get this out first, and then I can have a sit-down with you.”

  He nodded, though he had no idea what a sit-down was. The food arrived, and Jared dug in as Lucy sat across from him.

  “So you and Millie Larson,” Lucy said.

  Jared swallowed his bite of burger without chewing it, the food landing heavy in his gut. “I don’t think so.”

  “No?” Lucy crossed her arms, a sign that Jared was about to get his sit-down. “Rumor is, she’s been crying at her shop. And since you’re not hanging around there anymore….”

  Jared dumped too much ketchup on his plate and swore. “For the rumor record, Lucy, Millie’s made it really clear she’s not interested in me. Not the other way around.”

  “Doesn’t mean she’s happy about it.”

  “What does that even mean?” Jared stared at his plate of food as his frustration fizzled.

  Lucy leaned her elbows on the table, getting closer to Jared as she spoke softer. “You like her, right?”

  Jared nodded.

  “And she’s been pushing you away.”

  More nodding as Jared lifted his eyes to meet Lucy’s. “Why does she do that and then cry about it?”

  “Women are complicated beings, Jared. Some women do things just to see how someone else will react.”

  Jared puzzled through her words, his eyebrows puckering as he did. “So…I don’t understand.”

  Lucy leaned forward. “Millie showed up in town six years ago. Alone. I thought for sure she’d stay for a month or two and then hit the road again.”

  He picked up a fry and ate it, trying to find the hidden layer of meaning in Lucy’s words. “And?”

  “And maybe she’s doing the same thing now.”

  “She hasn’t moved. Hasn’t even made plans to move. She owns her house.” He dunked another fry in the pool of ketchup, trying to understand as he fueled his body with carbs.

  “Maybe she was trying to see if her family in Seattle would care if she left. Maybe she’s trying to decide if you’ll leave her alone now the way they did then.”

  Jared squinted at Lucy, wishing he could just see inside her brain. “So I shouldn’t let her push me away.” He wasn’t really asking.

  “I mean, if you like her.” Lucy shrugged. “I don’t know Millie really well, but I do know that women usually like it when a guy doesn’t give up on them.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen area, and Jared followed her gaze. He couldn’t see Blaine and Jared had only recently arrived back in town, but even he knew that Blaine Townsend had been sweet on Lucy for a decade.

  “I told Millie she was beautiful,” Jared said, more to his burger than to Lucy. “I told her I liked her. I told her I wanted to spend more time with her.” He cut Lucy a hard look. “I don’t know what else to do.”

  “And have you actually done that?”

  “She won’t answer my texts!”

  Lucy slid out of the booth as a pair of elderly gentlemen entered the diner. “Well, Jared, you know where she is. No one needs an invitation to enter a dress shop.” She led the men to a booth on the opposite side of the diner, and Jared met her at the till.

  “That’s not why I came by,” he asked. “I actually wanted to ask you if you had a key to The Sandy Tortilla. I have nothing but time, and I want to surprise Sophie with a remodel.”

  Lucy considered him for a moment, her eyes unreadable. She didn’t wear a mask the way Millie did, Lucy was just really good at remaining in control.

  “I think it’s a great idea. But I don’t have the key.”

  “Do you know who does?”

  Lucy grinned, her smile splitting her face. “Sophie’s next-door neighbor.”

  * * *

  Jared arrived at the dress shop just after three. He parked on the street out front and entered through the purple door. The bell he’d installed rang and Millie called, “Just a minute!” from the sewing room.

  He allowed himself a quick moment of satisfaction that he’d arranged her inventory perfectly before he stepped to the counter.

  “What can—?” Millie, maskless, stopped when she saw him. “Jared.”

  “Oh, so you do remember my name.” He hadn’t meant to sound so snarky. He remembered Lucy’s brief window into Millie’s past, and he didn’t want to be the one who let her run away, hide in a coastal town just out of his reach.

  “I miss you,” he said. “How about we get that dinner tonight that we never got?”

  “I do have to eat.”

  “Perfect,” Jared said. “I’ll come over around six? Can we drive your car?” He leaned his elbows on the counter. “Unless you want to take a ride on my deathtrap.”

  Millie glanced over her shoulder like she had a guardian angel resting there, giving her advice and directions. “Actually, you know what? I do.”

  Jared pushed away from the counter, surprise bringing his blood to near boiling. “You want to ride my motorcycle with me?” He wasn’t sure what she’d been doing—or who she’d been talking to—in the past two weeks that would help her change her mind about his motorcycle. But he wasn’t going to argue with her about it.

  Millie looked to the counter, and Jared followed her gaze. He noticed the empty spot where that picture used to stand.

  “I know you’ll be careful,” Millie said. “Six is fine.”

  “And fine is good, right?” Jared teased, pocketing his hands so he didn’t reach for her.

  Millie giggled and half-turned back the way she’d come. “Want to see what I’m working on?”

  “Do I ever.” He followed her down the hall and into the sewing room.

  “I got an order last week,” she said, picking up a length of ivory fabric. “A garden party in Arcata. Blaine Townsend told them about my shop, and they ordered three dresses.” She plucked a finished teal dress from a rack and held it against her body.

  “I’m making the second one now. This is the first.” She smoothed the fabric over her chest and stomach. “Do you like it?”

  The lacework looked immaculate. The stitching celestial. The buttons and gems breathtaking. He could’ve commented on any of them. But he couldn’t take his eyes from Millie’s, from how the teal made her tan skin darker, her hair suddenly the color of tar, her eyes like stars.

  “You’re beautiful.” He moved closer and cupped her face. “The dress is stunning, but it’s always about the woman who wears it.”

  “I’m not going to wear it,” she whispered, seemingly unable to look away from him.

  “You’re magnificent in anything you wear.” He stepped back, afraid to push her, but unable to censor himself. “Of course, I’d like to see you wearing nothing, but I’ll take what I can get.”

  “Jared.” She sounded half-amused, half-confused as she hung up the dress. When she turned, he was there, ready to embrace her.

  “I really did miss you, Millie.”

  “I’ve missed you too.” Her breath against his collarbone burned like liquid lava and reminded him of how right he’d felt kissing her.

  “I’ve got an errand to run before dinner,” he said, using every ounce of self-control he had to step away. “I’ll come over at six.”

  She waved; he walked away with her watchful eyes boring into his back.

  * * *

  Millie wanted to leave the shop just after Jared did, but she was determined to finish the bodice of the ivory dress before she went home. Sewing provided her with the distraction from Jared’s perfect words, his heated touch. She had to concentrate to put in the tiny looped jewels; she had to maintain focus to insert the zipper without puckering the fabric; she couldn’t allow even a single stray thought as she stitched lace along the scalloped neckline.

  When she finally finished, the clock read five-fifteen. She ran through the shop, shutting off lights and locking doors. By the time she got home,
she’d barely have time to choose her clothes and refresh her makeup.

  On the drive, she panicked about putting herself on his motorcycle. Sure, she’d ridden with him while he drove her car. She trusted him. Fine, she’d moved further down the road toward trusting him.

  This will just be the next step, she told herself as she skidded into her driveway. Millie wanted to trust Jared. Needed to look past the leather jacket. Forget about her erroneous first impression.

  In her walk-in closet, she flung hangers left, then right. She returned to her bedroom and called Sadie. “What do I wear for a date where I have to ride a motorcycle?”

  Sadie’s squeal nearly deafened Millie. “I’m so glad you’re going out with him.”

  Millie was too. “Thanks for helping me this morning,” she said. “He came by the shop and said he missed me.”

  “Of course he does. So why didn’t you push him away this time?”

  Millie dropped onto her bed. “Everything you and Diana have said these past couple of weeks is right. I need to move on. And I think I’m finally ready to move on.” She got up and returned to her closet. Taking a deep breath, she faced Brady’s old clothes. Maybe she wasn’t quite that ready.

  “So what do I wear? It’s too cold for shorts. I can’t straddle a motorcycle in a skirt.” She eyed her short stack of jeans and leggings.

  “You have that sexy pair of black jeans,” Sadie said. “Wear those with your black and white polka dot top. It’s flowy and see-through and if you wear a skimpy tank underneath….” Sadie let her suggestion hang there, and Millie had the clothes clutched in her hand before she hung up.

  She changed and swiped on a fresh coat of mascara, updated her blush, and slicked on a layer of lip gloss. She replaced the curling iron on the counter as her doorbell rang. She quickly slipped a turquoise necklace over her head and pulled on her heels before clicking to the front door.

  Millie took a moment to breathe, to center herself, to prepare for the beautiful man on the other side of the door.