by Jeannie Moon
As soon as the hostess took their coats, they slid into the booth and Jane took him by surprise. “That’s hard for you, isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry? What?” He wasn’t sure to what she was referring.
“The way people talk. I mean, it can’t be easy.” The couple on the street, he realized. He hadn’t drawn attention to it, but Jane noticed.
“Ahh. Yeah.” He folded his hands on the table and focused on his fingers as he wound them in and out. “I try to ignore it, but it’s not fun. I prefer flying under the radar.”
“I can imagine.” She glanced around slowly, taking in every detail. Ever the scientist, Jane drew information from what she saw. It was always a kick watching her absorb information; he figured after all these years, she was even more astute. “This is really a beautiful place. These pre-war buildings in the village always turn my head. I wonder what kinds of stories are here. If we opened up a wall, what would we find?”
He smiled. They were cut from the same cloth. “I think we’re in the same business, you and I.”
“You think so? I don’t know. I just sell books.”
That was possibly the biggest understatement he’d ever heard. “You’re undergraduate degree was in archeology, right?”
“Yes. I had minors in classics and biological anthropology.”
“Yeesh. Biological anthropology? That sounds like a headache to me.”
“It was a headache, trust me on that. I have no idea why I added the biology piece.”
“You were never happy unless you were torturing yourself. I think it was an illness of some sort.”
“No! That’s not true.”
“Seriously? Who argued her way into AP Chemistry? You would have aced regular Chem, but no—you wanted a challenge.”
“Hmmpf.” She turned that little button nose of hers up in the air, feigning offense. “There’s no shame in wanting a challenge.”
“There’s a challenge and then there’s being a masochist.” Dan was watching her intently, waiting for her to disagree. When she didn’t, he continued. “Back to my point, as an archeologist, you pieced together stories from what you found.”
“I used science to examine artifacts and material remains of a community or civilization to construct a history.”
“You employed science, I use words and my out-of-control imagination, but we’re both storytellers.” He noticed her use of the past tense.
She was about to answer when the hostess returned to take their drink orders. She was accompanied by the chef, who explained the tasting menu and what they could expect over the course of the evening. Chef asked about food allergies and restrictions, and once he was satisfied that he’d gotten a good read on what they would like, he was off.
“This should be interesting. He seemed very laid-back for a chef. They usually scare the bejesus out of me,” she joked.
“The kitchen is getting rave reviews, but you’re right it could be an adventure depending on how much ego he possesses. When I was in Paris on a tour stop, my French publicist took me to this ridiculously expensive restaurant in an equally ridiculous hotel. I think it was fifteen hundred dollars for two of us for the tasting menu.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding? Did that at least include the wine?”
“No! Everything was extra. You wanted truffle cream on something, and it was another hundred bucks. If you wanted the sommelier to pair the wine, which we did, it was another surcharge. I wasn’t paying, so I didn’t care, but when they brought out one of the main courses, and it was roast pigeon, not squab, pigeon, I lost it. I think I laughed for five minutes. Offended the hell out of pretty much everyone.”
Jane shook her head in disbelief, clucking at him like his nonna used to do. “Such an ugly American.”
“Come on. They called it a delicacy. It’s a freaking pigeon. The same birds that would sit on my terrace and leave a mess, but now I’m looking at it on my plate, with its little toasted pigeon feet sticking up…I’m sorry, it was weird. And funny.”
She was giggling now. Her smile was wide and bright, and her eyes flashed with amusement. “That is funny. I mean, oh my God, what a visual, the little…f-feet—” Jane stuck her index fingers up in the air and waggled them.
That was the end of her composure. Dan watched as the burst of laughter exploded from her belly, and he went right along with her. The ache in his chest was wonderful, freeing, and watching Jane trying to catch her breath was only making him laugh harder. The pure joy in her features, the abandon with which she cut loose, made his heart happy.
Finally, Jane gasped, sucking in air, and shushed him when she noticed the other diners were staring. “We’re so classy.”
“We might end up eating pizza at your house if we don’t settle down.”
Jane nodded and dabbed at her eyes. “God. I haven’t laughed like that in a long time,” she said.
He hadn’t either. And it felt really good.
*
Jane couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. The meal was sublime, a combination of tastes and textures that brought her senses to life, but it was the company that made the evening special. She had missed her friend.
In high school, they’d hung out, studied, talked on the phone for hours, but they hadn’t considered themselves a couple. They were close, but that particular line had never been crossed.
It was the summer before Danny went to law school, and Jane took off to Lapland in Finland to work on a dig before she started grad school. They’d been inseparable, and she thought things had changed between them. If it was possible, they were closer than they had ever been.
Like before, long nights were spent in the back of the store. They’d talked about everything from families, school, friends, and their dreams. He wasn’t writing as much, but he still talked about it, about the stories that he wanted to put on paper. Jane knew the secrets he shared meant something. He’d trusted her, and that trust had been at the root of their relationship.
A relationship that obviously meant more to her than it did to him.
With the delicious dinner behind them, they left the restaurant and stepped into the chilly night. The streets had quieted, and surprisingly, snow was drifting from the sky. It was just a flurry, but it made everything a little more magical. Securing the top button of her coat, and flipping up the hood, she felt herself smile.
“Do you mind if we walk a little? I want to let that meal settle.”
Jane looked up at him, his features softer in the streetlights. “I don’t mind.”
He offered his elbow and as she did earlier, Jane slipped her arm through his. It wasn’t intimate, but it was romantic, and Jane had to push the wistful lightness swirling through her back down into the little space in her heart where it belonged. Danny wasn’t going to stay in Angel Harbor. He had a life to return to, and Jane wasn’t going to suffer the fallout from unrealistic expectations.
“We spent the entire meal talking about me,” he said. “What about you? You’ve got a thriving business and a daughter. You know everyone. How has it been putting down roots in town?”
How did she answer that? Her life plan had essentially blown up before it even had a chance to get moving. Jane was on the cusp of her dreams when she was shaken awake by the loss of her father. Not only was she grieving the man who had encouraged her every step of the way, but all her goals and aspirations were yanked away at the same time. The loss was brutal.
Jane adored her mother—she was a good woman who’d been cast adrift after her father’s death. She and Dad were true soul mates, but there was no question in her mom’s mind that Jane would be the one to keep the business alive. Her mother was still teaching and owned 51 percent of the store, which meant at the time, Jane couldn’t sell it if she wanted to. Not to mention, she was easily guilted into doing what everyone else thought was the right thing.
In spite of feeling like she’d missed out on the life she’d planned, Jane would never
regret her choices or having her daughter. Whatever had happened, Tara was her prize.
“My daughter is my greatest gift and my best work,” Jane responded truthfully.
“She seems like a great kid. Looks like you at that age except for the hair. Her dad…”
“Is not in the picture. He never has been.”
“Never?”
“No,” she said curtly.
Danny nodded and let it drop, making Jane feel bad for being so short with him. He didn’t know what had happened. How could he? So she did something she never did…she talked about her ex. “He was a history professor at the state university. I was trying to keep up with some grad classes while I ran the store, and I met him at a department colloquium.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, it’s okay.” She gripped his arm tighter, forcing herself closer. “Ari was handsome and charming. So smart. I could listen to him for hours. We met, really hit it off, and were married within a year. I was pregnant three months later.”
“That does not sound like you. You’re always so careful.”
“Right? I shouldn’t have rushed it, but I was in my early thirties, I’d barely dated, and I thought it could work. He seemed happy where he was, secure.”
“I’m guessing that wasn’t the case.”
“You would be correct. As soon as the lines on the stick turned blue, our marriage went south.”
“I’m sorry, Jane.”
“Stuff happens.” Jane never talked about her ex, about the hurt, about the crushing fear. “When I was just out of my first trimester, he took a visiting professorship in California. You know, just for a few months.”
“A few months?”
Jane breathed deep. It amazed her how hard it was to talk about what had happened, even after all this time. “It wasn’t a few months.”
Danny reached his other arm across and took her gloved hand in his. “It became permanent?”
“A tenure track position. He never came back.”
Danny stopped and turned to face her. “I’m sorry. What? Never?”
“Nope. He’s never met his amazing daughter.”
“Sonofabitch.”
“That’s accurate.” Uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her, she motioned that they should start walking again. “On the plus side, his family was quite well off, and he invested a substantial sum for Tara when she was born. He didn’t want anything to do with her, but as a result of that investment, my daughter has a trust fund that will give her the freedom to go to college debt free, and have a nest egg.”
“That’s nice, I guess, but I still can’t believe he just left.”
“Believe it. She doesn’t even carry his name. She’s a Fallon.”
“It must hurt, though,” he said kindly.
“Sometimes. Personally, I know I dodged a bullet. He was charming, brilliant beyond words, but Ari is an arrogant snob. I feel bad that Tara knows her father walked away. I tried to couch the truth, but I wasn’t going to lie to her. Money aside, that’s a bitter pill.”
Silence descended, and the light snow made it all the more poignant.
“What about you?” she asked. “Any exes?”
“I’ve had relationships that didn’t work out, but I never married if that’s what you’re asking.”
That was a shame. It would have been nice if one of them had been able to make a go of marriage. “Married to your work, I guess?”
“I don’t know if that’s it.” Danny moved the arm she was holding and looped it around her shoulder, pulling her close. “I’m glad you were free tonight. This was nice.”
Jane looked up. His smile was sweet and genuine, revealing the lone dimple in his right cheek. “I’m glad I was free too.”
“Your store is hopping. I’m so impressed. It’s much more than retail space.”
“It is. It’s part store, part community center. The town depends on us. I’m thinking about expanding. You’re the first person I’ve said that to out loud.” She hesitated. The evening had been lovely, and Jane didn’t want to spoil it.
He noticed. Danny’s pace slowed and he turned to her.
“What?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” That was a lie—she did want to talk about it. She wanted to tell someone, if only to let go of the feelings she’d been carrying around. But not here, not now with the quiet streets whispering to her to enjoy this moment.
“Too late to stuff that one back in the bottle. What gives?”
Jane was at war with herself. She had so much to be grateful for, but life as she knew it, the one she’d nurtured all these years, was going to change and she didn’t know if she was ready.
“I said ‘us.’ There’s not going to be an us in a few months. Just me. I bought my mother out of the store last year, and she’s going to spend the colder months where it’s warm, do some traveling. Tara will be going to college at the end of the summer.” Just the thought of it brought raw emotion to her throat, so she urged him back to their walk before she completely broke down. She was excited for her mom, and for Tara, but that didn’t mean she didn’t hate how it was going to affect her.
“Change really sucks sometimes.”
“It really does,” she agreed. “I don’t know. Nothing is sitting right with me. My whole life feels like it’s in flux.”
“Is there something else?” He picked up on her worry.
Was there? On paper, everything seemed fine, but Jane wasn’t so sure. “I can’t get an answer about my lease. I should have seen the renewal by now, but I haven’t. My attorney has been trying to talk to the landlord, about the existing space and expanding into the small house next door, but he keeps getting the runaround. He said I shouldn’t worry.”
“But you are worried.”
“I’ve always had the new lease in hand well before the old one expired.”
“When is that?” He still had his arm looped around her as they walked. She found the contact wonderfully comforting.
“The end of February.”
Danny took a deep breath and she could see his brow furrow as he thought. “From a legal standpoint, you have plenty of time.”
“Oh, I know I do.” He was absolutely right, but that did nothing to quiet the sinking feeling in her stomach.
“But?”
“I don’t know. It’s just…a feeling. That’s all. I’m probably worrying for nothing.”
“You’ve always had solid intuition. Is there some reason you think they won’t renew?
“Not specifically.”
“How long has the store been there? A hundred years?”
Danny’s question made Jane think about the photos of the bookstore over the years that graced the walls in the shop. It had been a remarkable evolution and the memories eased her into telling the story.
“Almost. The Van Velt family has owned the building that houses the store, and the one next to it, since the mid-thirties. The original Mr. Van Velt, whose name was Charlie, was friends with my grandfather. He leased him the building because he believed in Daddo. He agreed that Angel Harbor needed a bookstore, and that a new business starting up during the Great Depression would give the town hope. Charlie Van Velt knew Paddy Fallon would take good care of the property, and he did. Over the years, any improvements that were made have been at our expense, but the Fallons didn’t mind because the place was home.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see she had his full attention, so she kept going.
“Mr. Van Velt left the building to his kids, and they left it to theirs. The whole time, the lease stayed in effect.”
“Wow. That’s unheard of.”
“One of his great-grandchildren said pretty much the same thing. The family left Long Island in the late eighties, I think. The man, Charlie’s great-grandson, came by the store last summer when they were on their way to a wedding at a vineyard out east. He was pleasant enough. Looked
around, bought a book.”
They arrived at his car just as she finished. The proverbial lump wedged in her throat while tears gathered behind her eyes.
“So why are you worried? It sounds uneventful. Is the landlord losing a ton of money?”
“No. My rent is right where it should be in this market. The building has been paid off for years.”
“Then what is it?” His words, kind and without judgment, brought a swell of emotion.
Jane looked away. “This wasn’t my choice, you know? I was going to do research and teach and discover amazing things. The store just happened. When my dad died, it became my responsibility. Now my whole life is here, and everything is changing. I’m probably worried about nothing, but what if—”
Danny didn’t respond. He just let her ramble, and Jane figured he was spooked now that he knew she was a breath away from falling apart over something hypothetical. The last thing she expected was for him to pull her into his arms and hold on.
“Come here.”
He didn’t offer platitudes or advice. He didn’t try to distract her. What Danny offered was compassion and understanding, and perhaps most importantly, he offered friendship. His body provided support, physically and emotionally, and a strength that Jane gave in to because it just felt good to be held. His chest was hard, his breathing steady and his arms gave her a sense of safety she only now realized she’d missed. Jane wasn’t a helpless woman. She was the one who people called on when they needed help, so having someone take care of her was as confusing as it was comforting.
She didn’t want to move, relishing the feel of him. How long had it been since she’d let someone else bear a bit of the load, even for a little while?
She was always the one who stayed strong, who figured things out. But this was different and Danny must have sensed that.
Taking a step back, Jane smiled up at him. His hair was lightly dusted with snow, and his mouth ticked up at the corners. In his eyes she saw the boy she knew and the man he had become. It was a contrast and a complement at the same time. For her part, Jane was just happy she had the chance to be with him again.