by Jeannie Moon
“Thank you. For dinner, and for listening to me. It was nice to be able to lean on somebody.”
His smile grew wider and he pressed the button on the key fob, letting her into the car. When he got in on the other side, he leaned over and without warning, kissed her gently on the cheek. It was a peck, nothing more, but the sweetness of it damn near made her cry.
“You were always the strong one, Janie. You listened to me for hours and hours, helped me find my voice, read my stories and you never judged me. You can lean on me anytime you want.”
Her heart swelled remembering how they were when they were together. There was always a feeling of well-being when she was with him. That hadn’t changed. But what about when he left? She didn’t say that to him, even though it hung over her like a dark cloud. Danny wasn’t back in Angel Harbor permanently. Jane appreciated his kindness more than she could articulate, but lean on him? Maybe she could in the short term, but Danny’s time here was finite, and the last thing she needed was for him to break her heart all over again.
Chapter Six
When he pulled up the driveway to his cottage, Dan saw a glow from the stone patio Mel and Peter had installed on the side of the house. Connected to the dining room by French doors, the crowning glory of the outdoor room was a huge river rock fireplace, surrounded by a collection of comfortable seating. The garden that encircled the whole yard had been replanted with yellow, orange, and red mums, which now had a very light glaze of snow from the flurries earlier. Dan’s house in Hawaii had a view of the Pacific, but the warmth of this backyard on a chilly fall night beat it hands down.
Tucked together under a plaid blanket on a double chaise were his sister and brother-in-law. They each had a steaming mug in their hands and were gazing quietly at the yellow-orange flames behind the mesh screen. He didn’t know if this was a romantic moment, or if they were just exhausted. When Melinda yawned wide and loud, he had his answer.
“Long day?” He found a seat on the other side of the hearth, feeling the fire’s heat immediately.
The two of them nodded in time with the other, looking like they had been to hell and back.
“The kids were difficult tonight,” Peter said. His emphasis on difficult was a tell. His brother-in-law taught middle school science and not much spooked the guy. Considering he worked in a place that was a vat of cooking hormones, to hear the kids were “difficult,” meant they were far worse.
“Oh, boy.” Dan had seen the normal bickering you would expect from three siblings, but it was never so bad that his sister had the tortured expression of a refugee from a war zone. Tonight, as she sipped whatever was in that mug, her face stayed frozen, her eyes fixed.
“Yeah, they started fighting the minute they sat down at dinner and didn’t stop until we closed them all into their bedrooms two hours later. That was after Ella blew a gasket and dumped water on Jamie’s head. There was sporadic screaming through the walls until about forty minutes ago. It was heated.” Peter chuckled, but it was that nervous I-need-another-drink kind of chuckle.
Hearing that Ella—sweet, docile Ella—had lost her temper proved once again, you never really knew a person until you pushed all her buttons. It was probably good for the family to see she had limits.
They sat quietly for a moment, Dan not knowing what to say. He didn’t have kids of his own and didn’t feel qualified to weigh in. He looked down at his hands, trying to think of something wise or pithy, when his sister broke the silence.
“How was your date?”
Dan looked up to find Mel staring at him, waiting for an answer.
“Uh. Good. We had a nice dinner. Took a walk.”
With a wave of her hand she motioned for him to go on. “And?”
And? What did she want to know? “I’m not sure what you expect to hear. We had a nice time. It was good to get out.”
Peter pulled a bottle of Glenlivet from a basket next to the chaise and poured a finger in a glass that appeared from the same stash. He handed it to Dan, who accepted it, but he still didn’t know what to tell them.
“Well,” Peter began, “Jane Fallon does not date. More than a few men in town have tried to get her to go out with them. She’s not interested.”
“I don’t see how it’s relevant.” Sipping the Scotch, Dan was surprised at how happy that revelation made him. “Jane has a very full plate.”
“Obviously, she found time for you.” His brother-in-law was never cagey. He was getting at something.
“She did. Just lucky, I guess.” Damn lucky.
“So, it was dinner. You aren’t trying to rekindle your old romance, are you?” Mel asked.
Where the hell had that come from? “We never had a romance. We were very close friends. We still are…friends.”
And maybe a little bit more. Hopefully.
Not knowing which of his statements triggered it, his sister burst out laughing. “Are you serious? You two were inseparable. Of course you had…” Melinda trailed off and leaned in, locking her gaze on him. “Jesus. You can’t be that obtuse. Do you really think that?”
The truth was he never really thought about it much until recently. So, the answer to the obtuse question was probably “yes.”
Before leaving for law school, Dan knew his relationship with Jane was more than friendship. Mel was right. That summer, they had spent every minute they could together, and while things never got physical, they were bonded on every other level. Then he left.
He never came back, even though she’d admitted to him that she wanted more. Felt more. A relationship with Jane would have upended both their futures. They were thousands of miles apart, and it’s not like they had cell phones to keep in touch back then. Long distance was truly long distance. It was an impossible situation that would have ultimately led one of them to give up on his or her dream, for the other.
“It was complicated.” Yeah, that was lame.
“Complicated? No. You were an ass.”
“Mel, this is in the past.” He knew he’d been a jackass, but that didn’t mean he wanted to kill the buzz from his evening by rehashing all the ways he’d screwed up.
“For you it’s in the past. But Jane lives with her father’s death every day. Every single day. Mom and I went to the funeral, you know. We brought meals. Everyone in town helped out at the store.”
“The Fallons have always been loved in town. That doesn’t surprise me.”
Mel looked away. “Well, you know what surprised everyone? That you were nowhere to be found. Everyone knew you and Jane were close. She asked Mom a couple of times if she’d heard from you.”
“Who did?”
“Jane. She was grieving, Danny, and you didn’t even send her a card.”
“I’m not proud of myself.” His sister was right. He should have called, visited…something. There were a lot of “should haves.” Too many.
He was an idiot, and a heartless one if he actually had the guts to face the truth. There were so many times he’d picked up the phone to call her, but he never did. Jane would have changed his world, and he wasn’t man enough to take the risk.
He never fully got over his feelings for her. Acknowledging that, it made perfect sense that when he had hit rock bottom, he cast the lifeline in her direction.
*
Jane had hit that strange place in her life where her child was trying to act like the parent. Her daughter was sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of steaming tea and her schoolbooks spread out in front of her. The way she glanced up, her blue eyes hooded by her lashes, made Jane feel like she’d broken curfew.
“There you are. I was so worried! For all I knew you were dead in a ditch someplace.”
“Very funny. Obviously, I’m fine.”
“Don’t you sass me, missy. Are your fingers broken that you couldn’t call?”
Jane hung her coat on the hook by the back door and smiled at her daughter who was having some fun at her expense. “Sorry. I left you a note.”
&nb
sp; “Yes.” Tara picked up the note and waved it around. “Out to dinner. That’s all! Not a word about where you were, who you were with, or when you would be home.”
“What-ever.” Jane played along, rolling her eyes and clucking her tongue for effect. “I get it. But for the record, you’re not the boss of me.”
Tara laughed and pulled a large gray-blue porcelain mug from the cabinet and poured her old mom a cup of tea from the matching teapot. Jane settled into a chair at the island knowing she was going to long for nights like this when Tara went off to school. The more she thought about it, the more her heart hurt.
Her baby had been a real handful. She walked early, talked early, and knew what she did and didn’t like. That had never changed. To this day, Tara was one of the most stubborn people Jane had ever met. She was also one of the most determined.
Her girl never gave up. If she set a goal for herself, she worked until she achieved it. Once that goal was reached, she set the next one. For someone who was so artistic, she was as methodical as any scientist Jane had ever met.
While she sipped her tea, Jane watched Tara’s body language. She was fidgety, fussing with her fingers and rubbing her temples. It was obvious her daughter had something on her mind. Jane had a feeling she knew what it was. “So, how was the last dress rehearsal, Madam Stage Manager?”
Tara sighed, long and dramatic. “Oh, you know that old saying: bad rehearsal, great show?”
Jane nodded, knowing what was coming. “Yeah.”
“If it’s true, we’re going to have an amazing show! A Tony-worthy show.” Her sarcasm wasn’t the least bit subtle, betraying the worry she was feeling deep down.
“Ouch. That bad?”
“It was a disaster. Actors were missing their cues, stage crew was a mess, the sets aren’t done… Are you sure you want to come? Hennings is ready to bolt. I think he may move his family to the Yukon or something.” Their faculty director was prone to the dramatic, but in this case, it sounded like the reaction was appropriate.
“What kind of mother do you think I am? I’ll be there.”
“You’re a glutton for punishment, Mom. Grandma won’t be home, will she?”
“No, she’s having such a good time, she’s not coming home until Sunday.”
“Good. She’d have a stroke.”
Jane laughed. That was the truth. Her mother was a former stage actress, and while she could recognize that the students were just students, she had no patience for shoddy preparation. Jane on the other hand was more forgiving, relishing the strength and leadership her daughter was showing.
“I can’t do anything about the cast, but I’m running drills with the crew after school tomorrow. I won’t see you until after tomorrow’s show.”
“Not a problem. I’m working tomorrow night. I’ll be there on Saturday with Tracy.”
“Okay. Be kind.” It must have been one horrible rehearsal if Tara had to remind her own mother to be nice.
“No worries.”
Jane sipped her tea, letting the warmth of the fragrant liquid ease through her. Tara wasn’t looking up, but Jane sensed there was something going on inside that head of hers. The girl’s brain spun at warp speed, especially when she was in a story.
“How was your dinner?” Tara asked finally. Glancing up, her eyes were bright and inquisitive. Nosy girl.
“It was…it was very nice. We went to Kent’s. It has a tasting menu. Different.”
“And this Danny guy? You’re old friends?”
“Uh, yes.” They were. That wasn’t a lie. “From high school. And after.”
“I called Aunt Tracy.”
Fuzznuts. “Really? Why?”
“Because you went on a date, with this guy.” Tara spun her laptop around with quite the theatrical flair, and there on the screen was Danny’s website, with all his dark, sexy gorgeousness right there in front of her. The reaction to him, the fresh memory of how he felt, rocked her to the core.
“Did your aunt give me up? Because really, I’m fifty years old. I think I can go out to dinner with an old friend without it becoming a federal case.”
“Mom! Old friend? He’s a famous writer, and you went out with him!” Tara was somewhere between giddy and horrified. “He’s Dan-Freaking-Gallo! He’s right up there with…” she waved her hands around “…Stephen King and Nora Roberts!”
“I’m aware of who he is; however, it was NOT a date.” Jane kept her eyes steady, but her nerves were rattling like she’d been mainlining coffee.
“No? You look very nice.”
“So? Because I put on a dress, that makes it a date?”
“You’re wearing makeup.”
“I wear makeup almost every day, and besides, I had to cover the racoon eyes, didn’t I?” Jane did not want to go around in circles about this. She especially didn’t want to do it with her seventeen-year-old.
“Stop it. You don’t have raccoon eyes. Did he pick you up?”
“Yes, but—”
“He paid for dinner?”
Crapola.
“Yes,” Jane whispered. “He did. Can you stop now?”
Her daughter folded her arms and leaned back in the chair. She was such a know-it-all. “Welp. What did we learn here this evening, kids?”
Chloe barked in response. Everyone had an opinion.
Jane pressed her forehead onto the cold granite countertop. She was much happier when she was living in a state of denial. Turning her head to the side she locked eyes with Tara. “Okay, maybe it was kind of…”
“A. Date. HA!” Tara leaned in, only inches now from Jane’s nose. “More power to you, Mom—he’s hot. I mean…” She paused, grinned. “For an old guy.”
Jane sat up, not appreciating the “old guy” comment. “That’s not nice.”
“So, um…did he kiss you?”
“Excuse me?” On the cheek, she thought. And he held her. God, did that feel good. He was all warm, and strong. But it was just two old friends, and he was offering her comfort after hearing her tale of woe. Reading anything into it was courting disaster. He was being kind. That was all.
“Not going to tell me?” Tara was really pushing her luck. Jane didn’t know how she felt about this sudden burst of interest in her life. It was sweet, in a way, but it was also annoying. Thinking about it, if she asked Tara the same questions, she’d get some serious pushback. “Mom…?”
“It’s NONE of your business. But no, he didn’t. So, no date.”
Tara stood and smiled, her eyes glittering in the soft light of the kitchen. She was looking more beautiful and more mature than Jane had ever seen. Her girl was a strong, articulate woman and it had happened in a flash. “If you say so, Mom.”
“Don’t be fresh.”
“I won’t, but I do have one more question.” With an about-face that made Jane sit back, her daughter’s teasing subsided, and gave way to a giddy hopefulness. Tara was back to twisting her fingers. “How long do you think he’s staying in town?”
“I don’t know. He’s working on a new book and wanted to go off the grid. I don’t think it’s going to be much of a secret in town, but don’t broadcast it. As far as how long? Through Christmas? But that’s a guess.”
Nodding, Tara took a deep breath, appearing to ponder what she was going to say next. There was almost a hint of hero worship. “Do you think he’d, I don’t know, talk to me about writing? I just want to pick his brain.”
Yeah, definitely hero worship.
“I’m sure he would. He was asking about you, by the way, about your aspirations. I’m sure he’d love to talk shop.”
Tara nodded, doing her best to stay cool when she was obviously having an internal freak-out. “That would be really great. Really.”
“I’ll mention it to him. You can chat after the play wraps.”
“Okay. Um, thanks.” There was nothing quite so wonderful as seeing the joy dancing in her daughter’s eyes. Talking to someone with Danny’s stature and success was like a fledglin
g guitar player talking to Jimi Hendrix. “I’m going to bed,” she said.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” Jane leaned into her daughter’s kiss goodnight. As Tara left the room, Jane remembered something she wanted to say and called her back. “Hey, Tee?”
“Yeah?” When she walked back in the kitchen, her phone was in hand.
“Make sure you call your Aunt Tracy to fill her in.”
Tara raised an eyebrow to go along with her wry grin. “Not necessary.”
Just then, as if in response to some cosmic stage direction, Jane’s phone rang, and the caller ID told her it was none other than Tracy. Her timing was impeccable.
“Night, Mom.”
“Night.” Jane looked at the ringing phone and resigned herself to the fact that she was in for a very long conversation about a boy. Some things didn’t change. “Hey.”
Tracy took a deep breath and began. “Tell me everything.”
Chapter Seven
Danny stood outside the bookstore thinking about what his sister had said last night regarding his relationship with Jane. He’d enjoyed dinner; it was the best time he’d had in ages, probably because whatever was simmering between them had deep roots that had the potential to go way deeper. But Mel was right—he had to make some amends before this went any further.
When he came back to Long Island, he had one goal, and one goal only: to write his next book. Reconnecting with people, especially his sweet friend, wasn’t something he’d considered. Or had he? The time he’d spent at the bookstore over the past week had been the stimulus he’d needed to trigger his creative brain. Getting back to his origins, as well as a pure process, was helping the words flow.
Was she part of that? Was Jane his inspiration? Her presence calmed and settled him; there was no denying the special magic she possessed. It forced him to think about everything he’d missed because he’d walked away from her.
The town was acting like a character with a full and complete life. It had feelings and moods, and Danny should’ve remembered how those moods could mess with him. Even the weather could play games. His time living in Hawaii had made his body less tolerant of extremes, so the cold snap had kept him from running. He’d missed the time outside, using his sister’s treadmill instead. But it wasn’t the same. Nothing was the same since he’d come home.