Forever Again

by Shannon Stacey

  “And I said no.”

  “You guys are my parents. You’re supposed to put what I want above your own feelings.”

  Gena laughed and shook her head. “Where did you read that—some teen magazine advice column? It’s not going to happen, Mia. I did the apple picking, but that’s it.”

  She paced in silence for a minute and Gena knew she was regrouping—planning her next attack. But it didn’t matter because she was not going to sit beside Travis for two hours in the auditorium.

  “You know how much my recitals mean to me,” Mia said in a much softer voice. “Just this once I’d like to have you both there. Just once, and I promise I won’t ask you again.”

  “No.”

  “Mom! You’re supposed to be the adult here. How hard can it be to sit with a guy and listen to music for a couple of hours?”

  Very hard, Gena thought. Too hard.

  Mia hadn’t said a word about the abrupt end to apple picking, for which Gena was thankful. But she had to have noticed the increased tension between her parents, as well as the fact they had managed to stop speaking to each other altogether.

  As hard as that was, she knew it was for the best. She and Travis weren’t capable of being friends, and it was about time they both admitted it.

  “Why don’t you invite your dad to this one and I’ll go to the next one?”

  Mia stopped pacing. “You have to be there. This will be the first time I play Mozart’s Sonata in public and you don’t want to be there?”

  Gena knew this argument was almost over and she was going to lose. “Of course I’m going—”

  “And I want Dad there, too.”

  Her chin still had the stubborn set, but her blue eyes were big and pleading. Gena sighed and surrendered. “Okay, you can invite him.”

  “Umm…I think you should invite him.”

  “You can call him in Boston. He’s your father.”

  Mia rolled her eyes. “If I call him he won’t believe it’s okay with you if he goes. If you call him he’ll know. His number is second on the speed dial.”

  * * * * *

  Travis sent up a silent prayer of thanks when the phone rang. He and Kristen had spent the last two hours sitting on the couch in silence, watching some tearjerker of a movie that made no sense to him. “Hello?”

  “Hi, it’s me…Gena.”

  Her voice reverberated through his body. He had been thinking about her again, just as he had for days. He wanted to call her, but he hadn’t been able to summon the courage. And he didn’t know what he would say to her if he did.

  “Travis?”

  “I’m here,” he said quickly, then he glanced at Kristen.

  She raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. It’s Gena, he mouthed and the eyebrow went up another notch. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and she turned back to the TV.

  “Is Mia okay?” he asked Gena, trying to keep his voice very casual.

  “Yes, but she’s the reason I’m calling. Is this is a bad time?”

  “Not at all. Actually you’re rescuing me from some sappy movie Kristen’s watching.” He wanted Gena to know she was there.

  Without even looking Kristen reached back and slapped his leg, shushing him. He chuckled and went to the kitchen so he wouldn’t disturb her further. And—maybe just a little—so he could be alone with Gena.

  She was silent for a long time and he wondered what she was thinking about. Him? Kristen? “Are you still there?”

  “Yes. I can call later if you want—since you’ve got company.”

  “She’s not exactly company, Gena. She spends a lot of time here.”

  “Right.” He heard her take a deep breath, then she continued in a brisk voice. “Mia’s piano recital is Saturday night and she wanted me to call and invite you.”

  “Saturday night? I’m up there anyway and she did mention it already. Of course I’ll go.”

  “She wants us to go…together.”

  “Oh.” He closed his eyes and imagined the three of them, dressed up—he and Gena sitting side by side. He wanted it so bad he could taste it, but it really didn’t seem like a good idea. “Is this another of her games?”

  “No. I think she’s gotten the message as far as that’s concerned.”

  Her voice was cold and he imagined he could hear her adding and so have I. And was it his imagination or had Kristen turned down the sound on the television set.

  “I can be there,” he said, all business.

  “I guess… Well, Kristen’s invited, of course,” Gena said in a tight voice.

  Travis nearly groaned aloud. That’s just what he needed—Kristen, Gena and Mia together. “I think she has some appointments that afternoon, so she probably can’t make it.”

  “That might be for the best because it’s really important to Mia that we go as…her parents,” she said. “She worked really hard on the pieces she’ll be playing and they’re pretty impressive. After Saturday we’ll probably take turns or whatever.”

  “That’s fine.”

  They finalized the details and Travis hung up the phone, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. Even when he went back in to the living room and sat down next to Kristen, he was thinking ahead to seeing Gena again.

  More than anything he wished he could go back in time and take back that kiss. Not because he didn’t want to kiss her—he still wanted to—but because he wanted to erase the hurt he had caused in her eyes. And he wanted to change that moment in the apple orchard.

  There were so many things he wanted to explain. He wanted to call her back and tell her that his reaction to the kiss had nothing to do with her. He had been horrified at himself, at his own lack of control. And he had pushed her—purposely— to the breaking point in the orchard. He wanted her to throw him out of her life because he didn’t have the strength to do it himself.

  His wedding wouldn’t take place in October as planned, but he had committed to marrying in Mexico in the spring. Kristen still wore the extravagant diamond he’d sunk into debt to buy her. He was still engaged and he had no business kissing anybody else—especially his ex-wife.

  The ex-wife who still loves me. And he was beginning to suspect that, despite all the stern lectures he’d given himself, he was falling in love with her—had probably already fallen.

  The thought scared him to the bone. If he admitted to himself he might be falling in love with Gena Taylor, his whole life was going to be turned upside down. Along with the lives of three women who were very important to him—none of whom he wanted to hurt.

  But there was no longer any way out of this situation without somebody being left behind. He knew—as much as he didn’t want to—that very soon he would have to decide who that was going to be.

  “Travis,” Kristen said in a low voice.

  He jerked himself back into the present and tried to smile at his fiancé. “What, honey?”

  “During the time you’re here with me, you need to really be here with me.”

  Guilt swept through him and he knew she had to see it, but he lied to her anyway. “Sorry, just thinking about…Mia.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. The diamond winked shards of light back at him.

  * * * * *

  It was ridiculous to take two vehicles to the recital, so Travis met them at the Inn and they all rode together in Gena’s minivan. She wasn’t thrilled about sitting next to him in such a confined area, but it couldn’t be helped. On top of that, he and Mia had cajoled her into letting him drive.

  So she sat in the passenger’s seat, her body as rigid as steel. Mia wore the requisite black skirt and white blouse, with low black pumps and a white bow in her hair, but Gena and Travis couldn’t look more like a couple if they had signs around their necks.

  His blue suit and plum tie were the perfect complements to her navy dress and amethyst jewelry. She thought back to how Mia had urged her towards that outfit and fumed. No doubt she had already seen the suit Travis had
brought up to wear and matched them purposely.

  Gena didn’t believe for a second the scene following Mia’s talk with Kristen had taught the girl a lesson. She was just being more subtle in her attempts to play matchmaker for her parents.

  It was only a fifteen minute drive to the private school where Mia’s piano instructor taught and where they would hold the recital, but it seemed like much more. Mia sat in the far back seat, wearing headphones and humming along to the music, leaving Gena and Travis in awkward silence in the front.

  “Relax,” he said after a few miles, and Gena gave him a quelling look.

  Relax? That was easy for him to say. She hadn’t been able to relax since the day he drove Kristen’s Mercedes up to her front porch.

  “I promise I won’t try to kiss you,” he said in a low voice.

  Heat suffused her face and she stared straight ahead. The thought had crossed her mine once or twice, so she couldn’t deny it. But she wasn’t about to admit it him, either. Especially with Mia in the car, humming or not.

  “Is that supposed to be funny?” she whispered.

  She felt his gaze on her for a second before he turned back to the road. “No. You just seem kind of tense, and I thought you might be worried about the possibility.”

  “There is no possibility. None.”

  She heard him suck in a breath. “Okay, then.”

  “For your information, I’m tense because I’m nervous for my…our daughter. She’s practiced very hard for tonight and she’s devastated when she makes a mistake.”

  He reached out to pat her hand. “She’ll do fine.”

  Gena froze, her gaze drawn down to the sight of his hand covering hers. The gesture suggested familiarity, even intimacy, and while her flesh drank in the warmth of his touch, her heart shied away from the pain that would follow.

  “Don’t touch me,” she hissed, and he jerked his hand away as if he’d been burned.

  She turned her head to stare out her own window, satisfied that her coldness would keep him at bay for a while. At least until she could figure out how to resist him—or if she even could.

  There were a lot of students performing, so the auditorium was almost full when they arrived. Mia would be sitting in the second row, behind the beginning students. She gave each of her parents a hug for luck.

  “You’ll do great, sweetie,” Gena whispered near her ear, careful not to mess up her daughter’s hair. It had taken them almost an hour to smooth into a twisted ponytail, and then another ten minutes to attach the bow just perfectly.

  “Thanks, Mom. I’m really nervous.”

  Travis enveloped her in his arms, apparently not caring how long it took a teenage girl to prep for an occasion like this. “Don’t let them see you sweat.”

  The instructor was beckoning for Mia to join her class, so she kissed them each again and left. Gena scowled up at Travis. “What kind of encouragement was that?”

  He shrugged and gave her a sheepish grin. “I work with athletes, remember?”

  They found two seats together toward the back. When they sat, Gena became uncomfortably aware of how Travis’s shoulders took up more than their share of space. His arm pressed against her own, forming a little center of shared heat that seemed to radiate through her entire body.

  He’s marrying another woman, she repeated over and over again in her mind, hoping eventually the thought would stick.

  Loving Travis Ryan was as hopeless and painful now as it was fifteen years ago. She was tired of shedding tears and losing sleep over him. Over the last weeks she had tried to tell herself he wasn’t worth it, didn’t deserve her love. But the more time she spent with him, the more convinced she was that he was worth it.

  Tensions had been high, of course, but the man had a teenage daughter sprung on him with no warning. He’d turned his personal and professional lives upside down in order to do what he felt was right. He was a good man who’d dealt with the upheaval and confusion the best he could.

  And he was simply the one. They’d never been lovers in the true sense of the word, but she’d loved him all the same. The whirlwind of pain and confusion that was their brief marriage may have tarnished the memory of her girlish infatuation, but seeing his likeness in Mia every day hadn’t let it die completely. But none of what she’d felt for the boy compared to what she felt for the man he’d become.

  The program started and Gena focused her attention on the little girl who was so tiny she had to be helped onto the piano bench. She played the most basic of pieces, but she played it well, and the applause at the end was enthusiastic.

  As student after student performed, Gena was able relax and enjoy the music—until about halfway through the intermediate students. The chairs were close together, and she knew Travis was a little cramped. She was still surprised when he shifted in his seat, turning his body more toward her. He lifted his arm and rested it across the back of her seat, the length of it touching her shoulders.

  She tensed, ready to give his ears a blistering they wouldn’t soon forget, but he whispered, “If you don’t let me stretch out a bit, I’ll have to get up and walk around. I don’t want to be rude.”

  She bit down on the angry words and simply ignored him. She could hear his breathing now, and she was surprised the beating of her heart didn’t drown out the piano melodies. In hopes of calming herself she tried to breathe slowly, but it wasn’t easy with his arm practically cradling her.

  “Is Mia in the next group?” he asked softly. She nodded stiffly. “Good. With all these people, it’s hot as hell in here.”

  You have no idea, she thought bitterly. When he whispered she could feel the little hot puffs of his breath on her ear, and she shivered, despite feeling downright feverish.

  Forcing herself to focus on the stage, she tried to lose herself in the performances, but it was impossible. She was too aware of Travis sitting next to her, the way his body swayed slightly with the music.

  How often had she attended these recitals alone—a single mother who sometimes invited a friend? Even with his touch inflaming her senses, she appreciated this moment of togetherness.

  This was what she wanted—a real family. Father and mother watching their daughter, silently cheering her on. She wanted Mia to have them both, and she wanted to have Travis in her life. Somebody to share the high moments and the low, to share her joy and her sorrows. Somebody to understand and hold her when Mia left for college.

  But it wasn’t going to happen, and the ache in her chest was nearly suffocating. What if I had told him? If she hadn’t let him leave that day without telling him she was pregnant, would they be sitting here now as man and wife, maybe with Mia’s brothers or sisters sitting next to them?

  Tears blurred her vision, and she forced herself to remember it didn’t matter now. It was too late, and she could never bring that moment back. Now all she could do was keep repeating her mantra—He’s marrying Kristen Sinclair.

  Finally it was Mia’s turn and Travis lifted his arm from her shoulders. Even in her anxiety for her daughter she missed its warmth, and she silently cursed herself for a fool. Then the room filled with the Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, and she forgot everything else but her daughter’s music.

  She sat upright in her seat, her hands clenched into fists. Please…please let her get through this okay, she prayed silently. She tapped her foot, silently keeping the beat as Mia moved through the movements.

  As the piece—played flawlessly—came to a close Travis slipped his hand over Gena’s and squeezed. She turned to him and her face beamed with so much joy and pride his heart ached in his chest.

  “She did it,” Gena whispered, and then smiled.

  That smile. The one that had haunted him for fifteen years.

  But this one wasn’t for him. It was for their daughter. When Mia was finished playing the Mozart piece, she would pull away from him again, and he couldn’t blame her after the way he had treated her.

  He had no right to expect Gena to
love him now. He had pushed her away—battered her emotions—because he wanted her. It was selfishness, and it didn’t matter that trying to keep her at a distance was the right thing to do.

  That didn’t make it hurt any less, for either of them. He had spent more time than he cared to confess missing the sound of her voice. He wanted her to smile at him and laugh with him. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and kiss the daylights out of her without his conscience screaming.

  Halfway through Mozart’s Sonata, Travis admitted to himself he was hopelessly in love with Gena Taylor. He tried to pass it off as the result of an evening of emotionally-charged music, but it didn’t work.

  I love Gena. He was surprised to feel a rush of relief when he finally said the words silently to himself. I’m in love with her.

  And I’ve already lost her. She couldn’t even stand his touch in the car on the way over and her voice had been downright venomous.

  If only he had recognized his feelings earlier—before he took her love and threw it back in her face—he’d have a better chance at convincing her it was safe for her to continue loving him. But convince her he would—very soon.

  First he had a trip to Boston to make. As soon as they got back to the Riverside Inn he would get in his truck and drive to Kristen’s. He didn’t want to hurt her. His love for Kristen had been real, and he already regretted the pain this would cause her. But she wasn’t stupid, and somehow he thought she knew it was coming.

  He couldn’t marry her now. Because he did care for her, he had too much respect for her to say vows he didn’t mean. And once that was over, and he had figured out what to do with his practice, he could come back and begin the slow process of earning Gena’s love.

  He held her hand through Mozart’s Sonata, then reluctantly let her go so they could join in the applause for their daughter. And I will earn it, he promised himself as he looked down at her flushed, joyful face.

  * * * * *

  Gena sighed and crossed her arms. “You guys have been arguing about this for ten minutes. Pick something, already.”