by Sara Rider
Clem hoped they were all wrong and that her mom really had undergone a personality transplant, but she wasn’t foolish enough to bank on it. Heck, she was pretty sure a big chunk of the reason her mom had been so willing to listen to the doctor was because she thought he happened to look like a young Steve McQueen. But the fact she hadn’t given Clem a single ounce of grief over the whole fiasco with Jake in the week they’d been home was nothing short of miraculous.
Right after the doctor had given her mom the all clear, she’d taken Clem’s hand and asked her what really happened. Clem couldn’t lie to her anymore. She’d spilled every last detail about the break-in, the fake relationship, and how she’d ended up falling for Jake.
Her mom patted the back of her hand and told her that the only thing she really wanted for Clem was to see her go after what she wanted. And that meant going after Jake. So Clem tried. She sent him a text telling him everything was okay with her mom. A gentle prod that left the ball firmly in his court. When she arrived home, she found her Forrester in her driveway with the keys dropped through her front door mail slot. That was all the answer she got.
She dropped her head back on her new couch, fighting the urge to check her phone for a message from him when she knew it hadn’t come.
“Oh no, get the mint chocolate chip ice cream. She’s wallowing again,” Chastity said to Clover.
“I think this calls for double fudge brownie.”
Clem crossed her arms. “I’m not wallowing. But I will take the ice cream.”
“Heavy sighs, distant look, muttering Jake’s name over and over again? Yeah, you’re wallowing.” Chastity punched her lightly in the shoulder to punctuate the point.
“I haven’t said his name once.”
“Not out loud,” Clover said. “But you can’t tell us you aren’t repeating it in your head.”
“I’m not—” She groaned. “Fine. I’m thinking about him, but that doesn’t mean I’m wallowing.”
Chastity paused the movie and angled toward Clem. “Good, because a guy who declares he’s falling for you on his freaking wedding day to another woman isn’t worth your time or your energy.”
“I feel like such a fool.” Technically, it wasn’t Jake’s wedding day, but her sisters didn’t think that slight clarification mattered one bit.
“He had all of us fooled,” Chastity said with a huff. “And I’m not easily fooled. I honestly thought you two were the real deal. Heck, I could even get over the weird timing of his romantic gesture if he was here knocking down your door with flowers and chocolates, but it’s been a week.”
“I still believe him,” Clover said, popping another kernel into her mouth with a shrug.
Clem cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
“Do you remember when I was dating Phil Marsden in high school and he broke up with me right before senior prom because I told him I wouldn’t go back to a hotel and have sex with him afterward?” Clem nodded. She’d only been thirteen years old at the time. The sobbing and Celine Dion ballads that flooded their home were memorable enough, but their parents sat her and Clover down for a sex talk so awkward, it was forever burned into her brain. “Chastity and Mike made Andrew step in and take me instead. Even though I was still brokenhearted about Phil, I knew that night Andrew was the one for me. That’s why I let him pop my cherry and everything that night when I’d never even let Phil touch my boobs.”
“I really didn’t need to know that,” Clem mumbled while secretly holding back a laugh.
“Yes, you do, because I’m making an important point. When you meet the right person after being with the wrong one for so long, it’s like taking off a blindfold. Everything makes sense and you just know.”
Clem’s chest tightened. Her heart screamed that her sister was right, but her brain stormed over those feelings like a rain cloud. “If that were true, why am I sitting on my couch on a Saturday night with my two sisters instead of him?”
“You said you texted him, right?” Chastity didn’t even wait for an answer. She snatched Clem’s phone off the coffee table.
“Hey!”
Chastity ignored her and pulled up her text history. Clem didn’t even bother to ask how her sister knew her passcode. “This is what you wrote?” She held the phone up with her last text on display.
Mom’s okay. Just a panic attack.
“What was I supposed to say?”
Clover sighed. “That he needs to man up and win you back? Or that you’re standing in your bedroom buck naked waiting for him to tell you what do next?”
Clem rolled her eyes.
“How about this?” Chastity typed something into the phone and passed it over.
Clem looked down at the screen and sucked in a shaky breath.
I miss you.
“All you have to do is hit send,” Chastity added gently.
Her sister made it sound so easy. But could Clem really put herself on the line again? Jake had been clear from the beginning that he didn’t do long term. It was easy to tell herself that one week wasn’t long enough to fall for another person, but then how did she explain how quickly she’d been willing to hand her heart over to him? How desperately she ached to see him again?
The malt mill was running smoothly but Jake wasn’t convinced it was running perfectly smoothly. The bearings had been tuned and greased over the past month, but there was always the chance they needed a full replacement, not just a repair. At least, that’s how he explained the fact he’d had his ear pressed against the cool metal for the last three minutes, listening to the vibrations for any inconsistencies. It had nothing to do with the fact he would have stuck his head into the damn thing just to drown out the memories of Clem that kept haunting him.
“I’m not really sure what you’re up to, but I’m going to write down the number for a good therapist and just leave it on your desk.” Eli stood over him, covered in grease and bits of mash.
“The mill was making a funny noise.”
Eli’s dark brows pinched together. “What kind of noise? Like a unh-unh-wee, a wee-unh-wee, or a unh-wee-guuhhk? Cause if it’s the last one, we’re totally fucked.”
“Wee-unh-wee.”
Eli crossed the floor and banged his hand against the side of the machine. The slight catch was instantly replaced with a soft purr. “Better?”
“Yep.”
“Good. Now stop doubting me and get out of my brewery. Your space is out front, convincing the fine ladies and gentlemen of this establishment to part ways with their hard-earned cash so that we can pay our bills.”
“I—”
Eli shushed him then pointed to the hallway leading to Jake’s office. “Your space.” He pointed to the equipment. “My space. Unless you want to stay and talk about your feelings.”
Jake stood up and wiped his hands against his jeans. “All right, I’m going.”
Julia burst into the room before he managed to take a step. “Great news! No, scratch that. Phenomenal news! We’ve been featured in Taste of Washington. Apparently there was someone at the wedding who works for the magazine who loved our space. She rated our Matrimoni-Ale as one of the top five craft brews in the state. And she love the food, the décor, pretty much everything about the Holy Grale.”
“That’s great,” he said, trying to muster a convincing amount of enthusiasm. It was the kind of thing that should make him ecstatic, but every emotion had been numbed since he’d gotten back from Beecham Lake.
“Not great. Phenomenal,” Julia corrected. “We’ve also gotten an explosion of bookings in the last few days. I’ve even had to turn some down. Don’t you get it? We’re not just competing with other venues. We’re in demand.”
His attempt at a smile must have failed because Julia’s expression soured. She turned to Eli. “He’s still moping?”
“Yep.”
“I’m fine,” Jake growled, annoyed by the knowing look that passed between the pair. “I’m just making sure everything’s running smoothly.”
“Like it did last week when Julia and I handled things while you were on a vacation. Relaxing. Letting go of stress. All those things people are supposed to do on a vacation. Remember?”
Julia set her clipboard down on the old wooden table covered with barley samples and crossed her arms. “Eli’s right. You’re wound up tighter than before you left.”
“I don’t like roller coasters, man. Real or emotional,” Eli interrupted before Jake could defend himself. “What gives? I thought you left all your emo shit behind after you and Kelly broke up. Right now you’re acting like one of the sad, orphaned puppies in those animal adoption commercials that always make Julia cry.”
“We’re focusing on Jake’s emotions, not mine,” Julia said pointedly.
“We shouldn’t be talking about any of this at all,” Jake grumbled.
“You’re right,” Eli said with unusual solemnity. “Talking isn’t going to solve your problems. You need to do something. I don’t know if your attitude is about Kelly getting married, or about the fact Clem hasn’t shown her face here since you got back, but you need to deal with it.”
A streak of anger shot through his chest, but it fizzled just as quickly. Eli was right. He’d been putting off dealing with too much shit for too long. “Okay.”
Eli looked at Julia with suspicion. “Did he just agree?”
“I think it’s a trick.”
“Or a trap.”
“Or a sign of the apocalypse.”
“Enough. I said okay, and I meant it,” Jake huffed.
The pair nodded and left him alone in the large, dark space. The heaviness that had been weighing on him for the last week seemed to drag down every step as he made his way back to his own office. He’d been spending most of his time in the brewery lately, drawn in by the loud whirring and buzzing sounds. It was the only thing that could get the sound of Clem’s voice out of his head. She’d ridden with her parents to the hospital, leaving him to drive her car back alone. He’d listened to her recording the entire way, completely mesmerized by the story. He’d had to fill up the gas tank an extra two times just to finish it before finally parking at her place and walking to the Holy Grale to catch a ride back with Eli.
The couple in the book she was narrating should never have gotten together. Never should have made it work, and for a while, he didn’t think they would. But even with the odds against them, they’d fought to be together. The parallels between him and Clem were too fucking close to think about. But unlike the couple in the story, Clem had rejected him. The lies they’d told had unraveled in the worst possible way, exploding any chance they had to make things work.
But maybe he just hadn’t tried hard enough.
He settled into his chair and forced himself to pull out his phone and read the text message he’d read a million times already.
Mom’s okay. Just a panic attack.
He’d had six days to come up with a response. Six days to figure out if she even wanted him to respond. She’d been so guarded with her emotions, not giving him any sign she wanted more until he’d laid everything on the line that last morning, and even then she’d ultimately rejected him.
He wanted to believe she’d been lying. To herself. To him. That she did believe the connection between them was too real to throw away once the week was over. But he couldn’t be the one to push her now. He couldn’t be selfish with her. Pushing her too hard, too quickly, is what got them in this mess. Even though he was grateful Darlene was okay, not a single ounce of his guilt had lifted in the time since. He needed to do the right thing this time.
Only, the right thing had never felt so wrong.
He opened the phone and typed a message.
How are you?
He hit send before he could second-guess himself. His phone dinged with a message within a second. He straightened in his seat and stared at his phone like the damn thing was on fire.
I miss you.
The message was from Clem. Either they’d texted each other at the same time or she’d been waiting in anticipation for him to get in touch.
He typed back the only thing he could: Miss you, too.
His phone dinged again. I’m good. U?
A small chuckle erupted in his chest. They were definitely cross-texting. He paused for a moment, waiting for her to text again. A full minute passed with nothing, the little ellipses absent from the bottom of his screen.
OK. You coming back to the Grale anytime soon?
Another painfully long, silent minute before the answer came.
Maybe.
Another message popped up before he had the chance to respond.
Did the fact it was your wedding day have anything to do with what you said to me on the island?
Reading those words felt like a punch to the gut. He leaned back in his chair and ran his hand along his scruff. The temptation to lie was strong, but he couldn’t. Not if he wanted her back. He needed to be truthful, no matter how much it hurt. He typed five letters and hit send.
Maybe.
He waited ten minutes. Nothing. She was leaving the ball in his court and for once he knew what he needed to do.
23
Jake tucked the carefully wrapped parcel under his arm as he stepped onto the slate-tiled stoop and rang the doorbell. He’d never gotten anything professionally gift-wrapped before but he figured this was the one time it would be worthwhile.
The door opened a crack, just enough to see the confused look on Kelly’s face. “Jake? What are you doing here?”
“I came by to give you this.” He held up the box.
Another figure appeared behind the door. “Everything okay?”
The last time Jake saw Gary, the man was bare-ass naked on top of his fiancée. Jake had just turned around and walked out that morning without a word, but Gary still looked like he was bracing for a blow to the face.
“Just here to talk. Nothing else.”
“It’s early,” Kelly said pointedly.
“Not planning to stay long.”
Kelly swung the door open with a frown and let him in. She might hate his guts, but she’d never been able to resist a shiny-wrapped box.
She led him to the stark white formal living room and sat down in the one of the armchairs, dismissing Gary with a look. Not a harsh one, though—more like a soft smile that let him know she was okay. There was a silent communication between the two that he’d never had with her in all the years they were together.
He sat down across from her on the edge of one of the chairs. He’d never been comfortable in this room. It was cold and harsh, and he always worried he would stain it with the residual filth of the pub that clung to his clothes.
She sliced the tape with her long, pink fingernail, not meeting his eyes. “I thought you might be here because of the wedding announcement mistake. The wedding planner released the one she’d made up for us last year instead of the right one. I hope it didn’t cause you any problems.”
“It did. But I’m not here to complain.”
The briefest flicker of emotion passed over her face—regret? Pity? It was gone before he could discern it. She dropped her gaze back to the gift, severed the last piece of tape and pulled the wrapping off the box. “Then why are you here?”
“To apologize. And see for myself that you’re happy.”
She studied him for a moment. “I am.”
“Good.”
She peeled back the wrapper and held the clear plastic box up for inspection. “Johann Drust handcrafted napkin rings? I’ve wanted these forever. They’re beautiful.”
“They’re hideous, but I should have got them for you a long time ago regardless.”
She set the box in her lap with a sad smile. “I never should have thrown a tantrum to get them in the first place when you hated them.”
He leaned forward and rubbed his palms against his jeans. “Probably not, but neither of us was ever very good at compromise.”
She shook her head, still admirin
g the bizarrely shaped circles of wood and beads like they were a newborn baby. “Maybe not, but there was no way for us to compromise with each other and be happy. There was never a middle ground for us. We were too different. Too toxic for each other. But I am happy now with Gary. Truly. I finally understand what it means to love and care about someone the way it’s meant to be. He treats me so well.”
“The way I never did.”
“The way you never could because we weren’t right for each other. It took me a long time to accept that. Hell, I blamed you for everything right up to the wedding. But once I was standing in front of the officiant beneath that beautiful vine arch with Gary, saying the vows I’d had picked out since I was a child, I realized that I didn’t need to be angry anymore. I have everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s just that I spent so long thinking I was supposed to find that with you, I forgot about what really matters.” She sighed. “I guess what I’m saying is that even though I blamed you for what happened between us, it isn’t your fault. Not entirely. I’m just as responsible. But if I can forgive you, maybe you can forgive me, too?”
“Yeah, I do.” The weight Jake had been carrying for so long eased from his shoulders. “And I’m happy for you. Really.”
He stood up and escorted himself to the door.
“Jake?” She called just before he stepped outside. “I hope Clementine makes you happy, too.”
He gripped the edge of the door so hard, the pressure radiated down to his elbow. “She does, but I’m not sure it’s going to work out.”
“It has to.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I saw the way you looked at her. It’s the way I always wished you would look at me. You deserve to be happy, Jake.”
“Goodbye, Kelly.” He nodded to Gary who waited in the hall and shut the door softly. If the one woman who’d hated him more than anyone could forgive him, maybe he could figure out how to forgive himself.
A bell dinged overhead as Jake pushed open the glass door to the little shop nestled in a generic strip mall. He rarely came to this side of the town—a mish-mash of single-family homes and small businesses that had yet to be gentrified. But with the increasingly younger population in Shadow Creek, it was only a matter of time before it was overtaken by vintage record shops and cafés that served meals in mason jars alongside artisanal coffees.