by Olivia Miles
“But now?”
Anna grew quiet. “Now I almost think there’s a second chance for us.”
Jane blinked. She had grown so accustomed to thinking of her middle sister as a career woman only, an independent force in the world, that the thought of her suddenly being involved with a man—Mark!—gave her pause.
“Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself,” Anna muttered. “We all know how he is.”
Yes, unfortunately, they did. Jane had seen Mark bounce from one woman to the next for years, seemingly only interested in each for a matter of weeks before his attention turned to the next. “I take it Nicole Johnson is out of the picture?”
Anna gave her a disapproving frown. “See, that’s what I mean.” She shook her head. “Forget it. I’m getting ahead of myself. I know how he is.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Jane sighed. “If you’re telling me now, after all this time—after years of keeping this to yourself—that you think there’s something between you and Mark then there probably is. You’re a smart girl; you wouldn’t waste your heart on the wrong man.” Unlike me, she added quietly to herself. She understood all too well how it felt to want to trust in a man you knew deep down you shouldn’t. Even when she knew that Adam was cheating on her, even when she’d witnessed him kissing another woman, she’d still held out hope that he could change, that it would never happen again, that he’d made a one-time mistake.
“I feel like this time, it will be different,” Anna said. “I don’t think he’d start something if he knew he was just going to hurt me again.”
“Mark’s a good guy, Anna,” Jane added, reminding herself to stop comparing every man to Adam. “We all like him. We always have. I suppose that’s why we’ve never understood your coldness to him.”
“Well, now you know.”
“Yes.” Jane still marveled at the thought of it. Mark and Anna. Right under their noses! “I suppose Grace has no idea?”
Anna gave her a conspiratorial grin. “I told her yesterday. It came up and… it was time. I told her about the loan, too.”
“Good.” Jane felt her stomach uncoil with relief. She elbowed her sister. “It feels good to let people in, doesn’t it?”
“It does, and I have you to thank for a lot of that.”
“Me?”
“That morning in the bookstore when you told Rosemary you wanted her to set you up again, I thought you were just a glutton for punishment, but then I started to realize that maybe that was the reason you were blessed with so much. A child. A husband, even if only for a while. Even now, with your marriage over, your heart is still open.”
Jane considered the words. She checked her watch, her pulse flickering at the time. She could have stayed and chatted with her sister all evening but she had somewhere else to be.
She said goodbye and walked to the car, calculating she had all of twenty minutes to dress. By the time she pulled into her driveway, she’d planned her outfit, deciding to shed her mom jeans for a cute pink pencil skirt she hadn’t worn in years and a simple white T-shirt.
The problem was, the skirt was a little smaller than she remembered.
Jane held it up to her waist and regarded herself in the mirror with a frown. She didn’t have time to sort through her clothes for something else, and she’d already returned that lace top to Grace, swearing her dating days were over.
A sundress seemed too casual, and her other skirts seemed too wintery.
Wait a minute… Jane crossed to her dresser, smiling in satisfaction when she pulled the flesh-colored shapewear from the top drawer. She’d bought this shortly after Sophie was born, when she was still trying to cling to her old life, her old clothes. Her old self.
Nearly five years later, she was right back there.
She slid one leg in and then the other, yanking and pulling and happy her daughter or heaven forbid her sisters weren’t around to witness this struggle. Finally, she resorted to sliding her hand down the waist pant, shoving everything into place.
There. She smiled on a sigh, until panic quickened her pulse. It was so far out of her routine, she hadn’t even considered…
Where just a matter of seconds ago her nails had been petal pink, evenly painted and glossed with just the right amount of sheen, they were now wrinkled and squished, like a contracted accordion.
“No, no, no!” she wailed, and ran to the bathroom to inspect the damage under better light. It was useless.
Blinking back tears of frustration, and forcing herself not to just call and cancel the whole damn thing, Jane found a cotton ball and soaked it with the nail polish remover, rubbing it deftly over each fingernail until the last trace of her earlier effort was gone.
She swept on some lipstick, ran a brush through her hair, and hurried out the door. So she was wearing a skirt that might not be at the height of fashion, and so her handbag contained a travel pack of tissues and a few princess bandages. She’d put her best foot forward tonight, but she’d do it by being herself. If there was another chance at love for her, then the next man in her life would have to love her just as she was.
Twenty minutes later, she marched straight up to the hostess stand in Piccolino’s and inquired about the reservation instead of shifting her eyes this way or that, wondering if one of the few men in the waiting area was her date.
A finger tapped her on the shoulder, and she whipped around, coming face-to-face with a perfectly pleasant-looking man with wire-framed glasses and kind green eyes.
“Jane? I’m Brian.” He smiled at her, and held out a hand, giving it a firm shake, as his head tipped with interest. He motioned to the dining room, where the hostess was waiting, two menus clutched to her chest. “Shall we?”
Jane nodded, and let him lead her into the bustling room. Perhaps Adam was here, or maybe he was at home with Kristy, curled up on the couch, laughing and talking, having the time of his life. She didn’t care.
Brian held out her chair and then came around the table, giving her a bashful grin as he dropped into his chair. Jane bit back a smile and reached for her menu, but her hand froze as she looked across the room.
There he was, with that disheveled brown hair and easy grin, smiling and laughing and looking at his date with unsurpassed intensity.
It was Mark. And the woman he was with was most definitely not her sister.
CHAPTER
29
Anna set the timer on the oven for the last batch of scones and gave a sigh of contentment. She hadn’t thought it possible, but Fireside’s kitchen had never looked better. The six-burner range was now replaced with an eight-burner, all shiny and ready to be put to use. The marble counters were so new, she could catch her reflection in them, and each station was fully stocked with stainless steel pots and pans, waiting to be filled with her favorite ingredients.
If only the dining room were ready, they’d be able to open the doors today. The contractors were scheduled to start on that next week, once the last of the cabinet doors were affixed in the kitchen. Anna was impatient for things to get under way, but at least the sense of dread was lifted. She’d land on her feet. In many ways, she already had.
“Anna?”
Startled at the sound of her youngest sister’s voice, Anna set down her oven mitt and came out of the kitchen. Jane stood in the cleared-out dining room, almost hesitant to come farther into the space.
Anna couldn’t resist letting her gaze linger on the singed wall that had once separated Fireside from the stationery shop. Soon, her café would be up and running again and a new tenant would move in next door. Maybe someday she’d have the chance to expand. For now, this would have to be enough.
“The rubble has been cleared out and you’re safe without a hard hat,” Anna joked. She waved her sister into the kitchen. “I’m just finishing with the last of this morning’s batch. Did Grace send you over to pick them up?”
“Not exactly.” Jane frowned and hitched her handbag higher on her shoulder before almost reluctantly
following Anna into the kitchen. Her slumped posture lifted along with her expression when she saw the kitchen. “Oh, Anna! It looks beautiful! You’d never even know it had been damaged.”
“I know!” Anna beamed. It was a sunny day, and warm, natural light filtered in through the windows. The back wall had been destroyed in the fire, and when they’d reconstructed it, Sharon had made a point of adding this touch; Anna had plans to grow her own herbs on the sill. “Sharon really did a great job with the renovation. Even though this place holds such bad memories for Mark, his mother really cherishes it.”
“Hmm.” Jane walked over to the sink and then glanced out the window, seeming distracted.
Anna fell silent and transferred the oatmeal cranberry cookies to a box. “So… anything new?”
Jane turned around, giving a shy smile. “I had my date last night.”
“Oh my goodness, that’s right!” No wonder Jane seemed far away. Anna pushed the pastry box to the side. “How was it?”
Jane bit the corner of her lip thoughtfully. “He was… a really nice guy.”
Anna regarded her quizzically. “You don’t seem all that excited about it.”
Jane shrugged. “He seemed like more a friend type. I don’t think I’m ready to date right now, not seriously at least. When Adam moved out right before Christmas, and then moved in with Kristy, I just felt like I needed to get back out there right away, move on to the next phase of my life.”
It was the opposite of what Anna had done when Mark had broken up with her, but she understood. “Sometimes the best way to avoid the hurt is to bury yourself in something new.” Like Fireside.
“I don’t think I’ve really been dealing with the implications of this divorce,” Jane said. “I’ve tried to run from it instead. My husband cheated on me and then he left me. I need to process that, and more than anything, I need to learn who I am again. Without him.”
Anna nodded. “You were only nineteen when you married him. Now you’re coming up on twenty-six. That’s a big age difference.” A lot could happen in that amount of time. “So this guy, Brian? You think you’ll go out with him again?”
“Probably not,” Jane sighed. “He was a nice guy, though, and… it’s nice to be reminded that good guys are out there.”
“It is,” Anna agreed, but her grin fell when she caught the tightness in Jane’s expression.
“I didn’t actually come by here to talk about my date,” Jane said slowly. “I came here to tell you about something I saw last night. I… wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but I know if the situation were reversed, I’d want to know.”
A wash of ice fell over Anna’s stomach. “What is it?”
Jane gave a reluctant sigh. “It’s Mark. He was at the restaurant. With another woman.”
He’d told her he had work to do. “Nicole Johnson?”
Jane shook her head. “Someone else. I’ve never seen her before.”
“What did she look like?” Anna inquired, trying to will herself to stay calm, to not jump to any conclusions. He’d sounded so honest on the phone…
“Dark hair, almost black. Pale skin.”
She gritted her teeth. “Tall, pretty, blue eyes?”
Jane gave an apologetic smile. “I didn’t see her eyes,” she offered weakly.
Cassie. Anna gripped the counter, trying to steady herself from the emotions that tore through her body, leaving her shaky. Her mind whirred with possibilities, replaying the past few days with Mark. She’d told him everything—how much she’d cared about him, how deeply he’d hurt her. The horror of seeing him with Cassie that day. And he’d taken her to bed after promising her that woman had never meant anything, that the little flirtation she’d witnessed at the cocktail party had been nothing but two former classmates making pleasantries. He’d kissed her, long and deep, explored every inch of her body with his mouth, told her everything she needed to hear, and taken away years worth of pain and regret and fear with his touch.
“I just can’t believe it,” she murmured.
“Do you know this woman?” Jane set a hand on Anna’s shoulder, her face lined with concern.
Anna nodded, swallowing hard, trying to process what this meant. There was only one conclusion: “He hasn’t changed.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Jane burst out, but Anna shook her head firmly.
“You’re my sister. You were looking out for me. If you don’t, who will?” Not Mark. Certainly not Mark.
“I’m so sorry, Anna,” Jane said softly.
“That makes two of us,” Anna replied. She wiped away a tear before it could fall, gritting her teeth against the pain. She’d shed enough tears for that man. Those emotions had cost her enough already.
“I can stay if you’d like,” Jane offered. “Why don’t I call to have a friend pick Sophie up from preschool?”
Anna shook her head, hating the concern in Jane’s voice as much as she appreciated it. This wasn’t like her—not anymore. She straightened her back and sniffed. “I’m fine. Really,” she added, sensing the hesitation in Jane’s eyes.
“Well…” Jane picked up her handbag and tipped her head. “I can stop by in half an hour after I get Sophie and take you to lunch. Sophie would like that.”
“Thank you, but… not today.” Anna smoothed her hands and began boxing the last of the scones. “Besides,” she said with false cheer. “I have a lot to do today. Account books to go over, meetings with contractors…”
Just stay busy.
Jane gave her a sad smile and reluctantly turned. Anna waited until she heard the front door close before burying her face into her hands. She allowed herself five minutes—five final minutes—and then rinsed her face in the shiny new sink, patted it dry, and slid the flour canister across the counter.
She had cookies to bake.
It was nearly nightfall by the time Anna closed the door on Fireside and turned the key. It had been a long day, but she could have worked through the night, going over the plans the contractor had emailed, restocking her pantry, and prepping for tomorrow. In some ways, it was almost depressingly easy to fall back into her quiet, lonesome routine. This was her life. This was reality.
The headache that had started shortly after Jane left still raged, and Anna knew it was time to rest. She’d pop an aspirin, maybe watch some television, and wake up tomorrow to start all over again.
She drove home in silence, the radio off, the window rolled partly down. Crickets chirped in the distance, and children played on lawns. She smiled at a little girl struggling to pedal her pink bike on her driveway, the gentle, patient way her father guided her along, purple streamers skimming his strong hands. Sometimes, during those scary, lonely two weeks after they’d parted, she imagined telling Mark about the baby, imagined what their life might have been together, the kind of father he would be. Recently, almost subconsciously, she’d watched him with Scout, seen the warmth in his eyes and the joy in his smile and dared to go back to that time and place and wonder what might have been.
Her mouth thinned and she jerked her eyes away. As much as she wished it, that never could have been them. He might have stuck by her, but it wouldn’t have been for the right reasons. He’d already strayed. Maybe he would have strayed again. Maybe she would have ended up just like Jane. In the end, it always came back to a broken heart. There was no escaping that outcome when it came to Mark.
Her mind was as heavy as her heart, tugging and pulling and taking her in directions that she shouldn’t entertain, but all thinking ceased when she pulled up in front of her apartment and saw Mark sitting on the front steps.
Damn it. They were supposed to go out tonight. The one time he had to stick to something.
“Hey,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin as she slammed her car door shut.
She strode purposefully up the brick path, glaring at him. “I’m surprised you’re here,” she said, hating the emotion that shook her voice.
He frowned in confusion. “I
’ve been waiting for twenty minutes. I figured you got busy with something.”
Anna nodded. “Just like you were busy with Cassie last night?”
The flash in his eyes confirmed everything, and Anna cursed under her breath, pushing past him. He grabbed her by the arm, just tightly enough to make her turn and face him. God, she hated looking at him, hated the impact of those eyes, the way they penetrated her, made her question her own judgment, made her want things she shouldn’t, things she could never have. Not with him.
“Jane was at the restaurant last night, Mark.” Her voice was steely. “She saw you. I know you were with Cassie.”
His brow knit. “It’s not what you think, Anna.”
“Oh, no? Enlighten me.”
He released her arm, letting out a long breath. “Cassie and I are friends. Not even friends, really. We never were.”
“No, of course not. Because you don’t sleep with your friends. Well, unless the friend is me, of course.”
A shadow fell over his face. “Don’t be like that.”
“Like what? I’m just stating the facts, Mark. I’m sorry if the truth hurts.” She looked at him hard.
Mark seemed to hesitate. “You asked me the other day what I would do with the money if I won.”
“Yeah. You didn’t have a good answer for me.”
Mark ran a hand over his jaw. “I’ve been wanting to do something different. A little more in line with what I set out to do.”
She blinked. “And what is that?”
“You know the kind of restaurant I’ve always wanted to run.”
Oh, she knew. Her heart panged when she remembered the way they’d talk for hours about their plan, even doodling designs, jotting down recipes, squabbling over stupid things like the color of the walls. “I don’t see what this has to do with Cassie,” she insisted.
“I was meeting with Cassie because she’s opening a new restaurant and she asked me to be her executive chef.”
Anna froze. “What?”
“She’s opening a new place in Cedar Valley. That’s what the meeting was about, Anna. There was nothing personal about it at all.”