by Olivia Miles
It seemed impossible. Downright cruel. But it would be crueler of her to tease him, to mess with his feelings, to not consider his heart.
He loved her.
She pulled in a sharp breath. She couldn’t think about this now. The bus was approaching the Winter Lake station. The entire point of coming here was to take a break from thinking about her problems, and Aaron (of all people!) was now one of them.
Well, and of course she’d come to be here for Tess. Tess had taken care of her nearly her entire life. But Tess didn’t see her as a sister, not like she saw Carrie. And Jules was determined to change that. She wanted to be friends, not a responsibility. She wanted to be close, not a burden. But lately, Tess had been determined to shut her out.
She stood up as the bus slowed, and grabbed her duffel bag and tote. She traveled light. She didn’t require many beauty products and she didn’t see a reason to impress with clothes, especially here in Winter Lake of all places, where sweaters and jeans and solid cold weather gear would do. Besides, anything she’d forgotten she could borrow from one of her sisters. Tess would share, even though growing up it had mostly been Tess and Carrie who swapped clothes or makeup, who sat behind the closed door of the bedroom they shared, discussing things that they said Jules wouldn’t understand.
Well, it was different now, or at least, it should be. She was an adult, one of the gang, just like them. Something they’d have to accept eventually.
Tess was waiting outside her car when Jules walked out of the station. Snowflakes swirled in the air and she was reminded of all the times she would stick her head back, let one drop onto her tongue. She was tempted to do it again, here and now, but she suspected that would only be met with a frown of deep disapproval from Tess, who seemed to think of Jules as an eternal child.
Tess was thinner than the last time she’d seen her, Jules noted with concern. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and her face looked lined and tired. Tess had always been the prettiest of the three sisters, in Jules’s opinion. She had fine, classic features, unlike Jules’s upturned nose and dusting of freckles. Jules knew she looked more like their father. It was the only connection she had to him. But Tess, Tess looked the most like their mother, always had. That hadn’t changed. But the sparkle of her smile and the light in her eyes had dimmed.
Jules felt her heart pull. Reminded herself that it was her turn to step up now. She’d rise to the occasion. Tess needed her for once. And terrible circumstances aside, that felt good. She’d perk her sister up, suggest some fun activities, and by the end of the trip, Tess would not only be back to her old self, but she would also see Jules in a whole new light. Last winter, Jules had pulled her weight by tending to Phoebe on her visit, but even then, Tess hadn’t fallen apart. She’d been pragmatic, worried about storing the casseroles that were dropped off on the hour, it seemed. She’d been focused on what needed to be done. What was within her control. Like always.
“Tess!” Jules gave her an understanding smile and leaned forward to hug her, but Tess’s embrace was chilly.
“So you weren’t going to tell me that you were springing Carrie on me alone?”
Uh-oh. Jules stared into her sister’s eyes, trying to read them. But instead of the annoyance she was used to, she saw weariness.
“It’s time that you and Carrie worked out your problems,” she said firmly. “Besides, I missed the bus.” Was that really so difficult to believe? The roads in Boston were a mess. It wasn’t like she lived next door to the station.
Tess gave her a long, suffering look, one that Jules knew all too well, one that was given when Jules broke their mother’s favorite vase when she was practicing cartwheels in the living room, when she came home from school talking too loudly when their mother had another one of her headaches and was in bed, the curtains pulled, even though it was only three o’clock and it was a warm, sunny spring day.
“What? You try getting a cab in Boston in a snowstorm!” Jules jutted her chin, determined not to nurse Tess the way Carrie may be inclined to, because as much as Tess was the mother hen, Carrie was the one who clucked about, fussing over everyone and offering smiles and wanting everyone to just be happy. Especially Lucas. Jules narrowed her eyes at the memory of a time she’d visited Manhattan for a long weekend, when she was, once again, between contracts. She had seen Carrie actually pour the milk in Lucas’s coffee for him as if he were a child in her classroom! No, what Tess needed was a good hard shaking. Some tough love.
And maybe some blush to make up for the lack of color in her cheeks.
Tess opened the trunk of her car and Jules dropped her bags into it. It was only then that she noticed that Phoebe and Carrie were in the backseat. She hadn’t seen her niece in ten months, and Carrie in even longer than that, and even though they talked on the phone every few weeks, it wasn’t the same.
She flung open the door and Carrie stepped out, looking so relieved at the sight of her that Jules could only wonder what had transpired in the hours since her sister had arrived.
Phoebe was next, shivering in the cold and excitedly telling Jules all about the tooth she had lost last week, proudly pointing to the gap in her mouth.
“That calls for a celebration!” Jules said, grinning at the little girl. She was happy to see her in such good spirits, all things considered.
Tess started to shake her head in protest, but Jules decided to pretend she hadn’t seen it. “Let’s head into town. Dinner’s on me. You pick the place, Phoebe.”
She didn’t meet Tess’s eye as they all climbed back into the car. Sitting through a dinner with both of her sisters may be more difficult than she’d feared, but it was probably better than each of them disappearing into their own corner of the house.
What Carrie and Tess needed was to confront their feelings once and for all.
And given that Jules was yet to see Tess shed a tear since Andrew’s death, she suspected that Tess needed it the most.
Phoebe picked Preston’s. An excellent choice, and easily Jules’s favorite spot in town. It had been around since before they were kids, changing ownership only when Jeff Preston took over the business from his father and revamped the menu, making it the heart of the town since around the time Jules was a teenager and went there with her friends for burgers and wood-fired pizzas with the money she earned from her part-time job at the newspaper, working as a fact checker.
“I’m going to get the mac and cheese and a kiddie cocktail,” Phoebe said. “They have the best kiddie cocktails, Auntie Jules.”
Jules blinked out the window of the car. What exactly had Tess been telling her? That Jules was just one of the kids?
“It sounds like you come here often,” she said, deciding not to feed into that last comment. She was being overly sensitive; something that happened every time she got around Tess. She couldn’t help it. Tess was bossy with her. Always had been. She knew it was because Tess cared, because she felt it was her role and all that, but lately, it had gotten old.
“It’s our favorite place,” Phoebe said. “It’s our only place, really.”
Tess gave a tight smile. “Jeff owns it.”
Of course. Jeff had been Andrew’s best friend. He’d been with him that awful night. He’d been the one to call Jules—Tess wasn’t able to say it out loud. And Jules had been the one to call Carrie. And then. Well.
They drove in silence, and Jules glanced over at her sister, wondering if she would turn on the radio at least, and hoping that she would. Normally Tess was the hostess, asking questions, putting everyone at ease. Now she seemed oblivious to the tension in the air. Didn’t see the need to cut it.
But Jules did. She flicked on the radio without asking for permission. Slanted a glance at Tess to see the purse of her lips.
She scanned through the channels until she found a station playing Christmas carols, but Tess’s finger jabbed at the button, turning the music off.
“I need to concentrate on driving,” she said tersely.
In the backseat, Carrie was quiet. Jules said nothing for the rest of the ride. She was starting to worry that it might be a little more difficult to get through to Tess than she had hoped.
Fortunately, Preston’s was not far from the station, and within a few minutes, they were parked one block away, beside a lamppost wrapped with garland and twinkling lights. It was beautiful, like something out of the storybooks that Jules used to read in her room, where she spent a fair amount of time alone, sometimes by choice, sometimes because she had no other choice.
“Here we all are!” Jules said cheerfully, linking her arms through both of her sisters. Phoebe giggled, wanting in on the fun, and held onto her mother’s other side as they walked toward the big wooden doors of the restaurant. “Together again. See? It’s all going to be okay.”
She flicked a warning glance first to Carrie and then to Tess as she dropped their arms and reached for the door. Carrie looked downright miserable and Tess, well, Tess had always been difficult to read. She was stoic, as far back as when they were kids, when their mother hadn’t gotten out of bed all day and there was no dinner and Carrie was crying and Jules was scared. Tess would sit silently on the armchair, her brow knitted pensively, and then, she would stand, walk to the kitchen, and pull out bread or cheese, or whatever she could find.
When their mother died, Tess handled all the arrangements in a brisk, efficient manner. She was stoic at Andrew’s funeral too, standing in her black coat and hat, holding Phoebe’s hand. Her eyes covered by dark sunglasses. Afterward, Jules had tried to get her to open up, to say how she felt, to let it out. But Tess had just looked at her sharply and said, “I’m a mother. I can’t fall apart. I won’t do that to my child.”
And Jules had said nothing more. Because she understood best of all.
Only now, she understood even more. Tess had always been the caregiver. But she needed someone to take care of her, too, even if she resisted at first. Jules just had to keep trying.
Inside the restaurant, the music was loud and the lights were festive. Jeff waved to Tess from behind the bar and then, when his eyes drifted to Jules and Carrie, he froze for a moment before waving again. Jules had always liked Jeff, not that she knew him well. He was the same age as Tess and Andrew, landing him squarely in the “big brother” category and not the “romantic suitor” category, but now, looking at his solid frame and warm grin, she was starting to see the appeal and understand why he’d always had a reputation for being a bit of a flirt.
All rugged good looks and strong forearms aside, though, Jeff was a good man. Jules had seen the way he’d handled Andrew’s service, watching Tess carefully, keeping things light for Phoebe’s sake, handling most of the arrangements and doing most of the talking when Tess couldn’t find her voice.
Andrew would have been grateful.
And of Tess, she thought, looking down at the grinning Phoebe, he would have been proud.
She pushed back the lump that formed in her throat every time she thought of Andrew and widened her smile as Jeff approached, in a navy sweater that brought out the deep blue of his eyes.
“Tess told me you were coming back,” he said, leaning in to give her a bear hug. Jules allowed herself to fall into it, to even enjoy it, but even though Jeff was strong and solid, there wasn’t the same comfort in hugging him as there was in hugging Aaron.
Her heart pulled a little as she stepped back. She missed Aaron already. She couldn’t imagine her life without him in it. Didn’t want to live that life. How could he do this to her?
“Carrie. It’s nice to see you again.”
Jules couldn’t help but observe that Jeff, while still polite, was considerably less welcoming to Carrie. If Carrie caught on, Jules couldn’t be sure. Carrie seemed to be in her own world tonight. Quiet. Pensive.
She’d get the dirty truth out of her before she turned down the duvet tonight.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Phoebe announced.
“I’ll take her!” Jules volunteered, and Tess darted her eyes at Carrie.
“I don’t mind,” Carrie blurted, taking Phoebe’s hand. She made no show of releasing it, and Jules knew how to take a hint.
“We’ll both go,” Jules said, smiling at Tess, whose shoulders seemed to sink in relief. Happy to get rid of them, was she? Jules supposed that they hadn’t exactly been invited.
Tess turned back to Jeff, smiling the first genuine smile that Jules had seen since…well, since Andrew was still alive, she thought. Jules and Carrie both followed Phoebe to the back of the restaurant, weaving between tables, trying not to bump into a waiter carrying a row of plates up his arm.
“How’s it going?” Jules whispered, once Phoebe had pushed into the bathroom, leaving Carrie and Jules to wait outside the door.
Carrie rolled her eyes. “I wish you had told me you had missed the bus sooner—”
Oh, this again!
“I couldn’t get a cab!” Jules cried, but Carrie just gave her a long look. “And yes, I’ll admit that I was hoping you and Tess might make some progress before I showed up.”
Carrie sighed heavily. “I probably shouldn’t have come. It would have been better to stay home alone—”
Jules frowned. “Alone? What about Lucas?”
Carrie blinked. “Right. I mean. Well, I meant stay home. Instead of come here.” Her cheeks flamed and Jules studied her carefully. It wasn’t like Carrie to leave Lucas’s side. Usually she was attached to his hip, and when she wasn’t, she was waiting for his next move. Her entire world revolved around Lucas. The last time Jules had been in New York, she was horrified to see that Carrie let Lucas order their food, and she didn’t even protest when he ordered an appetizer that included mushrooms, and Carrie had always hated mushrooms. She didn’t even like the smell of them.
“Well, I for one think it’s a good thing we came. Tess doesn’t look well.” She lowered her voice to be sure that Phoebe wouldn’t overhear.
“No, she doesn’t,” Carrie agreed. “But I’m not sure that my presence is what she needs right now.” Her shoulders slumped as she leaned back against the wall. It was the saddest that Jules had seen her middle sister since their mother’s funeral. And they’d all been sad then. All suffered the loss together, shell-shocked by its suddenness, relieved that their mother had not felt any pain, but Jules suspected that they were all thinking the same thing. Their mother had been in pain. A lot of it. For far too long.
“You’re her sister,” Jules said firmly. “You’re exactly what she needs.” Whether Tess was willing to admit it or not.
“All finished!” Phoebe said, bounding out of the door.
Carrie gave Jules a look that showed how impossible it was for her to match their niece’s enthusiasm, and they walked back into the dining room, where Tess was now seated at a table, laughing up at Jeff, who hovered at its edge.
Jules narrowed her eyes, noticing the way that Jeff’s gaze seemed to linger on her sister, the way the tension in Tess’s face had relaxed, and that a grin had replaced the pinched look she’d worn all the way from the station.
They both fell quiet when Jules and Carrie reached the table and Phoebe started inquiring about the status of her kiddie cocktail, which Jules gathered was something cherry-flavored and not something that the old Tess would have easily approved of.
But the old Tess was gone, Jules was beginning to think, glancing from Jeff to her sister and down to her menu. And she wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that.
She waited until their orders were placed and their drinks had arrived to do what she had come here to do. Phoebe was busy coloring the back of the menu, and Carrie, ever one to dodge the tough stuff, was engrossed with her.
“I’m so glad we’re here,” Jules smiled broadly as she looked around the room and planted her gaze on Tess. She hoped her smile made up for the fact that she had sort of sprung this on Tess, especially the part about Carrie.
“You were able to take time off work then?”
My, Tess sure didn’t waste any time, did she?
Jules pulled in a breath and took a long sip of her wine, crafting her response. “I just wrapped up a gig.”
She couldn’t help but notice the look that passed between Tess and Carrie, who was quick to look back down at the table before she’d been caught. Even now, when they were more enemies than sisters, they were a united force. And she…well, she was the odd man out.
She sniffed, lifting her chin. “No one has anything going Christmas week.”
Tess frowned a little at this. Finally she said, “True. I’ve been waiting to hear back on a job, actually. Maybe I should be more patient.”
Well, this was a surprise! And, secretly, a wonderful shift away from her own troubles.
“That’s great, Tess!” Carrie offered with a smile.
Tess pursed her lips and flicked her eyes back to Jules. “We’ll see.”
“It’s a step in the right direction,” Jules said. “I’m sure it will be good for you to get out of the house. Get your mind off things. Stay busy.” Tess loved to be busy.
“Well, obviously we need an income,” Tess said, managing a tight laugh. She straightened the napkin in her lap. “But that’s all.”
Now it was Jules’s turn to frown. She didn’t buy it. She couldn’t buy it. Tess had adored Andrew. They’d dated since high school, and known each other long before that. Even Jules struggled to think of him without tearing up.
“Tess,” she said flatly. “It’s okay. It’s us. Your sisters.”
Tess blinked at her, but for one telling moment, she thought she saw Tess’s lips quiver. Just as quickly, Tess cleared her throat and said, “I appreciate it, Jules, but Phoebe and I are just fine. We’re keeping busy.”
Jules nodded. Of course.
“Almost too busy. The holidays are an overwhelming time for parents.”
Even more so for single parents, Jules wanted to say. They’d known it firsthand.