Yours Since Yesterday

by Jennifer Bernard

  But when she parked her Subaru and climbed out in her curve-hugging track suit, hair in a braid down her back, deep smudges under her eyes, he forgot his entire plan.

  “Zoe. Are you okay?” He strode to her side. “You look exhausted.”

  “Thanks. Always great to hear first thing in the morning.” She propped one foot on the low railing that enclosed the parking lot. As she stretched her hamstring, she added, “You look fresh as a daisy. Those sheets at the Eagle’s Nest must be topnotch.”

  “Stop trying to change the subject. Just be straight with me, Zoe. What’s wrong with you?”

  With her torso bent over her leg, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Wrong with me? Jeez, that’s two insults in less than a minute.”

  “I’m not trying to insult you. Why won’t you talk to me?” His urgency rang in the morning air, startling a small flock of sparrows pecking at the gravel.

  “Look, Padric, I get it. I’ve been a little distant. That’s understandable, don’t you think, considering the circumstances?”

  “I get that it’s very personal. But you used to trust me.”

  “I wish I still could.” Her wistful tone made him want to tear his hair out.

  “You can! I’m here to help in whatever way I can. Money, support, whatever you need. You just have to be honest with me.”

  “Excuse me?” Looking highly offended, she switched to the other leg. “Why would I need your money? You’ve seen the Last Chance. We’re almost too busy. I’m really starting to regret the delivery option. Especially the last few days.”

  Maybe Zoe was in deep, deep denial. That would explain how casually she was treating the situation. “I’m sure the pizza shop is doing just fine, but big bills like this are different. You deserve the best, even if you can’t afford it. That’s where I come in.”

  “Wow, you are really arrogant. And really, really confusing. What big bill am I delinquent on? The house is paid off. My Subaru was a steal on Craigslist. I skipped college, so there’s that. Maybe my tab at Misty Bay Art Supplies is getting out of hand?”

  “Zoe!” He had to just come out with it. “Are you sick?”

  She pulled her foot off the railing and planted it on the ground. Crossing her arms across her chest, she demanded, “Do I look sick?”

  “Right now you look a little tired, and—”

  “I was up late getting my application together. Also, I think I’m developing a cheese allergy, which is very awkward for a pizza maker.”

  “So…you’re not ill?”

  She finally picked up on his seriousness, and her ironic smile dropped. “Not that I know of. But I haven’t seen a doctor in at least ten years, so I suppose I can’t say for sure.”

  “You haven’t been diagnosed with anything in the past couple of years?”

  She flipped her braid over her shoulder. “I feel like these are weird and inappropriate questions, like where’s my HPAA form? I didn’t waive anything.”

  He was entirely out of patience. “Can you just answer the question? For me, your old best friend Padric?”

  Slowly, shaking her head, she said, “I have not been diagnosed with anything other than a bruised elbow when I slammed it into the oven and multiple minor burns, also from the oven. All my medical issues are caused by that damn brick oven. What’s this all about, Padric?”

  He stared at her, his mind whirring. The letter from the twins. How strangely they’d been acting toward him. Zoe’s perfect health. Monica urging him to avoid Zoe. The request from the kid last night—

  The music festival.

  Holy shit. He’d been played.

  The laugh welled up from the deepest part of his soul, rose through his chest and burst out of his throat. He tilted his head back and laughed longer and louder than he had in many, many years. Maybe since the Scandal. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and ran down his face.

  Zoe stared at him with a look of complete mystification. “Is my pizza oven that funny? Those burns actually hurt. I still have scars.” She showed him the back of one hand.

  He lifted it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her skin. “You’re not sick,” he managed.

  “Nope.”

  “And I got suckered.”

  “They do say the music world is ruthless—” she began, all sympathetic.

  “By your sisters,” he interrupted.

  “Excuse me?”

  “That’s why I came back. They wrote me a letter saying that you were having a hard time with your diagnosis and that I should come support you. But you don’t have a diagnosis.”

  She shook her head, folding her lips, mirth rising in her eyes.

  “And they have a music festival they’re planning.”

  She nodded. A flush swept across her face. “Oh my God. So you…”

  “Got fooled by a couple of sixteen-year-olds. Yes.”

  And then they both burst into laughter and kept on going—endless waves of merriment rolling over them like a full moon tide.

  Just like the old days.

  It took Zoe a while to recover from the first laughing fit she’d had in years. Once she did, she wasn’t so much entertained as furious.

  “Those two are a menace to civilization.” She busied herself tucking strands of hair back into her braid. “I feel like I should go drag them out of bed and smack their asses.”

  “Really? You can do that?”

  “No. It’s two against one. And I can’t tell Mama because I don’t want her to know you’re here. Nothing personal.”

  His face shuttered, just a bit.

  “Come on, let’s jog while we figure this out. I want to know everything. Also, just so you know, when I say ‘jog,’ this is the pace I’m referring to.” She set off down the trail at something between an amble and a saunter.

  Padric easily kept pace. In fact, his biggest challenge would probably be slowing down enough to stay at her side.

  “I’m pretty sure most people would call this more of a ‘stroll,’” he teased.

  “Mock me if you want. I’m at peace with my non-athletic nature. Besides, this way we can talk about my rascally twin sisters. What exactly did they say in this letter?”

  He fumbled in the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a piece of stationery paper. “I brought it in case you denied everything.”

  She took it and turned it over. The letterhead read “Misty Bay Regional Hospital.”

  “Sweet Lord, they went all out. Isn’t this mail fraud or something?”

  He laughed. She liked the confident way his body moved with each long stride. She found it wildly sexy. “It’s just stationery, but it did add a little something to the whole effect.”

  She paused on the trail as she scanned the letter. The scent of alders and mudflats rose around her. The cheerful morning chirp of birds rustling in the alders added a soundtrack as she read the letter out loud.

  “Dear Padric Jeffers,

  “You might not remember us because we were just babies when you left Lost Harbor. Our names are Monica and Alexis Bellini, and we’re writing to you because we know that you were good friends with our older sister, Zoe. We thought you should know that Zoe is struggling with some very serious issues and could use the support of an old friend. We don’t want to reveal too much due to family confidentiality. She doesn’t know that we’re writing to you.

  “Damn right I didn’t know, or they wouldn’t have survived to put the stamp on.”

  “Keep reading,” he said, with a grim chuckle. “I’m analyzing every word as you go.”

  “Our mother doesn’t know we’re writing to you either, and she would freak out if she did. So that’s proof that this is really important. We know that Zoe will be really happy to see you. She’s had terrible luck the past few years and she doesn’t deserve it because she’s a really good person. We all depend on her. Hoping to see you soon, Monica and Alexis Bellini

  “Wow. I have no words.” Zoe jabbed a finger at the piece of paper. “Did
you notice how they never actually said I was sick? You jumped to that conclusion because of the letterhead.”

  “Exactly. And then they pulled the patient confidentiality card. Except they called it ‘family confidentiality’ and I just interpreted it as ‘patient.’”

  “That’s just…diabolical. Seriously, I’m worried for them. Are they going to grow up to be criminal masterminds?”

  She gave him back the letter and resumed her jogging—which was only a few degrees faster than standing still.

  “What about the terrible luck part? Is that true?”

  “Sure. That’s more or less true. I don’t think anything in that letter is a lie, really.”

  He waved the letter at her. “What about the line about you being happy to see me? That might have been a lie.”

  Actually, her sisters had been right about that, too. She looked over at him, at those dreamy blue eyes and rueful smile. “I wasn’t happy at first, but I’m getting used to it. You’ve been excellent for business.”

  “I don’t think you need any help in that area.”

  “You’re right. The Last Chance is booming.”

  “And you’re in perfect health.”

  “Perfect,” she agreed. “I almost never get sick. Literally, I’ve missed maybe five days of work since I was thirteen. I think it’s all the olive oil I consume. Health tip from my mother’s side.”

  “Then what’s the terrible luck part?”

  And there it was, the one topic she wanted to avoid. Zoe shook her head as she brushed past an unruly alder branch. “Oh, no no no. We aren’t done figuring this thing out about my sisters yet. So you think they did all this because of the festival?”

  “That’s my theory that I just came up with. Last night, one of your delivery boys asked if I’d sing at this festival. Your sisters never mentioned it to me, but they seem to be in charge.”

  “It’s their baby, for sure.” She waved away a mosquito. One consequence of her slow jogging pace is that insects had no trouble keeping up. “Of course. It all makes so much sense now! It’s their obsession at the moment. They’ve gotten a few local bands to commit, but it’s a small-town, low-profile thing. No A-list musician wants to be part of a first-time event put on by a couple of teenagers. Why on earth would they think you would be interested?”

  He shot her a meaningful look that made her flush slightly. Was he implying she was the reason he would be interested?

  “Okay, our former friendship, sure. But they had to basically lie…okay, I can see what they were thinking. Get you back here on false pretenses. Then you’d reconnect with your hometown and want to give back in the form of headlining their little project. Wow.”

  “Never underestimate the determination of a teenager,” he said with a slight smile. “Remember how hard we fought to get permission for that lake house party?”

  “I never got permission,” she pointed out. “I snuck out.”

  “And there you go. This letter is the equivalent of sneaking out. You gotta give them credit for creativity.”

  “Oh, they’re creative, all right.” She felt like gnashing her teeth and brandishing her fist in the air like one of her Greek firebrand ancestors. “Ask them about their Moose Turd pizza. That doesn’t make any of this okay. The worst part is, I can’t figure out how to punish them for this without involving my mother. I’m just the big sister here. I’m not in charge of them.”

  He jogged in place, giving time for her to catch up. “Do they really need to be punished?”

  “Of course they do! They manipulated a busy, world-famous singer into coming to Alaska. I’m sure you had better things to do than camp out at the Eagle’s Nest and eat pizza.”

  “Hey, that’s not all I’m doing.” He looked wounded. “I’m working with the volunteer fire department. I’m helping the local economy. I’m jogging.”

  She made a face at him. “I believe the proper term is ‘strolling.’ Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, you could be anywhere in the world right now, and thanks to my naughty sisters, you’re here.”

  “Is that such a bad thing?” He glanced over at her with a funny expression on his face—a mix of vulnerability and humor. Padric had always been the kindest person she knew, bar none. Her family members were generous, fiery, quarrelsome and full of pride. Padric used to be her refuge from all the Bellini drama. She’d go over to his house and they’d hang out, watch silly ’90s comedies and play cards and talk about whatever came into their heads.

  “No, it’s not,” she said softly. “I’m glad to see you.”

  His expression lightened. “You weren’t at first.”

  “I was…hurt. We never even said goodbye. You were just…gone. And everything was so awful after your family left. Everyone whispered about us at school. My parents had terrible fights every night. I had nowhere to go because you were gone. Once, I snuck though the window of your house and just curled up in your old bedroom, even though all the furniture was gone. But at least it was quiet and no one was yelling at each other.”

  He stopped jogging and snagged her arm to bring her to a halt as well. “I’m sorry, Zoe. I’m really sorry.”

  She waved him off. “It wasn’t your doing. I know that.”

  “Even so, I never thought about your end of things. You were stuck here dealing with the fallout. I got to move to Florida and start clean, like nothing ever happened. That’s not exactly fair.”

  “Fair?” She snorted. “Since when does fairness come into it? It isn’t ever fair that kids pay when adults screw up. Our friendship…well, we had a good run, I guess.” She tried a cheeky smile. “Nothing says childhood friendships are supposed to last forever.”

  He touched her on the arm, a light, tentative caress that she didn’t resist. He ran his hand down her arm and took her hand in his. It felt warm and familiar, and yet somehow wildly new and exciting at the same time. “It wasn’t just a friendship, Zoe. It was a lot more than that.”

  Those words, in his deep voice, sent chills up and down her spine.

  “One kiss.” She shrugged.

  “It wasn’t just a kiss.”

  She ran her tongue along her lips, in a kind of sensory flashback. She remembered exactly how his mouth had felt against hers. The taste of honey and baklava and forest air and chapped lips came rushing back.

  His eyes dropped to her lips and his pupils darkened.

  A shot of wild energy swept through her, as if someone had just administered a dose of adrenaline. She and Padric still had that core of attraction between them. Holy shit. As if nothing had changed in the past fifteen years.

  And if that was the case…a few other things made sense, too. Like her fiasco of a love life.

  Shoving all those thoughts aside, she stepped back. “You’re right. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was two kids with no idea what was about to hit them. Not exactly a happy memory.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her, as if assessing how much she meant those words. Since she had the kind of face that revealed everything—she blamed her eyebrows—she quickly changed the subject.

  “Back to the twins.” She launched into a “fast walk,” which was all she could handle at this point. “I’m going to withdraw our sponsorship of their festival.”

  “But isn’t it called the Last Chance to Rock? I’ve seen the flyers.”

  “They ought to call it Last Chance to Live,” she muttered, which made him smile. “I suppose they can keep the name, but that doesn’t mean I have to support it. I’ll withdraw our donation. I can’t support something that causes them to act like teenage criminals.”

  “I get it. I do. But look, as a musician, I’m all in favor of music festivals. I hate to see their project suffer because your sisters messed up.”

  Why wasn’t he more upset? He was the victim of their evil plan. Although “evil” might be overstating it a bit. Or maybe she’d think so after she calmed down. “Aren’t you angry?”

  “No. I’m not, actually. I’m gl
ad to be here, and it’s entirely thanks to them that I am. But I’m not in charge of their upbringing, so I get why you want to punish them.”

  “They need to understand what they did and why it’s wrong.”

  “Absolutely. The worst part, for me, was that I was really worried about you. That’s on them. They need to own that. So—I have another idea.”

  “What?”

  “What if we turn the tables on them?”

  She frowned over at him. The gleam in his eye told her he was concocting one of his especially fun schemes. “Explain, please.”

  “Well, due to patient and family confidentiality, do they actually know whether or not you have a medical issue?”

  “Our family tends to know every little thing about each other.”

  “Not every little thing.” He tapped the letter, which he’d put back into his pocket. “Obviously.”

  “You have a good point there.” She tilted her head at him. “Okay. I’m listening.”

  Chapter Six

  It wasn’t hard to find the twins. Padric tracked them down at Dark Brew, the coffee shop where the teenage crowd liked to hang out. Together with Joseph Kenai, the kid who’d invited him to sing, they huddled over a single laptop. Papers covered with sketches of logo designs littered the table.

  He composed his face into the most serious expression he could manage. “Monica, Alexis, can I have a word?”

  They both jumped to attention as if he’d used a cattle prod on them. “I better go anyway,” said Joseph. Judging by his guilty expression, he was in on it, too.

  “You can stay if you like. It’s about the festival you invited me to.”

  “Oh. Nah, I’m good. They’re in charge anyway. See ya!” He snagged his hoodie—with the Lost Harbor High sea monster logo—and hurried away. Did he mutter “wouldn’t want to be ya” as he left? There was a good chance.

  Padric pulled out a chair and spun it backwards. He sat down and rested his arms on the back. The girls watched him, wide-eyed, two slightly different variations on the theme of dark eyes and curly brown hair.