by Nancy Fraser
She responded a few minutes later. 1:00 dorrit’s i may be late order me a blt
He laughed aloud. Omitting punctuation and capital letters wasn’t her style, but he liked it on her.
After lunch, he would get to work. The nice thing about doing a photo feature for a big magazine was that they also paid well. That the article might encourage entrepreneurs to bring development to Dickens gave him pause, but the town—like most any other small community with tourism as its main draw—suffered from a severe lack of revenue. It was a twofer, too—he was also shooting at different holiday locations throughout the year for a celebrations book.
Fee’s bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich hit the table just as she rushed through the door at Dorrit’s Diner, her hair wild around her face. She yelled a thank-you to the server and slid into the booth across from Jed. “So, how are things at the camp?”
“Great, really, although I’m in the market for a stove and fridge. We were going to sell it for Mom and Dad, but after being there, I’m reluctant.”
She took a long drink of ice water. “Lots of memories there.”
“There are.”
As she always had, she tracked the route of his thoughts. “So, why don’t you buy it? Do you own a home somewhere else?”
“No. We never got around to it.” Never wanted to. Owning a home was too much like settling down. He’d put Heather off on that until it was too late.
Remembering that was like a gut punch that kept hitting again and again. Every time he heard of a woman with breast cancer, he remembered not being there when his wife had needed him. Every time he remembered that he’d left Fee behind knowing she needed him to stay. He hadn’t known she was pregnant, but he’d known she needed him. He’d known.
“Maybe it’s time,” said Fee. “I was going to buy a house. It would have had a thousand-year mortgage, for sure, but the opportunity to buy the store here came up at the same time. I never intended to come back, you know, especially with Ailey at Michigan State, but I wanted to be home again. I loved Michigan, but never really belonged. Dad grew up there, but my roots were planted in New England. You know?”
He did know, because he’d never belonged anywhere, especially after Heather’s death.
Maybe Fee was right. Maybe it was time to put down those roots she mentioned. The apartment in Portland was no more than a place to keep his clothes. Why not buy the camp and make it his home base? Admittedly, it wasn’t convenient to an airport, but he didn’t mind that; the train station was right in town. He hadn’t owned a car in years, choosing to rent one when he needed it, so he’d have to buy one. He wouldn’t mind that, either, if he got right down to it. He wasn’t even sure when he’d stopped having one of his own.
He wouldn’t even need to have the house appraised. Not really. He knew how much his parents hoped to make on the sale, and it was well within his means. They’d be thrilled to have one of their kids take ownership of it. Mark and Lacey would be thrilled, too, thinking he wouldn’t charge them rent if they came to stay while he was traveling. They’d be right, too.
The thought made him chuckle. “I do believe I’m going to do it. I’m going to become a homeowner.” He was more excited by the thought than he’d have expected. “Merry Christmas to me.” He might even have a tree, a place to hang the cardinal that was still in its bag at the cottage. Not this year—he was too busy—but maybe next.
He raised his water glass and tapped it against Fee’s. “Thanks for helping make that decision. Now you can help me pick out a stove and fridge.”
“I’m happy for you.” Her smile assured him that she was. So did her laugh when she spilled water on the front of her sweater. “And I’ll have some free time to help you, too. Ailey’s leaving early. She’s taking the train to New York and flying to Ireland with my mother.”
Although Fee’s smile didn’t waver, something stricken crossed her eyes.
“What are you going to do for Christmas?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I’ll stay busy. You remember what Dickens is like during the holidays. There’s never a lack of entertainment.”
“Will you spend it with me?” he asked, reaching for her hand where it lay between them. “Not just Christmas, but the other stuff. The tree-lighting and maybe a sleigh ride and whatever else we can come up with. We were friends before we were anything else, Fiadh. Let’s be friends again.”
Chapter 3
JED HELPED AILEY FINISH packing, an exercise that had Fee laughing so hard she almost forgot she was going to spend her first Christmas as a mother without her daughter in the house.
“They have shampoo in Ireland,” he promised, “and even underwear. Don’t waste space. Take your favorite jeans, but only a few pairs—with the intent of wearing them more than once so you don’t wear them out too fast. Don’t take sweaters—their sweaters there are beautiful.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt what I’m sure is a commonsense approach to travel,” said Fee, laughing at her daughter standing with sweaters in both hands, looking back and forth between them, “but we really can’t afford full replenishment of her wardrobe. Underwear is one thing, sweaters are quite another.”
“Oh.” Jed looked thoughtful. “Okay, pack the sweaters, but not the shoes. They take up way too much room. Wear your most comfortable pair when you go and buy more when you get there.” He held up a silencing finger to Fee, shaking his head in a sorrowful way that made her laugh again. “Since, had I known of your existence, Miss Ailey, I most certainly would have been your favorite pretend uncle or maybe even your godfather, I would have been buying you presents for nineteen years. Therefore, I’ll keep you in shoes for the next year. How’s that?”
“Jed!” Fee glared at him.
He looked back, six feet two of gorgeous innocence, and she had to stop herself from gasping just a little.
“What?” he asked. “I’m being reasonable.” He raised imploring hands to Ailey. “Don’t you think I am? It’s your opinion that counts here. Your mother’s just being squirrely.”
“Squirrely?” Ailey squinted at her mother. “That kind of fits.”
“I am not,” said Fee, falling headlong into their trap. “I’m...concerned. And beyond it being your turn to pay for pizza, Healy, you don’t owe either of us anything.”
“Are you saying I can’t be Ailey’s godfather?”
No, because even all these years later, I wish you were her father. The thought nearly brought tears to Fee’s eyes, and she got up, going into the kitchen and calling over her shoulder, “Does anyone want more coffee?”
She heard a murmur from the next room, then sensed Jed’s presence when he came into the kitchen. “I upset you, didn’t I?” he said, stepping close enough to her that she felt his heat. Or maybe she just wanted to. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m just having some moments, thinking of my baby leaving home.” She turned, right into the waiting circle of his arms, and leaned against him without even giving it any thought. “You’ll be a great godfather. Any chance you want to help out with the college loans? She has a huge scholarship, but there are a still a lot of expenses.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Anything you need. Or she needs.”
She laughed, although his instant offer broke her heart a little—or mended it. She wasn’t sure which. “We don’t need anything, but thank you.”
He waited, just a heartbeat, then asked, “Does Roger—”
“He’s not involved. He’s never met her, nor acknowledged her. He knows, because he saw her when she was little and figured it out. He called and asked. I told him to stay away from her and he has.”
“Does Ailey know?”
“She knows...part of it. Not everything.”
“You’re an amazing mother. You know that, don’t you?”
The words were like a cleansing shower. Every day of raising her daughter had had new mistakes in it. “I have an amazing child.”
He grinned. “And now I have an amazi
ng goddaughter.”
“You do.” Ailey’s voice warned them that she was coming into the room, and Fee stepped away from Jed. “One who plans on developing an expensive taste in shoes. That all right with you?”
“It is.” Jed’s grin softened into a smile when he looked at Ailey.
Later that afternoon, she dropped her daughter off at the train station with scarcely a tear shed, although on the way home, she drove past her house twice before she remembered to stop. She reflected that once again her life was changing in ways she wasn’t ready for. The house felt empty and lonely, even with the Christmas tree twinkling brightly in front of the living room window. She thought about going to the shop and getting together with Eleanor to work on a project, but she didn’t have the heart for it.
She wished she had a date, not that dating often proved to be a positive thing—she’d come to the conclusion that it was something she just wasn’t good at. Her mother used to tell her not all men were like Roger Kroft. Although a few years of counseling had gotten Fee past the worst of believing they might indeed all be, the sad truth was that there weren’t all that many like Jed Healy, either.
Frowning and feeling sorry for herself, she stood at the door of the refrigerator, chewing absently on a piece of pizza left over from lunch. The night shouldn’t feel much different than if Ailey had only returned to Michigan, but it did. It was if her daughter had taken a longer step into adulthood—one Fee wasn’t invited to join. She couldn’t drive to Ireland for a long weekend the way she could to East Lansing, although she was glad their proximity to Canada ensured that her passport was up-to-date in case, God forbid, something happened that required her to make the trip to Kinsale.
Her phone was ringing when she went back into the living room. “Hey,” said Jed when she picked up, “want to go ice skating?”
“The lake’s not frozen.”
“No, but Grosvenor’s Pond is. The skate shack’s open so you can even rent skates.”
She had her own, although she hadn’t skated since Ailey’s middle school years when she’d spent much of her time as either a chaperone or a volleyball mom or both. “How long’s it been since you’ve skated?” she asked, although if she was going to look like an idiot, there were worse audiences for it than Jed.
“Long enough that you’d better be prepared to hold me up.”
Her response that scenario created startled her. Yes, she had found Jed Healy more physically exciting that anyone she’d ever known—there was no denying that. However, that had been twenty years before. She hadn’t exactly lived in a cocoon since then, although she hadn’t loved anyone, either.
He had. He’d loved and he’d lost and there was no way he was ever going to look his old high school buddy and girlfriend-for-a-few-weeks in any way other than as someone to drink coffee with.
Why not? The thought worked its way into her consciousness and wouldn’t leave. It wasn’t realistic to avoid hurt at all costs, was it? Even if it was, it was lonely, and she didn’t want that. She’d never liked the way her mother avoided it—Kate Brady always seemed to be running from something—but maybe being overly cautious about relationships wasn’t the best way, either.
Why not indeed?
“I can do that,” she said. “Shall I meet you there?”
“I’ll pick you up. That way, whichever one of us doesn’t break something will only have one vehicle to worry about.”
She laughed. “Good point.”
“See you in thirty.” He hung up before she could change her mind, and she put the half hour to good use.
The hunter green insulated leggings she’d bought on clearance in the spring went perfectly with the sweater her mother had brought from her last trip Ireland. The long underwear she wore under the sweater wasn’t particularly sexy, but her plaid hat was, and the gloves and scarf that coordinated with it were warm.
She took care with her makeup, scowling at the eye shadow that had dried in its container since the last time she’d worn it.
Her first thought when the doorbell rang was that he should have come on in as he would have in the old days. But this wasn’t the old days. They weren’t in high school or best friends anymore.
Right. They weren’t in high school. They weren’t kids. She didn’t expect every emotional or sexual experience to end in happily ever after.
She opened the door, feeling heat in her cheeks she hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“Wow,” he said, closing the door behind him, “you look gorgeous. Does Ailey know you dress up and go out with strange men as soon as she leaves town?”
Fee had to catch her breath. Speaking of gorgeous... When she found her voice again, she said, “Why, no, she doesn’t know that, and I’m counting on it staying that way. As far as she’s concerned, I’ve only ever had sex once.”
“Does she—”
“No.” Fee interrupted him with a shake of her head. “She knows it wasn’t a relationship in any good definition of the word and that I was seriously young and stupid and so was he. If she knew it all, she’d want to know why he got away with it. Why I didn’t turn him into the police and press charges.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I think I’m a pretty good mom, but courage wasn’t my long suit. I was afraid to do it then and I’d be afraid to do it now.”
“What would you do if it were Ailey?” He held up a hand to stop her from answering and went on. “I’m not criticizing you. As far as I was concerned, me beating the hell out of him was a good response and I’m still glad I did it. I’d be glad to do it again if you need that—for Ailey this time. But I’m sure things are different from a mother’s point of view.”
She turned off all the lights except the one over the kitchen sink, reflecting that maybe her daughter had been right with her last direction that day. “Get a cat, Mom. You know you want one.”
The house was so lonely.
“I hope I’d encourage Ailey to press charges,” said Fee when they were in the car. “I’d make sure she went to the doctor right away, that we’d do everything right. But I didn’t tell my folks, remember? I didn’t tell anyone but you until I figured out that there were going to be a lasting little repercussion. I didn’t tell anyone at all about Ailey until I’d already decided what I was going to do.” She hesitated for a minute, staring through the windshield at the clear dark night. “There’s nothing I’d change, Jed, because changing anything would mean I wouldn’t have Ailey or she wouldn’t be who she is.”
He didn’t answer, but reached for her hand and held it.
Blinking hard, she held her fingers very still in his so that he wouldn’t let her go. Sometimes the need to be touched was painful in its intensity. Not settling for less than what she really wanted in a relationship often came at a high cost.
“Sometimes,” her friend Joanna said—more than once—“you just need to have a good time. You don’t have to always be in love.”
Fee knew that was true, and she hadn’t spent the last twenty years as a nun, but a good time had never been enough. Maybe now, with Jed, it could be.
She curled her fingers into his.
IT STOOD TO REASON, Jed thought, that the first time since high school that he and Fee went skating on Grosvenor Pond, they’d see the last person either of them would have wanted to see.
Roger Kroft stood alone on the periphery of the small pond, his arms folded over his chest. He wore glasses these days, one of those karma things. He had broken more than one pair of glasses in day-to-day bullying, and Jed hoped it was an act that got paid back to him in kind. He looked dissipated, and Jed was happy to see he was losing his hair—the brave comb-over did little to hide that fact. His linebacker shoulders seem to have dropped to his stomach.
Fee skated beside Jed on their first wobbly lap around the pond, her gloved fingers clasped loosely in his. He knew when she saw Roger, feeling her tighten up as certainly as if he’d been holding her. She stumbled, and he put his arm around her waist, pulling her into his si
de. If she went down, he’d go with her. Maybe this time, unlike that long ago other one, he’d cushion her fall in the process instead of making things worse.
“Well, hell,” she mumbled, her voice so low that he had to bend his head to hear it. “I haven’t seen either of you in twenty years and now here you both are. Is it a new kind of déjà vu where the script has changed? If it is, I want to do the rewriting.”
“I think you should. And I’ll keep my fists to myself.” He was feeling more comfortable on the blades of his skates—maybe that made him able to say the words that came next. “I’m so sorry.”
She looked up, and stumbled again. They were going to fall yet. He tightened his arm around her. “Sorry for what?” she asked.
“When I fought with him, I made it worse. Not that I’m sorry for beating the hell out of him, but I should have done it later. The main hall at Dickens High School wasn’t the best place to have done it.”
“Don’t you dare apologize.” She sounded breathless, and he slowed the strokes of his skates. “No one but you ever knew the full truth of what happened that night with Roger. He lied and I wouldn’t say, so his friends believed him and mine supported me. After I graduated, when I knew I was carrying Ailey and you’d already left Dickens, but before he’d moved to wherever he went, it was what kept me going. I wouldn’t go anywhere by myself, and even when I was with a friend, he’d give me this menacing look, but I knew he wouldn’t do anything because he was afraid of you. Even after you were gone, he didn’t know you weren’t coming back.”
“I’m glad I didn’t make things harder.” He was relieved by her response. He had enough regrets in his life.
Roger didn’t move from where he stood, although he did drop his arms and occasionally sip from a flask he took out of his pocket. Jed met his gaze as they skated past and was pleased when Roger grew pale.
“I hate to be a whiner, but my ankles haven’t had this much of a workout in quite a while. I need a break,” said Fee. “Preferably on the other side of the pond.”