Arlene’s heart clenched as she smiled down at her daughter. “I love you, too, monkey-girl.”
Part II
Chapter Twelve
The day was perfect. The sun sparkled in a brilliant blue sky, and the ocean air was fresh and clean as Jack parked in the lot for the Baldwin’s Bridge hotel, which had an awesome restaurant overlooking the water.
They’d talked about his kids nearly the entire ride. Jack had focused—hard—on keeping his hands on the steering wheel and his eyes on the road as he filled Arlene in on the latest exploits of Luke and Joey. After the breakup, the boys had moved with their mom to California, to the little town north of San Francisco where she’d grown up. Becca had done it in part in retaliation, to make it harder for Jack to see his sons; and in part to live closer to her parents, which was not a bad thing considering her still less-than-stellar mental health.
The end result, though, was that Jack saw his kids about as often as Arlene saw Maggie.
“Technically, we share custody,” Jack said, trying to keep his voice even as Arlene climbed out of the car and stretched. She was totally killing him—and had been from the moment he’d spotted her, waiting for him on the front steps of Will’s apartment building, from the moment her eyes had widened as she’d seen him in the Zipcar, even before she’d smiled.
His mouth had gone dry and his heart had pounded. And then she’d gotten into the car and sat there, so close and warm and sweet-smelling, with those long, pale, smooth, gracefully shaped legs.
She was dressed for a warm day at the seaside, in modestly cut shorts and a not-too-snugly-fitting T-shirt, half socks with pom-poms on the back and sneakers on her feet. Despite the soccer-mom look, he couldn’t stop thinking about sex. And not just everyday, ordinary, run-of-the-mill sex, but sex with Arlene, which, the one night he’d had it, had nearly blown off the top of his head.
“Although,” he continued in that same even voice, because dropping to his knees, weeping, and begging her to skip lunch and just check into the hotel with him was not going to achieve more than very shortsighted, non-long-term immediate gratification, “because money’s so tight, that translates to me finagling an assignment on the West Coast and then working my ass off to get the story written in half the time humanly possible, so I can spend a few days with my kids.”
“We all do what we have to do,” Arlene said simply as she gazed back at him over the top of the Zipcar—and Jack knew she was well aware that his driving it meant he no longer owned his own transportation. He, who’d always loved his car, had made the choice to give it up because the cost of garaging it in the city was exorbitant.
“I’d be lying,” he told her quietly, “if I didn’t mention, right about now, that I’ve been thinking about relocating out there.”
“California,” she said as something flickered in her eyes.
Jack nodded. “Maggie, um, suggested it. You know? Like as part of the master plan.”
Arlene laughed at that, but it wasn’t because she thought it was funny. “Oh, my God.” Tears filled her eyes. “She’s really willing to give up everything—her friends, her life—”
“Whoa, hold on there, she’s not giving up her life,” Jack said as he came around the car to pull her roughly into his arms.
She didn’t resist. In fact, she clung to him as he closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet scent of her hair.
“What she’s got now,” he continued, “it’s … It’s a half-life, Leenie. You made a deal, I get it, I do, and your honoring it is admirable, but the sacrifice is Maggie’s, too.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Arlene whispered, and when she lifted her head to look up at him, he knew the next words out of her mouth were going to be a request for him to take her home.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he told her, talking quickly, and putting one finger against the softness of her lips when she opened her mouth to speak. “We’re not going to talk about this anymore, okay? Not today. Today we’re going to have lunch, and we’re gonna talk about music and movies and books and even non-war-related politics if we dare, plus I’m gonna tell you how great Maggie is. And the heaviest we’ll get is maybe a little strategizing for how to deal with her crazy friend Lizzie and Lizzie’s brother Mike—who is, right now, too old for Maggie, but I gotta confess that I relate to him with every screaming cell in my body, because I once had a thing for this really amazing girl who was too young for me.”
Arlene smiled just a little at that, and he couldn’t resist. He leaned down to kiss her. Gently. As sweetly as he could manage. Still, when he pulled back to look again at her, he knew she could see his desire—he couldn’t keep it from showing his eyes.
It was then that she surprised him.
“Who are we kidding, Jack?” she whispered. “Let’s just check into the hotel.”
Oh, yes please … Jack clenched his teeth over the reply, and instead said, in a voice that needed clearing a few times, “That’s not why I brought you here.”
She didn’t believe him, and the look she gave him made him laugh.
“It’s not,” he said as he made himself step back from her. He reached for the red-and-white-striped bag on her shoulder. It held her sweatshirt, a Red Sox baseball cap, and a bottle of sunblock—and probably, at the bottom, since it was so heavy, a book or some kind of weapon. A handgun. A Taser. A bottle of mace.
Jack had spent time in both Iraq and Afghanistan, and he knew that most military personnel carried deadly weapons while out and about. It was a hard habit to shake—the sense of insecurity that came from not being armed.
And, sure enough, she wouldn’t surrender the bag. “I got it,” she said.
“Okay,” he agreed and took her hand instead. “Let’s go have lunch.”
Chapter Thirteen
“I was thinking,” Robin said as he sat on the edge of the bed to tie his running shoes. His military-short haircut emphasized the angles of his handsome face and somehow made his already impossibly blue eyes even more strikingly neon when he looked up.
Jules was already dressed for their morning run—a ritual he missed sorely whenever he was gone, even for just an overnight. A ritual he missed among many other “rituals.” So to speak. Although, right now he was wishing he hadn’t been in such a hurry to get out of bed. It wouldn’t have taken much effort on his part to convince Robin to make their morning run an afternoon run.
“What?” Robin said as he smiled up at Jules—who realized he was standing there, just grinning at his husband like the village idiot.
“I’m just really glad to be home,” Jules simplified.
“You get any vacation time,” Robin asked, holding out his hand, “to make up for the extended trip? I mean, besides today?”
Jules laughed as, instead of his helping to pull Robin to his feet the way he’d expected, Robin pulled him down so that they were both sitting together on the bed, fingers tightly clasped. “I’m sure I’ll be able to arrange something,” he said. “You thinking western Mass? A little romantic getaway …?”
“Actually,” Robin said, “I’m thinking … family vacation. California.”
“California,” Jules repeated with a laugh.
Robin’s movie-producer sister Jane was married to Cosmo, a chief in Navy SEAL Team Sixteen, and they had a place in Coronado, as well as a house in LA. Vacations spent with them were undeniably action-packed and fun, but far from relaxing. They had a toddler, Billy, who was ridiculously adorable, but who fully embraced the concept of the Terrible Twos.
Cosmo’s mom adored Robin and always made a point to visit simultaneously. She was great, but she brought her own level of pandemonium to the noisy chaos with her need to play show tunes at astonishingly high decibel levels at least several times each day.
Family vacations were undeniably enjoyable, but they were never restful—or even remotely romantic.
“I was thinking,” Robin said again, “that we could bring Dolphina and Maggie with us. Will,
too, if he can get the time off. I’m talking, of course, after Arlene goes. Back.”
It was not lost on Jules—the way he said back, with that hesitation in front of it and the expression on his face that telegraphed the fact that the word left a bad taste in his mouth.
This past month, particularly the week-plus that Jules had been in Afghanistan, had been very hard on Robin.
And Maggie, who loved her mom, would be facing similar fears and worries—for far longer than a month.
Taking the girl to California with them wouldn’t merely be a diversion. It also was, on Robin’s part, a conscious effort to grow Maggie’s support group. It would help her, immensely, to let her spend some significant time with Jane, whose Navy SEAL husband constantly went into dangerous hotspots. It would be priceless for the girl to meet the entire group of SEALs’ wives, who would share their methods for coping. Plus, Maggie would return to Boston with a whole long list of new friends to e-mail and call—friends who knew exactly what she was going through while her mother finished up her current tour of duty.
In his head, Jules ran quickly down the list of SEAL wives who, along with Jane, lived out in California: Kelly, Meg, Teri, Savannah. Joan came and went, and would probably make a point to show if a gathering was planned. They were all intelligent, funny, compassionate, strong, determined women—great role models for a teenaged girl. Better yet, they would see a bit of themselves in Maggie and be proactive in maintaining contact by reaching out to her and making sure she knew that she wasn’t alone.
It was a brilliant idea—thoughtful and generous and kind.
And Robin was sitting there with trepidation in his eyes, at the idea of asking Jules to sacrifice his hard-earned vacation days. Forget about the fact that Robin was willing to donate some of his own rare days off, as well.
“I love you,” Jules told Robin. “Madly. Let’s plan this thing.”
Robin smiled his delight back at Jules, but then asked. “Are you sure, babe? Somehow we always seem to spend our vacations doing what I want to do.” He corrected himself. “I mean, sure, we do little things that you want, like right now, like go for a run, but—”
“Wait a minute,” Jules interrupted. “You don’t want to go for a run? I thought you wanted to go for a run.”
“No, we’re definitely going for a run because you want to go for a …” Robin’s voice trailed off. His eyebrows went up as he realized … “Whoa, really?” He laughed then added, “What part of Hey, babe, let’s stay in bed a little longer so I can rock your world did you think I wouldn’t want to hear?”
Jules laughed, too. “I don’t know. You got up. I thought—”
“I had to pee. I come back, you’re already getting dressed. I figured, okay, I’d have to wait until after lunch, at which point, by the way, I was very definitely planning to talk you into taking a nap.” As Robin spoke he kicked off his sneakers and pulled off his T-shirt and …Yup, his shorts went, too.
“Let’s run later,” Robin added as he grabbed Jules and pulled him back with him into their bed.
“You’re full of good ideas today,” Jules pointed out after Robin kissed him quite thoroughly.
And then they both stopped talking as Jules got to do exactly what he wanted to do on this, his vacation day.
Chapter Fourteen
Lunch was lovely.
The Baldwin’s Bridge hotel had outdoor dining on their patio, and Arlene’s view of the ocean was spectacular. Especially since it included Jack Lloyd sitting across the table from her. She’d always found him to be extremely easy on the eyes.
He looked up, smiling his thanks as the waiter delivered their check, and she used the opportunity to study him as he read the bill.
His pretty brown hair moved in the warm breeze, and his eyes were more green than golden brown today, matching the faded sage color of his nicely fitted T-shirt.
He’d delivered exactly what he’d promised—conversation that was carefully minefield-free. They’d bounced from a variety of lighthearted topics—including the plan she and Maggie had made over breakfast, to throw a Friday night party at the local laser tag amusement center. The idea being for Arlene to meet Maggie’s friends in a low-stress, high-fun social situation. And since Will’s apartment was too small for a party of any size …
Jack agreed that it was a good idea and a good location, and then suggested that the party was the perfect time and place for him and Will to have a few private words with Mike-the-high-school-junior.
The conversation had moved, then, to other subjects, skimming across them with lightning speed before landing, with both feet, on her job and her life in Iraq. Arlene had backed away from that, rather emphatically, and to her surprise, Jack hadn’t pushed—not even a little.
All he said was, “I’ve been over there, on assignment. And I know it’s not the same thing, not even close, but … I’ve seen it. I know what it smells like and … If you ever want to talk, you don’t have to worry about, you know, shocking me.”
She’d nodded and pretended to study the dessert menu, but in truth she couldn’t read a word past the blur of tears that had rushed to her eyes. Tears that Jack, in turn, gallantly pretended not to see.
As Arlene now watched him, he dug into the back pocket of his pants for his wallet, from which he extracted a credit card that he slipped into the leather folder with their bill. He held it up for the young waiter to grab on his way past, again smiling his thanks at the intercept, before reaching for his mug to finish off his coffee—milk free, but with three Sweet’N Lows.
He met Arlene’s gaze then and gave her a smile that was even warmer than the ones he’d shared with the waiter. “This was great. This was … a dream come true.”
She had to laugh at that, even as she reached across the table to take his hand. He drew his breath in, as if he were surprised by the sudden contact, and he looked down at their interlaced fingers. When he glanced back up and into her eyes, she could see it again. His desire. It was warm and solid and impossible for him to hide. At least from her.
“I think the dream-come-true part happens next,” she told him, and his gaze dropped to her mouth, but only for a second. “Seriously, Jack. I just want to … I don’t know. Feel good for a little while. And then get back to Newton so I’m there when Maggie gets home from school.”
“Getting a hotel room in the afternoon on day two, after not seeing each other for more than two years is not what I’d call taking it slowly,” he pointed out.
“I’m not going to be home for very long,” she countered, holding his gaze.
Jack nodded. “I’d … rather spend the time talking. About things that matter.”
Laughing, she pulled her hand free. “God, you’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not lying,” he said, laughing, too, but then immediately amended his declaration. “Well, okay, I’m lying because yes, yes, I want to say yes. I want to … Yes.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “But I don’t want to screw this up. I am not going to screw this up. So yes, I would rather talk to you. So how about this? We drive back to Newton, pick up Maggie from school, and then go to the airport where we catch the next flight to Vegas. We can talk all the way there—the flight’s about six hours, nonstop. We arrive, you marry me, we have a little celebration dinner, check into a hotel, getting Mags a separate room, and kiss her goodnight. At which point, I promise, I will make you feel very, very good.”
“That’s insane,” Arlene whispered, but she couldn’t look away. She just sat there, staring into his eyes, and she could see—she knew—that he wasn’t teasing or flirting or pretending. He was dead serious.
“I want you in my life,” he said quietly. “So, no. I disagree. It’s not insane. It’s quite possibly the most sane suggestion I’ve ever made. Ever.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know where to start.”
But she didn’t have to start, because he knew exactly what she was thinking. “You know me,” he persisted in that voic
e that had always flowed over her like velvet. “You’ve always known me. And I should’ve asked you to marry me, right on the very first day that I met you, because I knew, right then, right at that moment, that with you by my side, my life would be complete.”
“Except I was too young,” she pointed out tartly, “so saying that, doing that, would’ve meant, what? Three years of celibacy? Instead you opted to spend at least three of those months with Kim Bickford.”
“Holy shit.” Jack sat back in his seat. “You remember Kim? Jesus, I barely remember her last name.”
“She slept with me in my room,” Arlene told him, “when you and Will came to visit. It was pretty obvious, pretty quickly, that you weren’t dating her for her massive vocabulary. So don’t play the our-love-transcends-time-and-space card, okay? It doesn’t fly.”
“I’m only human,” Jack admitted. “I made a lot of mistakes. I won’t deny that. Hell, I still make mistakes.”
“And it doesn’t occur to you that this could be one of them?” she asked. It was her turn to lean forward. “You don’t need to marry me to sleep with me, Jack. I’m sitting right here. You don’t need to ply me with any bullshit, or even another glass of wine. I’m good to go. A sure thing.”
“It’s not bullshit,” he argued. “I was young. And stupid. God, Leenie, remember that weekend that we played that epic Monopoly game?”
Arlene did remember. It was post–Kim Bickford, and Jack and Will alone had come to visit for the weekend.
After the infamous full-family Monopoly match, she’d been unable to sleep, and she’d gone into the kitchen for a snack and found Jack sitting at the island counter, reading a battered economics textbook for a required course that was, as he’d said, “kicking the crap” out of him. They’d started talking. And talking. And were both still awake as the dawn lit the sky.
It was the first of about a dozen similar Saturday nights, before he’d started dating a girl named Shannon West. At which point he completely dropped off the map.
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