“Then what are you asking, Jenny?” He looked at her, his eyes smoldering. “Just what the hell are you asking of me?”
“I don’t know. I…I don’t want this…this coldness between us.”
“Should’ve thought of that nine years ago. You made your choice, and it wasn’t me.”
She wound her arms together in front of her chest and nodded. “I’m going to Boston for the weekend. I have a meeting and business to take care of there. Will you just think about what I’ve asked?”
“I’ll think about it.” He hesitated. “By the way, my dad had a stroke a few weeks ago. He’s in Rockland, and I know seeing you would mean a lot to him. If you have the time.”
****
Jenny was quite familiar with the route to the Rockland Rehabilitation and Nursing Center. Her grandmother had been a resident there for three months before she had passed away following a heart attack last year. Jenny parked the Forester in the visitor’s lot and grabbed the plate of cookies from the passenger’s seat. The pungent scent of antiseptic reminded her of the hospital and stopped her momentarily inside the door. She swallowed hard and headed to the front desk.
Jenny signed in and followed the receptionist’s directions to Mike Doyle’s room. She knocked and, when she heard a voice say, “C-Come in,” she stepped inside.
Mike’s face brightened with his lopsided smile. “J-Jenny O’C-Connell.”
“Hi, Mr. Doyle.” She walked to where he sat in a wheelchair. Tears burned the backs of her eyes as she recalled the strapping man who had lifted a lawn mower without assistance and lowered it onto a boat. Patrick looked just like his father, but without the graying hair and lined face. She held out the wrapped plate. “I made cookies. I hope you’re allowed to have them.”
“Th-Thank you. Set them on the t-tray and sit down.”
She removed her jacket and sat in a chair opposite him while he fumbled with the foil wrap and picked up a cookie.
He took a bite. “You remembered.”
“Yep, peanut butter crunch. Your favorite. My grandma used to make them for you by the dozens. Good thing she left me her recipe.”
“J-Jenny, I’m s-sorry about your family.”
She nodded. “Thank you.” She looked around the room. “So, um, you’re doing better?”
He struggled with halting speech. “Pa-trick s-seems to th-think so. But I g-guess you talked to him.”
“He told me you were here, yes. I wanted to come by, let you know I’m pulling for you.”
“You were always like a d-daughter to me. I hoped s-someday…” He shook his head. “I hear you work for a publisher.”
“Yes, I’m an editor for Harbor Lights Publishing.” She cleared her throat. “I…uh…” She looked around the room. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I haven’t been here since Grandma died.”
“I m-miss her, too. ’specially her pies.”
She grinned with him. “Grandma loved to bake. I’m afraid I didn’t inherit that gene. Just cookies. It’s the best I can do.”
He nibbled on the cookie. “You did f-fine.”
“I should go, let you rest.” She stood and reached for her jacket. “I really just stopped by to say hello and deliver the cookies. I’ll come again, though.”
“J-Jenny, wait. My s-son’s a stubborn mule sometimes. But I think he still c-cares about you.”
She closed her eyes to hold back tears. “Mr. Doyle, I care about him, too.” She opened her eyes and followed Mike’s gaze to the doorway.
Patrick stood there, staring at the two of them, his face drained of color.
A nurse’s aide appeared and excused herself to slip past him. “Time for your therapy, Mike. Your family will have to wait in the coffee shop.”
“Good. You two go and t-talk. I have work to do.”
The aide wheeled Mike out the door. Jenny turned away from Patrick, picking up her purse.
He cleared his throat. “Leaving?”
She nodded.
“Dad’ll be disappointed if you’re not still here when he gets back. It should only be about a half-hour. There’s a coffee shop down the hall.”
“I think I should go.”
“Jenny, you were right. We have to talk.”
She turned to face him. “What changed your mind? So you can tell me how angry you are? How much I hurt you when I left and married Matt?” She fumbled with the zipper on her jacket. “Don’t you think I already know that, and I’ve blamed myself every time I see you, the look in your eyes? You hate me.”
He covered the distance between them in two strides. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he forced her to face him. “I could never hate you. It would be so much easier if I could. I was pretty pissed with myself for a while for not coming after you. Jenny. We can’t change the past. But we can make peace with it.”
She shuddered and drew in a ragged breath. “You make it sound easy. But it isn’t. I know. I’ve tried.”
“Maybe we have to try together.” He added, “To make peace, that is. I’m sorry for the way I talked to you yesterday. Give me half an hour, and let me buy you a cup of coffee. Please?”
“Okay.”
She followed him along the hallway, past the receptionist’s desk, and into a cozy café with a counter and several high, round tables. She removed her jacket and hung it over the back of her chair. He returned from the counter with two cups of coffee.
“Thank you. So, I saw you with Cathy Blevins the other night.”
“Uh-huh.” He stirred cream into his coffee.
“I was surprised. I guess those rumors about her were just that.”
He grinned. “No, they were true. Cathy’s my former sponsor.”
“Sponsor?”
“AA.”
“Oh.”
“And I shouldn’t have told you that.”
She stared at him for a moment. “You’re in AA?”
“Before you claim responsibility for driving me to drink, you had nothing to do with it. It’s a disease, runs in the family on my mother’s side. You’re absolved.”
She watched steam rise from the coffee cup. “Am I?”
“Jenny, life’s too short to waste it on anger, resentment, and old hurts. It took me a while to get to the point where I could say that and mean it. But it’s true. I won’t lie to you. What happened between us hurt, and I wanted to hurt you back.”
“What happened? You mean what I did.”
“I mean, what happened. We both made choices. I didn’t listen to what you wanted.”
She nodded. “I didn’t give you a chance to change.”
“Yes, well… Can we at least be friends?”
“You were always there for me. I can’t figure out what you got out of the relationship, though.”
“You can’t? Honestly? Jenny… God, you’re the only person who ever really knew me. I could never bullshit you. You’d look at me with those green eyes, and I’d see the color deepen and know you were looking right through me.”
She nodded, unable to speak.
“We were young, and we didn’t have much to go on in terms of knowing how to build a relationship. I chose work that took me away from you for months at a time. And I expected you to wait here for me. I was afraid that if you went off to college, I’d lose you. You chose an opportunity to get out of this town and experience more of life. And, now, here we are.” He reached for her hand. “I forgive you. Can you forgive me?”
“It’s easy to forgive you. I don’t know how to forgive myself.” She picked up her purse and slid from the high stool. “It was good to see you again, but I have to go. Please tell your dad I’ll come by another time.”
“Jenny, wait.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t. Is that how you’ve learned to deal with conflict? Run? The Jenny I knew never ran from anything.”
She whirled on him. “You have no idea how I’ve learned to deal.” She grabbed her jacket from the back of the cha
ir. “And, for the record, the Jenny you knew doesn’t live here anymore.”
Chapter Seven
Jenny parked the SUV in one of the visitor’s spaces in the parking garage of the Bayside Condominiums. She called upstairs to let Ashley know she had arrived. Her friend met her as she stepped off the elevator.
“It’s so good to see you.” Ashley gave her a hug, taking the small suitcase from her hand. “How was traffic?”
“Not bad. Thursday evening, headed into the city. You know.”
She hung her jacket in the closet and followed Ashley to the guest room. “I can take my suitcase.”
“Let me look after you for these few days, okay?”
Jenny laughed. “You think I need ‘looking after’?”
Ashley peered at her over the tops of the rimless glasses. “You know darned well what I mean. How was it, coming back to Boston?”
Jenny shrugged. “I tried not to think about it. I guess when I go to the house, I’ll find out.”
“Want me to go with you?”
She shook her head. “No. I mean, I do, but I need to do this myself. You can pick up the pieces when I get back here. I thought I’d go there tomorrow, after our meeting.”
Ashley took her hand and walked her to the kitchen. “You don’t have to attend the meeting, if you think it’s going to be too difficult with everyone there. You and I can talk tonight, then I can fill you in tomorrow evening. I shouldn’t have pushed you to come but, truthfully, I needed to see you.”
Jenny smiled and squeezed her hand. “Your brand of ‘looking after’ me? I appreciate it, Ash, but I need to get back into work. Though I may take you up on the offer of working from Miley’s Cove, at least for a little while.”
“You got it. Now, how about dinner? I can order Italian, Chinese, Ethiopian.”
“Or I could cook.”
“No, you’re my guest. You’re not cooking. And I’m sure as hell not cooking.”
Jenny laughed. “That’s a good thing for both of us. I don’t have much of an appetite, so you choose.”
“Italian it is. Feel like going out? Let’s go to Bruno’s. Give me ten minutes.”
She didn’t feel like going out, but figured she needed to push herself a little further. “Sure.”
Half an hour later, she and Ashley stood inside the family restaurant, waiting to be seated. Jenny’s eyes flicked around the room and toward the game room. The last time they had met here, Jenny had brought Cooper with her. A blond-haired boy of about five years raced past them. Jenny swayed.
Ashley grabbed her arm. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”
“It’s okay.”
“We can go somewhere else.”
“No. It doesn’t matter. He’s everywhere I am anyway.”
The hostess showed them to a booth and took their drink orders.
Children’s laughter burst from the game room. Jenny tried to tune into the music wafting from overhead speakers. “So, the company is growing?”
Ashley nodded. “We’re adding the paranormal and fantasy fiction lines, and we’re going into digital publishing. It’s an expanding market. I don’t know why we didn’t pursue it sooner.”
“Paranormal and fantasy fiction, huh?”
“What do you think?”
“I could use a little fantasy. The paranormal, I’m not so sure.”
“I’m glad you and I can talk about this first. I want to give you the option of choosing what material you want to edit. You were handling most of the contemporary romance and women’s fiction. I don’t want to assume you want to stay with that.”
“You think reading romance and books about women facing adversity will be too much for me?”
Ashley shrugged. “What do you think?”
Being in the city again, listening to the laughter of children—the stress strung her to a snapping point. “I think you’re patronizing me. Give me a little credit, Ash. I can separate my work from the rest of my life.”
“Actually, that’s what I’m afraid of, that you’ll set up walls and end up locked in by them.”
“What does that mean?”
“I know your heart is broken. More over Cooper, than Matt. That’s okay. Though I’m not sure you believe it’s okay. That didn’t come out right.”
“It sure as hell didn’t. You make it sound like I had no feelings at all for Matt, for my marriage. I loved my husband. And I valued my marriage. At least until he changed.”
Ashley reached over and touched her hand. “Jen, I’m not expressing myself very well, but you know I care about you. I see you steeping yourself in guilt, shutting yourself off from life.”
“It’s called grief. I need time to grieve. That’s all.”
“And you need to figure out how to continue to live.”
“What makes you the expert…?” Her voice took on a sharp edge. Anger that she had suppressed surged to the surface. She paused while the waitress delivered their drinks and took their orders. When they were alone again, she continued, “What makes you the expert on my needs?”
“I’m not. But I know what I see and hear. You’re sinking, Jen, and I don’t know how to save you.” Ashley’s eyes filled.
Jenny blinked. Suddenly she was in the bay, cold water enveloping her. She had to decide to either succumb to it and breathe it in, or fight her way to the surface. What had made her reach for the ladder and pull herself up onto the dock?
“I know you care.” Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry I’m such a bitch to be around.”
“No, no, no. You’re not. Look, I’m afraid for you to go back to your house alone.”
“I have to face it. I’ll be okay. Other people face this every day, and they survive. I will, too.”
Two salads slid onto the table, along with a basket of garlic bread. “You need refills on the drinks?” the waitress asked.
Jenny turned her tear-streaked face away and searched her purse for tissues.
Ashley answered, “No, thanks. We’re okay for now.”
Jenny blew her nose and stuffed the crumpled tissues back into her purse. “Ash, I appreciate your concern. I do. Can we talk about something else now? Anything else?”
****
Jenny steeled herself and pushed open the door to Harbor Lights Publishing. Phones jangled through the hum of voices. She made her way to her office, managing to dodge her co-workers. A stack of mail occupied the center of her desk. When she sat down to reach for it, Cooper grinned at her from the wooden-framed photo. She stared into his blue eyes—the color of the sky on a summer day. She couldn’t help but smile back, until her heart tightened with the realization that he was gone. Shoving the envelopes into her briefcase, she picked up her purse and headed to the conference room.
The room fell silent when she entered. She lowered her eyes and took an empty chair near Ashley.
As if sensing her anxiety, Ashley called the meeting to order. Once they got down to business, the mood lightened. Jenny fell into the business at hand. It was a welcome relief from the way she had been spending her days.
At the close of the meeting, a few of her colleagues stopped to wish her well as they exited the room. No one was overtly sympathetic. She guessed they had received a lecture from Ashley before she got there.
Leaving the office building, she squinted into the bright sun and fumbled in her purse for her sunglasses.
“Jenny?”
Jenny spun around at the sound of her name.
“It is you. I didn’t know you were back in town.” The woman closed the gap between them and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry about what happened. I know you’re probably sick of people saying that.”
Her face pressed into mink, Jenny stifled a sneeze. “Thank you, Greta.” She stepped free of the bear-like hold and forced a smile. “Congratulations on your latest novel. I’m sorry another editor had to step in at the last minute.”
The woman shook her head. “Don’t give it a second thought. My God, when I think of
what you’ve been through.”
“Yes, well. It was good to see you. I’m not staying in the city. I’m returning to Maine tomorrow or the next day.”
“You haven’t left Harbor Lights, have you?”
“No. I’ll be working from Maine for a while. I’m staying with Ashley this week while I take care of some business.”
“Good. I’d love to have you as editor for my next project.”
“I’d like that. Your work is always so clean when it comes in, you make my job easy.”
“Thank you.” Greta grasped Jenny’s hand. “Come to my apartment for dinner this evening. I’m having a few people over. Invite Ashley, too.”
Jenny shook her head. “I don’t think I’m up to it.”
“It’s a casual dinner. A colleague of mine from the university, his wife, and one other friend. No one you know.”
“May I call you after I check with Ashley?”
“Of course. But I’ll look forward to seeing you at seven. You remember the address?”
Jenny nodded. “Yes. I’ll call.”
Greta air-kissed her on each cheek. “I have to run. I’ll see you this evening, I hope. Ciao.”
Jenny headed toward her car parked down the block, fished her new cell phone from her purse and punched in Ashley’s cell number.
“Hi, Ash.”
“Jen. Where are you?”
“Downstairs. I just ran into Greta Ainsley as I was leaving. She wants us to come to dinner this evening at her place.”
“I’m free, but are you up for it?”
“I don’t know. I mean, she’s an important client. She says there are three other guests, but no one we would know.”
“What do you want to do?”
Jenny bit her lower lip. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt. It would no doubt do me good to do something normal.”
“Good.”
“I’ll let her know we’ll be there. I’m going back to the apartment.” She wasn’t ready to visit her house and face the past.
“See you soon.”
Jenny snapped the phone shut and closed her eyes. She felt suddenly tired. No, not tired. Weary. She was weary, all the way through her bones. The last thing she really wanted to do was try to engage in conversation with strangers. Perhaps it would be better, though, than conversation with acquaintances who stumbled on their words, not sure of what to say. The other last thing she wanted to do was curl up alone with her misery. She opened the phone again and located Greta’s number, leaving a message on voicemail. “It’s Jennifer Barnes. Ashley and I will be happy to join you for dinner. Thanks, Greta.”
Act of Contrition Page 4