Slow Burn

by Janice Maynard

  Nikki reached for the lamp and flipped the switch. He hated that. He didn’t want her to see what was coming.

  If he had any guts at all, he wouldn’t let her have hope. He raked his hand through his hair, feeling the cold sweat on his forehead. “I don’t think I’m going to stay for my father’s trial, Nikki.”

  She sat up, too, pulling the sheet to her chest, covering her breasts. Her hair was a tumbled, fiery cloud around her face. Her eyes were huge. “I don’t understand. Why not? You need closure, Jake. If you don’t face Vernon, you’ll never get over what he did. He’ll always be the bogeyman.”

  Perhaps there was truth in what she said, but he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to admit it. “He’s nothing to me. I don’t care what happens to him. He destroyed us, Nikki. I can’t forgive him for that.”

  Every bit of color leached from her face. He thought for a moment she might be sick. “That’s not true,” she said. The words were sharp.

  He stared at her. “Of course it is.”

  The heartbreak dawning in her eyes was familiar. He’d seen it fifteen years ago. He might have seen it five years ago in Atlantic City if he’d left when she was awake. She lifted her chin, visibly angry. “You destroyed us, Jake. Not your dad. He disappeared, but you could have come back anytime, and you didn’t.”

  The attack came out of nowhere.

  He gaped at her. Nikki was always on his side. Always. “I had to leave. He’d made my life impossible. Everywhere I went, reporters followed me. One of them shimmied up a ladder and tried to climb into my bedroom. It was hell, Nikki. And all of it, his fault.”

  “I know it was hell. I was there, remember?”

  “Well, at least your dad died. He paid for his sins. You didn’t have people thinking that you and your mother were hiding a fortune somewhere.”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say.” Her pallor increased. “I loved my dad, even though I hated what he did. I also hate how your dad and mine tore lives and families apart. But time moved on, Jake. I’m not stuck in the past. I’ve had to build a new life from the ground up. I have a child who loves me and a mother who depends on me for emotional support. I’m not that frightened high-school girl anymore.”

  “The implication being that I’m a coward?” His temper simmered.

  She hesitated. “Not a coward. No. Not that. But you’re emotionally stunted. You’ve had every resource in the world at your fingertips, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to grow up and come back and do your part. We all needed you, Jake. Oliver. Your mother. Joshua. Me.”

  Her words chipped away at him, exposing his weaknesses. It wasn’t that he’d been too lazy or immature to share the burden—he’d been afraid. Afraid that he would come home and make things worse. “I offered Josh my help more than once. But he assumed I was a screwup, so he wasn’t interested.”

  “That was in the past. My God, Jake. He offered you the helm of the company recently. How much more does he have to do to prove he believes in you?”

  “I’ve lived on the road too long to change my ways. People aren’t always who you want them to be, Nikki. You expect too much.”

  Her eyes were wet. Her jaw wobbled. “Do I? Maybe so.” One tear broke loose and ran down her cheek. “I think you should go sleep on the sofa now.”

  There it was. The death blow.

  He had brought it on himself. Provoked this confrontation. The ice in his chest melted, leaving a gaping hole. It hurt. Dear God, it hurt. But he didn’t know how to fix it.

  Nikki stared at him, anguish on her face. “What about Emma?”

  “I’ll still see Emma. She has nothing to do with my father.”

  Now Nikki’s smile was bitter. “I think you’re wrong, Jake. How you relate to your daughter has everything to do with this chip on your shoulder. You’ve carried it far too long. It’s crippled you.”

  He took the hit stoically, but he fought back, lashing out. “What did you say your college degree was in? Surely, not psychology.” He heard the sarcasm and condescension in his words, but he couldn’t seem to stop this train wreck of a conversation. “I’m a grown-ass man, Nikki. I think I can handle my own life.”

  She huddled against the headboard, her knuckles white where she gripped the sheet. “Maybe you can. But I have to ask, what about the wedding? I don’t want to be rude to Joshua and Sophie.”

  “You’ll come to the wedding with me. My family is expecting it. I’ve told them about Emma, so they’ll want to see you.”

  “Won’t that be fun,” she said bitterly. “I’ll find my own way there, Jake. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

  “Don’t be absurd. I’ll pick you up at noon.”

  “And what happens to you and me after the wedding?”

  He saw it then. Despite everything he had said and done, in Nikki’s despairing gaze he saw one last remnant of hope amid her pain. “I don’t think there is a ‘you and me,’” he said, the words brusque and flat. “Lots of people share custody of children. I know who I am. And who I’m not.” He slid out of bed and found his knit boxers. Grabbing up his shirt and pants, he started getting dressed.

  Nikki wrapped the sheet around her body, toga-style, and went to her closet. “I’ll get you some sheets for the sofa,” she said.

  Suddenly, he couldn’t stand to be near her for another second. It was tearing him apart. “No,” he said curtly. “I’m leaving.”

  She whirled around, frowning. “Don’t be stupid, Jake. The snow is deep. And it’s still coming down. You’ll wreck your car.”

  He shrugged, staring at the woman who had shown him a glimpse of what his life could be like. “Don’t worry, Nik. I always land on my feet.”

  As he grabbed his cowboy boots and the rest of his things and walked to the living room, he waited for her to follow him. Instead, the house was still and quiet. It would be a few more hours until dawn arrived. No need to worry about Emma getting the wrong idea. By the time she woke up, Jake would be back in Falling Brook at his impersonal hotel.

  The Christmas tree mocked him with a cheerful glow. It was still lit, because Jake and Nikki had been too desperate for each other to pay attention. When he was completely dressed, he listened one more time to see if Nikki was going to waylay him. To lecture him about road safety. To tell him what a stubborn, closed-off bastard he was.

  But nothing happened.

  The front door had one of those twist locks that didn’t require a key to be secured from the inside. When he was bundled up, he opened the door, stepped out into the hushed silence and waded through the snow.

  He was alone in a deserted landscape.

  Nikki cried for an hour, cried until her nose was stuffed up and her chest hurt. For long minutes, she had expected a knock on the front door. She had strained to hear it. Because it would be Jake admitting that the weather was too bad to leave.

  Apparently, risking life and limb was preferable to staying with her.

  How could he make love to her so beautifully and feel nothing?

  If Jake had shown any glimmer of interest in a permanent relationship, Nikki would have fought for their future. She would have traveled anywhere with him. Emma hadn’t started school yet. And Roberta might soon be going back to the friends she had known for decades.

  But Jake had run from Nikki yet again, because of shadows from his past. She was long beyond what had happened fifteen years ago. She wasn’t reliving old hurts, not anymore. She deserved a man who would love her, body and soul. Maybe he was out there somewhere.

  In the meantime, she had to let Jake go. The hurt was like severing a limb, but it would only hurt worse if she refused to face the truth. Jake Lowell didn’t love her. He couldn’t. He was too empty inside.

  The trouble with heartbreak and emotional meltdowns was that the world kept on turning. Emma bounced into Nikki’s bedroom at seven, he
r impish personality bolstered by a good night’s sleep.

  Nikki managed not to groan. “Hi, baby.”

  “Where’s Mr. Man?”

  “Why would you ask that, hon?”

  “It was snowing last night. You told me we couldn’t drive in snow. Remember?”

  “Ah. Well, that was us. Mr. Jake is a very good driver. So he went home after you were in bed.”

  “When is he coming back?”

  “I don’t know.” Nikki, in desperation, changed the subject. “Let’s get you some breakfast, so you’ll be ready to play when Grandma gets here.”

  In typical Jersey fashion, the weather pattern had shifted again. It was too early in the season for sustained cold temps. The snow was already melting, and the sun was out. The streets were a slushy mess. But not particularly dangerous.

  Nikki’s shift at the diner started at ten today. Though she was glad it wasn’t any earlier, she still didn’t know how she was going to make it through eight hours of on-your-feet work. Lots of caffeine maybe. And a stone-cold commitment not to think about stupid, emotionally stunted rich men.

  Roberta Reardon didn’t spare Nikki’s feelings when she arrived. “You look terrible. Are you getting the flu?”

  “No, Mom. I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well.”

  “I see you have your tree up. How did you manage that since I last saw you?”

  Emma answered, innocently. “Mr. Man helped.”

  Roberta’s eyebrows went up. “Mr. Man?”

  “Jake. He had dinner with us.” Nikki glanced at her daughter. “Go take off your pajamas and get dressed, please.”

  When Emma headed for her bedroom, Roberta pressed for more. “And?”

  “And nothing. He’s getting to know Emma. He wants to be part of her life.”

  Her mother’s smile was gentle. “You don’t seem happy about that.”

  “It will be difficult,” Nikki admitted, her throat tight.

  “Because you’re in love with him?”

  “Mom!” Aghast, Nikki turned to look down the hall, making sure Emma hadn’t picked up on the adult conversation. “She’ll hear you.”

  “So it’s true?”

  “No, Mother,” Nikki lied. “Jake and I are friends who share a child. That’s all we’ll ever be, and I’m okay with that.”

  She waited for the lightning to strike or for a huge sinkhole to open up and swallow her for telling such a whopper.

  Roberta seemed disappointed. “Okay then. I believe you.”

  “I have to finish getting ready.”

  Nikki fled the room, telling herself she absolutely would not break down and cry. She was a grown woman. Not some fragile schoolgirl fixated on romantic fantasies that had no base in reality.

  She made it to work with ten minutes to spare, so she grabbed a cup of coffee and took it to the storeroom. This place, this small restaurant, had become a familiar home. She liked her coworkers, and she liked her customers. The days had a comfortable routine.

  Everybody needed to eat. And, surprisingly, a lot of people needed someone to talk to when their lives were empty. Nikki could do worse than stay here at the cozy retro diner indefinitely.

  But the truth was, the salary for assistant manager wasn’t all that great. When Emma was older and her needs were more expensive, Nikki would need a different job. Perhaps one that made use of her degree in communications.

  She had thought about working for an ad agency. Maybe doing PR for a local business. She was a decent writer, and she didn’t mind speaking in public.

  Her moment of quiet time ended abruptly when one of the line cooks swung open the door and grabbed a can of baked beans. He glanced at the clock with a grin. “You hiding out in here, Nikki? Rough morning?”

  Her face must have looked worse than she thought. She managed a smile. “Not enough sleep. You know. Kids...”

  “Don’t I ever.”

  The door closed, and she took a deep breath. Nothing had to be decided today. She would stay the course until after Christmas. January was a good month for resolutions and starting over. Maybe Falling Brook was the answer. Maybe Joshua really would offer Nikki and her mother a lifeline. Who knew what the future held?

  The only certainty was that Nikki’s future didn’t include Jake Lowell.

  Twelve

  After Jake left Nikki’s house in the predawn hours, he made a concerted effort to spend time with his family. If he was leaving after the wedding, he needed to fulfill his responsibilities as a son and a brother.

  Oddly, the movie with Oliver, the rushed lunch with Joshua at Black Crescent and the afternoon tea at his mother’s Friday afternoon were cathartic. He’d had in mind offering his support to them, but he ended up being the one who felt comforted.

  His mother, especially, surprised him. They bypassed the pleasantries quickly and waded into deep water. “How are you doing, Mom? Really, I mean. I know you went to see Dad.”

  Eve Lowell looked much as she always had. Younger than her years. Dignified. Stylish. She was older now, of course. But she still had the posture of a beauty queen.

  She wrinkled her nose at his question. “It was all small talk. But enough to show me that it’s time to move on. I’m not the same person I was. It took me a long time to find my strength, but I did. I still have my rough days, but I’m in a good place now, just like Oliver. When Oliver told me about his visit and how he came to the same conclusions, I was glad he went. It was healthy and positive for both of us.”

  “Do you still love Dad?” Jake hadn’t known he was going to ask that question. When his mother was silent, he wished he hadn’t. Finally, she shook her head slowly. “It depends on what you mean by love. Your father was declared legally dead. I’m no longer bound to him by law. But I said vows a million years ago. Vows I meant at the time. I certainly didn’t know my husband was going to become a felon.”

  “So, is that a yes or a no?”

  She looked at him wistfully. “We can’t always choose whom we love, and we can’t always stop loving them simply because they don’t deserve our love. I know your father sent you away, Jake.”

  “He didn’t send me away.” Anger snapped in each word. “He left. He left you. He left me. He left all of us. And I couldn’t handle the gutter press. They hounded our family and made us miserable. Because of him.” Jake shook with sudden fury—fury he hadn’t realized he’d pushed down, and had pushed down forever, it seemed.

  “My poor boy. He left you homeless, didn’t he?”

  Jake felt raw suddenly. And he hated that vulnerability. “I owe you an apology, Mother,” he said formally. “I never should have left you to face everything on your own. I’m sorry I didn’t stay. I’m sorry I didn’t come back.”

  “I had Joshua,” she said, waving a hand. “We got by.”

  Though her words weren’t meant to wound, Jake felt them cut deep. He loved his brother dearly, but always being cast as the screwup was not a role Jake relished.

  “Is there anything you need?” he asked. “I’ve done well financially.”

  “Jake, dear boy.” She patted his hand. “Over the years you’ve sent me jewelry and artwork for my birthdays and Christmas. I never felt forgotten. I knew why you couldn’t come home. But I hoped that one day the hurt would fade.” She paused, her expression turning crafty, mischievous even. “Now tell me about Nikki and this baby of yours. Joshua has filled me in on the basics.”

  Jake hunched his shoulders. “Emma is four. She’s mine. I’m making arrangements with Nikki, so I can fly in for the occasional visit. And, of course, we can video chat.”

  His mother’s face fell. “I don’t get to see my granddaughter?”

  “I suppose that’s up to you and Nikki.”

  “It strikes me that I haven’t heard you talk about Nikki and you.”

  “There’s
nothing there, Mom.”

  “You made a baby together.”

  “That was five years ago. We bumped into each other one evening in Atlantic City and...well, you know.”

  Eve’s smile was sweet. “I may be getting older, son, but I do understand sexual chemistry.”

  “We’ve been apart fifteen years. Whatever we had is gone.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Why?” He frowned at her.

  “Because you’ve never found another woman to settle down with and make a home. That strikes me as odd. You have a huge heart, Jake. A generous spirit. And though you’d chew glass before you’d admit it, you’re a sensitive and loving and wonderful man.”

  “I thought you were disappointed in me,” he said gruffly, caught off guard by her praise. “I failed you.”

  “Nonsense,” she said stoutly. “You followed your own path. Don’t hide in the shadows forever, dear boy. You may not get too many chances for happiness. Seize this one before it’s too late.”

  In that moment, he knew he was tired of running, tired of being so slow to change and grow. Despite all evidence to the contrary, he felt a fillip of hope that something new might be close at hand. He was ready to reach for happiness. But he still wasn’t sure he could handle it or how to get there.

  Maybe it was too late...

  Though Jake appreciated his mother’s support, his intentions were all over the map. Maybe Falling Brook wasn’t as bad as he remembered. After all, the town had been nothing more than an excuse, a convenient bogeyman.

  He’d had no contact at all with Nikki. He couldn’t bring himself to text her. What would he say? Her words still rang in his ears. You destroyed us, Jake. Not your dad.

  Apparently, Nikki Reardon was not as forgiving as Eve Lowell. Mothers always made excuses for their misbehaving sons. Lovers simply walked away.

  Though, in all fairness, Jake had been the one to leave. He’d given up the wild, glorious uncertainty of Nikki’s bed for the cold comfort of his iron-clad, selfish rules.