She’d screwed up. She’d recognized, and tried to ignore, her immature bid for retaliation against Jack. Now disaster waited. She could sense ruin poised and ready to pounce.
Chapter Three
Heart pounding, Jack hit the brake pedal and pulled into a nearby open parking spot. He gripped the steering wheel tighter to stop his hands from shaking. He’d driven to Blue Peak to see if Carlos wanted to have lunch, not expecting a shock.
Two women, one with a small dog on a leash, hugged in front of the funky looking store. The distinctive Woodstock logo, a dove perched on a guitar neck, dominated the store’s window. Of the women, only one captured his attention. Sally.
He hadn’t been prepared for the gut punch her appearance caused. Photos hadn’t communicated her vivacity, what his second wife would have referred to as joie de vivre.
Sally’s hair had remained bright red, and she wore it in long waves. He loosened his grip on the wheel, his fingers twitching with the memory of her hair spread across his pillow. Their pillows. Damn, why had she left him? What had he done wrong besides work to support them by establishing a solid career?
The women and dog walked into the store. His ex-wife still had a confident saunter and wore those swishy clothes, the ones that had whet his appetite for a closer look. Better yet, hands-on experience. Yeah, but she’d shown her true colors when she’d deserted with Carlos.
Even her devious actions hadn’t stifled his preference for sexy redheaded lovers. He knew he’d tried to replace Sally and failed. Every single time.
Keeping tabs on the woman who raised his son had been his only alternative. He’d always considered having an investigator on retainer a smart move to track Carlos’s development. In case his son would need him to step up. Not that he ever had. But the photos forwarded to him hadn’t prepared him for seeing Sally. Too bad her presence could still grab him by the balls even at a distance of one-hundred-feet.
Right. Like avoiding Sally was an option, even if he’d wanted to steer clear of her. Carlos’s request had been unambiguous. Their renewed relationship included Jack coming to terms with Sally. His son hadn’t specified how to achieve a friendly platform with her, simply stated the deal breaker condition. He suspected Carlos had harbored a wish for his parents’ reconciliation all these years. Nah. Too crazy.
After finally getting to meet Carlos, he needed to make one final stab at the life he desired. He wouldn’t walk away from Sally again without learning the truth about their divorce. Once he discovered why she’d run, he could move on, find a woman to love, and make the new relationship last. Learn to trust.
Jack pulled his ball cap on low and donned sunglasses. He locked the car and walked toward his son’s cafe without looking toward Sally’s store. If she saw him, he’d be done before he’d started.
He entered The Collective Unconscious Café and the mouth-watering aroma of good coffee, fresh-baked cookies, and toasted bread met his nose. A line of folks waiting to order gave him time to scan the room.
Two large front windows admitted sunlight, highlighting the oak floor’s warm color. Most of the wooden tables were filled with customers wearing satisfied smiles above their half-empty plates. A good sign for business.
His attention turned to Carlos. Damn, his son had turned into one good-looking dude. Took after his old man in that department, no bragging. If he could drop twenty years, he and Carlos standing side-by-side would resemble brothers.
The last person between him and his son stepped away, and he moved to face Carlos. “Hey, man. Want to have lunch with me?”
Carlos grinned. “I’m a person down today. How about sandwiches and hanging in my office with my dog Henry?”
“Sounds good.” He rubbed his stomach while surveying the multi-colored chalked menu items on the blackboard hanging behind the counter. “You know what? Everything sounds good. Surprise me. I’ll eat whatever you make.”
“My office is down the hall.” Carlos pointed to his left. “We’ll have privacy that way. What do you want to drink?”
“Better give me a mug of your strongest coffee.” He’d tossed and turned all night, replaying their momentous meeting. His son’s ultimatum about Sally hadn’t cooled his need to establish a father-son relationship, but had given him plenty to think about. Even though he’d wondered about aspects of the divorce, he wasn’t quite ready to confront her.
“Why don’t you go on back? I’ll bring a tray.”
He reached for his wallet.
“No way. My house, my rules. Your money is no good in here.”
Jack began to argue then shrugged and accepted the lunch. His second wife had taught him giving went both ways. He walked to the office conscious that the more time he spent in the main room, the greater the chance he’d be sighted. He didn’t want to turn his son’s life upside down. That’s partially why he’d stayed away, even after Carlos had turned eighteen and the custody agreement had ended.
At the office, he scanned the room, hoping for clues to his son’s life. A Mission-style oak desk that looked like it weighed the same as the rest of the furnishings combined dominated the room. A stack of books sat on a small table. His son liked to read. Good.
A Border collie abandoned his bone, got to his feet, and approached Jack, tail wagging. Jack grunted when he knelt to do the meet and greet with his son’s dog. That fall off the stage during a closed rehearsal years ago had left his back iffy.
“So you’re Henry.”
The dog sat and cocked his head.
“Glad to meet you, Henry.”
Henry lifted his paw to shake.
“Smart guy, aren’t you? I’m not surprised.”
Carlos appeared with two filled coffee mugs. “Henry knows all my deep, dark secrets. I tell him everything.”
Jack struggled to his feet. “Then I’d better get in good with him.”
“He’s a sucker for biscuits, bones, and chew toys. But don’t give him everything at once. He’ll come to expect it from me, too. I’ll be right back with the sandwiches.”
He continued looking over the office. A wood file cabinet stood against one wall, and two straight-backed wooden chairs were before the desk. Carlos would like Jack’s Arts and Crafts furniture. This was a similarity between them he hadn’t obtained from the impersonal investigator’s reports. Finding more in common had been an underlying reason for coming here.
Framed photos on the desk reminded him of the regular photos he’d seen of his son. Jack planned to tell Carlos today that he’d been following his progress all along, but hadn’t decided how to raise that topic. Would Carlos think him a loser because he’d watched from the wings?
He’d picked up the photos as Carlos walked in with a tray. “That blonde bombshell is my fiancée. The other you probably recognize as Mom.” He set his tray down on the desk. “Abby’s looking forward to meeting you.”
No hint whether Carlos had told Sally about their meeting yesterday. He’d have to yank information from him. That characteristic came straight from Sally. “Abby is one good-looking woman.”
“Hands-off, Dad.”
He glanced up, startled. Carlos’s grin dominated his face. “I don’t know if you should worry about my hands. Musicians are automatic chick magnets. That’s why I got into the business.”
“Bull. You could no more stop playing and writing songs than breathing. Your career was pre-determined.”
He stepped back in surprise, blinking at his son’s astuteness. “That’s a pretty strong statement. What makes you so sure?”
“Former psych professor. Even when I’m wrong, I’m right. That’s the part of teaching you learn from experience.”
Heart muscles clenched. Would Carlos see his dark side and reject him? He rubbed his chest. Better stop worrying and accept what he had for now. “Well, professor, I came here for lunch. That food you brought in looks damn edible, and I’m hungry.”
“Take your pick. I make a mean tuna salad, and the turkey wrap with brie and a
pple is one of my best sellers.”
Jack didn’t care what he ate as long as he could share time with his son.
****
Sally greeted Abby on the sidewalk outside her store. The short hairs on her neck stood up, a sign that energy ran hot today. She had the feeling that someone watched them.
She scanned the street but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. A tall, dark-haired man in a ball cap headed toward Collective Unconscious, but people entered the coffeehouse all day. She rubbed her arms. The feeling left as quickly as it had hit, as if the watcher had turned away. The warmth on her neck must be from the unseasonable high temperatures today.
She shook off her unease. Bending to pet Abby’s dog, Bunny, she said, “Cutie pie puppy, why aren’t you with Henry?”
“I’m on my way to drop her off. I’ve got a job bid for a mural this afternoon.”
“I knew your business would take off.”
“Thanks to you.” Abby turned toward the store. “I love your new window display, Sally. What made you feature Woodstock? It’s not a big anniversary or anything, is it?”
“Not this year. Last big anniversary, the town expanded our normal juried arts festival to include live music with a Woodstock theme. Folks came from all over.”
“Sorry I missed it. So this display is normal? It doesn’t have anything to do with Carlos meeting his dad yesterday?”
Sally cleared her throat. That was a question she had no intention of answering. “Let’s go inside and visit if you have a few minutes.”
“Sure do.”
They settled and Sally sprang to change the topic. “Abby, now that your business is squared away, when are you and Carlos going to get off the stick and set a wedding date? You know his last fiancée Sierra stalled him for years when they were engaged. You don’t want to do the same, do you?”
“Jeez, Sally, pile on the guilt why don’t you? Good thing Carlos and I share manipulative mothers. We know how to handle Guilt 101 when we see it. Or in your case, Advanced Guilt 502.”
Sally’s arm bangles clattered when she raised her hand to her forehead. “Me? Manipulative?”
Abby raised her eyebrows. “Thinking of joining the little theatre group?”
“Okay, so I’m impatient for grandchildren. You are planning for children, aren’t you?”
“You know we are. Besides, you taught me to have patience and believe that the universe will bring all things at the right time.”
“Yeah, well the universe can’t move too fast when it comes to my grandkids.” She squinted. Abby’s aura was nothing more than a dim outline. Was she losing her ability to see?
“Quit studying my aura, Sally.”
“Geez, I never should have started tutoring you. You know my secrets.” No way she’d admit her ESP was on the fritz. She tilted her head. “Would you like some tea?”
“No, as I said, I’m headed to the coffee house, but thanks. Want to walk over with me? Carlos made a big batch of peach tea this morning.”
“I know. I’ve been meaning to get over there all day.” She jumped to her feet and stilled. A shadow of the Woodstock logo, portrayed in clear relief, lay on the floor before her in a patch of sunshine. Fear churned her stomach. No not an omen, merely sunshine and shade.
She deliberately crossed the silhouette and threw open the door. “Okay then, let’s go.”
Abby headed to the coffee house’s side entrance. “I’ll get Bunny settled in the office and meet you at the counter. Won’t take but a minute.”
On entering Collective Unconscious, Delia Johnson, the woman who had restored Abby’s gardens, hailed her. When Delia left, Sally checked her watch and frowned. What took Abby so long?
She tapped her fingernails on the counter after placing an order for the peach tea and a cappuccino to go for Abby. When the barista, Chrissy, delivered the drinks, she asked, “Where’s Carlos?”
Chrissy shrugged. “I was covering the kitchen until he took a lunch break. Last I saw, he took two sandwiches to his office. Right after he left, business slowed down, or I’d be in trouble out here by myself. Oh, don’t tell him I said that. Smitty and I have finally gotten him to give us more responsibility.”
“I won’t say a word.” So that’s what held Abby—she kept Carlos company. She picked up the cups and walked down a short hall. The office door was shut. Well, understandable. She’d give them a minute to break apart. She put down one cup, knocked lightly then bent to regain her beverage.
Carlos threw open the door as she was stooped over. “Mom. Um, I didn’t expect you.” He stood in the opening.
She straightened with difficulty. “Sorry to interrupt. Do I need to start making appointments? I’ve got a coffee for Abby. She said she had a bid meeting this afternoon.”
“No, um, no, that is, Abby is here.” He looked over his shoulder. His jaw firmed, as if he’d made a decision. “I’ve got another guest, that’s all.”
The expression on his face sent a chill up her spine. She held out Abby’s cup. “Well in that case—”
A familiar male voice called out, “You’d better come in. A delay won’t make this any easier.”
Carlos pushed the door wide and took both cups from her hands. When he stepped back, Jack was revealed sitting in a chair before the desk. Abby sat next to him, her hand on Jack’s arm. The dogs leaned against his knees.
The scene imprinted itself on her brain like a camera’s flash captures an image in a split second. Her balance shifted, and a feeling like earthquake tremors rumbled under her feet. And like an earthquake, the aftershocks were potentially more devastating than the event.
“Jack.” She pushed his name out from between clenched teeth. Any more words would have to wait until she caught her breath.
“Sally.” He watched her with a wary expression that likely mirrored her own.
His body language told her he was one step, or one sentence away from running for the door. Plus, if his complexion matched hers for paleness, they both resembled ghosts in a blizzard.
“Ah, Jack surprised me for lunch today,” Carlos said. “Great, huh? He got to meet Abby and Henry. Bunny, too.”
Her son babbled. He should be nervous. This scene held possibilities for anything from drama to comedy and all stops between.
Jack didn’t speak, but his expression communicated for him. The look was familiar. He’d taken on his clam persona, waiting for her reaction before committing himself.
She hid her hands behind her back and inhaled deeply several times before stepping into the room. Carlos plopped a chair next to her in silent invitation. She ignored his hint, deciding she kept the upper hand by remaining on her feet. Jack recognized her ploy and unfolded himself to stand in a slow, sinuous movement she wished she didn’t remember. Figured age hadn’t made him creaky.
“Good to see you again, Sally.”
She wanted to pull out the snark and reply with something like, “Sorry I can’t say the same.” Instead, after a nudge from Carlos, she nodded, her tight, dry throat making speech impossible. She recovered her tea from Carlos and took a sip in what she hoped resembled nonchalance.
He’d aged well. Better than well. His hair was more salt than pepper, but his full lips remained hazardous to her sanity. She snuck another look over her beverage. He had crinkles at the corners of his eyes that told her he’d never lost the habit of clenching his eyes shut when he concentrated. Laugh lines around his mouth, but no saggy jowls. He’d experienced plenty of life yet come out ahead in the looks department.
Sometimes rat fink ex-spouses didn’t get what they deserved.
Jack’s gaze caught hers. “You know Carlos looked me up, right? I didn’t approach him first, so you’ve got no complaint regarding—”
She was happy he stopped, still uneasy about how much he’d revealed to Carlos about their custody agreement, and her insistence on Jack’s absence. Another gulp of tea lubricated her throat for speech.
“I’m not upset, simply surpris
ed to see you after all this time, that’s all.” She was proud to note her voice didn’t waver. Well, not much.
“I understand you stood by our agreement.”
He hadn’t said, “in spades,” but she read between the lines. She’d give him his due. “So did you.”
“I guess you were right to leave me.” He placed his hand on their son’s shoulder. “This man would make any parent proud. I’d probably have screwed him up.”
Sally’s anger stirred. What a bunch of hooey. She hadn’t left him. He’d walked out on his family without a backward glance. Mr. Big-Time-Musician-On-The-Rise who’d abandoned his family and hadn’t contested the divorce. Who thought he could pay her off with a one-time check proffered by a lawyer. Acting the proud father role after the hard work she’d done. Right. And throwing implicit blame at her for the marriage not working to top it off.
“Gee, thanks for the praise. Means so much from you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Still can’t take a compliment, I see.”
“I can when they’re sincere.”
“Sally, I’m trying my best, here.” He put his arm over their son’s shoulder. “Carlos won’t see me if it hurts you.” He dropped his arm. “And I won’t hurt Carlos.”
She tapped her foot. “So now you’re the thoughtful father? Caring what happens to your offspring?” She crossed her arms, careful not to spill her tea. “I don’t believe you.”
“Me? You don’t believe I care? You’re the one who walked out, not me.”
“What are you talking about? You gave the term “outta sight” a whole new meaning when you left on tour and sent divorce papers instead of coming back to work out our problems.”
He stared at her. His face turned red. “Bullshit.”
“Still the master of the English language, I see.” Sally’s anger turned to confusion. His anger had roused, but he’d stayed calm. She recognized that as a sign that he believed what he said. Her muscles loosened. She dropped into the chair behind her. “I don’t get it. You’re saying I walked out?”
Déjà Vu All Over Again Page 3