by White, Karen
She leaned inside, and Jillian leaned with her to see over Lauren’s shoulder. She watched as Lauren’s fingers traced along the bottom of the storage compartment under the lid and then stopped on an almost invisible button.
Lauren moved her head to look at Jillian. “Do you see it? You have to pretty much feel for it, but when you find it, all you do is press.” She pushed on it, and Jillian heard a faint clicking noise and watched as the side panel inside the window seat popped open.
“Wow. Has that always been there?”
Lauren shrugged, then reached in farther to take something out of the hidden compartment. “I don’t know. It’s been here since we moved in, is all I know. I’m pretty sure my parents don’t know it’s here.”
She sat back on the floor, her hands cupped around whatever she’d taken from the compartment, and regarded Jillian evenly. “I need to give you something.”
Jillian sat next to her, trying to push back the feelings of panic and excitement that spread through her. “Is it a present? Because my birthday isn’t until July.” She tried to make Lauren smile, but failed.
“Can you keep a secret?”
Deeply offended, Jillian said, “You know I can. I never told your parents about that pack of cigarettes my grandmother found in her kitchen.”
“This is much more serious. You have to swear that you’ll keep this safe and that you’ll never open it after today.” She paused for a moment, looking down at her hands. “I might have to go away for a while—Don’t worry. I’ll let you know where. But I won’t be able to bring a lot of stuff with me, and I didn’t want my parents to find this. So can you swear that you’ll keep this safe for me?”
Jillian held up her right hand. “I pinky swear.”
Lauren closed her eyes for a moment. “No, Jillian. Just promise me. This isn’t kid stuff I’m talking about.”
In that instant, Jillian realized that Lauren was already gone from her, that her friend had already crossed that invisible barrier into adulthood and had left Jillian behind to find her own way.
Jillian swallowed, then slowly lowered her hand. “I promise.”
Lauren leaned over and put a small wooden box in Jillian’s upturned hands. “Here.”
The solid box of pine felt cold in her hand, and she felt even colder when she saw the two intertwining Ls carved in the lid. When she lifted it, she could hear something small and solid rolling around inside. Lauren opened the lid, and Jillian saw a folded note and a wooden heart that had been pierced with a gold chain to wear around a neck.
Lauren stilled her hand when Jillian reached for the note. “I don’t want you to read it.” She picked up the necklace. “But I wanted this. Linc made the heart for me, remember? I’m going to put it on now, and I’ll never take it off. It will always make me think of you and Linc after I’m gone.” She fastened the chain around her neck, then put the lid back on the box.
Jillian wiped her eyes with her fingertips. “How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. It might be a long time.”
Jillian gripped Lauren’s hand. “Don’t do this, Lauren—you’re only seventeen. Your parents love you. You’ve got friends and a happy family and only one more year before you graduate. Please. Don’t do this.”
Lauren pulled her hand away and stood. “You don’t understand, and I can’t explain it to you. Just trust me that I’m following my heart and that I know things will work out in the end.”
Jillian dropped her pretense of trying to be mature and began to cry. “I don’t want you to go. I know it’s selfish, and I know you have a lot more to lose than I do, but I don’t want you to go.”
Jillian was surprised to see tears in Lauren’s eyes, too. “I know it’s hard. We both just got to get through this. It’ll work out in the end. You’ll see.”
“Does Linc know about it?”
A stricken look passed through Lauren’s eyes. “No. And he can’t know—promise me you won’t tell him. He’d kill me if he found out.”
“He loves you, Lauren. He’d never hurt you. You know that. Maybe if you tell him, he’ll help you out and you won’t have to leave.”
Lauren was sobbing now, her head on her folded arms on the window seat cushion. “No! Now promise me. Promise me you won’t tell him.”
She pressed her forehead against her friend’s, as if to somehow keep their friendship within them, to maybe ignore the sure knowledge that it had already fled. “I promise, Lauren. I’ll keep it safe. And I won’t tell anyone.” She squeezed Lauren tightly, and Lauren hugged her back as Jillian felt her friend’s tears on her cheeks. They cried and rocked together, sitting on the hard floor of Lauren’s bedroom, while Jillian clutched the small box with the entwined Ls and sharp corners that bit into the skin of her palm.
Jillian leaned back against the sofa, stretching her legs out in front of her, feeling the sharp edges of the box with her fingers. She wasn’t sure why she’d brought it from her bedroom. She’d had it in her hand when Gracie had called to her, forgetting that she’d been holding it as she made her way downstairs. But now, sitting opposite her daughter, she realized Gracie was the last person she wanted to see the box. There had never been a question worth asking, or that Jillian hadn’t want to answer, that Gracie hadn’t asked. Shoving the box under the sofa behind her, she watched Gracie stack the folded fliers advertising Jillian’s new catering services into small piles against the wall.
Spot stood nearby, watching closely. Occasionally, his gaze would drift from Gracie, as if following the passage of an unseen person across the room. Jillian frowned at him, then flicked her bare foot in his direction, making him run from the room.
Gracie finished placing the last stack against the wall and straightened. “What if nobody reads these and nobody calls you to order food and stuff?”
Jillian tried to be flip and pretend that she hadn’t asked herself the same question over and over already. “Well, first I’ll have a tantrum and throw things and probably use bad language. Then I’ll make prank calls to everybody on the island, telling them that their refrigerators are running. Then I’ll rob a bank so I won’t need their business, anyway.”
Gracie regarded her solemnly. “Okay. But can I help you with the prank phone calls?”
Jillian nudged her with her bare toe, and they both started laughing. Jillian reached her hand out to tickle Grace. “Come on, Silly Pie. Help me up, and we’ll think of something fun to do. We’ve been working all afternoon, and I think we deserve a break before you tackle your spelling homework.”
Grace grabbed both of Jillian’s hands and let out an exaggerated groan as she hoisted her mother to her knees.
Standing, Jillian asked, “So, what would you like to do?”
Gracie frowned. “Mrs. Michaels said I needed to practice my handwriting. She says she can’t read it. She also wanted to know all about the night that Ford was born and why Linc was here, but I remember hearing Mrs. Weber tell you that even though Mrs. Michaels is a wonderful teacher, she’s also the biggest gossip, so I didn’t say anything.”
Jillian looked at her daughter for a long time, trying to phrase a response that would adequately address all the topics in Grace’s monologue. She finally gave up. “We can practice your handwriting after dinner. Let’s do something fun now.”
Gracie ran to the bookshelf and pulled out a CD case that had been sitting on the portable stereo. “Let’s listen to music. Linc said I could borrow this, and I haven’t listened to it yet.”
“When did he give you that?” Jillian walked over and took the CD.
“A few days ago. He was checking the air in our tires because he said the tires looked low. He had his stereo outside and it was playing, and I liked the music. He said I could borrow it if I’d be careful.”
“I see,” she said, even though she really didn’t. She looked down at the cover. The Tams Greatest Hits. Reluctantly, she smiled. “This is good stuff.”
She walked over to the stereo an
d popped in the CD. “We can’t play it too loudly because Ford is napping.”
After pushing the PLAY button, she moved over to the sofa and sat next to Gracie. As soon as the music started playing, she noticed Grace’s fingers and hands moving to the beat. Then she looked down at their feet, both pairs bare with matching toenail polish, and saw all four moving to the same rhythm. She nudged Grace with her elbow. “Wanna dance?”
Gracie grinned. “Sure!”
They got to their feet. “This is going to be scary, but bear with me. Do you want to be the boy or the girl?”
“I’ll be the girl. You can be the boy.”
“Thanks. OK. Give me your hands. Now you’re a bit shorter than me, so we’ll have to make allowances. Instead of putting your hand on my shoulder, put it on my elbow. That’s right.”
Jillian put her hand on Gracie’s back between the shoulder blades. “Now, if you were taller, I’d put my hand on the small of your back, but we’ll just have to make do. And this hand”—she reached down and grabbed Grace’s—“goes in mine.” She smiled in satisfaction that they had managed to get that far. “Are you ready?”
Gracie grinned up at her. “Yep!”
The opening bars of “Be Young, Be Foolish, Be Happy” began, and for a moment, Jillian could almost feel the sand beneath her feet and the light of a summer moon on her face. Slowly, she began to count out the dance steps from memory for Grace, smiling down at the earnest expression on her daughter’s face.
“Just follow my feet. Everything I do, you do, but backward. Okay. One, two, now step. One, two, and rock back. Now rock forward.” Jillian grinned, ignoring the way her daughter’s feet trampled her own. “See? Isn’t that easy?”
“Are my feet supposed to be on top of yours most of the time?”
Jillian snorted. “Not exactly. I’m afraid you got your dancing talent from me.”
They both laughed and put their feet in the starting position again. Jillian cleared her throat. “Okay. Let’s start again. One, two, now step.” Their knees bumped as they both tried to lead at the same time. They stumbled together but managed to stay upright as they tried to fumble their way through the remaining steps, eventually giving up completely and just bouncing to the rhythm of the music, their hands clasped together, their voices shrieking to the words of the song.
“If Gracie wants to learn how to dance the shag, I think she’d learn faster watching somebody who actually knows what he’s doing.”
They both stopped in midbounce and turned toward the voice. Linc stood in the doorway, a measuring tape and clipboard in one hand and a heart-stopping grin on his face. For a moment, Jillian found it hard to catch her breath, and stood there staring at him.
His thumb indicated the open front door. “I saw you through the screen and knocked, but you couldn’t hear me.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “I thought I’d better intervene now, before Grace’s dancing ability is ruined forever.”
Feeling flustered and not really knowing why, Jillian attempted to smooth her ruffled hair and pull down her old shorts to cover at least a little bit of thigh. She hadn’t seen Linc since they’d argued, and his presence now was doing strange things to her. Maybe it was the memory of Lauren’s box, or maybe it was the fact that she was wearing shorts that were too short and her hair was a mess.
His eyes flickered for a moment over her chest before returning to her face, and she blushed, realizing she wore an old blouse that was stretched way too tight over her lactating breasts.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “We were working, and I wasn’t expecting any company.”
He smirked. “I can see that. You must be exhausted from all that work.”
She smiled back at him. “Oh, not that exhausted. How are you?”
“Good. Busy.” He paused for a moment, looking her up and down again. “You look smaller than when I last saw you.”
“I think you mean ‘less big.’ Amazing what losing eight pounds, nine ounces can do for a girl’s figure.”
His lips twitched. “I was going to measure your kitchen and draw up some plans for your expansion we talked about a while back. I’m still waiting on permits from all the environmental groups for excavating the dune and had a bit of free time, so . . .”
He stopped, and nobody spoke as the Tams sang the first line of “What Kind of Fool Do You Think I Am?” Finally, Jillian said, “Thanks. That would be great. I’m not promising I’ll actually have the work done, but if things go well, I’d like to have an estimate to put in my business plan.”
“Nothing wrong with thinking ahead. You’ll also have to discuss it with the National Trust. I had this house listed on the register before I renovated. It helped me financially, even though they’re pretty tough about what they’ll allow you to do.”
Grace, bored with the conversation, moved between them and chirped, “I want to see Linc do the shag.”
Linc raised his eyebrows. “I can’t shag alone. I need a partner.” He reached his hand out to Grace, but she shook her head.
“No. I want to see you dance the shag with Jilly-bean. Then I can learn how it’s supposed to go.”
Jillian forced a smile, wondering again where the awkwardness between them had come from. “It’ll be just like old times. Except I’m a little heavier now and it might hurt your toes a bit more when I stomp on them.”
Gracie plopped herself on the sofa and crossed her legs, her elbows on her knees as she smiled at them expectantly.
Linc put down his tape and clipboard, then shrugged his shoulders as if it didn’t matter to him. But there was an intensity in his gaze as he approached Jillian with his arms outstretched. “You don’t scare me.” As they had done so many times before, they clasped hands, and then he placed his other hand on the small of her back, moving her closer to him. She stumbled into him and became aware of a slow heat that filled every pore on her skin until she thought she might be having a hot flash. She waved her free hand in front of her face. “Pregnancy hormones,” she said before resting her hand on his shoulder.
This is Linc, she kept reminding herself as she felt his muscles move under her palm and felt his hand on her back through the thin cotton of her blouse.
“Relax,” he said, looking down at her with a flash of amusement in those dark gray eyes. He started moving and she tried to follow his lead, crashing into him as he went forward and she forgot to go backward.
“Sorry,” she said, completely flustered now and not even sure she could remember her own name, much less the steps to the shag. What is wrong with me? She glanced over at Gracie and saw the little girl roll her eyes.
Linc moved her into the starting position again. “Look, you need to relax. And forget about the steps. Just listen to the music and follow my lead.”
The Tams were in the middle of “Untie Me,” one of her favorites, and after a few false starts, she allowed the music to take over. She shifted her hips to the music, feeling Linc’s hand slide across her back, touching bare skin as her blouse rode up. She tried to pretend that it didn’t matter, that she barely noticed it, but she felt the sweat start between her breasts as her body reacted to the heat.
At first, she looked down at their feet, but as her confidence grew she was able to look up into his face, and immediately wished she hadn’t. He was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, smelling of mint and beer. He was watching her the way she remembered he watched Lauren as they danced together, and it made her want to throw back her head and laugh like Lauren had, the sound contagious enough to make others smile.
He shifted her closer and there was barely any space between them, and she realized then why she felt awkward. There was no pregnancy to hide behind, no physical barrier and no maternal image. She was a young girl again, dancing on the beach with bare feet and suntanned legs, and this time she did throw back her head and laugh.
The music ended and they stopped dancing, but he didn’t release her. She didn’t pull away, either. There was somethin
g holding them together, making it impossible for her to step back. His dark eyes seemed almost black to her, his expression indecipherable, and for a long moment she had the strangest thought that he was going to kiss her. And that she wouldn’t mind if he did.
They seemed to remember Grace’s presence at the same moment, because they both turned toward the little girl. And then Jillian heard Ford crying on the baby monitor and felt the letdown of her milk at the same time she saw the growing wet spots on her blouse.
Mortified, she stepped back, almost relieved to find the spell between them broken. She turned away, her back to him. “I’ve got to get the baby. Gracie, stay out of Linc’s way while he measures the kitchen, okay?”
Without waiting for a response, she dashed up the stairs, still feeling the heat of his hand on her back and trying to shake off the overwhelming feeling that there had been a fourth person in the room watching them in the steps to a dance that neither of them had truly forgotten.
CHAPTER 13
LINC STOOD IN THE KITCHEN, FACING THE STAR CHART ON THE WALL, almost mesmerized by the tiny, neat handwriting labeling the constellation of Boötes the Herdesman. NEKKAR, SEGINUS, IZAR, ACTURUS. He said the familiar names in his head, picturing the glowing orange Acturus and remembering how Jillian had once told him it was her favorite star.
He traced his finger around the constellation, noticing the precise placement between the Big and Little Dippers, and imagining Jillian leaning over the chart with pencil and ruler to make sure everything was correct. It was so like her, trying to capture and make sense of something as vast and confusing as the universe. She charted it and studied it, and still found a place to hope for the sight of a new star.
He turned his back on the chart, trying to wipe his mind clean of thoughts of Jillian just as easily. He shouldn’t have danced with her. He shouldn’t have touched her. But once he had, he couldn’t seem to stop. The warmth of her underneath his fingertips and the smell of her so close had made him almost forget who she was. And he’d almost kissed her. There was no doubt in his mind that if they hadn’t been interrupted, he would have pulled her closer in his arms and kissed her. And he could tell by the look in her eyes that she would have let him.