He ignored the question, and the turmoil on her face. “You expected more from him than from yourself. You told him something so huge, and expected him to deal with it instantly. He was only a kid. Couldn’t you have given him more time to get his head around it?”
“I was only a kid too.” She stood up. “He was the first guy I ever slept with, and suddenly I had a baby to think about. And then, right when I was trying to get my head around that, without him, I had a miscarriage. Can you imagine what that was like?”
“No. But at least you’re still alive to tell the tale.”
She visibly drew herself together, and steel came into her demeanor.
“I am.”
Even as he realized that he’d done what he set out to do—brought down a wall between them, severing any chance of finding comfort in their shared past—an unexpected regret washed over him.
She regarded him for a moment, composed again. “I’ll see myself out.” But after a few steps, she turned around. “Think whatever you like about me, but I am sorry about Ethan. I’m sorry for your loss.” She paused. “And I’m sorry you blame me.”
When he didn’t say anything, she turned her back and left the room. He heard the front door open, then close quietly behind her. In the silence left behind, he wondered if this was what closure felt like.
Chapter Ten
Gritting her teeth, Jacinda walked the short distance back to number ten, her emotions smoldering hotter than her sunburn. She’d gone to see him with the best intentions, and for a moment there, she’d been willing to lay it on the line, tell him her truth and listen to what he told her in return. But he soon cured her of that. What an ass. A self-righteous, shirtless, self-absorbed…
But her indignation couldn’t sustain itself. His words had hit home, and there was only one person she wanted to talk to now. Upstairs, she found her phone, and hit Hannah’s name.
“Hey, runaway.” Her friend’s voice was a ray of sunshine cutting into her overcast mood. “Tell me I guessed right.”
“Hey,” Jacinda said, remembering the New Zealand flag in Hannah’s last text. “Yeah, you were right.”
“I knew it. So, what’s happening in paradise?”
She flopped down on the bed, wincing as her sunburned skin hit the quilted bedcover. “It’s less, um…paradisiacal than I’d hoped.”
“Oh, no. What’s happened? Did someone track you down already? No one here has questioned it yet—I just keep saying you’re taking a short break.”
“Thanks. No, no one has tracked me down. It’s more that someone was here already.”
“Who?”
“Liam Ward.”
“Wait…Ethan’s brother?”
Hannah was the only person who knew the whole story. Not just the facts of what had happened, but how it had really been for Jacinda, here in Sweet Breeze Bay, and when she got home and had to face the music.
“Yeah. He’s staying at their house, next door.”
She didn’t mention anything about the perpetually shirtless state he seemed to be in, or the unexpectedly distracting effect that had on her. It was so many kinds of wrong to even notice his broad chest, sculpted shoulders, and well-formed biceps, one of which was inked with the sweeping curves of a Pacific-style tattoo. So, so wrong. Okay, little brothers grew up…but that didn’t mean this one was a suitable candidate for her attention. Not that he showed any sign of interest in her—only anger and resentment. “We kind of had a confrontation.”
“A confrontation? But wait, go back a step. I thought they were in Australia.”
“He was, but now he’s here. And I can’t spend the summer with him right next door glowering every time he sees me, making me feel guilty about everything.”
As she said it, she realized just how guilty she was really feeling. Admit it—what riled her more than anything was the fact that Liam was right. She’d expected Ethan to rise to the occasion, tell her everything would be fine, and make everything okay, when she was incapable of doing that herself. Most likely it would have turned out all right—girls have babies every day, and it wasn’t like she’d been completely alone in the world. But at that point, it felt like total disaster…and it probably had to Ethan, too.
But Hannah was staunchly on her side.
“Why should you feel guilty? Ethan was the one who let you down. If anything, you let him off the hook.”
“Maybe…”
The silence that followed was loaded, and Hannah knew her well enough to guess that something was up.
“What? What is it?”
Her voice came out in a whisper, as if saying it aloud would drive the truth even farther home. “He’s dead, Han. He died right after I left.”
There was a strangled gasp at the end of the line as Hannah registered what she was saying. Then she came right out with the question that had been tormenting Jacinda.
“Oh my God. Did he kill himself?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so…” It sounded more like a question than a statement. The idea was unthinkable.
But Hannah had regrouped. “No, I’m sure he didn’t. He had everything going for him. Even if there’d been a baby, you guys would have worked it out somehow.”
If there’d been a baby. “He never knew I’d lost it. He thought I flew back to the States pregnant.”
“Well, if he didn’t want it, then what was the problem anyway?”
“I guess…” She knew it was more complicated than that, but she had no clue what could have been in his mind, or what he would have said if he’d come to see her before she left. “I can’t believe Nana Mac never told me.”
“She was probably trying to protect you. And your mom. I’m really sorry, Cin. You must be heartsick.”
“I feel like I’ve been knocked sideways.” She paused. “But I have no right to be.”
“Yes, you do. It was huge. And it was the thing that finished everything with your dad.”
“Yeah, well…” That was a topic for another day. “Probably better that way, in the end.”
“Maybe. But listen, don’t let him drive you away from there. You need this break, and it’s the only time you’re going to get. When you come home, we’ll have you working your butt off. You still have a tour to do, you know.”
“I do? Even after I kneed Greg in the…ego?”
She laughed. “Todd told me. Only you, Cin. But all is not lost. Todd’s still negotiating, and he’s aiming for a ten-city tour at least.”
“Shit.”
“Aren’t you happy about it?”
She looked down the length of her legs to her blue-painted toenails, incongruous against the sweet floral bedcover. “Sorry, I am happy. Of course. I just wonder whose terms it’ll be on.”
“We’ll iron out the details. It’ll be fine. No, it’ll be more than fine—it’ll be amazing.”
From this distance, she had to remind herself: it was what she’d always wanted. A springboard to the next level, that they’d all been working for. She had doubts, but she’d have to find a way to deal with them…and with Greg and co.
“Okay. Thanks. And tell your no-good husband thanks too.”
“You’re welcome. You’ll have to talk to him yourself soon, though—I can hold off the Lainey Kingsleys of the world, but I can’t hold your manager off indefinitely.”
“I know. He’s pretty determined.” She avoided thinking of the ways in which she’d held Todd off herself, until Hannah had come on the scene.
Now her friend’s voice took on a sadder tone.
“He’s away again, checking out some new talent in Austin, he said. He’ll be back in a few days though, hopefully.”
Jacinda hated to hear her sounding so downcast. “Okay, I’ll talk to him then.”
“Good. You know, now that you guys have both abandoned me, I’ve been training every day.”
Hannah had ruled the pool in high school, but given it up, discouraged, when she didn’t get a swim scholarship for college. Late
ly, though, she’d been swimming more again, and even got herself a coach, who was encouraging her to compete.
“That’s great! You should enter that swim contest, your times have been so good.”
But she made a pfft sound. “I’m too old for that.”
“Like I’m too old for the music biz?”
There was a pause at Hannah’s end. “Okay, I hear you. I’ll think about it.”
“Good. And take care of yourself.”
“I will. Oh, have you got any kittens to snuggle with yet?”
She eyed the empty end of the bed. “No, and I can’t find Velvet. I’m starting to get worried.”
“Don’t cats go off and find a secret place to have their kittens? Maybe she’s made a baby nest somewhere.”
Jacinda thought of the expensive faux-suede cat bed in the living room, unused. “Oh no. I’d better look harder for her.”
“She’ll be fine, I bet. Cats have been doing it by themselves forever.”
“Not this cat. Nana Mac will be beside herself if Velvet doesn’t give birth in luxury. She adores her.”
Hannah laughed. “Okay, do what you gotta do. Love you. And I am really sorry about Ethan. But don’t let Liam get under your skin.”
Jacinda remembered the way the hairs on her arm had practically stood on end as she walked past him into the house, the warmth of his slightly damp skin just a whisper away.
“I won’t.”
No way would she let that happen. Hannah didn’t mean that kind of under her skin, but her badly-behaved body was threatening to take it in exactly that direction—and that would only be one more way to complicate an already complicated situation. One more way for him to think badly of her. She wasn’t about to let some inappropriate thoughts—unrequited inappropriate thoughts—make a bad situation worse. She put him out of her mind, said goodbye to Hannah, and went to look for Velvet.
Chapter Eleven
Even in Nana Mac’s rambling house, full of nooks and crannies, there were only so many places to look for a small black cat.
Jacinda had gone into every room, peered into every closet, cupboard, and corner, and called “puss, puss, puss” until her tongue was tied. Every now and then she stopped and listened, tipping her head and holding her breath, in case she could hear an answering meow, or the sound of tiny mewling kittens. But there was no sign of Velvet anywhere in the house.
Next stop, the yard. She did a circuit of the perimeter, looking under the neatly clipped hedge that ran around the boundary. Then she checked in the garden shed, and carefully got down and looked under the deck. Nothing. There was no basement under the house, but there was a big enough space in the foundations, between the bare dirt of the ground and the wooden floorboards, for a grown person to crawl. Not that she was going in there, amongst the spiders and bugs and God only knew what else. She went back into the house and found a torch in the kitchen, then shone it into the gloom, calling again for Velvet. But there was no flash of iridescent eyes reflecting the torch beam in the dark, no answering chirrup. She sighed and closed the creaky access door, then stood up, brushing dirt and grass from her knees. Where could she be?
Her eyes were drawn over the hedge to the Ward house, at number twelve. It would be just her luck. First, though, she’d rule out the other most likely possibility.
The woman who opened the door at number eight looked frazzled, with a preschooler hanging onto her leg and a baby on her hip. But when Jacinda introduced herself, and said why she’d come, her face brightened.
“Oh, of course, Nana Mac said you’d be house-sitting, and Velvet-sitting. We were feeding her until you arrived. I’m Nadia. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.” And it was. At least she had a nice neighbor on one side.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t seen Velvet around our place. She used to come visiting sometimes, but since Izzy and Oliver came along it’s been a bit hectic for her, I think.”
Izzy, dressed in a pink tutu, a Peppa Pig pajama top, and red gumboots, tugged at her mother’s shirt. “I want to see the pussy cat.”
“Me too,” Jacinda said to her.
At this, Izzy hid behind Nadia’s leg, but peeped out with a little smile. “I like Velvet.”
“Yes, well, I’m sure she likes you too, Izz.” Out of Izzy’s sight, Nadia rolled her eyes and grinned at Jacinda. “Izzy is a very…enthusiastic animal person. Very hands-on, if you know what I mean.”
Jacinda laughed. “I see. Well, thank you.” Baby Oliver started to cry as Izzy decided to force a small plastic teapot onto his foot. “I’ll leave you to it, but it’d be great to know if you do see Velvet.”
“We’ll definitely let you know.” Nadia jigged Oliver on her hip, unfazed by his escalating volume. “And come any time for a cuppa. My other half goes away all the time for work, so it’s nice to have adult company. Not that our company is much of a drawcard.”
She pulled the teapot off Oliver’s foot and threw it into the corner, where it joined what looked like the aftermath of a toy tsunami.
“No, that’d be great, thank you.” Jacinda smiled at Izzy. “Maybe you could make me a cup of tea then?”
Izzy’s face lit up. “Okay! I make decaf soy lattes too,” she said proudly.
“That’s very sophisticated,” Jacinda said.
Nadia smiled. “I’m dairy-free at the moment, because of this guy’s delicate system, so our tea parties are a bit alternative these days, aren’t they Izz?” She switched Oliver to her other hip and his cry settled to a grizzle. “Dairy-free, caffeine-free, Indian-food-free, alcohol-free…fun-free. The joys of motherhood.”
Jacinda had no idea about that, but the kids looked sweet to her. “It must be worth it though—they’re lovely.”
Nadia looked pleased and proud. “Thank you. They are. It’s easy to forget sometimes.”
There was a pause while Jacinda pushed memories back into the depths of her mind.
“Well, I’d better go and hunt for these kittens,” she said. “It was great to meet you.”
“And you. Good luck.”
“Bye,” Izzy said, bold now. “Byeeee!”
Jacinda returned her continuous wave all the way down the path, only stopping when she went around the corner of the fence onto the sidewalk. Then she sighed. So cute. Countless times over the years, she’d wondered whether her baby would have been a boy or a girl. By now, he or she would be in middle school. The ghost of that little person who never was still hovered near, drawing closer in unguarded moments, keeping company with the Jacinda she left behind.
Anyway. Cin Scott was too busy for babies. There never would have been a Cin Scott, if Jacinda’s baby had been born. One birth in place of another. Sometimes, she still woke in the night from a surreal dream, in which she traded Cin and her success for the baby, a deal not with the devil, but with the fates. In the dark, half waking, she felt the bargain slip from reach every time.
But in the light of day, she held tight to practicalities. This way, she was free, and her mom was free. Still troubled, and managing her depression and anxiety as well as she could, but free from having to rely on the vagaries of Doug Prescott’s moods and finances. On top of that, Cin Scott was proof that Jacinda refused to be diminished by her father’s opinions.
By the time she hit puberty—agonizingly early, compared to most of the girls she knew—he’d officially left them. He’d swing back into their lives from whatever rally team he was with at the time, full of loaded comments and back-handed compliments, and make her head spin with uncertainty. Once, she’d been his princess. But when she started to become a woman—a curvy reflection of her mother, her body years ahead of her emotions—he must have felt her starting to grow away from him.
His strategy was a combination of pressure to be amazing, disparagement for what she did achieve, and criticism for the God-given attributes he admired in every pretty girl who passed him on the street (breasts, hair, general womanliness). His attitude—when he graced them w
ith his presence—implied that she specifically looked the way she did in order to have men look at her, and aggravate her father. But she would much rather have been without the burden of those breasts, and the unwanted attention they drew.
And when she returned devastated from Sweet Breeze Bay that summer, and he found out about her pregnancy, he was derisive: there, for him, was evidence that he was right all along. Anyone who looked like her was good for only one thing.
At that point, she could so easily have slipped into the same downward spiral that had claimed her mom.
But some small part of her knew better. From that lowest low point, she had something to raise her up again. A branch to grab onto, and pull herself out of the quicksand. Her musical skills were her escape—which was exactly why she refused to be defined by her body now. She was more than the curvy figure and striking cleavage that drew attention she hadn’t known how to handle. Todd and Greg and whoever else could push her to sex up her act, but she wasn’t going there. She’d walk away before she capitulated to that. The truth was, sometimes the American dream looked better from the outside.
She stopped halfway up the path to number ten, struck by her train of thought. Would she really give it up? Maybe music was her oxygen, but there was more than one way to pursue it. She’d only been out of the industry whirlwind for a few days, but it was already starting to seem unreal. Right then, she remembered the strength it had taken to get where she was so far, and the strength it had taken to stand up for what she believed in and step away, even temporarily.
She looked toward the Ward house. She wasn’t going to hide from him.
She went back down the path, and along to number twelve. It looked completely closed up, even on this hot day. He must’ve gone out after their conversation. She hesitated, then peered down the side of the house. About three-quarters of the way along, it looked like there was a door in the vertical wooden sidings that skirted the base of the house. It was open just a crack, but wide enough to let a cat through.
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