To a Macallister Born

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  Joey would attend a day-care center adjacent to his school after kindergarten was dismissed, a fact Joey was reserving judgment on until he—to quote—checked it out for fun stuff to do.

  As Jennifer seated the breakfast patrons, she made a silent wish that this Monday would be one of the days Andrea, Brandon and the aunts would decide to eat in their own apartments upstairs in the hotel.

  She did not want to explain to the observant quartet why she had purple smudges beneath her eyes from lack of sleep. She was also certain that her plastic-feeling smile would not fool the caring foursome.

  Jennifer sighed, acutely aware of her bone-deep fatigue. She’d tossed and turned the night Jack announced he was going to Phoenix. And she’d tossed and turned every night since, her sleep coming in short doses that produced muddled, yet definitely disturbing, dreams.

  Jennifer frowned and stared into space, recalling how happy she had been as the Thanksgiving festivities began, and how miserable she’d been by the time the special day was over.

  This was a practice run, she supposed, for when Jack packed up his vehicle and headed for California in just a few weeks. And, oh, mercy, it was awful, just terrible, and lonely beyond belief.

  Well, no, she reasoned in the next instant, this was different than that final leaving would be. Jack’s sudden decision to go to Phoenix had not been on the schedule.

  There was something troubling Jack, and she’d made no attempt to communicate with him, to discover what was causing his turmoil, due to her fears that he might demand similar answers from her.

  Jack’s exodus to the valley with so much left unsaid between them was admittedly as much her fault as his.

  She was once again being pulled back into the painful memories of the past, nearly numb with the fear that Jack would somehow hurt her, shatter her, with what he refused to share. She was losing her trust and belief in him, those newly found emotions slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.

  Jennifer smiled automatically as a couple entered the dining room and made the appropriate, pleasant remarks as she led them to their table and handed them their menus. When she returned to the podium, she narrowed her eyes and stared into space again.

  No, by golly, she was not going to step backward into the dark world where she’d existed with Joe Mackane. She’d moved into the sunshine with Jack MacAllister and was stronger for it, free of the hideous ghosts of lies and betrayal. She would not be beaten by old fears.

  If Jack contacted her upon his return from Phoenix—oh, please, let Jack contact her when he got back to Prescott—she was going to sit him down and talk to him, for heaven’s sake. If she truly believed in him, trusted him, then it was time to prove it—not only to him, but to herself as well.

  That baring of her soul wouldn’t change the outcome of her relationship with Jack. She knew that. He would still leave Prescott before Christmas. All that they’d shared would be over, forever. She was prepared to deal with that.

  But she would handle it as a woman changed, as one who had grown, become stronger, had reached into the dark shadows of her past and retrieved the very essence of who she was to be complete now, whole.

  But she couldn’t say that final goodbye to Jack with dignity and grace if she didn’t step up and square off against whatever it was that was now taking place. Whatever was wrong with Jack—and, therefore, with them—had to be addressed.

  It had to be done in order for her to be who she wished to be. Free of the horror of the past. A woman of strength, courage and purpose. A woman who would cry when Jack left, but one who would have the fortitude to dry those tears and move forward with her life.

  “Hi, Jennifer.”

  Jennifer jerked at the sound of a woman’s voice. “Hello, Deborah,” Jennifer said, smiling. “I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you?”

  “Busy,” Deborah said. “I’m meeting some clients who are staying here at Hamilton House. We’re having breakfast, then I’m going to show them some houses. They’re ready to retire and have decided that Prescott is the place to settle and enjoy.”

  Jennifer glanced at the reservation book. “Yes, here you are. A table for three. Do you want to wait here for your people, or be seated now?”

  “I’ll sit and have some coffee,” Deborah said. “I’m facing a lot of hours on my feet today. I wish I still had the energy I did when you and I were in high school together. Anyway, my clients are the Reynolds. You can send them in my direction when they arrive.”

  “Very good.”

  Jennifer led Deborah to a table, gave her a menu, and placed two more on the table for the expected couple. “Enjoy your breakfast,” Jennifer said, then started away.

  She stopped, took a deep breath and returned to stand next to Deborah. “I want to sell my house and I’d like you to have the listing.”

  Deborah’s eyes widened. “You want to sell—You’re kidding. You grew up in that house. I can still recall the hours we spent together in your nifty room on the top floor when we were in high school. Remember how we pretended we were in our own apartment in whatever exciting city struck our fancy that day?”

  “Yes, I remember,” Jennifer said, “but the house is too big for me and Joey, and is impossible to maintain. Thanks to a—a friend, everything is repaired right now, spruced up. This is the time to sell…It was my folks’ idea and…well, I’m going to do it. I want a nice-size town house with a backyard big enough for Joey’s swing set. I hope you can find us something.”

  “Well, I’m definitely surprised,” Deborah said, “but thrilled to have the listing. I shouldn’t have any trouble selling a beautiful historic home like yours. I’ll call you to set up a time when I can come by and do a walk-through and settle on an asking price. Okay?”

  “Fine,” Jennifer said. “Thanks.”

  “Thank you,” Deborah said, smiling. “You made my day. I’m a happy Realtor.”

  And she, Jennifer thought, walking away, was as stunned as Deborah. During the long days and nights since Thanksgiving dinner, her subconscious must have been busily dwelling on her parents’ suggestion that the family home be sold. She’d been so centered on Jack, she’d had no idea that part of her was working through the question of whether or not to sell the house.

  Well, fine. So be it. Being involved in a muddled mess of a relationship was good for something other than sleepless nights. She would have driven herself crazy wondering what to do about her home, but had now discovered she’d made the decision already. She’d just opened her mouth and told Deborah to put the house on the market.

  And it felt right. It truly did. It was one more step forward, instead of lingering in the past.

  Oh, yes, indeed, she was changing and growing, gaining an inner strength she had no idea she possessed.

  And when—well, if Jack MacAllister showed up on her doorstep after driving back up the mountain, they were going to talk, by golly, openly and honestly, even if she had to bar the door and keep him in her living room until she’d had her say.

  Jennifer nodded decisively, and when the next people entered the dining room, her smile was genuine.

  The evening Jack returned to Prescott, he stood across the street from Jennifer’s, one shoulder propped against a large tree as he stared at the house.

  He’d managed to avoid seeing Andrea, Brandon and the aunts when he’d returned to Hamilton House, thank goodness.

  A quick glance into the dining room, then some idle chitchat with the guy on duty at the registration desk gained him the information that Jennifer was working days and had left the hotel at four o’clock.

  So here he was, skulking in the shadows. Any second now, he thought, the cops were going to arrive, blue lights flashing, sirens wailing, after receiving a report of a suspicious-looking man who was hugging a tree.

  Jack glanced again at his watch, which he could see clearly in the glow of the street lamp. Five more minutes, he decided. It had been ten minutes since the light in the bedroom he knew to be Joey
’s had been extinguished. He was waiting to be certain the little boy was sound asleep before he knocked on Jennifer’s door.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Joey, because he did, he really did, but this wasn’t the time for a fun romp with Joey—not by a long shot.

  Jack dragged both hands down his face and sighed wearily. Man, he was beat. Hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since before Thanksgiving. In the hotel room in Phoenix, he’d done more pacing and thinking than sleeping, and when he had managed to doze off, it had been a restless slumber.

  Enough was enough, he’d finally concluded. He couldn’t go on like this. The time had come to have a serious discussion with Jennifer, to sit her down, to tell her that he was in love with her.

  It wouldn’t be what she wanted to hear, that was for damn sure, but he was going to unburden his beleaguered brain, be certain that she listened, even if he had to block the doors of the house with furniture.

  It could very well be that Jennifer would tell him to take a hike, to hit the road, to get out of her life. His declaration of love might rob him of the remaining weeks left to be with her.

  But that was a risk he was going to have to take because the jumble of emotions within him was more than he could handle.

  And the fact that he wanted to be Jennifer’s groom guy and Joey’s Daddy Bear? A husband and father? Every time he focused on that realization, his mind just stopped. That was due, he knew, to the cold-fist-in-his-gut feeling that he’d never get that far in baring his soul to Jennifer.

  He’d broken the rules of their no-strings, no-commitment relationship. Man, had he ever. Jennifer liked the agreed-upon status quo, the end of which would be a breezy “See ya, Jack” as he set off for California.

  Oh, yeah, he was about to burst Jennifer’s blissful bubble, gum up the works big time. Jennifer wanted no part of a forever with him because…

  Jack frowned and straightened from his slouching pose against the tree.

  …Because Jennifer Mackane had secrets from her past that were dictating her present, and robbing her of a future.

  And she didn’t trust and believe in him enough to share those secrets with him. That hurt. That really ripped him up.

  He’d overcome his own self-doubts about his ability to really trust Jennifer, to be certain she didn’t have a hidden agenda, but she hadn’t returned in kind that kind of heartfelt, emotional trust. Damn.

  Jack looked at his watch again, then drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Okay, MacAllister,” he said aloud. “This is it. Get geared up to be sent packing.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  When the knock on the front door reverberated through the living room, Jennifer jumped to her feet, then sat down abruptly as a wave of dizziness assaulted her. She blinked, placed one hand on her racing heart, then rose again slowly.

  Jack was here, she thought, walking toward the door. She knew, just somehow knew, that he was standing on her front porch. So, okay, fine. This was it. Truth time.

  “I’m not home,” she said under her breath. “Oh, Jennifer, get a grip. You can do this. You have to do this.”

  She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders and opened the door.

  “Hello, Jennifer,” Jack said quietly.

  Jennifer drank in the very sight of him. She’d missed him so much, she wanted to fling herself into his arms and—

  “Jennifer?”

  “Oh! Yes, hello, Jack,” she said, stepping backward. “Come in.”

  Jack moved past her, took off his jacket and dropped it onto a chair, then went to stand in front of the fire, where he rubbed his hands together.

  Jennifer stared at him, then jerked herself back to attention and closed the door. She returned to her spot on the sofa, acutely aware that her legs were trembling and her heart was racing.

  Jack turned from the fire and met her gaze. “How are you, Jennifer?” he said. “And Joey? How’s Joey?”

  “We’re both fine. Did you enjoy your trip down to Phoenix?”

  “No.”

  “You didn’t?” Jennifer said, frowning. “Then why did you stay away so long?” She paused and shook her head. “Oh, listen to me. I might as well come right out and say that I missed you. I did…miss you.”

  “I missed you, too.” Jack stared at the ceiling for a long moment, then looked at Jennifer again. “What I’d like to do is take you in my arms and kiss you until we can’t breathe. Then? Then we’d make love for hours, not talking, definitely not talking—just…just feeling.”

  Go for it, MacAllister, Jennifer thought giddily, as a frisson of heat whispered through her.

  “But I can’t do that, Jennifer, because we have to talk. There are things that need discussing, can no longer be ignored.”

  “I know,” she said quietly, clutching her hands in her lap.

  “We made a pact of sorts,” Jack went on, “that contained the ground rules of our relationship. We had an understanding that no one could get hurt because we both knew the facts, acknowledged that all this was temporary.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, Jennifer, I broke the rules, and I can’t go on with everything bottled up inside of me. It’s driving me nuts. I have to be honest with you, tell you the truth, knowing full well that by doing so you might choose to end things between us right now.”

  “I…I don’t understand, Jack. I mean, I broke the rules, too, but I don’t for one minute believe that you broke the same rules that I broke and—Oh, I’m not making any sense.”

  “What rules did you break?” Jack said, frowning.

  “What rules did you break?” she said, matching his expression.

  “Hell, this isn’t getting us anywhere,” he said, his voice rising.

  “Shh. You’ll wake up Joey, and this is obviously an adult conversation.”

  “No joke.” Jack shook his head. “Whew. This is rough going. Okay. Jennifer, I’ve been hurt in the past, disillusioned time after time because of my choices in relationships, because of the women I trusted and believed in. I was wrong, duped, every damn time. They all had hidden agendas, something they wanted from me…materialistically, socially, whatever. None of them were real. None of them were who they presented themselves to be. Never again, I vowed. Never, never again.

  “Then I met you. I waited, watched, listened for your…your program, for what you were really after by agreeing to engage in a relationship with me.”

  “But I—”

  “Please.” Jack raised one hand. “This is difficult enough. Let me finish.”

  Jennifer nodded, her eyes holding Jack’s.

  “As each day…and night…went by,” he continued, “I began to realize that you didn’t have a secret agenda. You are real. You are honest. You are who you present yourself to be.”

  “Yes. Yes, I am, but you sound angry about it. This is very confusing, Jack.”

  “You think you’re confused? I’m eligible for Olympic Gold in that category,” he said, splaying one hand on his chest. “Why? Because you made me break my promise to myself, forget the past and what I’d supposedly learned from it. Because you…because you’re you and…Damn it, Jennifer, I fell in love with you!”

  “You did? Oh, you did not.” Jennifer’s eyes widened. “You did?”

  “I did. I am.” Jack dragged a hand through his hair. “In love. With you. That’s the part of the rules I broke.” He paused. “Ah, hell, what a mess. If you want to end things between us right here, right now, I’ll understand because—”

  “No,” she said, her voice unsteady. “This all terrifies me at the same time that it makes me happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. I intended to tell you how I felt if you came to me when you returned from Phoenix. I was so afraid you’d leave for California sooner than planned, but I knew I had to tell you. I’m falling in love with you, too.”

  “I—”

  “It doesn’t mean that I think we have a future together, or anything like that,” Jennifer rushed on. “But
I couldn’t keep silent any longer because I wouldn’t be true to myself if I did. I—”

  “Wait a minute,” Jack said, slicing one hand through the air. “Wait just a damn minute here. You’re saying that you’re falling in love with me?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “On the surface, that sounds like two pieces of a puzzle fitting together, doesn’t it? But there’s a helluva big piece missing.”

  “There is? What piece is missing? You’re confusing me again, Jack.”

  “Trust and belief, Jennifer. Your trust and belief in me is not in this picture. I’ve told you about my past, about why I was determined not to become seriously involved with a woman again. I spelled it all out for you. But you? You have secrets, Jennifer. There is something about your marriage to Joe Mackane that made you vow never to love again, never to remarry. There’s a whole section of yourself that you won’t allow me to touch, share.

  “You say that you’re falling in love with me,” he continued, “but how can that be true when you don’t trust and believe in me enough to tell me what happened between you and Joey’s father? Maybe you had the greatest marriage imaginable and couldn’t fathom being able to come close to that kind of perfection again, so you didn’t intend to even try. But I don’t think that’s the case—not even close. Tell me, Jennifer. Tell me about your existence with Joe Mackane.”

  Jennifer nervously crossed her arms and held her elbows for a moment, then dropped her hands to her lap again. “No.”

  Jack sat down next to her, shifting so he could lay one arm across the top of the sofa behind her. He covered her hands with his other hand, and she turned her head to meet his gaze.

  “Ah, Jennifer, don’t you see?” he said. “Your past is standing between us like a solid wall. We can’t acknowledge, can’t…embrace the fact that we’re meant to be together, let alone gather the courage to think about what the future might hold…Talk to me. Share with me. Trust and believe in me the way I do you.”

  “Are you testing me?” Jennifer said with a sudden flash of anger. “Is this one of those ‘If you really love me, you’ll do this’ things?”