And he sure as hell wasn’t going to talk about his feelings for Amy with his father.
Then why did you hint?
Didn’t.
Did.
Because he was tired of denying what he felt. Pretending had become dishonest.
Man, he hoped she was getting the idea. He hoped even more she wasn’t appalled.
Swearing under his breath, he stowed his phone and started back toward the waiting pair. He was having trouble remembering where they’d left off. What he was thinking was that he missed Amy, all because he’d neither seen her nor called yesterday.
Tonight, he comforted himself. Or maybe sooner, if he got a break.
* * *
AMY WAITED FOR the doorbell. Inside, she was giddy. He called to ask me out. Her. Only her.
Pity, she told herself. Kindness.
But maybe not.
When she heard footsteps behind her, she turned.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to come with us?” she asked, for at least the third time even though Jakob had not included her mother in his invitation and Amy really, really hoped Mom continued to say no.
Her mother had aged these past few days. Fine crinkles in her skin seemed to be deepening into outright wrinkles. She couldn’t be sleeping well. She still held her head high, though, and maintained a brittle composure. “Thank you, but no. Going out seems like too much effort. I’d like to call Ken a little later, too.”
“Okay, Mom.” Amy hadn’t asked how much she’d told her husband about the rape. This wasn’t the time, assuming her mother’s relationship with her husband was any of Amy’s business, anyway.
Not.
“I looked something up today.” Michelle’s lips tightened. “Apparently in Washington State, the statute of limitations has long since expired for the crime of rape.”
Not much could have made Amy forget Jakob’s imminent arrival, but this definitely did. Amy stared at her mother. “It didn’t even occur to me he could still be arrested. Although it should have,” she continued, “given that you preserved DNA evidence.”
“Not intentionally. I really have no idea why I put that pair of underwear in the envelope. They repulsed me so much.”
“If a conviction were still possible, would you seriously consider going to the police?” Amy asked, as she groped to imagine her dignified and very repressed mother starting that kind of public spectacle.
She was slow answering. “I don’t know. It crossed my mind, that’s all.”
“Do you regret not going to the police when it happened?”
“I never even considered doing so.” Her mouth twisted in a painful smile. “That may be the saddest thing of all to say about the episode.” She tilted her head. “It sounds like Jakob is here. Have a good time.”
“Thanks.” Still bemused, she grabbed her wool peacoat and went out the door. She wished she didn’t feel as if she was abandoning her mother.
Jakob had gotten out of his SUV but she met him on the sidewalk. Handsome in a dark blue business suit, he opened the passenger side door for her. “Glad to see you’re so eager.”
“I’m desperate to get out of the house.” Truth. Just not the whole truth. “After I left for college, I never went home for more than a Christmas break. It’s been a long time since we spent any significant amount of time alone together. Ken cuts the tension. These last few days have been difficult.” She reached for the seat belt.
“How could they be anything but, given the circumstances?” Jakob slammed the door then went around and got in behind the wheel. After pulling his own seat belt around himself, he made a sound she couldn’t quite decipher. Exasperation? “I heard from Dad today, midmorning when we both should have been working.” He shook his head. “Did you know he called your mother?”
“Yes. She implied it was my fault.” Amy made a face. “I guess it is my fault.”
“We can just as well blame the earthquake or the fact that some incompetent architect made a mistake figuring out the weight-bearing capability of the foundation for the building at the college.”
His theory cheered her up. “Let’s not forget that Ken was offered the chance to teach abroad for a couple of years, thus leaving Mom’s mail in my hands.”
“Which ensured you saw what your mother put in the time capsule. See? Not your fault. It was meant.”
He was making a joke out of it, but not entirely, she thought. And he was right. If not for the earthquake and the damaged building, the time capsule wouldn’t have been opened for another fifteen-plus years. And if the invitation had come a few months ago, Amy would never even have known her mother had ever attended Wakefield College, far less that she had tried literally to bury all the painful emotions about what happened to her there.
I would also never have known how bitter her feelings were for her own parents. Or that she might, conceivably, be at least a little bit proud of me.
“You’re right.” She smiled at Jakob. “I’m a leaf, sent spinning by a gust of wind.”
He grinned back as the engine roared to life. “That’s the spirit.”
“Why did Dad call my mother?”
“I have no idea.” He accelerated away from the curb. “But here’s what I think. You need a break. Let’s talk about something else.”
Her mind, of course, went completely blank.
He glanced at her and laughed. “You definitely need a break.”
“I guess so. Isn’t it funny? I can go months at a time without giving so much as a passing thought to Mom or Dad. Right now, I’m like a...a teetotaler who is getting drunk and doesn’t understand why the world’s spinning around and her feet don’t want to obey commands.” She loved the concept. “I’m smashed.”
“And tomorrow you’ll have a hangover,” Jakob said drily.
“Right. But if you don’t let me touch a drop tonight, maybe it’ll clear my system.”
He chuckled. “One question before the topic becomes verboten. Do you know when she’s planning to go back?”
“No. I figured this would be a flying visit, but it’s turned into more.” Amy frowned, thinking about it. “She’s working through her own stuff. Maybe she came home only because she needed to, I don’t know, shut me up, but that’s not what’s happening. Do you know what she told me right before I went out the door?” She didn’t wait for his response. “She’d looked into whether it was still possible to file a rape charge against him.”
Jakob only nodded. “I checked right away. You know an irony? I wasn’t thinking and looked up Oregon first. If the rape had happened in this state, given that DNA evidence has become available, he could still be arrested and charged. It would be a ‘he said, she said’ thing, but her diary was pretty powerful. It’s too bad that’s not possible in Washington State.”
“I was surprised she was even thinking about it. Given who he is, can you imagine the uproar? Mom’s so...private.”
“Yeah.” Jakob was quiet for a minute. “Okay,” he said then. “Topic of parents is officially banned.”
The theory was good, but she had an uneasy feeling that was all they really had to talk about. Well, and their own dysfunctional relationship as kids. And how could they talk about that without the subject of parents intruding?
“Work.” Amy was embarrassed to realize she’d said it out loud.
He only laughed again. “We can start there.”
He talked about the outerwear line in the planning stage until they reached the restaurant. “I like Nostrana,” he said, parking a block away, “but I should have asked if you have a preference. I know you haven’t been in town long, and I got the feeling you haven’t eaten out much.”
“I can’t afford to eat out much,” she admitted ruefully.
“Not dating?”
She a
lmost said, What’s that? but restrained herself. “I mostly meet people when I interview them, and it just hasn’t happened.” Sad to say, she hadn’t even been all that interested. Moving to Portland had been a big break for her. She hadn’t missed anything she left behind.
The interior of the restaurant was warm and elegant, mirrors on the walls adding sparkle above wood paneling. Jakob laid a hand on her back as the maître d’ led them between tables to one in a corner that allowed them extra privacy. Not until the waiter called him “Mr. Nilsson” did she realize he must be a regular.
When she asked, he admitted to preferring traditional food, and a somewhat traditional atmosphere. “I’m not big on places built around the chef as artist. I want to eat, I want to talk to my companions, not watch some celebrity chef in action. Just say so if you want sushi or something one of these times, though.”
One of the many things she liked about Jakob, it occurred to Amy, was that he did focus on her when they were together. As they ate their way from primi, amazing onion soup for both of them, to formaggi, a buttery sweet cheese-and-ricotta cheesecake accompanied by espresso, Jakob barely looked away from her. He actually seemed interested in hearing how she got ideas for articles, found appropriate people to interview, made contacts at a wide variety of magazines. They talked about the move away from print publishing and how that would impact her livelihood. He greeted a couple of people who stopped at the table to say hello, but made no effort to expand those conversations. Only with one did he grin suddenly.
“Amy, here’s a guy you should talk to.” He introduced his friend, an architect who regularly donated his services to nonprofits when they reached the point of being able to build. Bryan Engel was currently designing a theater space that would be shared by a couple of organizations working with children.
“I usually try to fly under the radar,” he admitted with a charming smile, “but in this case I wouldn’t mind drawing some publicity for what we’re trying to do.”
He was a good-looking guy, shorter and more wiry than Jakob and dark-haired and dark-eyed. The twinkle in those eyes and the compassion that motivated him to give so much of his time made him appealing. She mentally framed a few photos of him that would certainly help sell the story. He gave her his card and she promised to call once she’d determined what kind of interest local magazines had. The best part was that he also tattled on Jakob, who, it turned out, was heavily involved in providing opportunities for underprivileged youth to spend time in the wilderness—and his company outfitted the kids besides.
When they were alone again, Amy narrowed her eyes at him. “You would make such a great subject. I could use a pseudoynm.”
He only smiled.
“See?” he said, as they walked out. “We made it through four courses without the words Mom or Dad crossing our lips.”
“Maybe because our mouths were fully occupied eating.”
“Maybe.”
She was glad when he cranked up the heat once they were in his Outback.
“You in a hurry to get home?” he asked, looking over his shoulder as he signaled to pull out of the parking place. “You haven’t seen my home turf yet. I can give you a tour.”
Amy ignored the way her heartbeat fluttered despite the casual nature of his invitation. “Sure, that sounds good. Maybe if I stay out long enough, Mom will already have gone to bed by the time I get home.”
Jakob laughed. “I have to admit, I was really glad Dad could only stay the one night. Not that I don’t love him.”
“I’m not even sure I...” Amy caught herself. “Oh, God. What am I saying? Of course I love my mother even if there have been stretches in my life when I didn’t want to. And here we are, violating our agreement.”
“You said Mom first.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure, blame me.”
The childish exchange settled something in her. Inviting her to his place was friendly, that’s all. Both of them were quieter than usual during the drive, though. Dumb to be nervous, but she was. She had no idea why he’d suddenly clammed up. It might have nothing to do with her, Amy told herself. He might have started brooding about those zip-off sleeves that converted a jacket to vest. Who knew? Given the length of the silence, she convinced herself to think about the architect, whose smile had seemed more than friendly. She tried to figure out why she wasn’t more interested. He was her usual type of guy, smart, involved in the world around him, not seeming too full of himself.
The answer was within touching distance. Bryan Engel had been standing next to Jakob, who had spent the previous hour flattering her with the intensity of his complete attention. And compared to Jakob...well, there was no comparison.
On a surge of panic, she knew she should start seeing some other guy.
“Your friend, Bryan Engel,” she said quickly, before she could change her mind. “Do you think he meant it when he said he’d be willing to talk to me?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Is he a nice guy?”
It took him a minute to answer. “Warning here—he’s coming off a divorce.” Jakob’s voice was too deliberately neutral.
“And this has something to do with me doing an article about him?”
“He won’t be able to track you down, but I’m betting he asks you out the minute you call him.”
“I was with you. Won’t he assume...?” She immediately felt foolish. “Oh. You did introduce me. He knows we’re related.”
Jakob shot a glance at her. “I may have told him I have a sister.”
Deflated, she realized he was being protective. And to think she’d always wanted him to be her brother. Went to show you should be careful what you wished for.
“Are all men who just went through a divorce dangerous?” She had to say something.
“They tend to want to live wild for a while.”
He braked, touched a remote control she hadn’t noticed and turned into a parking garage as the iron gate rolled up.
It would be a mistake to ask, she knew it would. “You, too?” came out of her mouth, anyway.
The garage was well lit enough for her to see his face. “Yeah, I think I did. I was pissed at the world and feeling anticommitment. Maybe a little angry at women in general, too.” His voice was harsh. “Is that what you want?”
“I’ve never been sure I was meant for commitment, anyway. I don’t know anything about the happy family thing.”
He steered into a parking slot, set the emergency brake and killed the engine before he turned to look at her. “Does it change anything now that you know what was going on with your mother?” He sounded gentler now.
That allowed her to focus fiercely on his question.
“I still don’t know if she couldn’t love me because of how I was conceived, or whether she was so screwed up by her parents she wouldn’t have done any better no matter what. I don’t hate her, the way she did them, but I don’t really know how a loving parent acts, either.” It all poured out of her, this fear she’d held all her life. “Which sort of makes me think all I’d do is screw up another generation if I had kids.”
“I don’t buy that.” Abruptly, he was mad. “At least until the divorce, Dad loved you completely.”
“And then he ditched me!” she yelled.
Jakob reached for her. Shocked by her sudden turmoil, Amy shrank away from him.
He went very still. For a long moment, they only looked at each other. There were lines in his forehead she’d never seen before. Then, with a nod, he sat back in his seat. It was a minute before he spoke.
“He didn’t ditch you. He drew back a little.”
“I know that,” she said tightly.
“But when you were six years old, that’s not how it felt.”
“No.” She should have asked him to take her home. They’d had
fun and should have ended the evening on a better note. She didn’t want to talk about how she felt anymore. She was all grown up, and it was past time to get over the “poor me” syndrome. “Can we quit talking about this?” she begged.
“Yeah. Can I say one thing first?”
“Can I stop you?”
He smiled, just a little. “Probably not.”
“Then get it over with.”
“I think you’d be a great mother. After your own childhood, once you commit, you’ll be in it one hundred percent. Unshakable. And I’ve said this before. You’re nothing like Michelle. She’s icy, you’re fiery. A little shy, too, which is an intriguing combination. You’d listen to your kids, really listen. Defend them, and make sure they never had a moment’s doubt about how much their mom loves them.”
Amy was left speechless, shaken by the certainty in his voice. He really did believe what he’d said.
He smiled again then reached over and unfastened her seat belt. “Okay, I’m done. Let’s go upstairs and I’ll show off my view.”
She gave herself a little shake but failed to restore her sense of reality. “Um...sure.”
Fine. Great. She could admire his view, make conversation, pretend she wasn’t having an out-of-body experience for reasons she didn’t even understand. And so help her, she would not say one more word about her mother, her father, her other father, not tonight.
They rode the elevator up in silence.
His was one of only two condos on the top floor. When he ushered Amy in, her heart sank a little because his place was so exactly what she’d expected, and because she loved it. The last thing she needed was another reason to like him.
Walls were either exposed brick or plastered in a thick texture and painted a creamy white. What must be original floorboards, wide and scarred, were now finished to a gleaming, warm chestnut color, the wear and tear part of the beauty. Artisan-made wood tables and bookcases accompanied a leather sofa and a couple of chairs upholstered in rich colors. A huge photograph of Mt. Hood reflected in a lake hung over the sofa; other photos were smaller and mostly caught the details nature did so exquisitely, like a few raindrops glistening on a newly unfurled fern frond. Overhead, ancient cracked beams were exposed along with the vaulted ceiling above. Kitchen and dining areas were part of the great room; only what was presumably bedroom and bathroom were partially walled off.
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