by Irene Hannon
And so, from popular Acadia National Park to remote Schoodic Point, their love blossomed once again on the splendor of the Maine coast. The twins regularly demanded progress reports, and though Maggie tried to play it low-key, even she could hear the joyful lilt in her voice every time she mentioned Jake. The girls, of course, were delighted—but no less so than Maggie. She’d been so afraid that her fragile bubble of happiness would burst, that one day she’d wake up to find herself once more alone. Yet her fears seemed groundless. Each moment she spent with Jake was more perfect than the last.
In fact, everything seemed almost too perfect. And life was far from perfect, as she well knew. Yet her hours with Jake disputed that reality. Each time he protectively enfolded her fingers in his strong, bronzed hand; each time his warm, brown eyes smiled down into hers; each time he held her in his arms and tenderly claimed her lips, Maggie felt a renewal, a rebirth, a reawakening. Joy and hope filled her heart as the love she’d kept locked away for so long gradually began to find release. For Maggie, who had long ago ruthlessly stifled romantic fantasies and the notion of happy endings, it was a dream come true.
That “dream-come-true” quality was brought home to her most clearly on Thanksgiving Day when she glanced around the table, her heart overflowing with love. The twins looked radiant and vivacious, chattering about college life and clearly thriving in the challenging academic environment. Howard had filled out and looked well on the road to recovery. And Jake... Maggie’s eyes softened as they met his warm, intimate gaze across the table. Jake made her understand the real meaning of Thanksgiving. Loving him, and being loved in return, filled her with gratitude—and hope. For Maggie sensed they were close to a resolution of their issues.
In fact, she had a feeling this Christmas might bring a very special present her way, one she’d thought never to receive again. She glanced down at her bare left hand as she reached for the basket of rolls. Maybe...maybe in a month it wouldn’t look so bare, she thought, as a delicious tingle of excitement and anticipation raced along her spine. And wouldn’t the girls love a spring wedding?
* * *
Jake turned the corner and drove slowly through the pelting, icy rain, a troubled frown on his face. Though Paul had eventually opened up and taken Jake into his confidence, in the end it hadn’t made much difference. He was withdrawing at the end of the semester.
Jake let out a long, frustrated sigh. The boy had been dealing with a lot, no question about it. First, a few weeks before leaving for school, his parents had announced their intention to divorce. That was hard enough to accept. But the reason had made it even worse. His father, whom Paul had always looked up to and admired, had admitted to an affair and made it clear that he wanted to marry the other woman. Paul had not only felt betrayed and abandoned himself, but as the only child he’d been left to comfort his devastated mother. It was a difficult position to be in at any age, but especially for a seventeen-year-old still in the process of growing up himself.
Jake believed that his talks with Paul had helped a great deal, that the sympathetic ear he’d offered had provided a much-needed outlet and sounding board for the angry, hurt young man. Slowly, over the last few weeks, he had begun to calm down, settle in. His work improved and he began to socialize more.
And then he’d been hit with the news that his mother had cancer, so far advanced that there was nothing the doctors could do. She’d been given four to six months, at best. And because she had no one else to love and support her through the ordeal to come, he had decided to go home, to be with her during the difficult days ahead. Jake knew Paul had struggled with the decision, knew he didn’t want to withdraw from school. In the end he’d made a courageous choice, and Jake admired him for it. But it was just so unfair, he thought in frustration, his fingers tightening on the wheel as he pulled to a stop in front of the cottage.
Jake forced himself to take a long, steadying breath before he slowly climbed out of the car and turned up his collar against the biting wind and cold rain. He slammed the door and strode up the walk, stopping abruptly when he realized that there was a ladder directly in his path. He frowned and glanced up—to find his father perched precariously on one of the top rungs, at roof level. A sudden gust of the relentless wind slapped a stinging sheet of sleet against his face, and he shivered.
“Dad!” he shouted, trying to be heard above the gale.
His father half turned and peered down at him.
“What are you doing up there?” Jake demanded angrily, his lips taut.
“The gutter’s blocked. Had a waterfall right above the front door,” the older man called in reply.
It wasn’t the first time lately that Jake had found his father engaged in an activity that was far too strenuous for him. Now that the older man was feeling better, he was beginning to act as if he’d never had a heart attack. But today was the worst transgression so far. He shouldn’t be on a ladder in any weather, let alone what seemed to be the beginning of a southwester.
“I’ll fix it later. Come down here right now!”
Even through the gray curtain of rain and sleet, Jake could see the sudden, defiant lift of the older man’s chin. “I was only trying to help. And you’re not in the navy anymore, you know. So stop giving orders.”
A muscle in Jake’s jaw clenched and he took a deep breath, struggling for control. “Will you please come down and go inside where it’s warm? We’re both getting soaked and I, for one, don’t intend to get pneumonia.”
With that he skirted the ladder and strode into the house, banging the door behind him.
By the time Howard followed a couple of minutes later, Jake had stripped off his wet coat and hung it to drip in the bathroom. His father glared at him as he entered, then stomped into the bathroom and threw his own drenched coat into the tub. When he returned, Jake was waiting for him, his fists planted on his hips, his lips compressed into a thin line.
“Okay, Dad. Let’s talk about this. I can’t be here to watch you all day. You know what you’re supposed to do and what you’re not supposed to do. This—” he gestured toward the front door “—is not on the list of ‘do’s,’ and you know it.”
Howard gave him a resentful glare. “I’m not one of your students, Jake. Or some enlisted man you can order around. I feel fine. I’m tired of being treated like an invalid. I can do what I want. You’re not my keeper.”
“Yes, I am. I promised Mom years ago—and Rob more recently—that I’d take care of you. And I intend to do just that.”
“That’s the only reason you let me come up here, isn’t it? Because you promised your mother and Rob. Well, I don’t need charity. I can do just fine on my own.”
“Right,” Jake replied sarcastically. “Like that little escapade I just witnessed outside. Suppose you’d fallen? Or put too much strain on your heart? You could be dead right now—or at the very least, in the hospital.”
“Maybe I’d be more welcome there.”
“That’s a fine thing to say.”
“Well, it’s true. You haven’t wanted me around in years,” the older man declared bitterly.
“I invited you to live with me, didn’t I?”
Howard gave a snort of disgust. “Sure. But only because you promised your mother and Rob. Maybe if you’d bothered to come around once in a while, Clara wouldn’t have died—five years ago today, not that you’d remember. You broke her heart, Jake. Just like you broke Maggie’s.”
Jake drew in a sharp breath. His father’s harsh words cut deeply, leaving a gaping wound in his soul. He struck back without even stopping to think, wanting to hurt as badly as he’d just been hurt. “You didn’t exactly act like you wanted me around. It wouldn’t have killed you to try and understand how I felt. Maybe if you hadn’t been so stubborn, we could have worked this out years ago. Maybe it’s as much your fault as mine that Mom’s gone.”
Howard’s face went white with shock and anger. He gripped the back of the chair and the look he gave Jake was scathing. Yet there was pain in his eyes as well, raw and unmistakable. “That’s a terrible thing to say,” he rasped hoarsely.
Yes, it was, Jake admitted, silently cursing his loss of control, shocked at the words he’d just uttered. And more were poised for release, despite his efforts to hold them back. Words that, once spoken, could never be retracted. They’d said too much already, possibly irreparably damaging the fragile relationship they’d built these last few weeks. It was time to stop this tirade, before it got even more emotional and hateful. With one last look at his father, Jake brushed past him and retrieved his damp coat from the bathroom, shrugging into it as he headed toward the front door.
“Where are you going?” Howard demanded, his voice quivering with anger.
“Out. I need to cool down before I say anything else I’ll end up regretting.”
And then he stepped outside, slamming the door shut behind him.
The sleet continued unabated, but Jake hardly noticed as he drove mindlessly to a nearby spot that overlooked the turbulent, storm-tossed coast. He sat there for a long time as the elements battered his car much as his father’s words had battered his soul. So many old hurts had surfaced, so many suppressed emotions had been released. But not in a healthy way. They’d ended up accusing each other of terrible things. All this time, while Jake thought their relationship was stabilizing, his father had been harboring a deep-seated anger against him, borne of blame and resentment. And, in many ways, Jake had felt the same toward the older man, he admitted. No wonder their “progress” had been so slow. Now it had not only come to a grinding halt, but regressed dramatically.
Jake sighed and raked his fingers helplessly through his hair as a wave of despair washed over him. His father clearly didn’t enjoy living with him. Was only doing so under duress. But he couldn’t go back to Rob’s—not yet, anyway. Though Rob had finally connected with a firm that seemed interested in hiring him, his life was still in an uproar and there was a strong possibility he and his family would have to move. So what options did that leave for Howard?
Jake didn’t have the answer to that question. And he probably wasn’t going to come up with one in the next few hours, he thought with a weary, dispirited sigh. He might as well go home, as unappealing as that prospect was.
All in all, he decided, it had been one lousy day.
And it didn’t get any better when he stepped inside the door and his glance fell on his father’s suitcase. Now what was going on? He closed his eyes and drew in a long breath, then let it out slowly.
He could hear his father rattling pans in the kitchen, and slowly, with reluctance, he made his way in that direction, pausing at the doorway just in time to see his father emptying what appeared to be a pot of beef stew into the garbage disposal. The act seemed somehow symbolic of far more than dinner going down the drain, he thought, his gut twisting painfully.
“What’s with the suitcase, Dad?” he asked, striving for an even tone.
“I’m going to visit Rob for a week. I called, and he said it was okay. There’s a flight out of Bangor in the morning. I’ll take a cab.”
Jake sighed. “I’ll drive you.”
“That’s not necessary,” the older man replied stiffly.
“I’ll drive you, Dad. Let’s not argue about that, too.”
Howard reacted to that statement with silence. And silence was the operative word during the drive to Bangor the next morning. The few comments Jake tried to make were promptly rebuffed, so he finally gave up. Only when Howard was preparing to board the plane did he get more than a grunt for an answer.
“When are you coming back, Dad?”
“I’ll take a cab to the house.”
“I’ll pick you up. Just tell me the day and time. Or I’ll call the airline and find out.”
Howard gave him a withering look, but provided the information—with obvious reluctance.
“Have a good trip,” Jake said.
Howard didn’t reply, and as Jake watched him trudge down the ramp to the plane, he jammed his hands into his pockets in frustration. How would the two of them ever work out their differences? Or maybe the real question was whether they even could, he acknowledged with a disheartened sigh. He desperately wanted to make things work between them, but he was beginning to think this was one mission that was destined for failure.
Jake was oblivious to his surroundings as he drove back to Castine, his mind desperately seeking a solution to a situation that appeared to have none. Why the retirement home caught his eye he didn’t know, but he eased his foot off the accelerator slightly and looked at it with a frown as he drove past. He’d seen it before, of course, but for the first time he examined it with a critical eye. It seemed to be a nice place. Well kept, with spacious grounds in an attractive setting. Maybe... But even as the thought crossed his mind, Jake pushed it aside. How could he even consider such a possibility when he’d promised his mother that he’d never send Howard to an “old folks” home, as she called them?
And yet...he’d also promised to take care of his father. Given the recent turn of events, he was beginning to doubt whether it was possible to keep both promises. His father clearly didn’t want to live with him. And Jake couldn’t be there all the time to take care of the older man, who was beginning to take chances with his health. Maybe, in the short term, a retirement home was the best solution. His father would have companionship, and better care than Jake could provide. They certainly wouldn’t let him climb on ladders, for one thing. And it would only be temporary, until Rob was settled again. His father liked living with Rob. Rob liked having him. Ultimately Jake was sure Howard would move back in with his first-born. Until then, he might be a lot happier—and healthier—away from his younger son.
Yet the thought of packing the older man off turned Jake’s stomach. Yes, things were bad between them. But surely there was a way to smooth out their relationship. There had to be. Only, he didn’t have a clue what it was, not after last night. And he was reaching the point of desperation. They couldn’t live as they had those first few weeks. The tension had been almost unbearable. That in itself was bad for his father’s health. The retirement home wasn’t a great solution, Jake acknowledged. But maybe his father would welcome the chance to get out from under Jake’s roof. At the very least, Jake decided to check the place out. He didn’t think it was the answer, but it couldn’t hurt to consider all the options.
* * *
Maggie’s gaze sought and came to rest on Jake’s tall, distinguished form across the gallery, and she smiled. He was half turned away from her, engaged in conversation with a patron, looking incredibly handsome in a crisply starched white shirt and dark gray suit that sat well on his broad shoulders. It was the first time all evening that Maggie had been alone, and she savored the respite, heady with elation at the praise her work had received during the opening reception for her show, basking in this moment of glory. And yet...as she lovingly traced the contours of Jake’s strong profile, she knew that her happiness tonight was magnified because he was here to share her moment of triumph. His presence made her joy complete.
“And you were worried about having this show.”
Maggie turned at Philip’s gently chiding voice and smiled. “You were right. I guess I was ready after all.”
Philip glanced at Jake, then back at Maggie, and smiled. “For a lot of things, it seems. I take it you two have worked things out?”
She colored faintly and turned to gaze again at Jake, a whisper of a smile softening her lips. “We’re getting there. We still have issues, but...I don’t know. Somehow I sense we’ll work them out.”
Philip put his hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you, you know. About this—” he gestured with one hand around the gallery “
—and about that.” He nodded toward Jake. “You deserve all the happiness life has to offer, Maggie.”
“Thank you, Philip,” she said softly. “But I’m trying not to rush things. I want to be sensible about this.”
Just then Jake turned and glanced around the room, his gaze restless and searching until it came to rest on Maggie. He gave her a slow, lazy smile that warmed her all the way from her toes to her nose, and she heard Philip chuckle.
“Maggie, honey, I know your intentions are good. But trust me. Jake is past the sensible stage. And forgive me for saying it, but so are you. In fact, I’m guessing that wedding bells will be in the air in the not-too-distant future.”
Maggie blushed. She didn’t even try to deny Philip’s words. Because the truth was she felt the same.
* * *
Maggie’s eyes were glowing as she set the Sunday paper down on the kitchen table. A review of her work—brief, but highly complimentary—had made the Boston paper! A wave of elation washed over her, and she was filled with a deep sense of satisfaction and accomplishment—and a compelling need to share the news with Jake—in person. He would be thrilled, too. She’d see him in church in two hours—but she couldn’t wait!
With uncharacteristic impulsiveness, she tucked the paper carefully into a tote bag, added four of the large cinnamon rolls she’d baked last night and headed out the door. Maybe her impromptu visit would cheer Jake up, even without the news she was bearing. He hadn’t shared many of the details about the latest falling-out with his father, sparing her the worry during this last week as she fretted about her opening, but she knew it was serious if Howard had actually gone down to Rob’s. She hoped Jake would tell her more about it now that the opening had passed.
Maggie grinned at Jake’s look of surprise half an hour later when he answered her ring. She’d never shown up uninvited before, and he was clearly taken aback—but just as clearly pleased.