Maybe This Kiss

by Jennifer Snow

  She stood and walked toward the dresser, where an old wooden jewelry box with her initials and a flower carved into it sat—a gift from Dean he’d made in woodworking class senior year. She opened the lid and removed the rings, then placed them inside.

  Her mother was right. She did know when it was the right time.

  * * *

  Sitting on the tiny bench outside the principal’s office at Glenwood Falls Elementary two days later, Abigail felt like a kid who’d been caught skipping class. Everything around her was so familiar, yet once again, she didn’t take comfort in it. Years before, she couldn’t wait to leave Glenwood Falls, and she’d been filled with illusions of a fantastic, exciting life in L.A.

  Things hadn’t quite worked out the way she’d planned, and the media attention given to her divorce and the circumstances around it left her no hope of saving face among her former friends and neighbors in the small town. Hell, she suspected half of them had known Dean was cheating on her based on the tabloid photos long before she’d even realized something was wrong.

  God, she’d been so blind.

  Loving him as much as she did—had—had clouded her judgment about everything. She’d just felt so lucky that Dean Underwood had chosen her to ask to the school prom, had picked her to be his girlfriend, and then had proposed when she’d told him she was pregnant. The star athlete could have had any girl in town, but he’d chosen her.

  And the offer of an exciting life as a pro athlete’s wife had been a dream come true for her. She could be the stay-at-home mom with their daughter while Dani was young and they could travel with him around the world…it had all seemed too good to be true.

  And it was.

  For the first five years, things had been wonderful, but then Dani started school and Abigail went back to college for her teaching degree. She’d also become more active in the hockey wives’ charity for the local hospital, Dreams for Life, and soon they were barely together as a family. Dean traveled with the team. She raised their daughter and helped fundraise for various causes.

  And somewhere along the line, he’d started having affairs, and she’d been too busy to notice.

  “Abby?” Liz, the principal’s receptionist, said as she came out into the hall. The woman had been the school’s receptionist when she’d been a student.

  She stood. “It’s Abigail now.” She hadn’t been Abby in a long time…and she doubted she’d ever see that girl in the mirror again.

  “Okay…well, Principal Breen is ready for you,” Liz said, holding the office door open. “Just head on in.”

  “Thank you.” Running a hand along her charcoal pencil skirt, Abigail went inside, feeling exactly as she had years before when she’d been sent to the office for talking too much in class. Her palms damp with sweat, she forced a deep breath.

  “Wow. I wasn’t sure I was reading it right when I saw you on my schedule this morning—but here you are. Abby Jansen back in Glenwood Falls—no one will believe it,” Principal Breen said from her seat behind the big mahogany desk.

  Nope. No one. Not even her.

  Abigail forced her best smile. “Nice to see you, Principal Breen.”

  “Have a seat, please,” she gestured to the chair across from her.

  She sat, looking around the office. The same bookshelf along the wall, the same file cabinet near the window, and the same bamboo tree growing in the corner. Nothing had changed in the office. Everything was exactly the same.

  “So…you’re interested in the substitute teaching position?”

  “Yes.” Abigail folded and unfolded her legs, shifting in the seat. This was her first real job interview, as the Dreams For Life charity work had kept her far too busy to apply for a teaching position in L.A. Her heart echoed in her ears and her mind raced. What was she doing here? She wasn’t even remotely qualified for this position.

  “Do you have a recent resume?”

  She swallowed hard. “Actually, I don’t have one with me…” She did, but not one she was comfortable producing, despite hours trying to make it sound better. Her mother’s “maybe they won’t need to see a resume” comment when she’d shown it to her said it all.

  Principal Breen’s eyebrows joined behind her seafoam-green rimmed glasses. “Okay, well, why don’t you start by telling me about any previous teaching experience you have.” She reached for her notepad and pen and waited.

  How about none? How could she somehow turn her treasurer role on the Dreams for Life charity and her stay-at-home mom position into something this woman would consider an asset? “Well, I haven’t taught in any schools…but I do have a degree and I did home-school my daughter, Dani, for a while.” Three months while they tried to make traveling with Dean work.

  “Okay…”

  “And I was involved with the Dreams for Life charity, which helped a lot of children…” God, she sounded like a moron. She wasn’t qualified for this job. Nowhere near it. She might as well mention her after-school newspaper delivery job as well.

  “Right.” She set the pen down and clasped her hands in front of her on the desk. “Well, we were really hoping to hire someone with actual teaching experience.”

  Shit. She needed this job. She needed something to make her feel like she could actually start building a life for herself and Dani there in Glenwood Falls. She needed her confidence to return. And she needed to know they would be okay without Dean. She would be okay without him.

  “Principal Breen, please,” she said, clutching her hands tightly in her lap. “I know my lack of experience isn’t ideal, but I can do this job. Please let me prove that to you.” And herself. She hated the sound of begging in her voice, but she wanted—needed—this job. It was hard enough moving back home, having everyone in town know the sordid details about her failed marriage, and trying to gain her daughter’s confidence in her; she really didn’t want to be forced to take the flower delivery position in town. Her already low self-esteem couldn’t handle it.

  The woman hesitated. “I’d like to help you Abby…”

  Please don’t say but…

  She paused and studied her for a moment. “How long are you planning to stay in Glenwood Falls? Is this a permanent move? Or just until you get back on your feet?”

  She swallowed hard. “It’s a permanent move.” She refused to uproot Dani again. Leaving L.A. and her friends had been tough enough. They were here to stay and to start over.

  “Okay. The substitute position will only be a few days a week…as needed.”

  Her breath caught and she tried to hold her excitement. The woman hadn’t quite said yes yet.

  “When are you available to…”

  “Any time,” she said quickly.

  Principal Breen nodded, looking as though she already regretted the decision. “All right. We’ll try this…but there’s no guarantee you’ll get the full-time position at the end of next month.”

  “I understand,” she said, but there was no way she wasn’t getting it. She’d do whatever it took to prove to Principal Breen she was the right person for the job.

  She released a breath, tension seeping from her shoulders. This was a good start to getting her life back on track. Maybe not the one she’d planned, but hopefully one she could someday be proud of.

  Chapter 2

  Another school year. Another season.

  Jackson Westmore stapled the new hockey tryout schedule on the bulletin board outside of the gym at Glenwood Falls Elementary.

  “Hey, Coach, ready for another championship?” his buddy and the school’s gym teacher, Darryl Sutton, said as he passed with a group of ten-year-olds returning from a warm-up run around the school track.

  “You bet,” Jackson said, stopping one of the bigger boys. “As long as James is still planning to try out.”

  The taller-than-average, skinny kid nodded.

  “As long as he keeps his grades up,” Darryl—also the boy’s father—said.

  “Yes, sir,” the boy said, disappearing inside
the gym with the rest of the class.

  Jackson sympathized. He knew what it was like to have a parent as a teacher. His mother had taught at the Glenwood High School for over twenty years. It sucked. He and his brothers couldn’t get away with anything. And then they’d catch shit at school and at home. His sister had had it easy, being the only non-troublemaker of the group.

  “I hear the team is going co-ed this year,” Darryl said, glancing at the sign-up form where the announcement was posted.

  “Yeah…We’ll see how it turns out. I’m not sure there are many eight- to ten-year-old girls who will be interested, but you never know,” he said with a shrug.

  He was actually thrilled by the Junior Hockey League Association’s decision to make the Atom/Novice teams a co-ed division. So far in Glenwood Falls, they hadn’t had the funding for a girls league, and he knew one in particular who was dying to play. His niece, Taylor, had been on skates since before she could walk; with two uncles in the NHL and him coaching the local Junior team, it seemed only natural for her to be interested in the sport. She was ten, and this would be her last year to play on his team. He couldn’t wait to get her out there; she could skate and puck handle better than any boy he’d ever coached.

  “I assume Taylor is guaranteed a spot?” Darryl asked.

  Jackson grinned. “She’ll have to try out like everyone else, but I have a feeling the Glenwood Falls Lightning will have a new female defenseman this season.”

  “Well, I’ve seen her play, so I’m all for it, but not everyone feels that way.”

  Jackson frowned. “Who’s having an issue with it?”

  Darryl lowered his voice. “James mentioned that some of the boys…and I suspect it’s the boys’ fathers’ words they’re repeating…are not as open-minded about this.”

  He nodded slowly. Not everyone liked change. He knew that. He just hoped that once the team was finalized based on who could play the game, and not their gender, everyone with reservations would start to feel better. They were kids after all, and the Atom league was the place to have fun while learning the sport. They would start to be more competitive once the talented, promising players moved up to Peewee and then Bantam. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  Darryl looked past him down the hall, his expression changing. “Speaking of a heads-up…”

  Oh no. He knew in his gut before he even turned around who would be standing there. He’d already heard the rumors she was back. Yet, nothing prepared him for the sight of Abby Jansen, dressed in a slim-fitting suit, her long blonde hair loose around her shoulders, her three-inch heels clicking on the tiled floor, walking toward them.

  In ten years, she hadn’t changed a bit.

  And obviously neither had his feelings for her.

  Damn.

  * * *

  Keep walking. Don’t stop. Just keep walking.

  One expensive Gucci pump in front of the other…Shit. They were both staring at her. “Hi, guys,” Abigail said tightly, keeping her gaze on Darryl and ignoring the other man she’d gone to school with.

  Wow—what an understated way to describe their relationship, she thought.

  “Hi, Abby. How are you?” Darryl asked, looking uncomfortable as he glanced at his friend.

  Jackson’s gaze was burning a hole through her forehead, but she plastered on the fake smile she’d perfected since news of her divorce had spread all over the country and continued to pretend he didn’t exist. “I’m great.” Okay, that might be stretching things a little, but she’d just gotten a job, so that counted for something. “How are things?”

  “Good…still teaching phys ed.”

  She nodded politely. He’d inherited the job from his own father when the older man had retired.

  “Well…Better get back in there.” The awkward tension seemed to be making him squirm, and he opened the gym door and ducked inside. “Great to see you,” he said quickly, as the door shut.

  Jackson’s panicky gaze left her just long enough to glance at his disappearing friend.

  Leaving them alone together in the hallway.

  She cleared her throat and waited for him to speak first. She had nothing to say to her soon to be ex-husband’s best friend, who’d never disguised the fact that he disliked her. All through high school, he’d treated her like the third wheel whenever the three of them went anywhere together. She’d even tried setting him up with countless friends, but he’d scared them all off with his jerkish I’m-better-than-everyone attitude. Obviously, he was still chasing them away. She’d heard he was single, and it couldn’t be his tall, dark, and handsome looks keeping the women at bay.

  She hadn’t seen him in years, other than to peek over Dean’s shoulder sometimes when the two Skyped. He was taller than she remembered, towering over her, even in her heels, and his broad shoulders and chest revealed he was a lot more muscular than he looked on the computer screen. His midday five o’clock shadow seemed Photoshopped to perfection, and his square, strong jawline erased any trace of the boy she used to go to school with. All he and Dean ever talked about was hockey, and she often wondered if there were any other layers to the friendship besides a shared passion for the sport.

  Obviously without hockey as the subject, the guy had little to talk about, she thought as she continued to wait for him to say something.

  He stared at the floor, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.

  Silence.

  Okay then.

  Moving around him, she continued down the hall.

  His voice stopped her. “I don’t believe everything they’re saying about Dean in the papers.”

  Neither had she, but actually seeing her husband in bed with two women was proof enough.

  Of course she didn’t expect Jackson to see her side. Slowly, she turned back. “Believe what you want, Jackson. I really don’t care.”

  He moved toward her and her spine stiffened. His light blue eyes were dark and judging. “Adultery? Abuse? Come on. We both know Dean is not that guy.”

  She hadn’t believed him capable of the emotional and verbal abuse, either. That had changed the day she’d confronted him about pictures of him and a Dallas Stars cheerleader she’d seen on the front of a supermarket tabloid. He’d gone on the defensive, saying nasty things to make her believe she was the one at fault for even accusing him of anything. Paranoid, stupid, delusional…just some of the angry insults that played on repeat in her mind.

  “I’m not having this conversation with you. Or any conversation.” They’d barely spoken before, why start now? “Glenwood Falls is big enough. I think we should be able to make these run-ins few and far between if we try hard enough.” Though, that might be harder now that she would be spending time at the school, which was right next door to the arena.

  “Oh, believe me, I’ll try hard enough,” he said, his ice-cold stare making her shiver.

  The sound of the lunch bell prevented her from saying anything more as instantly they were swarmed by groups of children heading toward the school cafeteria.

  Her eyes skimmed the crowd for Dani. Spotting her coming toward them, Abigail smiled—for real for the first time that day. She waved a hand, relieved to have the perfect excuse to end the intense, uncomfortable conversation.

  “Mom? What are you doing here?” Dani asked with a frown when she reached her.

  Not exactly the warm greeting she’d been hoping for, but at least her daughter was speaking to her. That small victory was short-lived as she noticed Jackson still standing there watching them. Dani had never actually met Jackson, only saw him occasionally on the computer and in Facebook pics. And Abigail wasn’t about to make the introduction. If in nine years the two men hadn’t felt it necessary, neither did she.

  “I came to talk to Principal Breen about a substitute teaching position,” she said, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s shoulders.

  Dani shrugged away.

  Her arm fell to her side. She knew none of this was easy o
n her daughter. Dani was close with her father, despite his frequent long absences, and she was more like him, which made common ground for bonding with her a challenge. Her daughter was too young to understand everything going on, but Abigail had done her best to explain the situation to her. She didn’t want her to rely on the tabloids for information. However, she sensed Dani blamed her, at least for the move, and she was determined to make things right with her. “She said I can start next week…whenever they need a substitute.” She glanced toward Jackson. Why was he still standing there—listening? “Isn’t that wonderful?”

  Dani shrugged.

  Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she forced herself not to look at Jackson. Moving her daughter farther away, she knelt in front of her. “I’m sorry you’re upset, and I know this move is hard on you,” she said. “But, I promise things are going to get better now.” How often had she said those words to Dani in the last three days? She wondered if it was only her daughter she was trying to convince. “Soon we’ll move into our own place, and before long this will start to feel like home.” She brushed her daughter’s whip-straight dark hair—her father’s hair—away from her face and searched her expression for any sign of understanding.

  Dani didn’t look convinced, but finally, she nodded. “Fine. Whatever,” she said simply.

  She’d take any agreement she could get at that moment. “Come on. We’ll go to the diner on Main Street for lunch.” The cafeteria food sucked. Soon enough they would both have to get used to it. But not today.

  And she suspected soon enough she would have to get used to seeing Jackson Westmore. But that, too, was something she was more than willing to postpone for as long as possible.