by Dena Blake
“You just seem like the type of person they’d be looking for.”
“And what type of person is that?” Only known me for a day, and she already thinks she knows my type.
Amelia stopped again and looked at her curiously. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Really. I just thought…” She blew out a short breath. “Well, you have Abby, so you might be good with kids.”
“Oh.” Jillian could see the sincerity in Amelia’s eyes, and instead of pressing the issue, she decided to take her at her word. Amelia was dead wrong. Jillian and kids didn’t mix.
They rounded the corner and came upon the old park where the two of them used to meet when they were younger.
“You want to sit for a minute?” Amelia asked.
“Sure.” Jillian plopped into a swing as Amelia leaned up against the beam of the metal A-frame anchoring it.
Closing her eyes, Jillian sucked in the all-too-familiar scent of the magnolia trees dotting the landscape and relaxed. She’d loved this place. Her mother had taken her here daily when she was a child.
“Are you okay?” Amelia’s voice rang through her sanctuary of thoughts.
The swing slowed. “Yes, why?”
“You’re crying.”
“What?” She put her hand to her cheek, and the moisture heated her fingers. “Allergies,” she said, choking out a cough. “It’s just my allergies.”
“Are you sure?” Amelia knelt in front of her and put a hand on her knee.
She looked deep into Amelia’s eyes. They were the soft and warm eyes she remembered. Not the cold, dark ones she’d seen earlier in the day. She pulled her gaze away. “Yes, I’m sure. Can we go back now?”
“Of course.” Amelia popped up and offered Jillian her hand.
Jillian took her hand and allowed Amelia to help her out of the swing, letting her hand linger in Amelia’s for a moment. Her hand was soft and warm, her grip gentle. The tingle that shot through Jillian caught her off guard. She’d never forgotten the feeling. Get a grip, Jillian. All this reminiscing wasn’t doing her any good. She needed to straighten up. Tomorrow would be the most challenging part of playing this role. She would have to find a normal job.
Chapter Four
Amelia pushed through the front door of the law office she and her partner shared and shouted, “Dinner’s here.” She set the Chinese-food containers on the coffee table in her office and then went into the small storage area they called a break room and pulled a couple of bottles of beer from the refrigerator. “A new woman moved in at the house.”
“Is she cute?”
“Infuriating is more like it.” Amelia twisted the cap off one of the beers and handed it to Julie. Then she did the same for the other.
“Oh yeah? What’d she do?”
“She’s the one who cut me off this morning.”
“The one you were screaming about on the phone?” Julie chuckled. “Isn’t that a coincidence? Or maybe just karma.”
“I wasn’t screaming.” She took a sip of her beer and set it on the table.
“Yeah, you were.” Julie nodded. “Did you scare the poor girl back to wherever she came from?” She opened all the containers and assessed the food. “Orange chicken?”
Amelia pushed one of the containers toward Julie and picked up another. “We rectified the situation when I splattered paint all over her shirt.” She opened the container and plowed into it with a pair of chopsticks.
“You, my dear, should come with a disclaimer.”
“It was accidental. We agreed to call it even and then took a walk to the park.” Amelia slurped a lo mien noodle into her mouth.
“Oh, so you turned on the charm and got the newbie interested in you.”
“Absolutely not. She’s not interested, and I don’t need that kind of trouble.” Amelia recalled what had happened earlier. She didn’t think she’d said anything to upset JJ, but something had definitely bothered her. The tears in her eyes hadn’t stopped immediately, and Amelia knew they weren’t caused by any allergy. The walk back had been long and silent. Any time she’d tried to draw JJ out again, she’d received very short answers. What could’ve made her so sad, so quickly?
“You wouldn’t know interest if it was a runaway tire that hit you square in the face.”
Amelia widened her eyes and shook her head. “That’s not completely true.”
“You never figured it out when I was after you.”
“I think I must have. We got married, didn’t we?”
“Not then. After the divorce.”
Amelia stopped eating and put the container on the table. “After the divorce?”
She nodded. “I missed you, especially at night.”
“For more than just sex? But you said you…”
“Needed more. I know. The divorce had to happen. That’s why I forced myself not to call you and occupied myself with late-night movies.”
“Jules…” Amelia’s heart tugged, and she reached for her. She knew she’d been a terrible wife.
“Don’t worry. That window closed a long time ago.”
“I thought you stayed away because you were angry at me.” Amelia swiped a napkin across her face. “Huh. How did I never know that?” She picked up her beer and took a sip.
“Because you don’t pay attention, that’s how.” Julie took the lo mien container from Amelia’s hand and replaced it with the orange chicken. “I’m not the only one you’ve lost because of that.”
“Wow. Those are some strong words you’re tossing around, Ms. Mathews. When was that?”
“Not long after the divorce. When you were dating Darcy.”
Amelia tilted her head, trying to place the woman.
“That pretty little redhead at the high school.” Julie put down the lo mien and picked up the fried rice. Having no luck with the chopsticks, she dropped them onto the table and grabbed a fork.
“Oh yeah, Darcy.” She shook her head and smiled. “She was cute and really good in the sack, as I recall.” She rolled her eyes. “But she was always around, bringing me food or coffee. It was very distracting.”
“Because she was crazy about you.” Julie poked her fork into the container Amelia was holding, snagged a piece orange chicken from it, and popped it into her mouth.
“That was during the Montgomery custody battle. I was pretty busy then.”
“Exactly. Like I said, crazy about you and you didn’t even notice because you’re always working.” Julie picked up her beer and flopped back against the couch. “You remember your girlfriends by the case you were working on at the time. Doesn’t that tell you something?”
Amelia squinted and looked up at the ceiling. “Now that I think about it, you used to bring me food too.”
“Yep. I got pretty good at cooking. Not that you noticed.”
“I noticed.” Amelia puffed out an irritated breath.
“Oh yeah? Name something I cooked for you.”
“Umm.” She scrunched her nose. “Spa…ghetti?”
“Lasagna, and it was a whole lot of work to make.” Julie slapped her empty beer bottle onto the table. “After you let Darcy get away, I decided it wasn’t about me. If someone as sweet as her couldn’t get your attention, I never had a chance.”
“But we still—”
Julie put up her hands. “That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy sleeping with you on occasion. I just decided to remain unattached.”
“I’m sorry, Jules. I had no idea.”
“No worries, it’s all good, but someday you’re going to have to take those blinders off and find someone.”
“That’s just it, Jules.” Amelia sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t want to have to find someone. I’ve never thought of love as something you plan.” She shifted to face her. “It just doesn’t come to your door and announce itself. You meet someone by chance, and whether it’s for a day, an hour, or a minute, it’s an instant connection. It hits you like a lightning bolt, smoothing out all of your edges and filling all the gashe
s in your soul. All the chaos you’ve endured in your past dissolves, and you want to submerge yourself in it completely.”
“Wow.” Julie stared at her for a minute, seeming to absorb what she’d said. “Do you ever think about her?”
“Who? Darcy? No.”
“That girl from high school?”
Amelia shuddered as the memory flew through her mind. “From time to time.” And every day in between.
Julie picked up a magazine from the coffee table and thumbed through it. “I guess it would be difficult not to. She’s been on plenty of magazine covers.” She found a picture of Jillian and seemed to study it. “She is beautiful.” She looked up at Amelia, seeming to gauge her reaction. “Ever thought about contacting her?”
“I’m sure she doesn’t want to hear from me,” Amelia said as she shifted uncomfortably, trying not to look at Jillian’s picture.
“She’s never gotten married, you know.” Julie slapped the magazine closed and dropped it on the table. “Maybe she’s just like you.”
“Like me how? Busy? Not getting any work done because she has a chatty law partner?” She lifted a brow and cocked her head.
“Ha-ha.” She squinted. “Waiting for the love of her life to come crashing back into her world.”
“I’m not waiting for her.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” Julie popped up off the couch. “I’m going to leave you at that.” She picked up her empty bottle and a few of the containers and threw them into the trash can on her way to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning, love. Don’t work too late.”
Amelia thought about what Julie had said. She’d known from the very start that Julie had been in love with her, and Amelia hadn’t been able to do anything to prevent it. She also couldn’t control how she felt about someone who was long gone and so far out of her league now. Why couldn’t she control whom she fell in love with? Everything would be so much easier.
Amelia remembered the day she fell in love with Jillian clearly. She’d never forgotten her smile, the sound of her voice, her laugh, the smell of her hair. It had all been magnified tenfold. Everything in her life became about Jillian at that point. Amelia wanted to do so many things with her, talking, laughing…kissing. She was older than Jillian by a couple of years and had pushed herself to stay away, not follow her like a lovesick puppy, but it was challenging. Amelia found it extremely difficult to accept what she felt and that she could be so vulnerable. Life was so unfair, sometimes.
If Blake hadn’t taken a liking to Jamie, Amelia probably would never have met her younger sister, Jillian, and sometimes she wished she hadn’t. Blake was the captain of the baseball team and had girls falling all over him. Why couldn’t he have just chosen someone besides Jamie? She was younger than the rest of the girls, sweeter, a little naive even. Blake didn’t even know her until Amelia became friends with her. Amelia knew their friendship would be short-lived because Blake would bask in the attention Jamie gave him for a couple of months and then toss her aside. Deep down, her brother wasn’t a bad guy, but he’d liked the attention he got in high school.
After Blake and Jamie broke up, Amelia’s friendship with Jamie waned as she kept her distance from Blake, but Jillian continued to come around. She waited for Amelia after practice, walked her home, and then invited Amelia to spend time at her house. They became best friends, and in Amelia’s wildest dreams, she’d never seen what came next. One night during a sleepover, Jillian confided in Amelia that she’d had a huge crush on her from the first time they’d met. Amelia vividly remembered the emotions that rushed her. They’d spent the whole night holding, kissing, and touching each other. It was the most wildly intoxicating feeling she’d ever felt, and she hadn’t experienced anything like it since.
Life was perfect for a little while after that. They kept their relationship to themselves, spending as much time as they could together, which was mostly after school and weekend sleepovers at Jillian’s house. They made out a lot, held each other, and did some serious touching. But nothing nearly as serious as she dreamed of doing today. Amelia knew that was a dream that would never come true.
* * *
Kelly slipped her newly cut key into the lock and flipped the deadbolt. “Jillian,” she said quietly, entering the small one-bedroom apartment. With the bouquet of flowers she’d brought in her hand, she went through the quaint living area in search of her love. Not there. She went into the kitchen, plucked a crystal vase from the cupboard, and dropped the flowers into it before she headed into the bedroom. “Jillian. I brought you some flowers.” Not there either, and the bed hadn’t been slept in. She yanked open the closet door. Some of her work clothes were hanging in their usual side of the closet, but all of her casual clothes were missing from the others, as were some of her shoes. She went into the bathroom. All of her personal things were missing. She rubbed her forehead. Had Jillian gone on location and forgotten to tell her? The more she looked around the apartment, the more she saw the subtle differences. She didn’t know where she was, but Jillian had left without leaving a hint as to where she’d gone.
“You bitch.” She sent the crystal vase and flowers crashing to the floor. “You can’t just leave me like this. You’re mine.”
“Where the hell are you?” She braced herself in the doorway, trying to focus. “You’re with that bastard Christian.” She looked at her watch. Ten a.m. She’d be at the studio. She raced through the apartment and out the door. Always at that fucking studio. She spent half her life there—with him, the man who never did anything wrong. She was at that fucking studio, fucking Mr. Perfect. She knew she couldn’t trust her. All of her excuses and lies. Kelly knew what Jillian was doing.
* * *
Jillian sat in the darkness, looking through the tiny cracks between the slats in the closet door as her mother whisked into the bedroom. She was smiling, but Jillian didn’t dare let her know she was there. Her mother was meticulous about her clothes and wouldn’t be happy Jillian was borrowing them without permission again. She heard her father’s voice, which was loud, and he was calling her Judith. He was angry. He took her mother by the shoulders and shook her. He lowered his voice, and Jillian couldn’t make out what she was saying, but her mother began to cry. Her dad rubbed his face, then went to his dresser, opened the top drawer, and took something out. Jillian couldn’t see what it was. The dresser rocked back and forth as the drawer slammed shut.
She sprang up in bed, trying to focus. Where am I? The watercolor painting on the wall of her bedroom that usually kept her focused wasn’t there. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She panicked and leaped out of bed before she remembered where she was. The nightmare had been one of the most vivid Jillian had ever experienced. She felt like a child again—alone, vulnerable, raw. This house was bringing her emotions out in full force. She searched through her purse at the side of the bed but couldn’t find her pills. She slipped into the bathroom and closed the door connecting to Abby’s room, then flipped on the light. She didn’t want to wake her. She didn’t want to have to explain.
The reflection she saw in the mirror worried her. Dark circles and sunken eyes. Who was this frightened child living inside her? She’d thought she’d left her behind long ago. It certainly wasn’t the woman she’d been for the past ten years. She flipped off the bathroom light and closed the door, then crossed the room and turned on the bedside lamp. The clock read 12:23, and she was wide awake. Maybe some hot cocoa would help. She pulled on her robe and went downstairs.
As she moved across the living room, Jillian heard noise coming from the kitchen and could see light under the closed door. Who else was having a restless night? When she pushed through the door, she was surprised to see Logan and Abby at the table, huddled close together, studying.
“It’s late. You two should be in bed.”
“Logan says there’s a geometry quiz tomorrow. He’s helping me memorize the theorems,” Abby said, glancing up from her book. “He’s going to be a meteorologist.”
>
“Geometry was always a b—I mean, really hard.” Jillian took a pot from the cupboard. “You could definitely be a meteorologist if you set your mind to it.”
“No. I could never do that much math.”
Jillian poured milk into the pot and put it on the stove. “Do you two want some cocoa?”
“Ooh, that sounds good,” Abby said and turned to Logan. “You want some?”
Logan nodded. “Are there any marshmallows?”
Jillian pulled open the cabinet and rummaged through the assorted boxes of cereal and crackers before she found a bag of mini marshmallows. “Yep.” She took three mugs from the shelf and dumped a package of cocoa mix into each of them before filling them all with warm milk. After dropping a small handful of mini marshmallows into each cup, she set two mugs in front of the kids.
“What’s this?” Jillian picked up the cartoon of the woman with an exaggerated butt and an even larger bosom, accentuated by a tight sweater, skirt, and three-inch heels. “It’s a caricature of…me?”
“Isn’t it funny? David drew it.”
“Yeah, funny.” She pressed her lips together into a thin-lipped smile. He’d made her look like a harlot.
“He drew one of me too.” She pulled a drawing out of her notebook.
Jillian snatched it out of her hand. “Let me see that.” If the one he’d drawn of Jillian was this outrageous, she could only imagine what Abby’s looked like.
“Hey, give it back,” Abby squealed.
Jillian’s mouth dropped open. It wasn’t a caricature at all but a tastefully done sketch. “It’s very nice,” she said and handed it back to Abby.
“I know. I told him I’d never talk to him at school if he drew one of those of me.” She scrunched her face as she looked at the unflattering one of Jillian.
“I guess that’s one way to go about it.” Abby had certainly learned quickly how to manipulate David. She tossed the drawing of herself across the table. “Don’t stay up too much longer. You’re not going to remember anything if you don’t get enough rest.”