by Amy Vastine
“I would. And speaking of which, let me tell you about my big news!”
Whitney got up and put the pizza box on the kitchen island. “The partners called me in for a private meeting last night,” she said, returning to her chair. “They opened another office, this one in San Francisco.”
The firm already had branch offices in every major US city, including LA. But Jase failed to see why they’d assemble a private meeting to announce this one.
“They want me to manage it,” she continued. “They’d pay all relocation costs, including two round trips to look for a place to live. And if my house doesn’t sell within thirty days, they’ll buy it.”
She hadn’t been exaggerating. This was big news.
“What did you tell them?”
“Why, I said yes, of course!”
Of course? She’d made a decision that significant without even running it past him? Clearly she hadn’t been putting as much importance on their relationship as he’d thought.
Whitney grabbed his hand, gave it a squeeze. “You can do your job anywhere, as long as you have internet access and a Wi-Fi connection. Everything you do for your mom’s company here, you can do remotely. And the trip between SFO to MIA airports is only a couple of extra hours…”
It appeared that she’d given the matter a lot of thought. So why hadn’t she talked to him first?
“My whole family is here.” He slipped his hand from between hers. “So’s yours.”
Her laughter was nervous. “It’s not a long flight. We’d come home often, and they can visit us there.”
“We?”
“Of course,” she said again, her smile fading.
Jase leaned back in his chair, trying to make sense of the situation. Had she really accepted a transfer to the other side of the country based on the belief that he’d follow along like a well-trained pup?
He wouldn’t. Period. Stop acting like a just-dumped teenager. She’d saved him from delivering his “why you deserve better than a jerk like me” speech.
Jase didn’t want things to end on a sour note, though, so he said, “Sorry, Whit. But I’m afraid I have to stay put. A lot of people are counting on me here.”
Eyes narrowed, she said, “Which people?”
“My mother, for starters. You know she isn’t in the best of health.”
Whitney brightened. “Here’s an idea: we’ll get a place with an in-law suite. That way, all of us will have our own space, and you’ll be nearby if she needs you.”
That might work, if he and Whitney had a future together. But since they didn’t…
“She’d never go for that.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know my mother. She’d be leaving Drew and Dora to go there.”
Frowning, she tugged at the straw in her soda. “Will you at least think about it?”
Elbows resting on the table, Jase said, “I wish you all the best. You’ll do great out there.” And with her long-legged, blond, buxom good looks, she’d fit right in with the California crowd.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were breaking up with me.”
He considered pointing out that she was leaving him, not the other way around. But since her announcement of the job transfer had come at a perfect time, he decided against it. Their splitting up was a good thing. For both of them.
She grabbed his hand again. “We can still be together though, right?”
“You mean, have a long-distance relationship?” Jase shook his head. “I’ve never heard of a couple who could make that work, long-term.”
“Then…then you just have to come with me!”
“Look, Whitney, let’s be practical. We’ve only been dating for a couple of months.”
“More than six months. My parents were married two months after they met, and they’re still together after nearly forty years.”
That comparison made him tense up. How had the conversation turned from her promotion to marriage?
“I’m happy for you, Whit. Proud of you, too. The partners must have a lot of confidence in you to make an offer this great. And I know you’ll be a terrific manager.”
She let go of his hand and hugged herself. “So it’s like that, is it?”
Jase raised his eyebrows. “Like what?”
“You’re issuing an ultimatum. Either I stay, or we’re over.”
He wouldn’t have put it that bluntly, but yeah, she’d pretty much described how he felt.
“Tell me why, Jason. Why don’t you think this could work?”
Because to commit to a thing like that, I’d have to love you like crazy.
Jase owed her a kinder answer than that.
“You’re a great gal, and you deserve nothing but the best. That isn’t me.”
She got a little misty-eyed, then she surprised him by saying “You’re right.” Laughing, she quickly added, “Not the part about how I’m so great and deserve the best, but that we’re just…this just wasn’t meant to be.”
Relief flooded him. Gratitude, too.
Whitney got to her feet, collected their paper plates and soda cups and dumped them into the trash.
Jase stood, too. “When do you leave?”
“First thing next week, I’ll go out to have a look at the office space, order furniture and electronics, interview job candidates. And look for a house, of course. I’ve already put this one on the market. The agent will be here this evening with the contract.”
She’d done all that since last night’s meeting? Jase almost laughed out loud. No wonder she’d been late!
And to think he’d been up half the night, worried that his decision to end things might hurt her. That’ll teach you to walk around, all big-headed and full of yourself, Yeager!
“Wow. Things are happening fast.” He smiled. “The partners chose well. Why don’t we have dinner tonight. No…tomorrow, since the agent will be here tonight. We can celebrate your promotion.”
She waved his words away. “Well, I’d better start thinking about what I want to pack. And get back to work. I need to meet with HR, to look over the résumés they’ve been collecting.” She pushed her chair under the table.
She stepped up close, close enough to kiss if he had a mind to.
He didn’t have a mind to.
“I just want you to know, Jason, how sorry I am that we can’t work things out.” She tidied his shirt collar. “I think we would have made a pretty good team.”
His dad had a favorite saying, one he’d repeat any time Jase performed at less than his best: “good enough never is.” He couldn’t see himself settling into a life of pretty good.
She walked with him to the foyer. “If you want me to, I’ll call you once I’m settled in. Just to let you know how things are going. And give you my new address, of course.”
“Of course I want you to.”
“My cell number won’t change,” she said. “Will you call me from time to time, to let me know how things are going for you?”
“You bet.”
“Because there’s no reason we can’t be friends, right?”
Jase threw her favorite line back at her: “Of course.” At the moment, a white lie seemed gentler than the truth.
And the closing door described the situation well.
CHAPTER NINE
JASE SAT IN his recliner, a slice of cold pizza in one hand, the TV remote in the other. When Robert Duvall’s mustachioed face filled the screen, he stopped scrolling. He’d seen the Western twice but would never tired of it.
It wasn’t easy, paying attention to the exchange between Duvall and Kevin Costner. Not with the whole scene between Whitney and himself still so fresh in his mind. He hadn’t exactly reacted to her good news with unbridled enthusiasm, so with any luck, at least his congratulations had sounde
d sincere.
Feeling edgy—and not knowing why—Jase turned the TV off and carried his dinner dishes from the family room to the kitchen. He decided to take a drive, maybe even surprise his mom, or Drew and Dora, with a visit.
Taking his keys from the glass bowl on the table in the foyer, Jase stepped onto the small back porch. His cell phone rang as he reached inside to pull the door shut. He didn’t recognize the number, but noncritical updates on business-related matters usually came by way of text message. He prepared himself for bad news. Easier to put out a small fire, he decided, hitting the accept icon, than wait for trouble to spread.
“Yeager,” he said.
“Hi, it’s Lillie.”
It hadn’t been necessary for her to identify herself. He’d been hearing that voice in his dreams for years. Jase almost wished it had been Dan, calling to report that the materials he’d need for the next show were still in short supply.
“Hey. Lill. How goes it?”
“It goes.”
They’d started hundreds, maybe thousands of conversations this way before her stint in rehab.
“So what’s up?” he asked, though he knew the answer.
“I’m just calling to see when you’re available to run through a few songs. For the Hopkins’ kids’ wedding, remember?”
Of course he remembered. It’d been less than a week, yet he’d thought of little else since driving away from the parking lot. But wait…she hadn’t asked if he was still interested. Did it mean his sudden mood swing hadn’t been so prickly after all? He hadn’t exactly behaved like a candidate for the Positive Attitude Award during that visit to her folks’ front yard, or at the coffee shop. In their heyday, Lillie would have held his feet to the fire for succumbing to “grumpy old man” conduct. Why not this time? If accepting people at face value was part of her recovery, Jase needed to add it to his mental list of changes in her. Positive changes.
“I’ll open up my calendar.”
There were no meetings this week, and he had ten days to prepare for his next trip to Florida. He didn’t need to look at his calendar. What he needed was time to formulate a response.
“I have to work tonight and tomorrow night,” she told him, “and the lunch rush tomorrow. But I’m free the next day, and the day after that.”
“Tell you what. How ’bout if you choose a couple of days and times that work for you, and get back to me?”
The pause was lengthy enough that Jase pulled the phone away from his ear, to see if the call had dropped.
“We can get together day after next,” she said, “anytime.”
“How’s ten o’clock? Too early?”
Lillie laughed. “Have you met me? I’m up with the birds, remember?”
Yeah, he remembered all right. Not long after she’d joined the band, they’d all gone camping with a plan to work out some new tunes. Jase and the guys had turned in a good two hours before Lillie, yet when the sun came up, she’d greeted them with coffee, toast and bacon on the grill, and a chirpy “Good morning!” While the guys grumbled, Lillie had whipped up a panful of scrambled eggs, and served up the meal with a smile. Every time that memory surfaced, Jase compared the scene to the changes caused by the pills. But cheerfulness was in Lillie’s DNA.
“If you like, we can get together in the afternoon. Or the evening, for that matter.”
“No, ten’s fine. In your folks’ turret?”
“Yep. You’re gonna love the sound quality in there.”
“Okay. It’s a date, then.”
A second, perhaps two ticked by, and she filled the prickly silence with, “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me, too.” And he meant it.
Repocketing the phone, he shut the door behind him. He decided against visiting his brother, or his mom. What he needed was noise and activity to divert his thoughts. He’d find both—in spades—at his old bandmate Spence’s house.
On the way to Ellicott City, he stopped at a big box store and picked up an assortment of toys and puzzles. He hadn’t even rung the front bell when the band’s bass player flung open the door and wrapped Jase in a brotherly hug.
“Dude! What brings you to this side of town?”
“It’s been a while since I saw those rug rats of yours.” He held up the big plastic bag. “Thought I’d bribe ’em into telling their ol’ uncle Jase a few knock-knock jokes.”
“You start that ball rollin’,” Spence said, giving Jase a playful shove, “and you’re on your own. Those kids don’t know the meaning of the word enough.”
“What I want to know is how in the world they memorized that many jokes!”
Spence tapped his temple. “They take after their dad.” He cupped a palm beside his mouth, bellowed, “Fiona, hon! C’mere!”
Drying her hands on a dish towel as she rounded the corner, Spence’s wife did her best to look and sound like a stern mother. “For heaven’s sake, Spencer, must you shout all the time?”
“Only when the cat drags in stuff like this.” He stepped aside, and when she saw Jase standing near the door, she grabbed his elbow and pulled him inside.
“How long has it been since you stopped by?” she asked, guiding him toward the kitchen.
“Too long.” By his count, it had been nearly six months. The Muzikalees were still the house band at Three-Eyed Joe’s. And since Deke, the owner, counted on Jase to keep the books straight, he’d seen the band members weekly. Their wives and kids were another matter.
She linked her arm through his and led him into the kitchen. “What have you been up to?”
“Working, mostly.”
Eyes narrowed, she rested both fists on her hips. “Mostly?”
He didn’t dare say “Breaking up with one girl, spending a little time with Lillie,” because a) she would read him the riot act for both, and b) what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.
“Where are the kids?”
“We’re running late with dinner today, thanks to homework, drum lessons…stuff. They’re out back, kicking a soccer ball around,” Spence said.
“Go on out there,” Fiona said. “They’ll be over the moon when they see you!”
Jase flung the big bag over one shoulder and, as he stepped onto the deck, watched the Smith kids jockeying for control of the ball. Their happy laughter and taunts floated around the tidy yard, and as Glen, the youngest, kicked it toward the tall hedge that formed the property line, Jase hollered, “Ho-ho-ho!”
The ball landed in the shrubs as all three boys raced toward him.
“Uncle Jase!” they shouted, hugging his knees.
“What’s in the bag?” Glen, the seven-year-old asked.
“Just a couple of surprises for you guys.”
Greg, the nine-year-old, said, “Can we see ’em?”
He put the bag on the deck and sat at the table. “Better check with your mom first. I don’t want to get in trouble for making you guys even later having your supper.”
“Mom!” Grant bellowed. “Mom!”
Fiona parted the curtains of the window above the sink. “Unless somebody’s bleeding, I don’t want to hear noise like that!”
“Uncle Jase won’t give us our surprises until after we eat,” Grant said.
“I’ve already set him a place at the table. Supper’s in ten minutes, so go wash up, right now, you hear?”
Now he faced the prospect of stuffing his face with a second dinner meal. When he’d decided to drop by, he didn’t think he’d be interrupting suppertime…
“Aw, does that mean we can’t see our surprises yet?”
“’Fraid so,” Jase said. “Don’t want to rile your mom, now do we?”
Jase led the way inside, and the boys dogged his heels.
“We saw you on TV,” Grant said. “You did a really good job!”
He ruffl
ed the boy’s hair. “Thanks, kiddo.”
The foursome formed a line at the powder room door, each waiting his turn to clean up. By the time Jase stepped up to the sink, the towel bore gray streaks. Laughing, he found a clean dry corner and blotted his damp hands.
“So what can I do to help?” Jase asked, finding Fiona in the kitchen.
She handed him a bag of salad fixings and a stack of small bowls. “You can put this on the table. The dressing is in the fridge.”
While he worked, she said, “So how are things going with you and Whitney?”
“They aren’t. She pulled the plug today.”
“No way.”
“The firm made her an offer she couldn’t refuse, so she’s moving to San Francisco.”
“No way!”
Nodding, Jase said, “She leaves next week for Phase One.”
“I always suspected she was an idiot. Now I’m sure of it.”
He grabbed four bottles of salad dressing and lined them up on the table as she continued.
“Goofy girl doesn’t know a good catch when she sees one.” Then, “When did she break it off with you?”
“She didn’t. Exactly.” He told her how things had gone. “Believe it or not, she did me a favor. I’d been about to tell her that I think we should see other people.”
“No. Way!”
Jase nodded. “She couldn’t have timed it better if she tried.”
She pulled out a kitchen chair and pointed at the seat. “Park it, mister, and tell me all about the reasons you were about to say goodbye.”
Jase looked left, then right, and satisfied they were alone, said, “It sounds stupid, I know, but we just didn’t connect. There just wasn’t any…” At a loss for words, he shrugged.
“No spark, huh?” Fiona sat across from him, and tidied the flatware beside her plate. “Like there was with Lillie.”
He didn’t know what she might say, but Jase hadn’t expected that.
“You can drop the act, m’friend. I remember how it was between you two. I’ve never seen a couple more in love than you and Lillie.”
Jase couldn’t very well argue. They had been great together before the accident.