Here He Comes Again

by Melissa Shirley

  “And you invited a pervert to live with us.” Knowing she would find a way to blame me and hearing it from her lips were two entirely different things. I dashed up the stairs in tears to change.

  After at least a half hour of trying to scald my life away, I stepped out of the shower and into my robe. I towel dried my hair as I traipsed out into my bedroom to find Keaton sitting on my bed. Plopping down next to him, I sighed. “Happy Thanksgiving, huh?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t call you.” He found his hands suddenly interesting.

  “I know. I waited by the phone every night.” If I didn’t sound pathetic right then, I never would. I pulled the belt to my robe tighter around me and began fiddling with the ends to keep my own hands busy.

  “I was doing school and working.”

  His family had a ton of money. “A job? Really? Doing what?”

  “Waiting tables at a restaurant, five nights a week.”

  Every emotion he’d ever felt or shown to me before reflected in his shining green eyes.

  “Joss, I know I’m never going to find anyone I love as much as I love you. These last three months, all I wanted to do was come home and be with you. I hated every minute we were apart, and I don’t ever want to face another day knowing I could lose you.” He swallowed hard and clasped his hands behind his head. “When I saw that guy, I wanted to kill him. I couldn’t stand the thought of someone else looking into your eyes, or kissing these lips.”

  His thumb brushed along my chin, then up to my lower lip.

  “Joss”--he knelt in front of me and pulled a black velvet ring box from his pocket--“I worked hard and stayed away so long, because I wanted to buy you this.” He popped it open with a quick flick of his thumb. “I’ve been practicing that.”

  I literally froze in place, almost speechless. “Keaton?”

  He knelt down on one knee in front of me, holding a large, sparkly diamond set in a slender silver band. I knew what it meant, and I couldn’t believe it.

  “Jocelyn, since the first time I saw you, I knew that you were the one person in the world I wouldn’t be able to live without. I remember standing on the school steps with Simon, and you ran up there all out of breath, the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I couldn’t think of one thing to say to you, but I knew someday I was going to make you mine. I’ve loved you longer than I haven’t loved you. I’m sorry I didn’t call, but this ring had to be perfect because you are perfect and nothing else would be good enough. I wanted to do it on my own so you'd know how much it meant to me. Will you marry me?”

  He continued to hold the ring box out in front of me. And while I knew only one answer made sense, I couldn’t form the word. A giggle bubbled up in my throat. As it escaped, it morphed into a full-fledged, out of control, body shaking, tear-producing laugh.

  Keaton stared at me, horror and pain in his eyes. “Oh, God,” I breathed, trying to stop the guffaws. “Close that thing.”

  He snapped the box shut and strode to the door.

  I swerved around him, heart racing, mind whirling. “No. Stop! Don’t go!” I squeezed my body between him and my bedroom door. “Don’t you think this is a little crazy?”

  His eyes glowed an angry shamrock green, and he clenched his fists at his side. I assumed to keep from punching something. “Seriously. My boyfriend just left here after he threw up on me and our picture-freaking-perfect dinner, and ten minutes later you’re down on one knee calling me your soul mate. Don’t you see where this might be kind of funny?”

  After a few long moments, he grinned. “I guess I should’ve picked my moment, huh?”

  I nodded.

  He stood at the door, facing me, the ring box still tucked between his fingers. I couldn’t tear my gaze away, mesmerized by the way little strands of hair curled up at his nape, fascinated by the passion-filled eyes staring back at me. “So?” He reached out and pulled me even closer, his hand on my hip.

  “We both know I’m going to say yes, but I would rather not say it in my bathrobe.”

  He grinned and lowered his head for a kiss. When we parted, he said, “I can work with that.”

  Chapter 13

  Present July, 2009

  As soon as Keaton left, I called Simon. He answered on the first ring.

  “Joss, I can’t talk now. The bank got broken into. I’m working. I’ll call you tonight.” He hung up.

  Bank robbery? Okay. It trumped confusion, but I had problems of my own. Lizette’s voicemail answered with an understanding “leave your name and number,” but it wasn’t quite the advice I needed. I called Kelly in California and her secretary, also understanding, took a long message she promised to deliver as soon as my childhood friend returned to her office. Then, in an act of immeasurable desperation, I phoned my mother.

  “Jocelyn?” Worry fortified the simple syllables.

  I understood the automatic concern. Unprompted calls home almost never happened.

  “Yeah. I wondered if you have some time. I need someone to talk to.”

  “And Simon is busy?”

  Exhibit A, the reason I always called him and not her. I rolled my eyes. “Bank robbery or something.”

  “Bank robbery? Where?”

  “I don’t know. He didn’t say.” I almost hung up the phone.

  “Is he okay?”

  “Mom, could you focus on me for a minute? Simon will call us if he needs help ferreting out a confession, but right now, I need someone to talk to.”

  She paused and blew out one of her calming breaths. “Okay. Do you want to come here?”

  I braced myself before I ever dialed, expecting a full-force grilling, complete with snide comments and rude diatribe before she agreed. My mother was one surprise wrapped up by another.

  “Would you mind coming here?” I needed to be in my own space where I would be comfortable. Walking into her house transformed me into the naughty teenager who made her life difficult, rather than a grown, adult woman who somewhat tolerated her.

  She sighed. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Mom hung up and I sat down to wait. After a few minutes, I made a pot of coffee. Then I drank that pot and made another. Two cups into the second helping, she arrived. “Good thing this is an emotional emergency rather than an “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” moment.”

  “Sorry, Jocelyn. I called to see about Simon, then I got caught up with Alex and--”

  “Never mind. You’re here now. That counts, I guess.” I held up a mug. “Do you want some?” She declined and I poured out my story instead in a caffeine-induced rush. “What do I do?”

  “About Keaton?”

  “No, Mom. About world peace.” I'd passed huffy two cups into the first pot. “Of course, about Keaton.” I sighed. “For years, I have either been running to this guy, or trying to forget him.”

  “Do you love him?”

  I’d asked myself that question about a thousand and one times. After hours and hours of soul searching and deep contemplation, I had nothing. No answer. I lusted after him. Enjoyed his company. But did I love him?

  The words slid off my tongue. “I did for such a long time, even before I knew it for sure, but seeing him with her, it shredded me, Mom. Between Keaton and the divorce, I probably have two hundred hours of therapy under my belt so I could get past the hurt and start living my life again. But I think the only reason it worked is because he was gone. Now here he is. Back and beautiful, with all the right words, and here I go again hopping right back on the Keaton roller coaster ride. It’s so dangerous, and I know it, but I’m all confused, you know?”

  She didn’t appear to understand.

  “I can’t tell if it’s the rush of the ride, or the disappointment and heartbreak when the ride ends that has me so screwed up.”

  “Well, honey, what if you don’t take the ride or buy the ticket.” She paused, her voice as muddled as my own thoughts. “This metaphor confuses me. The questi
on is simple. Do you want him?”

  I considered it for a minute. “The guy he was in the beginning? Yes. The guy who wouldn’t break my heart? Yes, I want that guy, but I trusted him not to hurt me and he did. And why should I give him a chance to do it again?”

  “She’s back in town, you know.” Leave it to my mom to jump ship in the middle of a conversation.

  I knew very well what she my mother referred to. “No, I did not know that. Humph.”

  “Her mom said she was up in Canada taking pictures for some nature magazine.”

  “Canada, huh?” The coincidence glared at me straight in the face. Keaton lived there, and Danielle worked there. It didn’t mean they’d been in Canada together. The country covered a lot of acres. It also didn’t mean anything that they’d arrived back in Storybook Lake at the same time. But it meant something that I jumped to sleazy conclusions without giving Keaton the benefit of the doubt.

  Mom blew out a big breath. “I know what you’re thinking. He was there. She was there. She came back with a baby. But, darling, there is no evidence against that boy.”

  All of the sudden she jumped on her white horse to defend…wait. Did she say baby?

  “A baby?”

  She nodded, grabbing my mug, then took a sip of my coffee. “A little girl, I think. No. Maybe it’s a boy.” She shook her head, waved her hand, and shrugged an inconsequential shoulder. “Well, anyway, it’s a baby. Janice said Danielle won’t even discuss the daddy. She gets all kinds of pissed off when anyone mentions it, even in passing.”

  My mother, the queen of all Storybook Lake gossip. Of course, she owned the town’s only beauty parlor, hub of all discussions of interesting trivia inside of our town.

  “Have you seen the kid?” I laughed on the inside. The entire town had practically put money in a betting pool trying to predict how long it would take before I came home pregnant, and here the homecoming queen spawned a kid out of wedlock. I would have held my head higher had I not been a freaking basket case over the fact that for all I knew, the baby belonged to Keaton.

  On one hand, unless being a mommy caused her to grow up a lot, I believed if Keaton fathered the baby, she’d climb the top of every roof in town in the hopes I would get wind of it. On the other hand, the coincidence of their almost simultaneous departures and returns were simply too convenient to ignore. Add to their return a baby, and I characterized the kind of disaster superstars arranged telethons to benefit.

  I’d run my hands through my hair enough that permanent rake marks lined my scalp. My hands dropped to the counter in a loud clap against the granite. “Shit, damn, hell, piss.”

  “Jocelyn!”

  “Well, what do you want me to say?”

  She considered her answer for a moment. “I don’t know, but cursing won’t help.” She sighed. “Honey, ask yourself this. What would the old Jocelyn do?”

  “The old Jocelyn?” My mind performed cartwheels inside my skull. “I didn’t realize I was new.” Leave it to my mom to make an already confusing situation worse.

  “Yes. The always grounded, never afraid, live in the moment girl you were in high school. That girl always had an answer and a plan. Maybe it’s time you ask her what you should do.”

  I chuckled. “I’m not Sybil, Mom. I grew up. That girl doesn’t live here anymore.”

  Mom shook her head. “That’s a shame. I miss her.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You hated that girl. You grounded her…” Oh, this just crossed the border to ridiculous. “Me. You grounded me and--”

  “And I admired the way you stood up for yourself, took chances, but it was my job to help you shape your life, and I didn’t want to have to get a body cavity search every time I wanted to visit you.” As though I truly belonged in a school for slow kids, she added, “In prison.”

  She surprised me with her wit. Though thinking about my mother’s cavities being searched provided a visual I squeezed my eyes shut to block. “Jeeze Mom! Can we please focus on my current situation?”

  “If you want to know if they were together in Canada, ask him. If you want to know if that baby is his, ask him. But don’t sit there and assume things you don’t know are true. He deserves better.”

  “When did you become president of the Keaton Shaw fan club?” She’d reserved all of her opinions about Keaton to quiet mutterings under her breath when around me, except in high school when she declared him worthy of the privilege of dating her teenage daughter.

  She stood, pulled her purse strap high on her shoulder, and patted my back. “I saw how happy he made you, and how lifeless you’ve become without him.”

  Protesting wasted my energy, but I did it anyway. “I’m not lifeless. I’m very lively.”

  She shrugged. “Okay. Maybe I’m wrong. I believe you were happier with him than without him.” She kissed my cheek. “Talk to him.”

  Talk to him? Hey Keaton, I heard you have a kid. Or, Keaton, is that baby yours? I thought I’d tucked all my negative Danielle feelings away in a nice box, and tied it with one of those chains loggers on TV used. Plain and simple, I wanted Keaton. Keaton made me happy once; he worked at planning our date nights, and gave me the parts of himself no one else could touch. Back when I believed we would make it no matter what, he’d been the reason I believed, and I longed to be happy again.

  Pictures of our life flashed through my mind. Our first kiss, our first time, our wedding day…

  Chapter 14

  Past June 4 - Age 22

  The weathermen in fairy tales didn’t predict days as perfect for weddings as mine. The sun shined, warming the temperature to a comfortable seventy degrees. Butterflies flittered from flower to flower, and a hundred of our closest family and friends gathered under a rented tent in The Gardens at Storybook Lake.

  Simon seated Mom, then came to wait outside the gazebo where I dressed. He knocked on the wooden frame.

  “Okay. Okay. Just a second.” I didn’t suffer from nerves, jitters, or cold feet. The only thing that mattered to me, what I wanted with every part of my heart and soul, was to look perfect for Keaton. We’d waited three and a half years; a few more seconds to sprits my hair certainly wouldn’t change his mind.

  I checked myself in the mirror for the last time as Keaton knocked. “Hey. It’s me. Can I come in?”

  “Isn’t there some kind of superstition? Seeing each other before the wedding equals a bad future kind of thing?” My words teased, but my nerves all stood on end. Where it concerned Keaton, I didn’t want to take any chances. No wives tale, voodoo, or superstition was going to come between me and my man.

  His voice shook with desperation. “Please, Jocelyn?”

  Oh, no. He used my whole name. My pulse quickened and my palms began to sweat. That either meant I’d somehow made him angry or something awful happened. This time, I hoped for the anger. “Okay.” With a steadying breath, I opened the curtain shrouding me from the sight of our guests.

  He reached out with shaky hands and pulled my body close to his. Pressed against me, his entire body trembled as he buried his head in my shoulder.

  “Are you trying to back out on me, because the timing would be really crappy.” This time I wasn’t kidding at all. I looked up in time to catch a tear that rolled down his cheek.

  He shook his head. “She isn’t coming.” The sadness in his eyes caused a sharp ache in my heart.

  When he told his mom, she didn’t say a word. Instead, she snatched up her tea set, stood, and walked out without turning back. His dad followed her. She proceeded to boycott the whole thing, planning, parties, shower, and now the wedding. “I’m so sorry, Keaton.” I didn’t know what else to say. The hurt reflected in his eyes sent fear crawling into my stomach where it settled in.

  “She’s my mom. How could she try to make me choose between you and her?”

  The quiver in his voice broke my heart. I hated Sarah Shaw for the pain she caused him.

  If I thought i
t would help, I would postpone or even cancel the wedding until his parents came around. But damned if I wanted to make the suggestion. I put it in his hands. “What do you want to do, bud?”

  After a long minute, he grinned, looking down at me. “I want to marry the girl of my dreams.”

  I smiled back, as he leaned his forehead against mine. “Well, tough. She’s married to Tom Cruise and I have the dress. You’re stuck with me.”

  He took my hands in his and brought them to his lips. “Don’t you know? You have always been my dream girl.” His kiss set my heart racing. “So, do you want to go do this?”

  I shrugged, unable to keep the smile from my lips. “We probably should. There are a lot of people out there, and they’re all expecting a wedding. Plus, there’s cake, and you know how I feel about cake.” I shrugged as though my entire existence didn’t hinge on this decision. “It could be fun.”

  He kissed me again before walking to the door. As his hand reached for the curtain, he turned back to me and whispered, “I’m going to love you for the rest of my life.”

  For the first of a hundred times, I thanked God for waterproof mascara. Simon walked me down the aisle. When we were almost close enough for him to hand me over to Keaton, he stopped, turned to me, then kissed my cheek. “I’m happy for you guys, Joss.”

  “I am too.”

  “He’s the only guy in the world I’ll ever think is good enough for you. But I’m kind of sad to see you go.”

  “Is that why you’re holding up progress here?” I had to joke, or I would have ruined my makeup with tears.

  He looked down at his shoes, then back up at me. “I love you, you know.”

  This time I reached up and pressed my lips to his chin, coming as close as I could get to his cheek. “I love you, too.”

  “Ready?”