Once and Again

Chapter Two

As Jess negotiated the familiar roads on her way to Kristin and Brian’s house, she was amazed by how little had changed through the years. When she’d traveled this same route a couple hours earlier, she’d been too intent on getting to the hospital to register any of the surroundings. Now that she’d seen Kristin and knew Caleb’s condition was—although still critical—at least stable, she was able to get a better impression of the town she’d grown up in.

Anderson’s Hardware was still on the corner of Main and Wilson Streets, next to Time & Again—a secondhand store—and The Book Market.

The cybercafé was new.

That café had been a pizza parlor when Jessica was in high school, and she’d worked there after school and on weekends. She’d been working the day Nick Armstrong had come home after his first year away at college, and when he’d walked into the restaurant her sixteen-year-old heart had tripped and fallen at his feet.

Nick had been her first crush. Her first lover. Her first heartbreak.

She pushed away those thoughts as she braked for a red light, coming to a stop beside Brody’s Drugstore. The front window was decorated for Halloween even though it was only the middle of September. The seasons seemed to slip past so quickly now—as her life seemed to be doing. She sighed as she continued her perusal. Across the street was Emma’s Flower Shop, with bouquets of fresh-cut flowers out front to tempt passersby; beside the florist was Beckett’s Sporting Goods store, advertising a storewide clearance on Rollerblades, skateboards and bicycles.

She felt the sting of tears again. Would Kristin ever be able to forgive her?

Would she ever forgive herself?

She pulled into the driveway and wondered if she’d made a mistake in coming back.

When she’d heard about Caleb’s accident, she’d paused only long enough to throw a few things in a suitcase. Now, as she carried that suitcase to the house, she started to doubt the wisdom of her impulsive actions. Not just because of the unplanned meeting with Nick and the unwelcome onslaught of memories, but because of the unexpected distance between her and Kristin that she didn’t know how to bridge.

She should have expected that there would be some awkwardness between them. It was naive to hope that the bonds between them would have endured despite the passing of time. But it was what she’d hoped, and she’d been foolishly disappointed to find otherwise.

Jess had been seven—the same age Caleb was now—when she’d moved to Pinehurst. She’d met Kristin on her first day in Mrs. Hartwick’s second-grade class at Parkdale Elementary School. From that day on, they’d been the best of friends.

Kristin and Jessica. Jessica and Kristin.

Her mom used to tease that where one went, the other would follow. But that wasn’t really an accurate description of their relationship. They were partners, allies, equals.

They used to talk for hours on the phone every night, discussing homework assignments, comparing notes on boys and making plans for the future. Top of their list was to get out of Pinehurst and see the world together.

Then Kristin had fallen in love, and instead of pursuing her dream of going off to college, she’d chosen to stay in Pinehurst to marry Brian Clarke. And Jess, more determined than ever to follow her own path, had taken her scholarship to Columbia University and gone to New York City alone.

Eighteen years later, Kristin was still happily married to her high school sweetheart, living in the home where she’d grown up and the mother of three beautiful children. Jessica had a successful career as a corporate attorney, an apartment with a great view and absolutely nothing else.

They were adults now, with adult lives and responsibilities, and not just geography but a lot of history separating them.

Still, she was optimistic that they could bridge that distance one step at a time. The first step, and the most difficult for Jess, had been coming home. Now that she was here, she was determined to do what she could to help her oldest friend.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside.

As a child, she’d spent almost as much time in this house as in her own. And although Kristin and Brian had made some minor changes after Kristin’s mom had passed away—walls painted, appliances updated, furniture replaced—those changes didn’t detract at all from the sense of homecoming.

She shook her head, surprised by her feelings of nostalgia. When she’d left Pinehurst, she’d willingly left all of this behind. Now that she was back, she couldn’t remember why she’d been so anxious to go.

She moved through the archway and into the dining room, her heart breaking a little to see the remnants of Caleb’s birthday party. There were still blue and orange streamers hanging from the ceiling and bouquets of now deflated helium balloons in the corners. The long table was covered with a paper cloth that bore traces of macaroni salad and potato chip crumbs. A half-empty punch bowl, bottles of ketchup and mustard and an open jar of relish were further remnants of the feast. Napkins had been scrunched up and discarded along with plastic cutlery.

She picked up a cone-shaped party hat, traced her fingers over the glittering letters that spelled out “Happy Birthday” across the front. The fist that had gripped her heart since she’d learned of the accident squeezed tighter.

She closed her eyes but couldn’t banish the image of Caleb in that hospital bed with a ventilator to breathe for him, tubes to feed him, and machines monitoring every function of his body.

She’d taken one look at him and had been almost overwhelmed by fear and guilt. She wanted to support Kristin, to be the friend she hadn’t been for so long, but maybe too much time had passed. Maybe it really was too late.

What good could she do anyway? She wasn’t a doctor or a psychologist or even a social worker. She was a lawyer—a corporate attorney who’d buried herself in her job for ten years because it was the one thing she knew she was good at. And a woman who, as much as she hated to admit it, had abandoned her best friend a long time ago.

Standing here now, in Kristin’s dining room, she knew she’d made a mistake in coming back. She couldn’t help her friend, and there was almost nothing she hated more than feeling helpless.

She turned to leave, and then she saw it.

On the sideboard.

An uncut birthday cake with seven unlit candles.

R2-D2. She recognized the droid character immediately and realized the recent resurgence of Star Wars popularity must have hooked Kristin’s youngest son, as it had hooked her and Kristin when they were young.

The cake was perfect in both shape and color, with the tiniest details painstakingly recreated. She knew immediately that Kristin had made it. The degree of care and attention evident in the finished product could never be bought, but was an obvious reflection of a mother’s love.

It was this uncut cake, this visual reminder of a celebration cut short by tragedy, that was nearly her undoing.

Emotions churned inside her, clamored for release. Jess held them back. Suppressing her feelings was another thing she’d always been good at. Tears were a luxury she couldn’t afford right now and crying wouldn’t make any difference. Not to Kristin or Brian, and certainly not to Caleb.

Jess looked around once more. Cleaning up this mess couldn’t possibly ease her friend’s burden, but at least it was something useful she could do.

She returned to the kitchen to find a garbage bag.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here.”

She hadn’t heard the door, and when his voice broke the silence, she started, her heart in her throat, her pulse racing wildly. Turning, she found herself once again face-to-face with Nick, and no more prepared for this meeting than she’d been for their earlier encounter.

She exhaled slowly, her heart receding to its appropriate location, her pulse continuing to beat just a little too fast. “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said,” he agreed.

“Then you shouldn’t be surprised by my presence.” She turned and headed back to the dining room.

Of course, he followed.

There had been a time when she’d wanted more than anything to be with him, and he’d walked out on her. Now, when she wanted only to be alone, she couldn’t get rid of him.

“Why are you here, Nick?”

It was the same question he’d asked himself on the way over. The answer, he knew, was simple—because he wasn’t smart enough to stay away. It wasn’t an answer he was going to share with Jessica, though.

“I thought I’d come by to clean up.”

“I can take care of it.”

“I’m sure you can.” He bent to pick up a crumpled piece of discarded wrapping paper. “But it will go quicker if we work together.”

“Work together?” she echoed, as if it were a completely foreign concept.

Not that he could blame her for being suspicious. After so many years of distance and silence, why would she expect that he’d want to do anything with her? But despite that nothing had changed between them, he could appreciate that she was trying to help and show that appreciation by making an effort to be civil.

“You were the one who suggested shelving the hostility,” he reminded her. “I thought we could take that a step further and, if not actually cooperate, at least coexist for the short term.” He shoved a handful of crepe streamers into the bag she carried and couldn’t help adding, “That is, if you’re determined to hang around.”

Her eyes narrowed, shooting molten sparks of gold. “I’m staying.”

Then she bent over the table to roll up the paper cloth with the disposable partyware inside.

He watched her, noting that her chic, short haircut exposed the graceful line of her neck and the deep vee of her sleeveless top revealed just the slightest hint of cleavage as she bent over the table. His gaze drifted downward, to the narrow waist, slender hips and endlessly long legs. Her feet, he noticed, were bare, and her toenails painted a vibrant shade of red.

Damn, she was still a distraction.

Nick, determined not to let himself be distracted, turned his attention elsewhere.

“No!”

Jessica’s vehement protest startled him, and she took advantage of his pause to grab the cake board from his hands.

He caught a whiff of her perfume as she pulled back, something light and spicy that called to the baser parts of his anatomy. It was different than the scent she’d worn so many years before. Then again, a lot of things were different now. And yet, so much had stayed the same—including his body’s instinctive response to her nearness.

He stared at her, at the flush of color that infused her cheeks as she clutched the cake protectively against her chest. The fierce, almost desperate determination in her golden eyes sparked a long-forgotten memory.

Not forgotten really, but buried. And as a hint of that memory started to surface, he remembered why it was buried. Why it was best to leave it that way.

“Kristin made this,” she said, as though it explained everything.

“There’s no reason to keep it.”

“There’s every reason.”

“It’s an unnecessary reminder of a tragic day.”

A day he knew he wouldn’t ever forget.

Although he was trying to maintain a positive outlook, especially for his sister’s sake, doubts were starting to creep in. He knew it was possible, although it was a possibility he didn’t want to consider, that Caleb might be suffering from a serious brain injury. And with every hour that Caleb remained in the coma, the outlook grew dimmer.

He loved all of Kristin’s kids, but he felt a special connection to Caleb. Maybe because he knew that his sister’s third pregnancy was unplanned, and he’d wanted to ensure that his youngest nephew never felt unwanted. Maybe because Caleb had been born when his own marriage had started to fall apart, and he wanted to fill the void in his own life that came from accepting he wasn’t likely to ever have any children of his own.

“It’s not a reminder of a tragedy,” she denied, interrupting his thoughts. “It’s a symbol of a celebration unfinished. And when Caleb wakes up, he’s going to want this cake.”

Nick wasn’t convinced Caleb would want any reminders of this day, but the strength of her conviction dissuaded further argument. He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. As if her absolute confidence in Caleb’s recovery hadn’t touched a dark place in his heart that desperately needed the light of reassurance.

“Then do something with it,” he said gruffly. “So Kristin doesn’t have to see it when she comes home.”

Jessica carried it to the kitchen.

It’s just a cake, Nick assured himself. There was absolutely no reason to believe that she had any residual power over him because he relented on this one issue.

But his gaze lingered on the doorway through which she’d disappeared.

Jessica was washing up the few dishes in the sink when Nick came back through the kitchen. Now that most of the cleanup was finished, she expected that he would make an excuse and be on his way. Instead, he took the carafe from the coffeemaker and brought it over to the sink to fill it with water.

His hand brushed against her arm as he reached for the tap. The contact was obviously accidental, as his hastily mumbled apology attested, and yet the fleeting contact stirred unwelcome memories, unwanted yearnings.

She wiped a soapy sponge around the inside of a bowl and fought back the unexpected sting of tears. This was exactly why she’d stayed away for so long. Because being with Nick inevitably made her feel things she didn’t want to feel, want things she’d always known she could never have.

Still, she hadn’t expected the pain to be so raw, the longing so intense. It had been eighteen years, and yet she still couldn’t forget how it felt to be in his arms. She couldn’t forget the hopes and dreams they’d briefly shared. And she couldn’t forget, had never forgotten, the overwhelming emptiness that had nearly consumed her when all of those hopes and dreams had fallen apart.

He measured coffee grounds into the filter as Jessica fought to get her emotions under control. She was more tempted than she wanted to admit to get into her car and head back to New York. And maybe she would have, except she refused to give him the satisfaction of doing what he so obviously expected.

After he’d set the coffee to perk, he picked up a tea towel and began drying the dishes she’d set in the drainer. “There is a dishwasher,” he said, indicating the appliance beside the sink.

She shrugged. “There weren’t that many, and I didn’t have anything else to do.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes, but with each second that passed, she was more aware of him beside her. The scent of him—not a cologne or aftershave, but the natural male essence of him; the heat emanating from his body, a body that had once merged with hers as if they were two halves of a whole, each incomplete without the other.

He’d once been everything to her, and when she’d lost him, she’d lost everything.

She rinsed the last dish, set it in the rack, then drained the soapy water.

“Coffee’s ready,” Nick said.

She hesitated to accept the implied invitation. The last thing she wanted was to spend any more time than was absolutely necessary in Nick’s company. But after so many years of avoidance, maybe it was past time they did learn to coexist with one another again. Maybe she needed to face those memories to get past them.

So she nodded her head and said, “Coffee sounds good.”

He grabbed two mugs from the cupboard, filled them both with the fresh brew, and passed one to her.

“Thanks.” She moved to the refrigerator to get the cream, then carried it to the table. She added a generous splash to her cup along with a heaping teaspoon of sugar.

Nick took his own mug and pulled out the empty chair across from her. She noticed that he drank his coffee black.

She also noticed, as it was his left hand wrapped around the mug, that his wedding ring was gone. The last time she’d been home, he’d worn a simple gold band on his third finger and a gorgeous blonde on his arm. She wondered at the absence of both, and more so, why it mattered.

“How long were you planning on staying in Pinehurst?” Nick asked. “A couple of days? A week?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have some hotshot job you need to get back to?”

She knew he was baiting her, but forced herself to respond coolly. “Yes, I have a job. But even hotshot attorneys are entitled to days off.”

“I’m sure they are,” he agreed. “Except that you don’t strike me as the type of woman to take any.”

And she never had before. In all the years she’d been at Dawson, Murray & Neale, she’d never taken a single personal day or sick day. Still, it rankled that he’d guessed this about her.

“What type of woman do I strike you as?” she challenged.

“Ambitious. Focused. Committed.”

She could be all of those things—had been all of those things. But lately she’d started to question her ambitions, lose her focus. And although nothing could have kept her away from Pinehurst after she’d learned of Caleb’s accident, she couldn’t deny that she was hoping a few days away from her job would give her a chance to reevaluate her choices, her life.

“Except that dropping everything to come back here seems both reckless and impulsive,” Nick continued, then he smiled. “Which almost reminds me of the girl I used to know.”

The smile was her first real glimpse of the Nick she remembered—the carefree boy who’d laughed easily and had made her laugh. If she’d been reckless and impulsive, it was because she’d been with him, because she’d trusted him implicitly and loved him completely.

“I’m not that girl anymore. I haven’t been for a long time.”

“I think you haven’t let yourself be.”

She shook her head, even though she knew there was some truth in what he’d said. She’d gone to great lengths to build an orderly and structured life for herself, because she was afraid of the impulses that had led her into his arms and terrified of the emptiness that had almost overwhelmed her when he’d gone. “You don’t know anything about me or my life.”

“I know that you can change your appearance but not your nature. I know that beneath the fancy suit and cool disdain, your blood still runs hot and your heart still beats faster when I’m with you.”

She drained the last of her coffee, pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. “And I know that you’ve always been arrogant and delusional.”

She started to turn away, but he grabbed her arm. She felt a jolt of heat as his hand came into contact with her bare skin, and her heart leapt in response to the touch.

“I’m not imagining the way your pulse is racing right now,” he said.

“Let go of me.”

“That’s a mistake I made once before.”

She tugged her arm out of his grasp. “I didn’t come here to play games with you, Nick.”

“It doesn’t matter why you came,” he said. “It doesn’t matter that I don’t want you here. What matters is that there’s still a powerful chemistry between us.”

“Maybe it’s just animosity,” she shot back over her shoulder as she exited the room.

“There is that,” he agreed.

Nick watched her walk away, wondering what it was about her cool, hands-off attitude that made him want to put his hands all over her. Maybe it was lust, a need to sate the physical urges that had been denied too long.

But as much as he wanted to believe it could be that simple, he knew it wasn’t. Because he didn’t just want the mindless physical release of sex. He wanted Jessica.

It had been eighteen years since they’d been together. Eighteen years after only one night, and yet he’d never forgotten anything about her. A fact that had been obvious to his wife—now his ex-wife—when Jess had returned to Pinehurst six years earlier.

“Tell me about her,” Tina demanded.

Nick rubbed weary hands over his face. They’d just returned home from the cemetery after burying his mother and the last thing he wanted was to go another round with his obviously unhappy wife. “Who?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Jessica.”

He shrugged, deliberately casual. “She’s Kristin’s best friend.”

“I’m not interested in Kristin’s relationship with her, I’m interested in your relationship with her.”

“I’ve known Jess since she was seven years old.” He hoped the information would placate her, stop her from digging at the scab over old wounds.