Dearly Beloved (13 page)

Jennie had discovered the spot soon after arriving the month before to spend the semester at nearby Hillshire University, and she went there often to be alone with her thoughts.

Her mother had already been dead for two years at that point, while Gran was growing weak from the heart disease that had always plagued her and Gramps was terribly concerned over her. Jennie had felt guilty leaving Laura alone with their failing grandparents in Quincy while she went off to England but Laura had insisted that she go.

“After all, one of us has to go to college and see the world, and it’s not going to be me,” her twin had pointed out cheerfully. Laura had only lasted a semester at a community college in southern Massachusetts before dropping out to become a bartender in Cambridge, much to their grandparents’ dismay.

It was while Jennie was overseas, in fact, that Laura had started dating Brian. Jennie has always thought that if she had been around, her sister never would have fallen for him. She would have glimpsed his dark side and could have talked Laura out of it. By the time she’d returned to the states, Laura was engaged and it was too late for Jennie to do much but paste on a smile and tell her sister she was happy for her.

But even though her absence had, in her opinion, resulted in a disastrous relationship for her twin, Jennie wouldn’t have traded England for anything. If she hadn’t gone, she would never have met Harry.

Then again,
she thinks wistfully now,
if you hadn’t met Harry, he would still probably be alive . . .

Jennie had found England quaint but so foreign that she couldn’t seem to shake her homesickness during those early days. Maybe that was why she had latched so eagerly onto Harry from the start. It wasn’t like her to flirt with a stranger; but when he’d told her that he thought her sketch was terrific, she’d ripped it out of her pad and handed it to him.

“Hey, thanks! How much do I owe you?”

She’d shrugged. “How about just a cup of coffee?”

That easy grin had spread over his handsome face and he’d said, “Sure. Come on. Only it’ll probably have to be tea. You know . . . when in Rome.”

It turned out that Harry was also spending the semester at Hillshire. He was from a small town on the Oregon coast, and he, too, was homesick. Even that first day, as he’d enthusiastically told Jennie about his hometown, and how he couldn’t wait to go back, she’d found herself feeling oddly regretful.

After all, Oregon was on the opposite side of the country from Boston. Jennie had no intention of leaving the northeast, not with Gran and Gramps doing so poorly. And the way he was talking about his friends and family back home, Harry didn’t seem like the type who’d relocate, either.

Looking back, Jennie never ceases to be amazed that even in those first moments she’d spent with Harry, she’d had hopes of a permanent relationship.

They’d been inseparable during that semester in England. And when it was over, they’d prolonged their time together, spending the summer traveling through Europe together. Too soon, it was August and time to head back to the States. Harry had spent several days with Jennie in Boston before flying back to the west coast to finish his senior year.

She hadn’t seen him until Christmas break, when she’d flown out to visit him. There, she had seen how truly connected Harry was to the scenic Oregon town and to his large, warm family that included five brothers and sisters. And there, Jennie had realized that she was deeply in love with him and couldn’t bear to be without him.

Harry had proposed to her on Christmas Eve, and she had fiercely wanted to accept. But she thought of Laura, who was planning a spring wedding to Brian—they had already moved into an apartment on the Cape together. And she thought of her grandparents, both of them old and feeble and Gran so sick. They couldn’t be left alone. And Jennie had already had her taste of freedom. It was Laura’s turn, now.

So she’d told Harry she couldn’t marry him. She couldn’t leave Boston, and she didn’t expect him to leave his home, either.

The rest of her visit was subdued. There wasn’t much for them to say to each other. Jennie had managed to fight back the tears until she boarded the plane back to Boston. Then, knowing she would probably never see Harry again, she had spent the entire five-hour flight sobbing miserably.

When she’d walked heavily into the familiar old house in Quincy, though, her grandfather had said, “Harry called and he wants you to call him the moment you get in.”

Reluctantly Jennie had dialed the familiar number, not wanting to hear his voice, unable to bear the thought that it was over between them.

“Jen?” he’d said breathlessly when he’d answered the phone. “I need you to do me a huge favor.”

“What is it?” she’d asked dully.

“Find me an apartment for June first. One that’s cheap and close to your grandparents’ house.”

“You want to spend the summer here?” she’d asked slowly. She forced herself to get past the tingle of excitement at the thought of seeing him again, to be realistic. Prolonging the inevitable would only be more painful in the end. “But Harry, I don’t think that’s a good idea. We both know you’d just have to leave again in the fall, to go back to law school in Oregon.”

“What, there aren’t any law schools in Massachusetts?”

Her heart had instantly jump-started as she realized what he was saying. “Harry, you can’t mean you’re moving to Boston,” she’d protested weakly.

“I can’t? Why not? Don’t you want to marry me?”

The lump that rose in her throat was so enormous she couldn’t speak for a moment. Then, in a strangled voice, she’d said, “I want to marry you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. But I can’t—”

“What? You can’t marry me?”

“I can’t leave Gran and Gramps,” she’d said in a whisper, casting a glance over her shoulder toward the living room, where her grandparents were watching “Wheel of Fortune.” “I already told you. They took care of us when we had no one else. Now it’s my turn to be there for them.”

“Well, I’ll be there for them, too. Okay?”

She’d paused, letting it sink in. Then she’d said, in disbelief, “You’d actually leave your family and friends and your hometown for me?”

“I love you, Jen. And yes, I can leave my family and friends and my hometown. It’s you I can’t leave.”

“Do you promise?” she’d asked, her voice choked with tears. All her life, she’d been abandoned by the people she loved. First her father. Then Melanie. Then her mother. Now even Laura had left, caught up in a new life.

“I promise, Jen,” Harry had said. “I’ll never leave you. Never.”

Now, as she stares out over the gray Atlantic, his words echoing in her mind, she feels something wet on her cheeks.

Raindrops . . .

And tears.

L
ying flat on her stomach, Laura reaches under the couch to retrieve the can of furniture polish that had rolled when she’d dropped it.

Her fingers find something small and round, and she pulls out a dust-covered silver hoop earring she’d lost awhile back. She’d accused Jennie of borrowing it without asking, actually . . . not that she can imagine her twin wearing jewelry this flashy, come to think of it.

No, Jennie only wears the small gold-and-diamond studs that Harry had once given her, when she bothers to wear earrings at all.

Laura sets the silver hoop on the coffee table, which is half-coated in a white film of lemon-scented polish, and reaches under the couch again.

The doorbell rings just as her hand closes around the can of Pledge.

Frowning, Laura pulls it out, scrambles to her feet, and heads for the door, wondering who can be dropping by in the middle of a rainy Saturday afternoon.

“Hi, Laura.”

“Keegan!” she says, surprised to see him standing in the hall. “What’s up?”

He shrugs. “I just wondered—”

“Jennie’s not here,” she tells him, wondering how her sister can possibly resist him. His shoulders are incredibly broad beneath that worn jean jacket and gray sweatshirt he’s wearing, and his face is so handsome, with a generous mouth and sculpted bone structure that might look
too
pretty on someone else but that’s masculine on Keegan.

“She’s not here? Where is she?” He doesn’t look like he believes her, and Laura can’t blame him. After all, every time he’s called lately—which has been often—Jennie has made her lie and say she’s out.

“She’s away for the weekend.”

“Oh, yeah? Where’d she go?” Keegan’s sharp eyes are looking over Laura’s shoulder, as if he’s searching for clues that Jennie really is here.

“I’m telling the truth, Keegan,” Laura says. “She really is away.”

Disappointment settles over his features. “Oh. Where’d she go?” he repeats.

“To Tide Island.”

“Tide Island? What’s she doing out there?”

“I won a free weekend at some inn there, but I can’t go because Shawn—he’s the guy I’m seeing—is coming home from Japan this weekend. In fact,” she checks her watch, “I have to leave for the airport in about twenty minutes to pick him up and I need to finish cleaning the apartment first, so . . .”

“
You’re
cleaning?” He looks suspiciously at her. “Are you sure you’re not Jennie?”

She rolls her eyes. “Very funny.”

“No offense, Laura, but you’re not exactly the world’s best housekeeper.”

“Well, Shawn’s pretty whipped on me, and I don’t want to scare him away, you know?” She brandishes her can of Pledge. “Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .”

“Wait. What about this free trip to Tide Island?”

“What about it?”

“How’d you win it?”

“I bought a sweepstakes ticket at Stop and Shop. It was for a good cause. The New England Children’s Leukemia Society.”

“Never heard of it.” Keegan frowns. “You wouldn’t still have that ticket around, would you?”

“Are you kidding? I’m lucky if I manage to hang onto my purse. You know me—hey, wait, you know what? I do have the ticket!”

“You do?”

“Yeah . . . I wrote Shawn’s flight number on the back of it. I remember because the day he called to tell me he was coming home was the same day I found out I won the sweepstakes and I had to pull out the ticket to confirm the number. It’s stuck to the fridge with a magnet so I wouldn’t lose it.” She’s halfway to the kitchen, followed by Keegan, before she turns to look back at him, puzzled. “Why do you want it?”

“Because I’ve never heard of the New England Children’s Leukemia Society, that’s why. And a friend of mine at work—do you remember Buddy?” At her nod, he continues, “Well, he’s working on a task force to uncover a ring of bogus charity collectors that’s operating in the area.”

“What, you think the sweepstakes was a scam?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well, it’s definitely real because they awarded the prize.” Laura continues to the kitchen, plucks the ticket from beneath a “Cheers” magnet on the refrigerator door, and hands it to Keegan.

“That doesn’t mean the sweepstakes was legitimate, Laura. They probably collected thousands of dollars selling tickets. A free weekend at an inn—particularly on Tide Island in the middle of winter—only costs a few hundred at most. How do you know the rest of the money really went to charity?”

“I don’t.” She shrugs, then says, “Hey, what are you doing with that?” as Keegan starts to tuck the ticket into his jacket pocket.

“I’m giving it to Buddy. He’ll probably want to check it out.”

“Well, at least let me copy Shawn’s flight information off the back.” She grabs a pen from the table and writes the information on a napkin, then hands the ticket back to Keegan. “Here, it’s all yours now.”

“Thanks. So, how’s Jennie doing?”

“She’s all right. You know . . .”

“No, I don’t. I haven’t talked to her in weeks.”

“Well, she thinks it’s better that way.”

“Oh, really? And why is that?”

“Because if she talks to you, she might not be able to stay away from you.”

His face clouds over. “Well, what I want to know is why she thinks she has to stay away in the first place.”

“Come on, Keegan,” Laura says, even though she’s wondering the same thing. “You guys are broken up. Forget about her.”

“I can’t,” he says, and she’s startled by the raw pain in his voice. “I keep trying, but . . . I don’t know, maybe if I could understand why . . .”

Laura hesitates. She wants, more than anything, to tell Keegan what had happened to Jennie three years ago. In her opinion, her sister should have at least explained it to him—that because of her ordeal, she doesn’t want to love a cop. That she’s afraid of losing him to violent death. Just like she’d lost her father . . .

And just like she’d lost Harry . . .

But Laura clamps her mouth shut. It’s not up to her to tell Keegan why Jennie left him. She’d promised her sister that she wouldn’t . . .

And besides, she realizes, glancing at her watch—there’s no time to get into it now.

She wants to be there when Shawn walks off the plane, and Saturday traffic is always heavy around Logan.

So she just shrugs and tells him, “Look, Keegan, I’m very sorry about you and Jen, but that’s really between the two of you. I don’t like to get involved in her personal life.”

He gives her a look that says
since when?
But he simply nods and starts back toward the front door.

He pauses, his hand on the knob, and turns back to Laura.

“Just for the record,” he says quietly, “I really love her. And I’m not going to give up. Will you tell her that for me?”

Laura nods.

But even as the door closes behind him, she fights the urge to run after him, to tell him the truth about Jennie.

And if she weren’t running so late, she would do it.

But I will,
she promises herself.
Next time I get the opportunity, I’ll tell him, no matter what Jennie says. It’s for her own good.

She tucks the napkin containing Shawn’s flight information into the back pocket of her jeans and thinks again about that sweepstakes ticket.

Now that Keegan has planted the idea that the charity might have been a fraud, she finds herself going back over what happened that afternoon in the Stop and Shop parking lot.