See Jane Fall (8 page)

It was one large open space, with wooden
columns scattered throughout the room at intervals and brightly
covered throw rugs covering parts of the wooden floor. Bookcases
and windows lined the walls from floor to ceiling to her right, and
there were jauntily upholstered couches and chairs, mismatched,
waiting for a reader to find a book and get comfortable. Small,
ceramic tiled bistro tables, each with two or three chairs, were
scattered in cheerful bunches, and a shiny copper coffee bar with
six stools took up most of the wall to her left.

Several of the tables and couches were
occupied, as people of all ages sipped tea or coffee and flipped
through newspapers, magazines and books. Soft music was piped in
too, and Jane recognized the mellow voice of James Taylor singing
about sweet baby James, which Jane’s mother had always changed to
Rockabye, sweet baby Jane.

Walking into the Prairie Dawn felt like an
embrace, like walking into a dream, like connecting with the
past…and Jane breathed in deeply, smelling the books and the coffee
beans, profoundly content with her decision to get out of bed and
go on a quest for warm milk.

A petite, redheaded barista stood behind the
bar with her elbows on the counter, deep in conversation with a
blond man sitting on a stool at the end of the counter. They were
practically head to head, and Jane didn’t wish to disturb their
conversation, so she pulled out a stool two down from where he
sat.

The redhead looked over at Jane and
smiled.

“We have a visitor, Paul.”

The blond man looked over at Jane and smiled
too.

“From Boston, no less.”

Jane raised her eyebrows.

The woman pointed to her t-shirt and the man
pointed to her cap at the same time.

“Originally San Francisco. Then Boston,”
Jane admitted. “Now New York.”

The woman moved to stand in front of Jane
and offered her hand. “Maggie Campbell.”

“Jane. Jane Mays.” She shook Maggie’s hand
and turned to Paul, who gestured to the stool beside Jane. She
nodded, and he moved over to sit next to her.

“Paul Johansson.”

“Heya,” Jane offered, smiling at each of
them in turn.

“Heya!” Paul looked at Maggie and smiled.
“Only one family in Gardiner greets everyone with ‘Heya.’ Which of
the Lindstroms were you hanging out with today?”

“Lars.”

“You’re the assistant on the magazine
shoot,” said Paul.

“What am I thinking right now?” Jane asked
in a rush, eyes twinkling.

Paul look confused.

“Well, you must be clairvoyant!”

Paul chuckled. “Nothing so glamorous. Best
friend to Lars.”

“Ahhhh. Just-Lars’s best friend.”

“So you work with Samara Amaya,” said
Maggie, and Jane picked up on a soft burr. Irish maybe, or
Scottish. “Do you want coffee?”

“Um, yes, I do. And no I don’t. This is a
little strange, but I was wondering if I could have some warmed
milk?”

“Havin’ trouble sleepin’?”

“A little.”

“Comin’ right up, then. Want a wee bit o’
sugar too?”

“Sure, Maggie, thanks.”

“Samara Amaya dated the Vikings QB, didn’t
she? Last year? Year before?”

Jane nodded at Paul. “It was brief. But,
yes, they met in Manhattan and dated for a few weeks. The media
makes a lot more out of these things.”

“Huh. Vikings fans around here were pretty
steamed when she dumped him. Blamed her for the next two—”

“Oh, she didn’t actually—” Jane wasn’t
comfortable talking about Samara, but it was a bad habit that she
felt the need to clear Samara’s name every chance she got.

Maggie interrupted smoothly, giving Paul a
look. “Speakin’ of steamed, you want this milk boiled or steamed,
Jane? I’m thinkin’ steamed, right?”

Jane nodded at Maggie gratefully, then
turned to Paul. “Think about if you went on a date with somebody,
and it was nice, so you went on another, and it was nice again.
But, then he went home. And home was a six-hour plane ride away.
And you realized you were in New York and he was in Minneapolis,
and you were both on the road all the time, so as much as you
enjoyed each other, well, it just probably wasn’t going to work
out. So, you broke it off. And since it didn’t hurt either of you
very much, you knew it probably wasn’t meant to be.” She tilted her
head to the side and glanced at Maggie, who set a steaming mug on
the counter in front of Jane. “But, suddenly there are all of these
pictures of you together, magazines are Photoshopping wedding
dresses on you, and Cartier calls to offer you whatever diamond
engagement ring you want. I mean, you were just a girl who went on
a couple of dates with a guy. The world isn’t supposed to explode
over that.”

Maggie rested her elbows on the counter,
hanging on Jane’s every word. “Is that what happened?”

Jane grinned and shook her head. “No. But,
isn’t that a nice story?”

Maggie smiled and Paul chuckled.

“What d’you do for her, then?” asked
Maggie.

Jane picked up her mug and blew over the
top.
Just get it over with.
“I’m her personal assistant.
And, um, her cousin.”

She looked down at the mug, smiling at the
tiny brown grains of nutmeg and cinnamon Maggie had sprinkled over
the top and fashioned into a heart. Finally she took a sip and let
the hot sweet, creamy goodness fall scalding down her throat.
“Mmmm.”

By the time she looked up again, they were
both staring at her, but composed.

“Her cousin. What was it like growin’ up
together?” Maggie asked.

Jane said the words by heart. “Like any
other cousins. We loved each other. We hated each other. We watched
90210
and went for ice cream and opened our presents
together on Christmas morning.” She blew on the hot milk again,
deciding to add her own addendum this time. “I know she’s a
supermodel. But, to me she’s still just Sara.”

“Is her name really Sara?”

Jane nodded at Maggie. “Sara Mays.”

“
Ahhhh.
Sara Mays. Samara Amaya.
I see.”

“No offense, but do you two mind if we get
back to web dating 101?” Paul gestured to Maggie for a refill,
which she handily provided, pouring a cup for herself as well.
“Jane, chime in if you want.”

Maggie leaned closer to Jane. “We were
talkin’ about Internet datin’ before you sat down. Paul’s met
someone!”

They didn’t want to talk about Samara. Well,
wow! This is new…and wonderful! Regular people talking about
regular things!

Jane turned to Paul with a delighted smile.
“You met someone online?”

Before he could answer Maggie whispered
again, “And, how’s this for a coincidence, Jane? She’s from
Connecticut
!”

Jane had never actually seen someone so
excited about
Connecticut
. Jane looked back and forth
between them. “What am I not getting here?”

“Connecticut! It’s between New York and
Boston, isn’t it? Where you’re from? It’s in the middle, isn’t it?
You been there?”

“Sure, a little. Samara has friends in
Westport and I know a few people in Connecticut too. Friends from
college, mostly. It’s pretty. What town is she in?”

Maggie beamed. “Mystic! Do you know it?”

“I do,” answered Jane. “Not well, but I’ve
been. It’s on the coast. Very picturesque. They have, um, an
old-fashioned village there. And great seafood. And an aquarium, I
think. Sailboats. Old houses. Sort of quintessential New England.
Yeah, I remember it. A little.”

Maggie beamed at Paul, and he gave her a
look.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jane looked back
and forth between them.

Paul nodded.

“Why’d you decide to get to know someone
from Connecticut and not closer?”

“Maggie meddled,” Paul blurted out. “She set
up the profile and she wasn’t totally clear about where I
lived.”

Maggie cringed. “I thought the question
asked where he was
from
.”

“And you’re from…?”

“Maine. Originally.” Paul rolled his eyes at
his friend.

“So it fed you girls from New England. Huh.
You must have liked her a lot out of the gate,” said Jane, “to get
to know her from so far away. Once you realized the distance.”

Paul smiled at Jane and she saw the sudden
warmth infuse his blue eyes. “You could say that.”

“
I
could say that? Look at you.
You’re a goner.”

“I like her,” he said softly. “I look
forward to her e-mails and we’re reading a book together. We talk
about our lives, work, whatever, you know? I tell her everything
lately. She’s a teacher and I’m a principal so we talk about our
students, our families, what we like to do on the weekends. Yeah, I
like her.”

“You like her a lot. Sounds like you’re
ready for the next step,” said Jane. “When’re you going to meet
her? Up close and personal? You know,
in
person
?”

“Heck, I’d love to meet her. But, I can’t
just pick up and go to Connecticut. I have commitments here.”

Jane took another sip of the now-cooling
milk, feeling the warmth travel all the way down to her tummy. It
was working. She was feeling warmer and mellower, but she liked
Maggie and Paul and loved talking about regular people and their
regular lives. She wasn’t ready to say good-night yet.

“You
really
like her?”

Paul nodded.

“Time to visit Connecticut,” said Jane
gently.

“You think?”

Jane shrugged. “Don’t you have a break
coming up? A few days off when you could make a quick trip?”

“Columbus Day’s a four-day weekend.”

“There you go.” She thought of Ben dumping
her so cruelly when Samara arrived in Cairo. If she’d have known
how fickle he was, she might have expected things to go south, and
his rejection wouldn’t have hurt her so much. “Probably best not to
invest any more of yourself until you meet her, you know? Anyway,
that’s what
I
think.”

“Aye, the lass has some good advice, I
think.” Maggie winked at Jane.

“May as well put your cards on the table,
Paul.”

Paul bit his lower lip, nodding. “Guess
so.”

She downed the rest of her warm milk, and
slid off the stool. “What do I owe you?”

Paul took out his wallet and put five
dollars on the counter. “Let me get it. In thanks for the
advice.”

“Cool. Thank you, Paul. And good luck. I’m
off to bed, folks.”

“And give Lars hell tomorrow, Jane.” Paul
winked at her.

“Yeah?”

“Sure. Lars thinks he’s the cat’s meow.”

“Does he?”

“Aw, you know. The girls from the park…the
ones who pass through.”

She didn’t know. Her heart clutched
painfully and she looked down. Of course. He was so good looking.
Too good looking. He probably had his pick of the tourists that
came into town. It shouldn’t matter to her. She hated it that it
did.

“Oh, shut up, Paul. Lars is a
good
man, Jane. An eye for the ladies, but what single man doesn’t?
More
than an eye? Neither Paul nor I can say.”

“We’re good friends, Mags. He’s certainly
shared—”

“Gossipin’ just like I thought. Our Lars
just needs to meet the right woman. That’s all it is. The right
woman changes everythin’.” She tilted her head to the side, smiling
at Jane. “Do you play euchre, Jane?”

“Euchre?”

“Aye. It’s grand. As long as you’re in town,
come play with us. With Lars workin’ so hard on your group, we need
a fourth.”

“Who’s the third?”

“Lars’s brother.” Was it Jane’s imagination
or did Maggie’s cheeks just turn a little pink? “Nils.”

“His brother?”

“Aye. ’Twill be fun. Tomorrow night.
Seven-thirty, and all the warm milk you like.”

Jane smiled. Regular people doing regular
things. She was never invited to do regular things with regular
people.

“Thanks. I’ll be here.”

“See you then, Jane.”

Jane walked home slowly, warm and drowsy
from the cool, fresh air and warm milk filling her belly, but she
couldn’t shake Paul’s words
: the cat’s meow…the ones who pass
through
.

She couldn’t shake the disappointment she
felt in learning that Lars was a player.

If that’s what Lars was all about, Jane had
best steer clear of him or she’d be in for some heartbreak when
Samara hit town, because Samara specialized in flings. And she
always got what she wanted. Always. Regardless of the collateral
damage. And Jane wasn’t interested in another Ben Abaz
situation.

It was probably just that she was overtired,
but she felt so sad, hot tears gathered in her eyes as she pulled
the covers over her body and settled her head on the pillow. He
hadn’t treated her like Samara Amaya’s ugly-duckling cousin, and it
felt unusual and special. She’d had such a good time with him and
he had seemed so…different.

But, he’s not Jane. He’s not different.

She flipped to her side, staring at the seam
of light under the bathroom door, willing herself not to think
about him anymore. But, try as she might, her last thought as her
eyes drifted closed was of Lars holding her hand in the car, and
she moved that hand to rest on her chest, curled up longingly
against her heart.

CHAPTER 3

Lars stood in the doorway of the second
bedroom watching Jane sort and organize shoes, jewelry and
clothing, baffled that any one person could possible require so
much
stuff
for a four-day stay. It was ridiculously
self-indulgent and he wasn’t impressed.

Jane said she needed about twenty more
minutes and then she’d be done. He checked his watch as he headed
into the living room to wait for her, plopping down on the
couch.

She seemed a little different this morning,
but he couldn’t put his finger on how. More professional, more
businesslike, yesterday’s repartee missing from their exchanges.
She was perfectly friendly but reserved; he couldn’t account for
the change, but the longer it went on, the more he missed the warm,
minx-y Jane from yesterday.