“Really?” Sage’s eyes lit up as if he had just handed her keys
to a brand-new car. “That would be fantastic! I would
love
it.”
Maura avoided his gaze to look out the window, and he could
almost taste her resentment, as thick and bitter as bad coffee. When she finally
looked back at the pair of them, she offered up a small, tense smile.
“That would provide a good chance for the two of you to spend
some time together. If you do stick around, there are plenty of things to do
around here as well. Art galleries, restaurants, hundreds of miles of
cross-country ski trails. I’m sure you remember how lovely the canyon can be
when it has fresh powder. Of course, that’s what all the skiers love too, and
what brings them here in droves.”
It was another caustic dig, another reminder of what had
finally forced him to turn his back on Hope’s Crossing—his father’s final,
vicious betrayal and the gross misuse of land his mother had intended to leave
to him.
Eventually he would probably have to drive up to the ski resort
to see for himself how greed had destroyed his mother’s legacy. But not
today.
“We should go up for the Christmas Eve candlelight ski,” Sage
exclaimed. “We haven’t done that in a few years, have we, Mom? It’s so beautiful
to watch all the little flames dancing down the mountainside.”
“That sounds great,” Maura said.
Not to Jack. The last place he wanted to be on Christmas Eve
was up at the ski resort. He started to give some polite answer when his
attention was caught by someone else coming into the café. He couldn’t see the
man’s features from here when he turned away to speak to Dermot, but something
inside Jack froze.
He didn’t need to see him clearly to know who was currently
trying to push around the restaurant owner, despite the futility of anyone
thinking they could intimidate Dermot Caine.
His father.
The biggest son of a bitch who had ever lived.
Dermot cast a quick look in their direction and grabbed Harry’s
arm, obviously intent on steering him the opposite way.
“Hold your horses. Let me at least take my coat off, you daft
Irish fool.”
Those were the first words he had heard his father speak in
nearly two decades. He was taken completely by surprise at the twisted, complex
mix of emotions that washed over him like flood waters through a rain-parched
arroyo.
At the overloud voice, Maura turned around to follow the sound
of the commotion. When she turned around, he didn’t detect any hint of surprise
in her expression.
Was his father a regular at the cafe? He must be. He suddenly
remembered Maura’s reaction the night before when he had suggested they meet
here for breakfast, her initial hesitation and then the too-quick agreement. She
must have expected Harry to show up eventually.
This was a damn setup. He should have known.
What happened to her? When they were wild teenagers in love,
Maura had been his anchor, the only bright spot in a world that had never been
all that great but had completely fallen apart after his mother’s suicide. It
was obvious that sweet and loving girl had disappeared twenty years ago.
“Low,” he murmured.
She sipped at her tea again and gave him an innocent look that
didn’t fool him for a second. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re a liar now too?”
Sage looked back and forth between the two of them, trying to
interpret the simmer of tension, but Maura quickly distracted her. “The
Christmas Eve ski is always fun. What else would you like to do this year?”
“I always love the wagon rides they have through Snowflake
Canyon to look at the lights.”
“We can add that to the schedule,” Maura assured her.
They talked about other traditions, leaving Jack to simmer in
his frustration. He had known he would eventually have to see his father. He
just hadn’t expected it to be twelve hours after he arrived in town.
Dermot must have remembered the vast rift between him and his
father. To Jack’s relief, he had seated Harry in an area of the restaurant that
angled away from them, out of sight of their booth. At least he wouldn’t have to
come face-to-face with the man. Even so, any culinary anticipation for the
cafe’s much-vaunted French toast had turned to ashes in his gut.
A bleached-blond college-age kid with the slouchy dress and
manner of a ski bum brought their food over a few moments later, three plates
brimming with golden French toast with little crackly pieces of sugar-coated
fried dough and sliced almonds on top.
“Hey, Sage, Maura. Stranger Dude. Dermot’s tied up in the
kitchen for a while,” he explained. “He asked me to take care of you. So if you
need anything else, give me a shout-out.”
“Thanks, Logan.”
“How’s school?” Sage asked.
“Good. I think I made the dean’s list. I had a killer final in
statistics, but I think I aced it. You?”
“Pretty good. Not dean’s-list good, but I was happy with it.
Did you have Professor Lee for stats? I’ve got him next semester.”
“He’s brutal, man.”
“Hey, I might need a ride back to Boulder after the break. When
are you taking off?”
“Haven’t thought that far in advance. My first class isn’t
until ten-thirty the Monday school starts, so I might get in a few runs as soon
as the lifts open before I head back.”
“I’ll text you after New Year’s to figure things out.”
“Okay. Like I said, if you need anything, let me know.”
The conversation between the young people gave Jack a chance to
regain his perspective. It wasn’t Maura’s fault Harry ate breakfast at the café.
He had sensed something off in her reaction when he’d made the suggestion to eat
here the night before and should have pursued it.
Besides, he was an adult. He could certainly spend a few
minutes in the same restaurant with the man he despised. Yes, it had been petty
of her to set him up like that, but if he were going to hold a grudge, he had
bigger grievances against her. As far as he could see, there was no reason to
let Harry ruin a perfectly delicious breakfast.
“So we talked about cross-country skiing and sleigh rides and
Christmas Eve candlelight skis. What else do I need to see in Hope’s Crossing
while I’m here?” he asked Sage.
She launched into a long list of her favorite things to do in
town. By the time she finished, even
he
was thinking
maybe Hope’s Crossing wasn’t the purgatory he remembered.
“Sounds like you two have plenty to keep you busy until school
starts up again,” Maura said. She had only eaten about four or five bites of her
French toast and one nibble of the crispy bacon that accompanied it.
Sage suddenly looked stricken, as if she had only just
remembered that her mother might have expected to spend some of the holiday
break with her. “We could do a lot of this together, the three of us.”
There was no “three of us.” Just two people who had once loved
each other and the child they had created together.
“No, this will be good,” Maura assured her with a smile that
only looked slightly forced. “You know how busy I’m going to be up until
Christmas Eve and then the week after with all the holiday returns. This way I
won’t have to worry about you being bored while I’m stuck at the store.”
She checked her watch and set down her napkin. “Speaking of
busy, I probably need to run. Mornings are hectic in December. It seems like
everyone in town decides to take a coffee break at the same time and fit in a
little shopping too.”
The purpose of suggesting they meet for breakfast had been to
come to some sort of agreement on how their tangled relationship would proceed
from here. He wasn’t sure they had accomplished that particular goal, but they
seemed to have reached an accord of some sort, Harry’s unexpected presence
notwithstanding.
“Do you need some extra help with the rush?” Sage asked.
“You don’t need to come in,” Maura assured her. “You should
spend the day with your, er…with Jack while you have a chance.”
“Well, yeah, I want to. But to tell you the truth, I haven’t
had a chance to do any Christmas shopping yet, and I could use a little extra
money. I hate to dip into my college fund for presents if I don’t have to.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Jack assured her. “I’ve got plenty of
work to catch up on. Maybe we could always meet this evening.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Sage asked.
“Not at all.” The two of them didn’t need to spend twenty-four
hours a day together. It was probably better to take their interactions in small
doses while he was still adjusting to the idea of even
having
a daughter.
Besides, he didn’t want Maura to think he planned to monopolize
every moment with Sage while he was in Hope’s Crossing.
“In that case,” Maura said, her features a little more relaxed,
“I would love to have you work at the store today. We’ve been slammed the last
few days, and I’m sure Ruth could use help restocking.”
With that settled, they returned to their breakfast. He was
happy to see Maura eat a few more bites and finish off the citrus slices that
came with it. When breakfast was over, they wrangled for a moment over the bill,
but he solved the issue by taking his credit card and the ticket to the cash
register, leaving her to glower after him.
“I’ll walk you over to the store,” he said to the two of them
after signing the credit card receipt handed him by the snowboarding academic.
“The only place I could find to park was in that alley behind your store.”
“Parking is our big problem downtown, as you have probably
figured out. The Downtown Merchants’ Alliance is talking about building a big
parking structure a block to the west, if we can do it in an aesthetically
pleasing way that fits in with the rest of the town.”
After leaving the café, they walked up half a block to the
light so they could cross the street. As he looked up the length of Main Street,
he was struck again by the charm of the town, with electrified reproductions of
historic gas lamps lining the street and brick-paved sidewalks instead of
concrete. The town leaders seemed to have gone to a great deal of trouble to
manage the growth in that pleasing way Maura was talking about that stayed true
to its character, with none of the jumble of styles so many communities adopted
by default.
Beneath the wooden sign reading Dog-Eared Books & Brew, he
held the door open for the two women and stepped inside the welcoming warmth to
say goodbye to Sage.
“What time do you think you’ll be free for dinner?”
“I don’t know. Can you give me a second, though, before we
figure out details? I’ve had to pee since before Logan brought our breakfast,
and I’m not sure I can wait even five more minutes.”
“Uh, sure.”
She gave him a grateful smile and hurried to the back of the
store, leaving him to watch with bemusement at her abrupt exit.
Maura gave a short laugh. “That’s Sage for you. Sorry about
that. When she was a little girl, I always had to remind her to take a minute
and visit the bathroom. She tended to hold it until the very last second,
because she didn’t want to bother wasting time with such inconsequential things
when she could be creating a masterpiece skyscraper out of blocks or redesigning
her Barbie house to make better use of the available space.”
He could almost picture her, dark curls flying, green eyes
earnest, that chin they shared set with determination. A hard kernel of regret
seemed to be lodged somewhere in his chest. He had missed so much.
Everything.
Ballet recitals and bedtime stories and
soccer games.
This whole thing was so surreal. He had always told himself he
didn’t want or need a family. His own childhood had been so tumultuous, marked
by his mother’s mental chaos and Harry’s increasing impatience and frustration
and his subsequent cold distance. In his mind, family was turmoil and pain.
Jack had always just figured that since he didn’t have the
desire—or the necessary skills—to be a father, he was better off just avoiding
that eventuality altogether. That had been one of the things that had drawn him
to Kari, her insistence that her career mattered too much for her to derail it
with a side trip on the Mommy Track.
Mere months into their marriage, she’d done a rapid about-face
and started buying baby magazines and comparing crib specifications. Even before
that, he’d known their marriage had been a mistake. She hated his travel and his
long hours, she couldn’t stand his friends, she started drinking more than she
ever had when they were dating.
Bringing a child into the middle of something that was already
so shaky would have been a disaster. They started counseling, but when he found
out she had stopped taking her birth control pills despite his entreaties that
they at least give the counseling a chance to work, he had started sleeping on
the sofa in his office.
She filed for divorce two weeks later and ended up married to
another attorney in her office a month after the decree came down.
Yeah, he had always figured he and kids wouldn’t be a good mix.
But these little glimpses into Sage’s childhood filled him with poignant
regret.
Nothing he could do about that now. He realized that Maura was
watching him warily and he forced himself to smile. “I like your place.”
She tilted her head, studying him as if to gauge his sincerity,
and he was struck again by her fragile beauty. With that sadness that never
quite left her eyes, she made a man want to wrap his arms around her, tuck her
up against his side and promise to take care of her forever.
Not him, of course. He was long past his
knight-in-shining-armor phase.
“Thanks,” she finally said. “I like it too. It’s been a work in
progress the last five or six years, but I think I’ve finally arranged things
the way I like.”