The Heart Remembers (13 page)

That wasn't exactly what Jake wanted to hear, but he saw her point. All of the other realities of his life—and their relationship—got pretty fuzzy for him, too, when they kissed.

“So…no more kissing—is that what you're
saying?” He tried for a teasing tone but didn't quite pull it off.

“No, of course not. It's just that…well, I think we need to keep it in perspective, that's all.”

He wondered if she had any idea just what she was asking. Maintaining his perspective—let alone his equilibrium—around Maggie was almost impossible. But if that's what she wanted, he'd give it his best shot.

With a crooked grin, he draped his arm casually around her shoulders, though he felt anything but casual. “How about the old arm around the shoulder? Is that out of bounds, too?”

“No.” She snuggled close and pulled her legs up beside her as Jake set the swing rocking with a push of his toe.

It was sweet agony to have her cuddled so close, but he'd get through this. He had to.

He was grateful when Maggie switched the focus.

“Your dad seemed pleased about the fair Sunday.”

“He was. He spent the rest of the afternoon making a list of supplies. I drove him over to Bangor to pick up everything yesterday. He's happy as a clam—or should I say lobster, here in Maine?—now that he's got a project. I have to practically force him to stop every night. You were
right about him needing to have something to do that would make him feel worthwhile. And you were right about something else, too.”

She turned to look up at him. “What?”

“Your idea to talk to Dad about school. I tried it Monday night. I think he was a little shocked, but he did open up. And offered some pretty good advice along the way, I might add. Thanks to him, I think I'm finally starting to connect with one of my problem students.”

“Really?” Her eyes were bright, her smile warm and genuine. “I'm so glad, Jake! What did he suggest?” She listened as he recapped his father's suggestion. “And it's working?”

“So far. I invited Paul—that's the student's name—to meet me in the canteen for coffee yesterday. I wasn't sure he'd come, but he did. He hasn't said much yet, but I picked up enough to suspect there was a major trauma of some sort in his life shortly before he left for school. Something to do with his parents, I think. I invited him to meet me again tomorrow between classes, and I'm hoping he'll come. I'd like to help him through this, whatever it is, if I can.”

“Did you tell your father?”

He chuckled. “You've heard the phrase, ‘Pleased as punch'?”

Maggie smiled and settled back against Jake.
“That's good. I'm glad you two are getting along better.”

“We still have a long way to go.”

“But at least you're moving in the right direction.”

They swung in silence for a few minutes, her head nestled on his shoulder, the muffled night sounds peaceful and soothing. When Jake finally spoke, his voice was close to her ear.

“It's good to have you in my arms again, Maggie.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“I know you need some time. And I'm not trying to rush you. But I think you know where I hope this is heading.”

“Yes. I do. But there are…issues.”

“You mean beyond the obvious?”

She knew he was referring to her struggle to overcome lingering doubts about his reliability and honor, but she hadn't planned to get into a heavy discussion tonight. There was one issue in particular that had to be discussed sooner or later, though, and sooner was probably better from a self-preservation standpoint. Jake wasn't going to like what she had to say. In fact, he might dislike it enough to reconsider his feelings. But it would be better to know that now, before she got any more involved.

“Yes. You mentioned once that you wanted a family. The thing is, I've already had a family, Jake. I don't regret a minute of it, but it's a demanding job, and I've spent the last twelve years doing it. So much of my adult life has been spent doing what I
had
to do. Now I want to focus on the things I
want
to do for a while. Like go to Europe, pursue my art.” She paused and ran her finger over the crease in her slacks. “I guess that sounds selfish, doesn't it?”

“No.
Selfish
is hardly a word I would use to describe you.”

She leaned away and looked up at him in the dim light, trying to read his eyes. “Do you understand how I feel?”

“The truth? It's not exactly what I wanted to hear. But I do understand.” He stroked her cheek and gave her a rueful smile. “Our timing always seems to be off, doesn't it? First you were saddled with responsibilities that tied you down. Now you're free, and I'm saddled with responsibilities that tie me down. And as for a family—it would be different this time, you know. Two people sharing the responsibility for one child is a whole lot easier than one person trying to raise two children.”

“I can accept that in theory. But life has a way of tearing theories to shreds. And plans can fall apart in the blink of an eye. Our own broken engagement
is one example of that. And your presence here in Maine was another. Three years ago, if someone had told you you'd end up being a land-bound teacher, sharing a cottage with your father in rural Maine, I have a feeling you'd have laughed in their face.”

“I can't argue with that. Plans do change. So do priorities. Three years ago, I didn't have all that much interest in starting a family.”

Meaning he did now.

Maggie felt a wave of despair sweep over her. Why did the choices have to be so difficult? Twelve years ago, her choice had been a family or Jake. Now it seemed that it might come down to Jake and a family—or no Jake. That thought chilled her, but she saw no way around it. Not unless she gave up her own dreams. And she'd done that once. She couldn't do it again—not even for Jake.

“I'm sorry, Jake.” She tugged her sweater tighter as a chill swept over her. “I do understand your desire for a family. It's a beautiful thing, raising children, watching them develop and grow and become caring, responsible adults. But I—I can't make any promises. Maybe in a year or two I'll feel differently, but right now I'm just not ready to even consider it.”

Jake brushed his fingers up and down her arm, the parallel grooves on his forehead deepening.
He'd been so caught up in his rediscovery of Maggie that he really hadn't thought much about the family issue, though she had alluded to her feelings on the subject a few weeks before. It just hadn't been something he wanted to deal with at that moment. Or at all, if he was honest. There had been enough barriers already between himself and the woman he loved. Why did life often seem to consist entirely of hurdles and detours?

Jake sighed. The evening had taken an unexpectedly heavy turn. He still hoped that when her trust level grew, the notion of a family based on shared responsibilities would become more palatable. In the meantime, she needed the space, the freedom, that the twins' departure had given her. He didn't begrudge her that. She'd earned it. He wanted her to make that trip to Europe, to see all the places she'd always dreamed of. He only wished he could go with her.

“I'm not sure what the answer is, Maggie. But maybe it's one of those things we should just take a wait-and-see attitude with. I can't help but believe we've been brought together for some reason.”

“I agree. Let's give it some time, okay?”

“Okay. How about starting Sunday? We could go hiking on Isle au Haut. I hear it's spectacular.”

“It is. The twins and I have spent some lovely
days over there. It's wild and rugged and isolated—a wonderful spot to get away from it all.”

They swung in silence for a few moments, and when he spoke, his voice was thoughtful. “Maggie?”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“You know that comment you made earlier? About keeping kissing in perspective?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“It's not going to be easy, you know. Not when it's the first thing I think of every time I'm near you—and most of the time when I'm not.”

“Since you're being honest, I will be, too. That's also a problem for me.”

She heard a chuckle rumble deep in his chest and was relieved that at least he seemed to be taking her ground rules in good humor. “Well, as long as I don't have to suffer alone, maybe it won't be so bad.”

“Besides, I didn't rule out kissing entirely.”

“Good-night kisses are acceptable, then?” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Absolutely.”

“In that case…” He glanced at his watch and feigned a yawn. “I think it's time to say good-night. Don't you?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “You're incorrigible, you know.”

“Guilty. At least when it comes to you.” He reached over and drew a finger down the line of her cheek. “Good night, Maggie.” He leaned close to claim her lips.

This time the kiss was gentle, a thing to be savored. Now that they had agreed to let time be their friend, the earlier urgency of their embrace was replaced by a tender exploration and leisurely rediscovery that spoke of understanding and promise and hope.

Maggie had no idea what the future held for them. But for the first time since Jake had come back into her life, she felt a sense of peace and calm.

A
s the blaze of fall colors began to burn brightly on the coastal landscape, so, too, did the blaze of love burn with ever-growing fervor in Maggie's heart. Sundays became “their” day, and after early-morning services together she and Jake explored the back roads and quaint byways of their adopted state. Sometimes Howard went with them, but usually he declined their invitation, insisting three was a crowd.

And so, from popular Acadia National Park to remote Schoodic Point, their love blossomed once again on the splendor of the Maine coast. The twins demanded regular progress reports, and though Maggie tried to play it low-key, even she could hear the joyful lilt in her voice every time she mentioned Jake. The girls, of course, were delighted—but no less so than Maggie. She'd been
so afraid her fragile bubble of happiness would burst, that one day she'd wake up to find herself once more alone. Yet her fears seemed groundless. Each moment she spent with Jake was more perfect than the last.

In fact, everything seemed almost
too
perfect. And life was far from perfect, as she well knew. Yet her hours with Jake disputed that reality. Each time he enfolded her fingers in his strong, bronzed hand; each time his warm, brown eyes smiled down into hers; each time he held her in his arms and claimed her lips, Maggie felt a renewal, a rebirth, a reawakening. Joy and hope filled her heart as the love she'd kept locked away for so long began to find release. For Maggie, who had long ago stifled romantic fantasies and the notion of happy endings, it was a dream come true.

That “dream-come-true” quality was brought home to her most clearly on Thanksgiving Day when she glanced around the table, her heart overflowing with love. The twins looked radiant and vivacious, chattering about college life and clearly thriving in the challenging academic environment. Howard had filled out and looked well on the road to recovery. And Jake… Maggie's eyes softened as they met his warm gaze across the table. Jake made her understand the real meaning of Thanksgiving. Loving him, and being loved in return, filled her
with gratitude—and hope. For Maggie sensed they were close to a resolution of their issues.

In fact, she had a feeling this Christmas might bring a very special present her way, one she'd thought never to receive again. She glanced down at her bare left hand as she reached for the basket of rolls. Maybe in a month it wouldn't look so bare. A delicious tingle of excitement and anticipation raced along her spine.

Wouldn't the girls love a spring wedding?

 

Jake turned the corner and drove slowly through the pelting, icy rain, a troubled frown on his face. Though Paul had eventually opened up and taken Jake into his confidence, in the end it hadn't made much difference. He was withdrawing at the end of the semester.

Jake let out a long, frustrated sigh. The boy had been dealing with a lot, no question about it. First, a few weeks before leaving for school, his parents had announced their intention to divorce. That was hard enough to accept. But the reason had made it even worse. His father, whom Paul had always looked up to and admired, had fallen in love and made it clear that he wanted to marry the other woman. Paul had not only felt betrayed and abandoned himself, but as the only child he'd been left to comfort his devastated mother. It was a difficult position to be in at any age, but especially for a
seventeen-year-old still in the process of growing up himself.

Jake believed that his talks with Paul had helped a great deal, that the sympathetic ear he'd offered had provided a much-needed outlet and sounding board for the angry, hurt young man. Slowly, over the last few weeks, he had begun to calm down, settle in. His work had improved and he'd began to socialize more.

And then he'd been hit with the news that his mother had cancer, so far advanced that there was nothing the doctors could do. She'd been given four to six months, at best. And because she had no one else to love and support her through the ordeal to come, he had decided to go home, to be with her during the difficult days ahead. Jake knew Paul had struggled with the decision, knew he didn't want to withdraw from school. In the end, he'd made a courageous choice, and Jake admired him for it. But it was just so unfair. His fingers tightened on the wheel as he pulled to a stop in front of the cottage.

Jake forced himself to take a long, steadying breath before he climbed out of the car and turned up his collar against the biting wind and cold rain. He slammed the door and strode up the walk, stopping when he discovered a ladder blocking his path. He frowned and glanced up—to find
his father perched on one of the top rungs, at roof level. A sudden gust of the relentless wind slapped a stinging sheet of sleet against his face, and he shivered.

“Dad!” He had to shout to be heard above the gale.

His father half turned and peered down at him.

“What are you doing up there?” Anger nipped the edges of his words.

“The gutter's blocked. Had a waterfall right above the front door.”

It wasn't the first time lately that Jake had found his father engaged in an activity that was far too strenuous for him. Now that the older man was feeling better, he was beginning to act as if he'd never had a heart attack. But today was the worst transgression so far. He shouldn't be on a ladder in
any
weather, let alone what seemed to be the beginning of a southwester.

“I'll fix it later. Come down here right now!”

Even through the gray curtain of rain and sleet, Jake could see the sudden, defiant lift of the older man's chin. “I was only trying to help. And you're not in the navy anymore, you know. So stop giving orders.”

A muscle in Jake's jaw clenched and he took a deep breath, struggling for control. “Will you
please
come down and go inside where it's warm? We're both getting soaked and I, for one, don't intend to get pneumonia.”

With that he skirted the ladder and strode into the house, banging the door behind him.

By the time Howard followed a couple of minutes later, Jake had stripped off his wet coat and hung it to drip in the bathroom. His father glared at him as he entered, then stomped into the bathroom and threw his own drenched coat into the tub. When he returned, Jake was waiting for him, his fists planted on his hips, his lips compressed into a thin line.

“Okay, Dad. Let's talk about this. I can't be here to watch you all day. You know what you're supposed to do and what you're not supposed to do. This—” he gestured toward the front door “—is
not
on the list of ‘do's,' and you know it.”

Howard gave him a resentful glare. “I'm not one of your students, Jake. Or some enlisted man you can order around. I feel fine. I'm tired of being treated like an invalid. I can do what I want. You're not my keeper.”

“Yes, I am. I promised Mom years ago—and Rob more recently—that I'd take care of you. And I intend to do just that.”

“That's the only reason you let me come up here, isn't it? Because you promised your mother and
Rob. Well, I don't need charity. I can do just fine on my own.”

“Right.” Jake didn't try to disguise his sarcasm. “Like that little escapade I just witnessed outside. Suppose you'd fallen? Or put too much strain on your heart? You could be dead right now—or at the very least, in the hospital.”

“Maybe I'd be more welcome there.”

“That's a fine thing to say.”

“Well, it's true. You haven't wanted me around in years.” Bitterness etched the older man's words.

“I invited you to live with me, didn't I?”

Howard gave a snort of disgust. “Sure. But only because you promised your mother and Rob. Maybe if you'd bothered to come around once in a while, Clara wouldn't have died—five years ago today, not that you'd remember. You broke her heart, Jake. Just like you broke Maggie's.”

Jake drew in a sharp breath. His father's harsh words cut, leaving a gaping wound in his soul. He struck back without even stopping to think, wanting to hurt as badly as he'd just been hurt. “You didn't exactly act like you wanted me around. It wouldn't have killed you to try and understand how I felt. Maybe if you hadn't been so stubborn, we could have worked this out years ago. Maybe it's as much your fault as mine that Mom's gone.”

Howard's face went white with shock and anger.
He gripped the back of the chair and the look he gave Jake was scathing. Yet there was pain in his eyes as well, raw and unmistakable. “That's a terrible thing to say.”

Yes, it was. Jake closed his eyes and clenched his fists, cursing his loss of control, shocked at the words he'd just uttered. And more were poised for release, despite his efforts to hold them back. Words that, once spoken, could never be retracted. They'd said too much already, possibly irreparably damaging the fragile relationship they'd built these last few weeks. It was time to stop this tirade, before it got even more emotional and hateful. With one last look at his father, Jake brushed past him and retrieved his damp coat from the bathroom, shrugging into it as he headed toward the front door.

“Where are you going?” Howard's voice quivered with anger.

“Out. I need to cool down before I say anything else I'll end up regretting.”

And then he stepped outside, slamming the door shut behind him.

The sleet continued unabated, but Jake hardly noticed as he drove to a nearby spot that overlooked the turbulent, storm-tossed coast. He sat there for a long time as the elements battered his car much as his father's words had battered his soul. So many
old hurts had surfaced, so many suppressed emotions had been released. But not in a healthy way. They'd ended up accusing each other of terrible things. All this time, while Jake thought their relationship was stabilizing, his father had been harboring a deep-seated anger against him, borne of blame and resentment. And, in many ways, Jake had felt the same toward the older man. No wonder their “progress” had been so slow. Now it had not only come to a grinding halt, but regressed dramatically.

Jake sighed and raked his fingers through his hair as a wave of despair washed over him. His father had made it clear he didn't enjoy living with him. Was only doing so under duress. But he couldn't go back to Rob's—not yet, anyway. Though Rob had at last connected with a firm that seemed interested in hiring him, his life was still in an uproar and there was a strong possibility he and his family would have to move. So what options did that leave for Howard?

Jake didn't have the answer to that question. And he probably wasn't going to come up with one in the next few hours. He might as well go home, as unappealing as that prospect was.

All in all, he decided, it had been one lousy day.

And it didn't get any better when he stepped
inside the door and his glance fell on his father's suitcase. Now what was going on? He closed his eyes. Drew in a long breath. Let it out slowly.

He could hear his father rattling pans in the kitchen, and, with reluctance, he made his way in that direction, pausing at the doorway just in time to see his father emptying what appeared to be a pot of beef stew into the garbage disposal. The act seemed somehow symbolic of far more than dinner going down the drain. His gut twisted painfully.

“What's with the suitcase, Dad?”

“I'm going to visit Rob for a week. I called, and he said it was okay. There's a flight out of Bangor in the morning. I'll take a cab.”

“I'll drive you.”

“That's not necessary.”

“I'll drive you, Dad. Let's not argue about that, too.”

Howard reacted to that statement with silence. And
silence
was the operative word during the drive to Bangor the next morning. The few comments Jake tried to make were ignored, so in the end he gave up. Only when Howard was preparing to go through security did he get more than a grunt for an answer.

“When are you coming back, Dad?”

“I'll take a cab to the house.”

“I'll pick you up. Just tell me the day and time. Or I'll call the airline and find out.”

Howard gave him a withering look, but provided the information—with obvious reluctance.

“Have a safe trip. Tell Rob hi for me.”

Howard didn't reply, and as Jake watched him trudge down the hall toward security, he jammed his hands into his pockets in frustration. How would the two of them ever work out their differences? Or maybe the real question was whether they even could. He wanted to make things work between them, but he was beginning to think that mission was destined for failure.

Jake was oblivious to his surroundings as he drove back to Castine, his mind busy searching for a solution to a situation that appeared to have none. Why the retirement home caught his eye he didn't know, but he eased his foot off the accelerator and looked at it with a frown as he drove past. He'd seen it before, of course, but for the first time he examined it with a critical eye. It seemed to be a nice place. Well kept, with spacious grounds in an attractive setting. Maybe… But even as the thought crossed his mind, Jake pushed it aside. How could he even consider such a possibility when he'd promised his mother that he'd never send Howard to an “old folks” home, as she'd called them?

And yet…he'd also promised to take care of his father. Given the recent turn of events, he was beginning to doubt whether it was possible to keep both promises. His father didn't want to live with him. And Jake couldn't be there all the time to take care of the older man, who was beginning to take chances with his health. Maybe, in the short term, a retirement home was the best solution. His father would have companionship, and better care than Jake could provide. They wouldn't let him climb on ladders, for one thing. And it would only be temporary, until Rob was settled again. His father liked living with Rob. Rob liked having him. Down the road, Jake was sure Howard would move back in with his firstborn. Until then, he might be a lot happier—and healthier—away from his younger son.