Lover's Lane (16 page)

“Would you mind, Jake?” Tracy was in the car, still hanging out of the passenger window. Glenn had the engine running. “We’ll probably pass Carly on the way out of the park.”

“Sure. Go ahead. Tell her we’ll be waiting right here.”

They drove away, the car kicking up dust as Glenn peeled out of the parking lot. Jake took Christopher by the hand and led him back to the bleachers where the boy had left his small bag of gear.

Soon all the other parents and kids had driven away, too, and they were alone. Jake had taken care of his niece and nephews before, so he wasn’t uncomfortable, but he found himself thinking about how this was Rick’s kid and how Rick should have been here.

“Wanna toss the ball around?” Chris looked hopeful.

Jake shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

Chris’ smile, another distinct echo of Rick, spread about a mile wide. “Great!”

With the first toss Jake realized Chris would do more chasing than catching so he squatted down and started to gently lob the ball.

“Know what, Jake?”

“What, Chris?”

“We had grandparents’ day at school, and I didn’t have any, so Mom said I could ask Joe from the diner. He brought a bullfighting sword with him. It was real sharp and pointy and the principal almost took it away from him. She said if Joe was a kid she’d have to suspend him. We can’t bring anything like that to school, you know?”

“Really.”

“Yeah. But Joe said he had to confess, once and for all, that he
wasn’t
a bullfighter, that he was just a cook. The sword was only a souvenir. And he brought this
really
dangerous cactus with
killer
needles all over it. He
cooks
it!”

“No kidding.”

“Yeah. Only the bravest kids tasted it. It was great.”

“Sounds like you had fun.”

“I asked Mom if I could share you at school, like a fake dad, but she said no.”

“What’s a fake dad?”

“You know. Some of the kids have a real dad, but their mom gets married again, and then they have a real dad
and
a fake dad at the same time. They live with one and they live with the other one sometimes, too.”

“My real dad died when I was eight. Then I had a ‘fake’ dad, but I felt like he was another real dad,” Jake volunteered.

“I don’t have either kind. Hey, Jake?”

“What, Chris?”

“How do you spell your name?”

“Why?”

“I’m learning to write stuff at school. Maybe Monday I’ll draw a picture and write about you playing catch with me. Can we stop now?” Chris had already chased more balls than he’d caught.

“I’m getting pretty tired myself.”

They walked back to the bleachers, and Chris scrambled to the top, so Jake followed. The boy sat down, propped his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands.

“Wonder where my mom is? I hope she’s okay.”

Jake was worried, too, but tried not to let on. “She’ll probably be along any minute now.”

“Know what, Jake?”

“No. What?”

“I hope Willa’s okay. Have you ever had a dog?”

“Two. Larry and Moe, but not at the same time. They were both mutts. They never got sick.”

“What’s a mutt?”

“A mixture of different kinds of dogs, not one special kind like a Pekingese.”

“I want a dog so bad. I’d even take a mutt, but Mom says we can’t have one. We might have to move.”

“Move?”

“She always says that, but we haven’t moved for a long time. I don’t even remember the other places we lived. She tells me that we can’t have a dog or a cat because we might have to leave all of a sudden. And she thinks our place is too small for pets, but Mrs. Schwartz has one, and her place is smaller than ours.”

“Does your mom ever talk about where she’d like to move to?”

Chris shrugged. “Not really. I don’t want to move anyplace.”

“It must be a lot of trouble to move all the time.”

“We’ve got emergency bags all packed, just in case of an earthquake, too.” The boy pulled down his sock and scratched his ankle, then pulled it back up. “She doesn’t talk about moving too much anymore.”

The boy’s innocent comment confirmed Jake’s worst fears. Carly was obviously prepared to relocate any time she believed her identity had been compromised. If he’d told Carly the truth about himself the night they first met, she most likely would have been gone the next day.

There had to be more at stake here than keeping Anna Saunders from taking part in Christopher’s life.

“Hey! There she is!” Chris started waving and bolted down the bleachers. Jake watched Carly enter the parking lot and pull up next to his car. When she jumped out, the old Ford’s engine continued to rattle.

Chris ran up and threw his arms around her thighs. Carly hugged him tight, though she was looking across the lot at Jake with a frown marring her expression. The breeze drew a few strands of hair across her lips. She brushed it back, then gave Christopher a quick kiss on the top of his head.

The whole time he’d been in Los Angeles, he had tried to convince himself that his initial attraction to her hadn’t been that intense. The longer he was away, the more he’d convinced himself it was nothing but a brief infatuation. And why not? He’d been focused on finding her on and off for six years.

But now, seeing her again, there was no denying her allure. On an emotional level, he felt a strong, irresistible pull whenever he looked at her. A magnetic force he’d never experienced before.

But his investigative side never rested. As he watched her smile over at him, he couldn’t help but wonder if she had ever trusted Rick enough to tell him her real name.

Who was she and what in the hell was Carly Nolan running from?

23

CARLY BRUSHED HER HAIR BACK, LICKED HER LIPS, AND TRIED to smile. Both the delay and her concern for Christopher had shaken her, but she refused to let them see her as upset as she had been the last time they were all together.

“Mom, where were you?” Chris wriggled free and demanded an explanation.

“Betty stalled on the way up the canyon. I thought I was going to have to have her towed, but I got her started again after she cooled off. I saw the Potters on their way back. They told me you were waiting here with Jake.”

She met Jake’s eyes and started walking toward him with Chris tagging along beside her. Her anxiety over being late coupled with the excitement of seeing Jake again had her heart racing.

“I’m sorry, Jake. I’ve never, ever been late picking Chris up before.”

“I didn’t mind. The Potters offered to take him home, but he insisted that he wasn’t supposed to ride with anyone but you.”

“That’s the rule unless I tell him differently. Maybe we should talk about some exceptions, though. I’m really sorry we held you up.”

“It’s no problem. We tossed the ball around.”

“Yeah. And we talked,” Chris added.

“Really? What about?” Carly hesitated a second before walking over to the bleachers. As she picked up Chris’ small duffel bag, she wondered what he might have said.

“Oh, just guy stuff.” Chris looked up at Jake. “Huh, Jake?”

“Yeah. Guy stuff.”

She almost smiled at the two of them standing there together, but it was bad enough having Chris walking around with stars in his eyes over Jake. One of them had to keep a clear head.

Jake said, “I called Glenn to let him know I was on the way back to town, and he suggested I stop by the game and pick up the new keys to the house.”

He walked them back to Betty Ford and waited while she loaded Chris up and fastened his seat belt. When she tried to start the car, the engine didn’t even turn over. There was nothing but a repetitive clicking noise.

“Oh, no,” she groaned, embarrassed.

“That doesn’t sound good to me,” Chris piped up.

“Me either,” Jake added from where he stood beside the car.

“I think she’s about done for.” Carly grasped the top of the wheel with two hands and stared over her knuckles through the windshield. Arlo Carter down at the Twilight service station managed to keep Betty running, but he’d been predicting impending doom for a couple of years now.

Jake opened Carly’s door. “I’ll call Triple A and have your car towed back to Twilight and drive you two home.”

“I can’t let you do that, Jake.” She shook her head and didn’t budge. The last thing she wanted was to be dependent upon anyone, especially Jake. She was still haunted about the money she’d taken from Wilt’s and fully intended to pay him back someday. But it was best not to leave a trail of debt behind.

“Yes, you can.” He’d already pulled out his cell and punched the automatic dial for the Auto Club. He gave a description of the car, told the dispatcher where to find them.

“They’ll be here in thirty minutes. Might as well wait in my car.” He stepped back so she could get out.

Chris was already out of the car. “Come on, Mom. Jake will get us home.”

Carly still hadn’t budged. “I’m used to taking care of myself,” she said softly.

He put both hands on the door, leaned down close to the open window. His gaze slowly searched her face thoroughly enough to make her catch her breath.

“Let me in, Carly.” He put his hand beneath her chin, gently forced her to meet his eyes. “Let me help you.”

Forty-five minutes later they were on the road again, this time in Jake’s SUV. The back end was filled with five-gallon drums of paint, brushes, rollers, poles, drop cloths, and boxes. There was an old toolbox on the floor of the backseat.

He’d put on a classical guitar CD, and for a long while they were all content to ride along in silence, listening. Carly looked into the backseat at Chris and softly said, “He’s asleep.”

Jake glanced into the rearview mirror. Sure enough, Chris was slumped over, sound asleep, looking small and vulnerable. The kid’s trust only intensified his guilt.

After what Chris had unwittingly told him, he knew that exposing the truth would not only mean the end of their friendship, but that Carly would most likely leave town and turn her and Chris’ lives upside down.

Driving back to Twilight Cove, Jake made a silent pact with himself to tell Carly the truth the minute he had convinced her that he was there to help and not to ruin her life.

Back at the ballpark, he’d tried to start her car again, which had given him time to take a look in her glove compartment. The registration was right on top of the original owner’s manual. It was current, but filed under the name Etta Schwartz. There would be no way to trace Carly through the vehicle.

They rode along in what would have been comfortable silence had his mind not been racing.

The beautiful drive through the open country, the rolling fields of flowers and vegetables lulled them into a quiet, peaceful camaraderie. There was something right about having her and the boy with him, so right it tempted him to reach for her hand. But he didn’t.

Get over it, Montgomery.

The picture didn’t fit anymore. A wife and kids of his own was an old, faded dream.

Best not to go there. You don’t even know who she is.

“Are you staying at Rose Cottage again?” she asked.

“Not this trip. I decided to camp out at the house. Glenn had the electricity and water turned on, so I brought a sleeping bag, an air mattress, and a microwave. I hope I’ll get to stick around a couple of weeks before I have to go back to L.A.”

“Will it be hard working from here?”

“I’ve got a great partner.” He couldn’t say more, so he let the subject drop. As they rode along in silence again, listening to the guitar soloist, it was easy to imagine how good things might be between them, until he reminded himself that nothing about keeping a relationship going was easy. It would be even harder with all the lies between them, both his and hers.

As they came around the last bend in the canyon, the panorama of the ocean at sunset unfolded against the horizon. The setting sun stained the sky, slowly transforming the tints from blazing brilliance to muted evening hues.

“Have you started my painting yet?” he asked her.

“You’ll be the first to know when I do.” She smiled as she stared ahead, watched the colors collide.

“Are you seeing them right now?”

“Who?”

“People from the past. The characters that you include in your paintings.”

“Sometimes I get fleeting glimpses. I can’t explain how it happens. I work on the landscape first, give them a place to stand. Sometimes when I pick up the brush, they suddenly appear in my mind’s eye, and then they begin to take shape on canvas.”

She sounded perfectly serious, though he’d been half kidding when he asked.

“You don’t think they may have actually existed once, do you?”

She shrugged, looked at him, and smiled. “Who knows? Maybe. I like the idea of believing in the magic of them suddenly coming to life again in my work.”

When they pulled up in front of the mobile home, and Jake turned off the motor, Chris came instantly awake.

“Mom, can Jake stay for dinner?”

“We’re just having macaroni and cheese, but you’re welcome to share,” Carly offered.

“It’s the box kind,” Chris bragged. “That’s my favorite, Jake. How about you?”

“It’s the only kind I ever make.” Jake pictured the slick little tight macaroni with orange mystery cheese sauce. “Really, it is.”

Once they were all inside, he insisted she let him set the table. Carly mixed up the mac and cheese, rustled up a hearty green salad, and toasted bread with butter and Parmesan.

The three of them sat at the small Formica dining table. He and Carly both fell silent, but Christopher chattered away.

Jake couldn’t help thinking that this was the way it should be for Carly and Chris. They should be part of a family that cared about and watched over them. They deserved a host of extended family to celebrate Christmas with, to share birthdays and all of life’s triumphs and tragedies. But for whatever reason, whatever it was Carly feared, they’d been denied the joy of family.

Most days what the two of them shared was probably enough.

But what about Carly’s nights? Were they as long and lonely as his?

What of the dreams she surely dreamed in the desert when she thought that she and Rick and Christopher would have a future together?

When they finished dinner, Christopher cleared the table without having to be asked, showing off for Jake as he carefully carried everything across the kitchen. Carly asked Jake if he wanted coffee or decaf, but he declined both.

“Do you have any homework?” Carly asked Chris.

“Nope. I did it during free time in class.”

“Then you’d better get to bed. Get ready and I’ll come tuck you in.”

Chris paused in the kitchen doorway, macaroni smudges on his Stingray T-shirt, one sock crumpled around his ankle. His hair was shoved to one side, matted down by his ball cap. There were crumbs at the corner of his mouth.

“Can Jake tuck me in tonight?”

“Chris . . .” Carly turned to Jake with an apology on her lips, but he gave a slight shake of his head. Chris’ request was not the imposition she thought. It simply left a hole in his heart where his conscience had been hiding.

“Sure thing,” Jake promised. “Call me when you’re ready.”

When Chris ran out of the room, Carly turned to him.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I never meant to impose on you like this.”

“Carly, helping you, being with Christopher, these aren’t impositions.”

“He already thinks the world of you, Jake.”

He glanced over at the empty doorway. “I know.”

The trouble was, he really did know. And it was killing him.

Chris changed faster than ever, tossed his dirty clothes into the laundry basket, jumped into his ’jamas and brushed his teeth. He even wet the corner of a bath towel and scrubbed his face before he flew back to his room and hopped into bed.

“I’m ready, Jake!” he hollered. Then he scrunched down and pulled the covers up to his chin and tried to pretend he was sleepy when Jake walked in, but he ended up grinning like the Cheshire cat in the Alice video.

“You look pretty well tucked in to me,” Jake teased.

Chris liked the way Jake’s voice sounded. Not all soft and lovey like Mom’s. It was big and deep and . . . comfortable, like the old sofa in his mom’s studio. It made him feel all toasty just like when he drank a cup of hot chocolate on a cold afternoon.

“You gotta sit on the edge of the bed and talk about stuff before you tell me goodnight,” he told Jake.

“What kind of stuff?”

“Important stuff. Like, you ask, ‘How was your day?’ And if I say it was bad, you say, ‘It’ll get better.’ ”

“How do I know that?”

“Because tomorrow’s always better. It’s when you get another chance to do things right.”

Jake sat. Chris could tell he was trying to be real careful not to squish him. Jake kept looking at him funny, too, like he was thinking about somebody else, maybe. Chris started to worry that Jake might be thinking of some other kid.

“It’s your first time, right?”

“First time for what?”

“Tucking somebody in.”

“Officially, yes. I’ve got a niece and nephews, but they never asked me to do this.”

“Since it’s your first time, you don’t have to tell a story.”

“Thanks. I’ve got to get up to the house before it gets too dark anyway.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“You feeling tucked in yet?”

Chris wriggled a little deeper beneath the covers. “Kinda. Jake?”

“What, Chris?”

“Are you married?”

“No. I was once, though.”

“You got any kids?”

“Nope.”

“Do you ever want any?”

Jake got real quiet, like he was thinking really hard, then he said, “Well, that’s a difficult question. I used to want some really badly when I was first married, but since I’m divorced now, I don’t think about it much.”

“You’d be a real good dad.”

Jake looked at the wall, then he looked really funny, like somebody was pinching him.

“What makes you think so?” When Jake spoke, Chris could hardly hear him.

“You don’t yell or anything. You’re a good ball thrower. You’ve got a
killer
car.”

“It takes more than that to be a good dad, Chris.”

Chris didn’t think so, but he was willing to listen to what Jake thought. “Like what?”

“Like patience. Do you know what that is?”

“Sure. Mom always tells me to be patient. It means you have to wait and wait for something to happen or for somebody to do something, and you can’t get mad or whine if it takes too long.”

“Right. You have to be a good teacher, too, so you can teach your kids what they need to know.”

“Like how to play ball.”

“Yeah, and other things. Like about life.”

“Like a mentor.”

“Right.”

“
And
you have to love ’em no matter what they do,” Chris added, feeling proud of himself, thinking about his mom.

Jake waited so long to say something else that Chris thought he was all done talking. Then, in a voice that sounded like he was catching a cold, Jake added, “That’s probably the most important part.”

Chris yawned, rolled over and smiled against the pillow. Jake pulled the covers higher around his shoulders and gave his head a pat.

“See,” Chris mumbled, closing his eyes. “I know you’d be a real good dad. You already know all about it.”

Carly walked Jake to the door. She’d heard him and Chris talking softly, but knowing how important it was to Christopher to have Jake to himself, she resisted the urge to join them.

The thought that her son was losing his heart to this man scared her to death, but no matter what came of her own relationship with Jake, she hoped it was better that Chris be exposed to the man’s kindness and honesty than to deny her son.

When she and Jake stepped out onto the porch, he pulled on his sport coat. Before she realized what she was doing, she reached up and straightened the back of his collar.