Now You See Me (18 page)

Okay. He’d give her that.

“You know,” she said as she plucked a ladybug from the trellis, “last winter was very bad for me, but until then, I always managed. Your father knew what I needed. He made sure I took care of myself.”

“Uh, did I miss a step in this conversation?”

She sighed and rapped a fist on his forehead. “J.T., the biggest danger for me isn’t the lack of sun. It’s the lack of support. What I need most of all is to be with family, with people who won’t judge me for being...ill...and make sure I get to the doctor and do my light therapy and take my medication.”

“That’s why you’re coming to Tucson. So I can help you with all of that.”

“But I don’t need to be in Tucson. Not if I have you.”

“Mom—”

“Stop. Just stop and listen. I’ve lived with this since you were a child. I admit, I wasn’t always good about taking care of myself, mostly because I hated admitting there was anything wrong. But I had dozens of years of managing. As long as I had your father pushing me to do what needed to be done, I could manage. Even here.”

Fear squeezed his gut. “I’m not Dad. I don’t know you the way he did, Ma, I don’t... He knew how to help you. I don’t.”

“You could learn.” She pinched a leaf from the plant. “You have a PhD, Justin. Learning is something you excel at.”

“There’s a big difference between studying astronomy and learning how to help you manage this. Nothing bad will happen if I screw up an equation.”

“You won’t mess up.”

“In Tucson, I wouldn’t have to worry about it. I would know you’re fine.”

“I would be fine. But I wouldn’t be happy. I understand you can’t move to Comeback Cove. But Cornwall, Brockville, Ottawa... They all need teachers. They’re all close enough that I could make a home there, by you, and still stay part of everything I love here. And, my dear, so could you.” She lightly tapped his chest. “Think about it, J.T.”

She turned away from the beans and headed for the snap peas, but he stayed where he was, frozen in place as surely as if January had just reached out a hand and grabbed him. Because if he moved, as scared as he was, he just might shatter the fragile wand of hope his mother had just handed him.

* * *

O
N
THE
S
ATURDAY
NIGHT
of their second weekend together, Lyddie was the first to arrive at the cottage. She balanced a bag of groceries on her hip while letting herself in with the key J.T. had given her. This, she thought as she unpacked milk and eggs, would be a special night. She didn’t have to go to work in the morning. They were staying all night and all tomorrow and the night after that. Hours and glorious hours together.

She had it all planned: make a little food, make a lot of love, fall asleep in each other’s arms. Repeat. Intersperse with laughter and stories. Enjoy. Lock each moment away in her heart to give her something to hold when they had to say—

No. No, she was going to live in the moment and revel in the togetherness and not worry about what would happen later.

She pulled a loaf of cinnamon bread from the bag, then a box of lemon pudding mix.

“Oh, the things I have planned for you,” she murmured as she ripped the box open.

She had the pudding heating on the two-burner stove when her phone rang. A quick glance at the display had her smiling.

“Sara!” She gave the pot a stir, lowered the heat and headed to the love seat. “What’s up, chickie?”

“Oh, Mom, you won’t believe it! Ms. Rasmussen—you know, the clarinet teacher—we had the best lesson today. And she said she wishes I was staying here, because she would tell me to try out for the Youth Symphony. She said I would be a shoo-in, Mom.”

“That’s wonderful, babe. What a great thing for her to say.” Lyddie hoped her voice conveyed nothing of the dread she felt each time Sara mentioned the words she’d come to hate—
if I stayed.

“But that’s not all.” Sara’s voice dropped the way it always did when she was about to reveal something so special, she barely dared say it aloud. “There was this guy at the lesson today. I thought he was just there visiting, you know, like, her boyfriend or something? But when we were done, she said he was from the university, and she told him he should hear me, and he said I have a ton of potential and I really need to be studying with someone who knows what they’re doing, you know?” Her excitement was palpable even in her hastily drawn breath. “And he said he’s gonna call you in a couple of days to talk about my future. My future, Mom, can you believe it? He thinks I have a future!”

Lyddie closed her eyes against the weight bearing down on her chest. She knew why the teacher was planning to call. He was going to ask for Sara to stay.

“Wow,” she managed to say. “That’s so...incredible.”

“Incredible? It’s the best thing ever! Oh, Mom, I’m so glad you let me come here! I’m having so much fun with the boys, and little Emily is so cute—wait till you see her. Yesterday I got to give her her very first bottle. But Mom, the music here.” She sighed in sheer bliss. “I can’t believe everything they have. It’s so awesome, you know?”

Yes. She knew. She could feel it in every muscle, in every tendon that had carried this child through nine and a half long months. Sara was hers, damn it, one of the only things she had to hold on to. They couldn’t have her. Not yet.

She stuffed her hand in her mouth and bit down, welcoming the pain because it pulled her back from the edge. Sara prattled on about her cousins and the friends she was making—“It’s so great, Mom. Nobody knows me. It’s not like I have to worry about what people will think”—and all the while, Lyddie bit harder on her hand and stared out the window with eyes too blurred to register anything.

Something touched her shoulder. Something warm and solid, something strong and sure. In another second J.T. was kneeling in front of her, brushing tears from her face, tugging her hand from her mouth and wincing at the bite marks.

Seeing him, feeling him, brought her back. She managed to breathe—how long had she been holding it in?—and said, in a reasonably steady voice, “Well, doll, you’ve had a remarkable day. I can’t wait to hear from this teacher.”

“Okay, Mom. And make sure you ask him— Oh, I have to go. Emmy’s awake. Aunt Zoë left me alone with her while she took the boys to the playground. She said she wouldn’t trust her with anyone else this early, but I’m the exception.”

“That you are, sweetie. Okay. Go get the baby and I’ll talk to you in a couple of days.”

“Bye Mom. Love you.”

“Love you, too, sweets.” But Sara had hung up as soon as she finished speaking, leaving Lyddie talking to dead air. She clung to the phone for a minute longer before slowly lowering it.

J.T. was there immediately, reaching for the phone, reaching for her. She went into his arms gratefully. A long, shuddering sob broke free. She burrowed her face in his shoulder and held on, so very glad that he was there, that for this moment, she didn’t have to face it alone.

His hands were warm on her back as he drew her closer. “Bad news?”

“Only for me,” she whispered, and told him everything. When she got to the part about the impending call she started to cry again while he rubbed her back, slow circles that centered her, steadied her, strengthened her.

“She’ll want to stay, won’t she?” he said when Lyddie finally stopped talking.

“Probably. I keep telling myself maybe she won’t, that it’s one thing to plan on the summer and another to think about a real move, but I know it won’t make any difference. She’ll want to stay.”

“And?”

She lifted her head from his shoulder. “And what?”

“What will you do?”

“She’s only fourteen. I can’t let her go yet. She’ll have to go someday, I know, but not yet.”

“She’ll hate you for it.”

Lyddie sank back in weariness. “I know.”

“The good news is, she probably won’t hate you forever.”

“Just a decade or two, right?”

“Lyddie...” He kissed her softly, pure comfort, before saying, “This is none of my business, and I’m not a parent. But if she’s as good as they say she is, you might want to speed up your plans a bit.”

“You mean let her go? Now?” She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

“People do it. I had a student, a figure skater. She went as far as she could at home, but she ended up moving to Colorado when she was about Sara’s age.”

Lyddie shuddered. “How could they do that? How did her parents let her go?”

“It wasn’t easy. But I think they felt that if they said no—” he hesitated “—I think they figured if they kept her from following her dream, they would end up losing her, anyway.”

“You think I should let her
go?
”

He slipped his fingers through her hair. “I think you are one of the strongest women I’ve ever known.”

“Why do I have a feeling that’s not such a good thing right now?”

“You’ve survived worse. And if you decide this is what’s best for her, you’ll be fine.”

“Ah, God, this is so hard.” She leaned back into him, rubbing against the rough bristle of his cheek. “I don’t have to decide right now, do I?”

“No. You have time.”

She did. Not much, but some. Just like what she had with J.T.

“You know,” he said slowly, “you might have more options than you realize.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well...Ottawa has an orchestra. Maybe even one for kids.”

“I... You know, I think they do. There was one in Peterborough.” At his raised eyebrows, she realized she had never spoken much about her old life. “That’s where we used to live.”

“Ever think about going back?”

“Um, have you forgotten that I’m buying a building from you?”

“Right. Sure. Of course.” He hooked his pinky around hers. “Just wondered.”

“Afraid I’m going to back out on you after you’ve had to face the wrath of Jillian?” She kept the words as light as she could, but now that she wasn’t quite so miserable, she could see the tension in his shoulders. As if there were more to his questions than he wanted to let on.

Was
he afraid she would change her mind? He’d gone through a hell of a lot for her.

“I do think about it, of course,” she said. “Not moving back, but, you know. The way it used to be. The house and the neighborhood. It was a good place. But this is home now.”

He nodded, but the movements seemed mechanical, as if she hadn’t reassured him at all.

“It’s a good option for Sara. I’ll have to check it out, and I’m so glad you thought of it.” She wound her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss in the curve of his shoulder. “Thank you for being here. I’ve kind of forgotten how nice it is to have someone to share these things with.”

“No place I’d rather be, babe.” He gave a shake, almost as if he were trying to push away a bad memory, then gave an exaggerated sniff. “Um, is something burning?”

“Oh, crap. The pudding!” She bolted from the love seat to turn off the heat, but it was too late.

“Scorched,” she said, letting the spoon drop into the pot. “And I had such great plans for it.”

His arms crept around her waist and she relaxed back against him, closing her eyes as he kissed the side of her neck.

“There’s always tomorrow night,” he whispered, and she smiled.

He was right. For a little bit longer, they still had tomorrow.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

J.T.
WOKE
TO
DARKNESS
and a rumbling in his stomach. Oh, yeah. They’d forgotten dinner.

Again.

He grinned as he eased himself from the bed. No point in waking Lyddie if he didn’t—

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

Her voice surrounded him but he didn’t see her.

“Lyd?”

“I’m outside,” she called. He pulled on sleep pants and followed the sound of her voice out to the porch where she sat on the glider, wrapped in a fleece throw. She made room for him, snuggling against his side when he sat. He pulled her close and breathed her in for a long moment.

“Been awake long?”

One shoulder bumped against his ribs as she shrugged. “Maybe fifteen minutes.”

“Thinking about Sara?”

“Actually, no. I was thinking about you.”

“Good stuff, I hope.”

“Mmm, very good.” Her hand crept along his chest. “You’re half-naked. Are you cold?”

“If I am, can I share your blanket?”

“Nope. I’m a selfish wench. Besides, I’m
all
naked, and if you get under here I’ll get distracted. And I really should take a break and get something to eat.”

“Excellent idea.” But of course, neither of them moved.

“J.T.?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you expect anything like this?”

Hope flared within him. Could she be realizing there was more than just awesome sex building between them?

“No. If someone had told me that I would end up having the time of my life during a summer I was sure would kill me...huh. I would have laughed in their face.”

“Me, too.”

He didn’t dare intrude on her thoughts, not when they seemed to be heading in his direction. He was content to hold her and hope she could figure out that some people went their whole lives without feeling what they shared.

Most of all, he hoped she figured it out soon.

“J.T.?”

“Mmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, babe.”

She took a breath and pulled the blanket closer around her. “What happened that night? I mean... You don’t have to tell me, but...” She gave her head a little shake, a barely perceptible movement in the darkness. “The fire. Glenn never talked about it.”

No surprise there.

His first instinct, just as it had been all those years ago, was flight. But this time was different. This time he had Lyddie to hold.

“Okay. First thing you have to know is, probably everything you’ve heard about me back then is true. I stole. I lied. I wasn’t a bully, I never set out to hurt anyone, but most other stuff was fair game.”

“No virgin sacrifices?”

He nuzzled her hair. “Only my own, babe. Anyway, there was this tradition that after graduation, the kids would do something wild. Kind of a senior prank. One year they TP’d the school. Another time they stole all the forks from the cafeteria and used them to spell out Comeback Cove on the school lawn. That kind of thing.”

She made a little sound of encouragement. He tucked her tighter against him and stole a corner of the blanket.

“When it was our year, everyone expected me to come up with the plan. I decided we would have a sleepover in the Old Village. I knew a way to sneak in from when I worked there the summer before. So once they cut the cake and finished the speeches, a bunch of us grabbed our sleeping bags and got ourselves inside.”

“It was all authentic buildings, right?”

“Yep. All houses and stores from a couple of hundred years ago, moved here from miles around.” And God, that still hurt, thinking of what he had helped destroy. “When I screw up, I don’t hold back.”

Her hand was warm where it cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” He turned her hand, kissed the palm. “Anyway, we were all there having a good time. A couple of the guys had brothers old enough to buy us a few bottles, and we sure as hell took advantage of them that night.” That, at least, was a good part of the memory. Just him and the guys, hanging together, getting totally wasted in a way that was totally irresponsible, but made for some damned good times.

“That was about it. A bunch of guys, drinking, smoking, shooting the—the breeze. Then I left them for a while.”

“Out for a breath of fresh air?”

He hesitated, not certain how much further to go. There was only one person in the world who knew the rest of that story, and she sure as hell wouldn’t want this part known.

But this was Lyddie. Lyddie, who he wanted for the rest of his life. If ever there were a person he could tell, it would be her.

He was omitting Glenn’s name. He could leave this one out, too. Lyddie would never know.

“No fresh air,” he said at last. “I was meeting someone. We’d set it up earlier that night.”

Her voice was warm and indulgent. “Let me guess. A girl.”

“Right in one.”

“No surprise there. So some lucky gal decided to have her own forbidden celebration, huh?”

Actually, the girl in question had been acting more out of spite, spurred by a fight with her jealous boyfriend. He’d known it even then. But a kid at his sexual peak wasn’t up to thinking too clearly when offered the chance of a lifetime.

“She met me in the building next to where my buddies were. She brought wine. Not that I needed it by that point, but I think she thought that was what you were supposed to do. So, we had a glass. Real fast. And then we got down to business, so to speak.”

For the second time that night, she smacked his arm.

“You know, if you hit me again it’s gonna leave a bruise.”

“Then I’ll kiss it and make it better. So what happened then? That wasn’t your first time, was it?”

“No. It would have been, but we didn’t get that far. Came damned close, though.”

“If she changed her mind, she was a fool.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Thank you. No, she probably would have followed through, but we were interrupted.”

“The buddies came looking for you?”

“Nope. The buddies ran screaming out of the building next door, two steps ahead of the fire.”

“Wait a minute.” She pulled away from him, astonishment clear even in the dim light. “How did the fire start?”

“Matches, a few joints, an old building and a bunch of kids too plastered to stay safe.”

“No, I mean—you weren’t even in the building when it started?”

“Nope.”

“So you had nothing to do with it?”

“I had the idea to go there. I got everyone inside. I knew what they were doing. I’m not innocent, Lyddie.”

“Okay, no, but you weren’t— How did you end up taking the blame?”

“I stayed back a minute. Made sure all my buddies were out. And I had to wait for my, uh, companion to get her clothes on.”

“You were that close?”

He pulled her warmth back against him. “Close enough that for years, I had to check for smoke before I could put on a condom.”

She snickered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh.”

“S’okay. I hate to think what it did to her.”

“You never saw her again?”

“No,” he lied. Telling that particular truth wouldn’t benefit anyone. “Anyway, we got out and were almost off the grounds when she remembered her ID bracelet. She’d left it in our building.”

“Don’t tell me you did the hero thing and went back for it.”

“I had to. The fire was spreading, but in the other direction. I wasn’t in any danger. But when I got back to the spot in the fence, all the others were gone already. Running home as fast as their drunken legs would take them. The only person I saw was Harley Prestwick, running toward the flames.”

“Oh, my God. So you were the only one they could pin at the scene.”

At least he hadn’t had to spell that part out for her. “I knew I was dead meat. I was the one with the reputation. The other guys might have tried to protect me but they couldn’t deny I’d been there. They had no idea what I was doing when I wasn’t with them.”

“And the girl?”

He snorted. “They could have put her on the rack and she would never have admitted to being there with me.”

“So you ran. And no one ever stood up for you? None of them stepped forward?”

“People do stupid things when they’re afraid.”

“But—”

“Lyddie, we were seventeen, eighteen years old and dumber than dirt, but we knew when to keep our mouths shut. Some of them had to stick around for grade thirteen. The others were getting ready to leave for college.” Like her future husband. “I was gone before morning. There wasn’t enough evidence to press charges. From their point of view, letting me take the heat was the best course possible. I would have done the same thing.”

“No, you wouldn’t. I might not know all the details of your life, but I know that you’re decent and brave and far too honest to ever do that to someone else.”

Was that what she saw when she looked at him? If so, then it had been worth the risk of telling her.

“Thanks,” he said softly. “But I wasn’t always such a paragon.”

“Bull. Those traits don’t come from nowhere, J.T. They were in here all along.” And she rested her hand over his rapidly beating heart.

He kissed the top of her head, filling himself with her. Then he tipped his face to the stars and sent the most heartfelt wish of his life to each and every one of them.

* * *

L
YDDIE
SPENT
M
ONDAY
eyeing every local man who seemed to be about the right age, trying to decide who else might have been at the fire. If any of J.T.’s so-called friends were still in town, she wanted to know who they were. Not that she planned to do anything with the information. J.T. was right: the past was the past, and she could certainly understand why a scared adolescent would keep quiet. Still, she wasn’t sure if she could find any sympathy for a grown man who continued to let someone else take the heat.

It wasn’t until closing time that she realized she didn’t need to keep giving all the men the once-over. She had Nadine. Nadine, who had worked in the school cafeteria all those years and lived here her whole life. If anyone could guide Lyddie in the right direction, it would be her. But no sooner had she locked up than Nadine was in her face.

“Lydia Brewster, what the hell is going on around here?”

Okay. So Lyddie wasn’t the only one who’d been waiting for a moment alone together.

“What is this, Nadine,
Jeopardy!
? Because if so, the answer is, ‘What is the problem?’”

“Here’s the problem. Something’s going on in this town and I don’t know what’s behind it. And that bugs the hell out of me.”

Lyddie grabbed a half-empty coffeepot from the counter and shouldered her way through the swinging door to the kitchen. “Geez, Nadine. You have control issues, you know that?”

“This isn’t about me.” Nadine was right behind her with a tray of mugs. “But something isn’t sitting right. Have you noticed that Jillian hasn’t been in lately?”

Huh. Come to think of it, it had been a few days since either of the Royal Couple had made an appearance in the shop. “It’s summer. They might be on vacation.” But even as she said it, anxiety curled in her stomach.

“They’re not. They’re just avoiding this place. Avoiding me, too, when I pass them on the street.”

“And you’re complaining?” Maybe if she made a joke about it, she could convince herself that there was nothing to worry about.

“Hell, no. That part I can live with. But here’s the thing, Lyddie. A whole lot of other people have been making a point of talking to me. Seems they all want me to know that J.T. has supposedly been spotted paying close attention to a string of tourists, if you know what I mean.”

Thank God for the steam rising from the coffee Lyddie was dumping into the sink. Not only did it hide her face, but it also gave her an excuse for the coughing fit that struck from nowhere.

J.T. and tourists?
Oh, hell.
She didn’t believe it. Not for a second. Not only had he spent all his recent nights with her, but she was pretty sure there was no way he would have the energy to leave her as limp as he did while doing someone else in the daytime.

But if people were telling Nadine about these supposed dalliances...

“At first I thought folks were just sharing the usual gossip and slander, but then I thought, y’know, I don’t usually hear the same story from so many folks so close together. So I said to myself, ‘self, people are telling me this for a reason.’ And there was only one thing that came to my mind.” Her hand settled on Lyddie’s shoulder. “Honey. You and J.T.? Really?”

Lyddie froze.

“Ah, hell.” Nadine took the pot from Lyddie’s fingers, clunked it on the counter and reached to turn the water off. “How did I miss this? I must be getting old. Maybe I should retire. Can you get someone to take my shift tomorrow?”

“For heaven’s sake, Nadine, get a grip. You’re going to outlive all of us.”

“I don’t know. I’m losing my touch.”

“What if you’re not losing anything? What if you’re just plain wrong?”

“Wrong?” Nadine snorted and leaned against the butcher-block island. “Okay, Lyddie. Look me in the eye and tell me you aren’t rolling in the hay with J.T.”

Lyddie tried. She stared at Nadine and tried to stay sober, tried to think of boring things like shopping and washing dishes and interminable sermons. But shopping made her remember J.T. buying the test. And dishes made her remember the way he’d dabbed soap suds on her neck the other night, then slowly toweled them off. And sermons made her remember exactly what she’d been doing last Sunday when she would normally have been in church. And before she knew it, Nadine was sitting back with an annoyingly satisfied smirk on her face.

“Sit down and tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” Lyddie sat anyway, if only because her feet hurt. “But I have some questions of my own.”

“Uh-uh. Not until you give up some answers.”

“Nadine—”

“Nope. It’s tit for tat, or nothing at all.”

“I should dock your pay for this.”

“Go ahead. You know I’m independently wealthy and only do this to keep me entertained.”

Lyddie sighed and sank down in the chair, pulling her left foot up to rest on her right knee. “Fine. Two questions. That’s it.”