Paper Hearts (24 page)

T
HE DAY AFTER THE ACCIDENT,
both Junie and Kate were released from the hospital, and while Jacob was relieved, the effects their pain had on him lingered.

More than once Kate had asked if he was okay. More than once he’d lied and told her everything was fine.

Saving that little girl’s life had reignited something inside him, but that flame had gone out the second he got Kate’s call.

Junie seemed to be in a daze, content to stare at the television and try not to move.

“She’ll get back to her happy self very soon,” the doctor told them as they were wheeling her down to the front door of the hospital.

Jacob wanted to ask how this man knew that Junie had a happy self, but he decided to let it slide. No sense getting into a fight with the doctor
 
—he was just trying to do his job. Still, it irritated him. Had Jacob been that kind of doctor? The kind who presumed to
know more than he did? Was that why Gwen had been such a difficult case for everyone? Because he got in the way, diagnosing conditions and disorders he knew nothing about?

“But you’re a doctor; you would know.”
That’s what they’d all said to him. Like he should’ve known better. Should’ve helped her somehow.

His failure taunted him all day.

“Jacob?” Kate stood in the kitchen wearing pajamas with an oversize sweatshirt and a pair of fuzzy slippers that looked more like boots. She wore no makeup, and her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. The color had gone from her cheeks, and a bandage was stuck to her forehead.

“Hey, do you want some juice?” Jacob poured her a glass. “You need to go lie down.”

“I know.” Kate stood on the other side of the island as if she had more to say. “The doctor came and talked to me. He’s concerned.”

“Why? Did they find something more wrong with you?”

“Not with me. With you.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “He’s concerned about
me
.”

“He said your reaction to the accident was worrisome.”

“Kate, after everything we’ve been through
 
—”

“That’s what I told him. I said you just had to process it all because of some personal trauma.”

Jacob turned away. Now the doctors were evaluating him. He couldn’t even grieve in a way that made sense. Couldn’t shed a tear without someone making it a cause of concern.

“You aren’t responsible for what happened to us, Jacob. It was just an accident.”

Her words danced around his head, but he refused to let them in. She stood in front of him, making him look her in the face.

“You aren’t responsible for what happened to Gwen either.” Kate’s eyes filled with tears.

He shook his head. “You don’t know that.”

“I do too. I was there. I saw the way you loved her, the way you always took care of her. You did everything right, Jacob.”

“And it still wasn’t enough.” Jacob hated the thick ball of pain at the back of his throat. All these months he’d been pushing it down, and it always found a way to return.

Kate reached over and put a hand on his arm. “Everyone’s okay. You need to get that. You have to stop trying to be everybody’s hero all the time.” She took her juice, poured another glass for Junie, and went back into the living room, leaving him there alone.

He stood in the kitchen staring at the wall, trying to consider Kate’s words rationally, when his sister called out to him.

“You need to get in here,” she said.

He rushed toward the living room, heart racing. “Is everyone okay?”

Junie had fallen asleep and Kate sat in front of the television, watching the news.

“Look.”

Kelly stood in front of his building, wind blowing her hair, alongside a reporter holding a microphone in front of her face. “We have huge plans for this building
 
—you know, it’s something of a landmark for Loves Park. We wanted to celebrate that.”

“When you say ‘we,’ of course, you mean you and the building’s owner, Dr. Jacob Willoughby,” the reporter followed up.

“Yes. Jacob is the most incredible family practice doctor. In fact, he saved a little girl’s life in this very building just last night. His new practice will be unlike anything you’ll find in the sterile walls of a hospital. We’ve got so many amazing ideas in store.”

“Television? Is there a television station in Loves Park?” Jacob stared at the screen in disbelief.

The reporter flipped the mike back at herself. “Can you share any with us?”

“Well.” Kelly tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I can tell you
that we’re going to transform this building and create a welcoming, homey environment where we can diagnose your ailments and find the very best way to get you on track for a speedy recovery. You won’t even feel like you’re in a doctor’s office at all.”

Kate groaned.

“And what are the plans for Abigail Pressman’s Book Nook? Will she be a part of this redesign?”

Kelly glanced at Abigail’s store behind her. “We expect our remodel to include the entire building, but we certainly wish Miss Pressman the very best of luck with her little store.”

The camera returned to the reporter, who smiled, thanked Kelly, and said something about bringing more news on this story as it developed, leaving Jacob with a sour taste in his mouth.

Kate was staring at him. No, make that a glare. Kate was glaring at him.

He groaned. “Don’t even say it.”

“What were you thinking, getting into business with that woman?” Kate hissed the words so as not to wake Junie.

“I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“Jacob, you have to fix this.”

Great. Something else that needed fixing. As if his daughter’s leg, his sister’s head, and his entire life weren’t enough. “What is a television station doing covering the news in Loves Park anyway?”

“Loves Park is a tourist town, Jacob. What did you expect? Abigail’s store is well-known. I saw it in one of the travel journals as a ‘must-stop.’ They have a little station with round-the-clock Loves Park coverage. Helps visitors figure out what to do when they’re here.” Kate clicked the television off.

Jacob paced. “Maybe it’s better this way. Let Kelly figure out the business side of things and let me get on with my life. Isn’t that what you said I should do?”

Kate stood. “Are you crazy? This is not getting on with your life. This is destroying someone else’s.”

Jacob remembered something he’d meant to ask her. “Kate, what happened to Abigail this morning?”

Kate shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess she came back to the hospital
 
—Kelly brought in the coffee and that stuff from the house, but Abigail must have given them to her.”

“Why wouldn’t she just bring them herself?”

“Jacob, there’s no way she wouldn’t have come back in to check on all of us, unless . . .”

He let out a long breath. “Unless Kelly said something to her.”

Kate put her hands on her hips. “You’re really sending Abigail some mixed messages, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Holding her hand at the hospital. Asking her to stay with you there. Kicking her out of her building.”

“My building.”

“Whatever. You’re being a jerk. Do you even know how she got home, Jacob? She rode to the hospital with you. How did she get home?”

Jacob sighed. He didn’t need this right now.

He grabbed his coat and the car keys, but before he reached the door, Kate stopped him.

“She even brought Junie’s teddy bear to the hospital.”

Jacob turned. “I know, Kate. Remember how happy I was you told her to do that?”

Kate picked up the stuffed animal from the couch and held it in front of him. “Look at it.”

The two paper hearts had been pinned to its chest with delicate care. He knew because he’d pinned them there months ago. Sometimes he found hearts in Junie’s bedroom, tucked under her pillow or used as bookmarks for whatever picture book she fell asleep reading.

They always said the same basic thing.
I miss you, Mommy.
Or
Come back home.

In her six-year-old mind, Junie still didn’t understand what it meant for someone to die. Jacob thought she’d decided her mom had just left home for a really long time. He couldn’t bring himself to correct her.

“You think she knows?” His stomach dropped. If Abigail knew he’d written the original hearts, it wouldn’t be long before everyone knew. Then the questions would begin. The truth would come out. And suddenly Junie’s absent mom would be replaced in her mind by a skeleton or some other horrifying image, and Jacob’s medical practice would be over before it started.

What kind of person would want someone like him for a doctor, anyway?

Kate just shrugged and walked away, leaving Jacob standing in the kitchen with his coat on, keys in hand and no desire to go anywhere.

Still, he opened the front door and was surprised to find Abigail standing there, arms loaded with what appeared to be a box of dishes.

She wore a miserable expression and possibly a scowl, both reserved for him, he was sure.

“Gigi made me bring this over,” she said, annoyance in her voice.

“She made you?”

A shrug.

“Come in.”

She hesitated but finally relented, and when she walked past him, he inhaled a deep breath, wanting to memorize the scent of her, wondering if this could be one of the last times he ever spoke with Abigail Pressman.

A
BIGAIL WAS STILL IN DISBELIEF.
Why had she gone along with this?

“Let me get that.” Jacob took the box from her hands, leaving Abigail with only the couple of items she’d brought for Junie and Kate.

“I just have a few books and things for Junie, and I brought some of that coffee Kate likes so much.” She began pulling things from the bag on her shoulder, but he stopped her.

“Come in. You can give it to them yourself.”

When Gigi had arrived at The Book Nook with a box of food for the Willoughbys, Abigail practically slammed her office door in the old woman’s face.

“There is no way I am taking this to that man. He can eat dog food for all I care.” She plopped in her chair. “Actually, he can’t do that. The man is so heartless he doesn’t even feed the dog.”

Gigi looked puzzled but ignored her. “This is part of your duty, Miss Pressman. We take care of the sick and wounded whether we want to or not.”

“And what about the psychopathic and deranged?”

“You were so sympathetic to him yesterday, dear. What’s changed? He’s still a human being, one of God’s creatures. He deserves our care.”

Abigail didn’t want to take care of Jacob or anyone else. She wanted every distraction to go away so she could figure out what in the world to do about Kelly’s ultimatum. Three months. She couldn’t find a decent apartment in that time, let alone a new space for The Book Nook.

Worse, Abigail had finished reading the most recent paper hearts earlier today, and while she couldn’t be positive, she had the distinct impression that her couple had split up.

The fact that it was affecting her mood tonight was beyond ridiculous, but there it was. Not that she’d tell Gigi any of that.

In the end, she’d been guilted and bribed into delivering a casserole, a pot of homemade soup, two different desserts, and an assortment of side dishes to one Dr. Jacob Willoughby.

Now she stood in his entryway wishing she could disappear.

She followed him into the kitchen, reminding herself that despite his charm and good looks, he was even more her enemy now than on the day she first met him.

Never mind that a part of her actually liked him. Never mind that today she’d relived the way her hand had felt wrapped inside his more times than she would ever admit. Never mind that she sometimes accidentally thought about what it would be like to kiss him and she always, always ended up with a racing heart and flushed cheeks.

This man is ruining your life.

And he didn’t even have the courage to do it himself. He had a
business manager
to do his dirty work for him.

He set the box down on the counter and started unpacking its contents. “This is a lot of food.”

She shifted. “Gigi is very serious about her cooking.”

“You mean you didn’t make all this?” He shot her a sideways glance.

“Most nights my dinner consists of a can of soup and a piece of toast,” she said. “I promise I didn’t make any of that.” She didn’t even care what he thought of her lack of cooking skills. She was done caring about this man’s view of her.

He smiled. It was a nice smile, as always. Figured.

“You should stay for dinner.”

“Me? Oh no, I can’t.” Abigail looked away.

“I insist. There’s a ton of food here, and we can’t eat it all.” He caught her gaze. “Besides, I owe you a thank-you.”

The seconds ticked by before she could respond. “You don’t owe me anything.”

He took a step closer. Close enough to set her heart racing but not close enough to make her palms sweat. Yet.

“Thank you for coming with me to the hospital. I-I know I . . .”

“It’s okay.”

“No. It’s not. I’m sorry. I just don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to them.”

Abigail saw that same tortured look on his face, and she thought about the things Hailey had told her about Kate. How did she break the news to Jacob that the doctors thought his sister had been beaten? Repeatedly? Maybe it wasn’t her business. Maybe she could justify keeping that to herself. Hailey shouldn’t have told her in the first place. Maybe it would be enough if she just told Kate she knew and offered her a shoulder to cry on. Or whatever a battered woman might need. A punching bag? A box of chocolates? A new identity?

Her mind spun. She didn’t want to be privy to anyone’s secrets.

Except maybe Jacob’s. She still found herself wondering what it was he kept hidden.

Jacob reached out and took her hand. “I know you probably really hate me right now, but I . . .”

He seemed incapable of finishing his thought. Instead he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger on her cheek.

What in the world?

She swallowed, her throat dry. Her lips
 
—dry. Oh. No. Her lips were dry. What if he tried to kiss her and her lips were like sandpaper? What if their lips stuck together from all her dryness, or worse, what if she wet her lips and it all went sloppy, not unlike her first kiss with Ryan Brooks in the ninth grade?

Now her palms were sweating.

“I’m really glad you were there,” he said, hand still hanging out on her cheek.

She didn’t reply. What could she say? Her mind had turned to oatmeal, and all she could think about was the current moisture status of her lips.

When Kate walked in, Jacob practically tore his hand away from her face. The calm demeanor she’d grown accustomed to disappeared as he buried his head in the box of food.

Kate watched him, then gave Abigail a questioning look.

“I brought food,” Abigail said.

Kate’s smile started behind her eyes and traveled to her lips. A smile from someone who knew exactly what she’d walked in on but had decided to pretend otherwise.

“I was going to go lie down for a little bit before dinner. Is that still okay?”

“Of course,” Jacob said. “Is Junie sleeping?”

“I moved her into her room.” Kate started toward the door. “So you guys will have the place all to yourselves for a little while.” She looked amused. “You know, in case you need some privacy.”

“Kate.” Jacob’s tone sounded like a warning shot.

She held up her hands and backed out of the room.

“Sorry,” he said, meeting Abigail’s eyes.

“I should probably go.”

“Because you’re mad at me.”

She looked away.
Yes. Because I’m mad at you. And because I’ve already started obsessing about the smell of your aftershave.

“I don’t know what Kelly said to you . . .” Jacob paused as if waiting for her to tell him, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t repeat the humiliating words out loud. Maybe he hadn’t asked Kelly to tell her to stay away from him, but he certainly would’ve authorized her new three-month deadline. And here he stood, pretending to be unaware of all of it?

“I heard she was on the news.”

Jacob looked away. “I didn’t know about that either.”

“Sounds like your employee is out of control,” Abigail said.

For a brief moment, he looked like he might smile. “You
are
mad at me.”

Her pulse quickened. “That store is my life.”

“And you don’t think you could have a life without that store?” He watched her, waiting for an answer to a question she’d asked herself a thousand times. He couldn’t understand that without it, she had nothing. Less than nothing.

She’d fade off into oblivion and disappear forever. Prove to herself that she really was a hopeless cause.

“I don’t really want to find out.” She chewed the inside of her lip, working up the courage to say what she really wanted to say. “I just wish you’d told me yourself instead of having Kelly do it.” But she knew he didn’t owe her that. They weren’t even friends
 
—not by any definition Abigail had ever known. The problem was, this thing with him felt so impersonal and so personal at the same time.

“Abigail, I can explain
 
—”

“And the way you went on and on about how stupid the paper hearts were, but your own daughter has them pinned to her teddy bear.” The hypocrisy of that needled her. She’d recently concluded that, most likely, this little girl had discovered the tradition of the hearts because her father had introduced them to her. The real question was why. Why did he come home after disapproving of Abigail for hanging them, then coax Junie into writing her own? Did he actually see the value in putting feelings on paper?

And if so, why didn’t he say so? Couldn’t he at least give Abigail credit for that? At least admit that something she’d done had been worthwhile
 
—not just for the community, but for his family?

Not that it mattered. Now that Kelly had the reins, Abigail didn’t stand a chance.

He started to speak but quickly went quiet. Finally he said, “She misses her mom.”

“And the hearts are a great way for her to express what she’s feeling.” Abigail crossed her arms. “My store is bringing that safety, that inspiration, to the rest of the community
 
—don’t you see? It’s not just about money or books or coffee for me.” She thought of stocking the shelves with her father when she was young. Of all the conversations she’d had in that store with customers over the years. Of all the dreams she’d had of finally making it her own. Anger wound itself in a tight ball in her belly. “You’re taking that all away.”

He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“No. If you were really sorry, you’d stop doing this. You’d call off your attack dog and let me stay in my store.” Apparently anger fueled her courage.

“I will find a way to make it up to you; I promise.”

Tears sprang to her eyes and she closed them, turning away so he wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing her cry. “I have to go.”

“Abigail, please.” He grabbed her arm, but she couldn’t make
eye contact. She couldn’t stand the disappointment of what he was doing to her.

“I think if things were different, we could’ve actually been friends,” she said. “Maybe that’s what’s saddest of all.”

She pulled her arm from his grasp and slipped out the door, holding back tears even when the sharp wind struck her face on the way to the car. But as soon as she pulled away, her pain spilled out onto her cheeks like a stream of heat she had no hope of containing.