Where Yesterday Lives (36 page)

“That’s right.” She set two place mats side by side on the counter and filled two glasses with ice water. He joined her with the food and they sat down. “The way these things look you still could.”

“Nah. You’d be my best customer and you live a million miles away.”

“Eighteen hundred miles, to be exact.”

“Like I said,” his voice was suddenly serious, “a million miles away.” He glanced at her and their eyes held for a moment too long.

He grinned, trying to break the tension. “So since you can’t be around, the shop would probably go bust in a week. You’re the only one who ever liked my omelettes.”

She opened her mouth, teasingly astonished. “Jake! You mean you cooked omelettes for someone other than me? Shame on you!”

“I know.” He grinned. “The ultimate betrayal.”

“That’s right. Don’t forget it, either.”

They laughed, and Ellen savored how comfortable they were together. He excused himself and slipped a Christopher Cross CD into the player. Music filled the house through an intricate sound system, and Ellen smiled. They had both enjoyed Christopher Cross years ago and she remembered listening to his songs between movies at the drive-in theater. The atmosphere was soothing and she felt herself relax.

Ellen ate her omelette slowly, remembering dozens of times when she and Jake had done this before. It was a simple thing, really. Eating omelettes in the waning afternoon sunlight, sitting side by side alone in his house, listening to Christopher Cross. But it took her back, made her keenly aware of him and the fact that they were alone.

What did you expect?
she chastised herself. She didn’t even try to answer that. She was afraid to do so. When they were finished they washed dishes together and put away food. Their conversation was light and when their elbows touched on occasion as they worked, they pretended not to notice.

“I’m stuffed.” Jake stretched.

“Me too.” She focused her attention on the pan she was drying. “You forget how filling an omelette can be. Especially if it’s been created by the master omelette maker himself.” She grinned at him.

When the kitchen was clean they went out back onto the partially covered wooden deck. The sun would set in a few hours and Ellen gazed thoughtfully across the bay toward Petoskey A gentle breeze flowed across the water and the sky was free of clouds, a vast expanse of vivid blue.

Ellen walked to the edge of the deck and leaned against the railing, studying the sandy beach below. “You’re right on the sand.”

Jake moved up beside her and leaned against the railing. “Hmm. I guess I always did have a thing for the beach.”

Ellen smiled, enjoying the easy sense of camaraderie they shared. It used to be like this with Mike. They used to share long, lovely days just being together, enjoying each other. She stared across the water and studied the distant shoreline. She could make out Petoskey State Park and Magnus Park. She could even see the pier at Bayfront with its dozens of sailboats and yachts, the flags that flew year round, and the beautifully kept softball fields. After a while she wandered toward a porch swing and sat down.

She looked at Jake and patted the empty spot beside her. He sauntered in her direction and sat down, careful not to brush his legs against hers. She was silently thankful. Her resolve was vanishing at an alarming rate and any contact with him was bound to make things worse. As if he could sense her feelings, he moved casually toward the outside of the swing, allowing a comfortable distance between them.

“Dad always wanted a house like this,” Ellen said. She set the swing gently in motion. “On weekends we’d come look at these houses, and he’d talk about starting a business with his computer.” She looked at Jake. “There was always a reason why that business never got started, always something in the way.”

Jake sat there, watching her, listening.

“When I was little I thought my dad was the best man in the world, the most fun, the strongest. He could do anything he set his mind to. The whole nine yards.”

Jake looked intently into her eyes. “And now?”

“I’m not sure.”

He looked puzzled and she shook her head quickly

“Don’t get me wrong. No one could ever take his place. But when I grew up I saw a clearer picture of him. I don’t know, maybe it’s only gotten clearer since his death. I think about his dreams and intentions, the times he was going to stop smoking, start a diet.”

Her eyes narrowed, seeing a thousand missed opportunities, and suddenly she felt the tears building. “You know what he said when he came out of heart surgery last year? He said he was through making excuses. Through procrastinating. He was going to be a new man, whatever it took.”

Jake’s face filled with compassion. “It didn’t happen.”

“No.” She shook her head sadly, a single tear spilling from each eye onto her cheeks. “He wasn’t strong enough.”

“That bothers you?”

“Yes.” She raised her voice. “I thought the world of him, Jake. But in reality he was just like anyone else. Just a man
struggling to follow through with his intentions and failing in the end.”

The swing had slowed and she set it in motion again.

“Are you mad at him?” Jake’s voice was barely a whisper.

“That’s hard.” Ellen gazed thoughtfully at the sky. The sun was beginning to set, blazing a brilliant trail of pinks and oranges as it disappeared. She looked at Jake again. “I guess I am, in some ways. He could have had a house like this, a yard like this. He could have started the business and made it fly and when he had to go through emergency bypass surgery it could have been a turning point in his life. He had the chances, Jake, but he didn’t take them. He wasn’t strong enough. That’s what kills me.”

She spread her fingers on her chest. “In here, where the little girl I used to be still lives, I know he could have done it. I guess a part of me thinks he didn’t try He gave up and sold us short.” Her voice cracked and she stopped swinging. Then slowly, she dropped her elbows to her knees and buried her face in her hands.

“Why, Jake? Why didn’t he at least try?”

Jake reached over and rested his hand on her shoulder. His fingers made soothing circles just beneath her neck. “I’m sure he tried. At least give him that.”

“Not hard enough.” She looked up, knowing she must look blotchy and tearstained and not caring. “What’s a pack of cigarettes compared to us? What’s a cheeseburger or a bag of fries compared to your family? I mean, how hard could it be to give up that stuff when the alternative meant dying young, leaving us alone?”

“Ellen, come on. You’re not being fair. If it was that easy, heart disease wouldn’t be the killer it is today You know that.”

She slumped over her knees, her face in her hands again. “I know.”

Taking deep breaths, she worked to calm herself down. She wiped her eyes with her fingertips. Jake’s arm was still on her
shoulder, but when she sat up he removed it.

“Was he always like that?” Her voice was tired. “Weak, unable to follow through with things?”

“You tell me, Ellen.”

She thought a moment. “He worked three jobs to keep food on the table when we were little. And every Christmas there were so many toys under our tree it looked like something out of a fairy tale.”

Jake nodded. “He put you through college, didn’t he?”

“I paid for my books with tips from the restaurant. But he paid for everything else.” Ellen grew quiet. “And he sent me to Canada for a vacation after I graduated,”

“He wasn’t weak, Ellen. He just had some nasty habits, habits that were too hard to break.”

“Habits that killed him.” Ellen wiped at several fresh tears forging a new trail down her cheeks. “I loved him so much, Jake. Now that he’s gone nothing makes sense. My whole world is falling apart.”

She began to sob again, squeezing her eyes tight as if she could shut out the pain. She felt his arm go around her.

“I know.” His voice was deep and filled with understanding.

Ellen opened her eyes and gazed at the sky, but her tears kept coming. The blurred pinks and oranges were fading to dark now and the moon appeared in the distance, a shiny sliver in the sky. Time passed and still they sat that way, Jake with his arm around her while she cried for her father. Gradually her tears slowed and then finally stopped. She lifted her head and remained silent, allowing the breeze to dry her face and clear her eyes.

“You okay?” Jake broke the silence first. He took his arm off her shoulder and turned to face her.

She gulped, searching for her voice and nodded. “I have to let him go. I guess this is just the beginning.”

Jake smiled tenderly. “It wouldn’t hurt so much if he hadn’t been such a great man. Do you see that now?”

“I never doubted that.” She stared at him thoughtfully. “I only wondered if the man I admired wasn’t perhaps some wonderful figment of my imagination, someone who never really existed at all.”

“He existed, Ellen. I can see him in your sorrow, in my own memories. Believe me. He existed.”

Ellen smiled self-consciously and released a short laugh as she pushed her hair back from her face. “I must look awful.”

Jake wiped his thumb just below her right eye where her mascara must have run. “No, Ellen. You’ve never looked more beautiful.”

Ellen laughed again and sniffed. “Right.”

Jake studied her a moment longer, then his face lit up. “Hey, you haven’t seen the hot tub.”

Ellen rose slowly from the swing, stretching her back and taking a deep breath. “Lead the way.”

He moved easily down a circular redwood stairway off one end of the deck. At the bottom of the stairs, toward the left side of his house, there was a neatly manicured lawn that butted up against the sand. The hot tub was centered on a grassy knoll in the middle of the lawn. It had a spectacular view of the bay. Ellen saw that it was easily large enough for six people. Three sides were covered with redwood lattice that lent intimate privacy but did not block the view.

Jake lifted the edge of the tub’s cover and steam released into the cool night air.

Ellen whistled appreciatively “Looks good.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Wanna go in?”

She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t. Not alone with Jake, not as vulnerable as she was feeling right now. Instead she should ask Jake to take her home before she forgot why it was important to do so.

Jake was waiting. She shook her head. “I don’t have a suit.”

“Ah, come on, Ellen. I have a spare lying around somewhere.”

Ellen tilted her head and gave Jake a sad, knowing look. She thought about her conversation with Leslie, her argument with Mike. And about her father’s Bible. She saw his words in her mind again:
“Hold fast to your faith Temptation is a given; look for the way out! It is possible to fall!”

When she spoke, her words were little more than a choked whisper. “I can’t, Jake.”

Ellen watched him and knew he understood. He reached for her hand. “Okay. No hot tub. Let’s go back up and watch the lights.” He smiled softly at her. “There’s one spot along the deck that has the most incredible view.”

Ellen exhaled softly and allowed Jake to lead her back up the stairs. As they walked, she thought about sitting beside Jake, watching the dazzling lights of Petoskey across Little Traverse Bay while hot water swirled around them. She shivered.
That was close. Thank you, Lord.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Jake directed her to an alcove with a cozy wooden bench. The railing dipped along that part of the deck so that the view of the bay was unobstructed. They sat down together, gazing out at the water.

“Beautiful.” Ellen’s eyes narrowed as she took in the distant lights and the bay as it shimmered under the glow of the moon. They sat there in comfortable silence, eventually leaning back and taking in the stars as well. Ellen closed her eyes and felt the tension melt away.

She grew vaguely aware of something… something that bothered her. A strange buzzing sound. Opening her eyes, she looked down to see a bumble bee making its way up her shoulder, toward her back. She screamed and batted at the insect, knocking it off her arm—but not before it stung her.

“Owww!” She jumped to her feet, glancing about, making sure the insect was gone.

Jake was up and at her side instantly. He took her arm gently and examined the red welt that had already appeared. He frowned, concerned. “Looks like he got you.”

Ellen winced. “I know I can feel it.” She furrowed her brow and strained to see the sting. “Can you see a stinger?”

Jake moved closer and examined the raised area. They stood toe-to-toe, a breeze from the bay swaying about them, separated only by a thin veil of night air. “It’s hard to see in this light.” He ran a finger over the sting. “Wait. I think I feel it.” His face was inches from hers. He gently pulled the tiny stinger loose and examined it. “There. I think I got it all.”

“Ooo. It hurts.” Ellen strained once more to see the welt.

“Sometimes if you rub it real good it doesn’t hurt so bad.” He still held her arm with one hand, and with the other he rubbed his fingers firmly over the sore area. “Is that better?” He looked up and their eyes locked.

The mood changed instantly and the air around them seemed suddenly charged with electricity. The familiarity of the moment, the impossibility of it, enveloped them. Almost of its own accord, Ellen’s arm went up and around Jake’s neck and he pulled her imperceptibly closer.

They were twenty years old again, crazy in love and aware of no one but each other. Their gazes locked, their faces inches apart. Then even that distance disappeared until it seemed to Ellen that the only thing she’d ever wanted to do was give in to the desire that had grown between them that week.

Ellen’s breath rasped in her throat; her pulse pounded so she was sure Jake could hear it.
Just once. I’ll kiss him and then let him go. Just once.

But even as she tried to justify her intentions she knew she was lying to herself. If she kissed him now, it wouldn’t stop there. If she became involved with Jake Sadler after so many years, there would be no turning back. No marriage to go back to. No faith to restore.