Brenda Harlen - Once and Again

Now she thought she could probably talk about it and not fall to pieces. Maybe. But now wasn’t about making excuses and explanations for what had happened so many years before. Now was about being here for Kristin, if she would let her.

“I really want to stay mad at you,” Kristin said, “but I just don’t have the energy right now.”

It wasn’t forgiveness, but it was a start.

“Do you really want to help?”

“Of course,” Jess said quickly.

Her friend hesitated, as if reluctant to ask anything of her, as if she expected her to refuse.

“For the past few months I’ve been working in Nick’s office, just a few hours a day, answering phones and filing orders.”

Uh-oh. Like a runaway train, Jess could see where this was going but had no idea how to stop it. She could only brace herself and wait for the inevitable collision.

“Obviously I won’t be able to be there for the next couple of days, and I hate to leave him in the lurch.”

“I, uh, I really don’t have any experience with that kind of work.”

“Of course,” Kristin said coolly. “You’d have a secretary of your own for such things.”

Jess sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

“Just that Nick might prefer to hire someone from a temp agency—someone who would know what they were doing.”

“He tried that when his secretary went off on maternity leave, but the agency has a policy against sending staff to residential premises. That’s why I’ve been helping him out.”

“I don’t know,” Jess said uneasily.

“It’s not rocket science, Jessica. I’m sure someone with two college degrees can figure it out.”

It was a challenge, and probably the last opportunity Kristin would be willing to give her to make amends. As much as Jess wanted to limit her interactions with Nick, she couldn’t refuse her friend’s request.

“Then I’ll try to figure it out.”

It was almost nine-thirty when Jessica left the hospital. Despite the circumstances of her visit, she’d enjoyed sitting and talking with Kristin. Their conversation had been a little strained, but not nearly as uncomfortable as she’d expected given the tension she’d felt between them earlier that day. At least, not until Kristin had maneuvered Jess into helping out in Nick’s office.

It wasn’t that she had any objection to the type of work—it was the idea of being close to Nick that made her uneasy. In fact, everything about Nick made her uneasy. She didn’t want to believe that she still had unresolved feelings for him—not after so many years had passed.

But even hours after their confrontation earlier that day, she was still unsettled. She decided to walk off her restless energy.

She set out without any particular destination in mind, yet when she found herself following the well-worn path through the trees at the back of Kristin and Brian’s property, she’d known it was inevitable that she’d end up here. The pull of the memories was simply too strong to resist.

The wrought-iron bench on the bank of the creek had been there for as long as she could remember. She ran a hand over the curved back, the metal cool and smooth beneath her palm. She lowered herself onto the seat, folded her knees against her chest, wrapped her arms around them. Then she tipped her head back to look at the sky and finally let herself remember.

She’d charmed an unopened bottle of champagne out of the bartender and slipped through the back of the tent into the darkness. It was only after she’d made her way down to the creek that Jess realized she’d forgotten a glass. She decided it didn’t matter—she could just as easily drink a toast to her best friend without one.

It was harder than she’d anticipated to work the cork out of the bottle, but at last it gave way with a satisfying “pop.” She heard a slight rustle of leaves as it sailed into the trees, and was grateful there had been no witnesses to her struggling ineptitude. There was no one around at all—the bride and groom had gone long ago, the rest of the guests shortly after.

But Jess wasn’t ready to go home. Not yet.

She stood on the edge of the mossy bank, under the light of the moon and the stars, and took a sip of champagne directly from the bottle. The bubbles danced on her tongue, tickled her throat. She’d decided, after the single glass she’d had with dinner, that she quite liked champagne and didn’t understand why it was typically reserved for special occasions.

She took another sip and tried to remember how many times she’d sat in this very spot with her best friend, sharing hopes and dreams for their future. But with Kristin and Brian’s wedding, their lives had taken different directions, and the realization made Jessica’s heart sigh. Even as she was looking forward to new opportunities, she couldn’t help but mourn the childhood she was leaving behind.

She heard another rustling in the leaves, and her heart skipped a beat before it started pumping again, just a little stronger and faster than before. Because she knew, even before she turned to see him step through the trees, that it was Nick. Just as she knew that whatever her purported reasons for coming out here, she’d really been waiting for him.

“I thought everyone had gone,” he said.

“Almost everyone.”

He eyed the bottle in her hand. “Where’d you get that?”

“The bartender.”

“You’re underage, Jess.”

“If my best friend’s old enough to get married, surely I’m entitled to have a drink at her wedding.”

“A drink, maybe,” he agreed, deftly removing the bottle from her grasp. “Not a dozen.”

She pouted. “Go away, Nick.”

He studied her for a long moment, his gaze dark and inscrutable. “I should,” he said at last.

“Then do it. You certainly didn’t have any trouble ignoring me earlier tonight.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you danced with almost every woman at the reception tonight—except me.”

His gaze shifted guiltily. “I think that’s a slight exaggeration.”

She shook her head. She knew, because she hadn’t been able to tear her eyes off of him all night, hadn’t stopped hoping he would turn to her, take her in his arms. Just a dance—that was all she’d wanted. An innocent memory to lock away in her heart and take with her when she was gone.

But he’d denied her that. And now he was refusing to even acknowledge the slight.

“Every one except Barb Kenner, who was attached at the hip to her new fiancé, your Aunt Helen, who can barely walk because of her arthritis, and me.”

“It wasn’t a deliberate oversight.”

“Wasn’t it?”

He scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. “Hell, I don’t know, Jess. Maybe it was.”

She felt the sting of tears at the back of her eyes and cursed the fact that Nick had always been painfully honest with her.

“Do you want the truth?” he asked.

She swallowed, not sure if her bruised heart could survive another beating tonight. “Maybe not.”

“Coward.”

She lifted her chin so that she could glare at him.

He chuckled. “You’re so predictable.”

“And you’re such an ass.”

Nick took a step closer, traced a finger along the top of her dress, over the swell of her breasts. She sucked in a breath as her skin heated, burned, in response to his touch. The last traces of amusement in his eyes faded, gave way to something deeper. Something that both thrilled and terrified her.

“The truth is—” he dropped his hand away, took a careful step back “—from the moment I saw you standing at the back of the church in this dress, all I could think about was how much I wanted to get you out of it.”