Pamela Hearon - My Way Back to You

“Cool!” Russ tore into a package and held it across the seat. “Want some, Mom?”

“No, thanks.”

Jeff couldn’t help but notice the white-knuckle grip Maggie had on the wheel. She was creeping along, obviously uncomfortable with city driving and they weren’t even out of the airport yet. At this pace, they wouldn’t get checked in until tomorrow.

“I’d be happy to drive,” he offered, and saw her jaw tighten in response.

“Thanks, but I’ve got it.” Her cool tone said she was already pissed, and they’d barely been together fifteen minutes.

Just like old times.

It was going to be three long days.

Three very long days.

CHAPTER TWO

IT HAD BEEN the afternoon from hell.

A wreck on the Kennedy stalled traffic for over half an hour, and Michigan Avenue had been like a parking lot, which was ironic because an actual parking lot with any available spots wasn’t to be found. Finally, Maggie opted to park at The Drake Hotel since they were staying there. Then the three of them practically jogged the few blocks to Loyola’s Water Tower campus, Russ pulling the luggage that would get him through the night, Maggie’s sandals slapping against her soles in a rhythmic fashion that mimicked the clip-clop of the horses pulling carriages along the Chicago downtown streets. The trio slid into their seats just as Coach Brimley welcomed everyone to the Windy City.

Maggie ran her fingers through her hair and found her previously fluffy do plastered to her scalp. Speed walking in the heat and humidity had wilted her humidity-control hairspray, and she was certain the makeup she’d so carefully applied that morning had vanished also. Her feet ached from the hard walk in the stylish-but-not-made-for-running leather thongs with kitten heels. To make bad matters worse, she hadn’t eaten since five that morning, and her stomach had been so tight then that she’d only managed a few bites. So throughout the meeting, her stomach gurgled often enough to cause the other parents to throw glances her way and Russ’s elbow to stay set in continual nudge mode. The lady next to her offered her some mints, which she accepted, but they just made her stomach work harder.

The only one who didn’t seem fazed by any of it was Jeff. After one particularly loud rumble that probably registered on the Richter scale, his eyes crinkled with mirth and the corners of his mouth twitched, but nothing more. She supposed Mr. California Cool was used to seismic activity.

“We’ve gone a little long here,” Coach Brimley said. “I didn’t mean to keep you into the dinner hour.” A titter of laughter moved through the group. “Any last questions?”

Maggie’s stomach chose then to emit a gargantuan rumble, which caused her face to heat to frying level.

The coach nodded her way. “Okay, then. The tour of the undergraduate campus will start at nine tomorrow. See you then.”

“Jeez, Mom.” Russ gave a relieved laugh as everyone stood and started to mill about. “Go get something to eat, will you? I don’t want my teammates thinking Kentucky’s a Third World country,” he said before turning to mingle himself.

Russ’s easy manner pulled people to him, just like his father’s had always done. Soon he was making introductions to her, and the names Maggie had heard so often of late materialized into real people.

And then, much too soon, Russ and his teammates were saying goodbye, heading to their new rooms at the residence hall on the Lake Shore Campus. Tomorrow they would officially move him in, but tonight was a chance for the members of the golf team to bond, solidifying the special friendships that would stay with them for the next four years—and for some a lifetime.

Or, at least, that was Maggie’s dream.

She looked at Jeff’s wistful expression as he watched their son walk away with his new friends, most of whom Russ had gotten to know via the internet. Was he sad their time as the major influences in Russ’s life was coming to an end? Or was he remembering that other kid who came to Kentucky from California on a golf scholarship and ended up having to forfeit it in order to work his way through the last two years of school while supporting a wife and baby?

Unlike the rare bad haircut she gave that could always be fixed one way or another, life didn’t give do-overs.

Even after Russ disappeared around the corner, Jeff continued looking. She saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard, then he turned to her, dark eyebrows and sculpted shoulders rising and falling in a connected movement. “You ready?”

Her voice remained trapped deep in her chest, but she managed a nod.

He stayed quiet, too, until they got outside, where the suffocating early August afternoon heat had started giving way to the evening breeze. “Now, that’s more like it.” Jeff slipped his sunglasses on, looking every inch like a movie star.

Maggie, on the other hand, felt like a contestant at the end of Survivor . “Can we walk slow?” she pleaded. “I can’t take another run in these shoes.”

Jeff pointed to her feet as he slowed his step. “Women and their sexy sandals. It’s a wonder your feet last your entire lifetime with the torture you put them through.”

Had he just referred to her footwear as sexy? Some spring returned to her step. “I didn’t realize we were going to be participating in a cross-country event, or I would’ve opted for something flatter and fully attached.”

He snorted. “Being from Kentucky, you could probably get away with going barefoot.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Jeff gave her a look that said you wouldn’t dare , and she arched an eyebrow in response.

He changed the subject. “Are you going to be okay with Russ’s living up here?”

The people and traffic on Michigan Avenue had thinned some since two hours ago, but it was still difficult to imagine Russ enjoying this crowded place for very long. A weekend was one thing, but four years was entirely different.

“I don’t like it,” she admitted. “I would’ve preferred the University of Kentucky. But we both know the scholarship was the key factor. He thinks he’s going to love it, but he hasn’t experienced a winter up here yet.”

“I don’t think I could stand the cold.” Jeff pointed to a café they were passing. “Want to grab a snack? I know you’re hungry.”

His familiar grin brought a strange tightening to her chest that stalled her breath for a second. She shook her head and kept walking, waiting for the air that was slow but finally returned. “Everyone from here to Navy Pier knows I’m hungry. But I won’t be seen in a restaurant on the Magnificent Mile looking like this.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Mags. You look great.”

Her stomach flip-flopped this time at the compliment...confirming the extent of her hunger. “Well, thanks, but I’ve promised myself a hot shower and a nice relaxing room service experience tonight.”

Entering the hotel lobby brought a sudden chill as the cold air met her damp clothing. She shivered in response as they hurried to grab the elevator. Oddly, in the crowded elevator that was quite warm, Jeff’s arm brushing against hers brought another shiver, deeper and more pleasant—though vastly disturbing. It was as if her body remembered things she wouldn’t allow her mind to think about.

They retrieved their luggage from the car, keeping the chatter to innocuous talk as they returned to the lobby, checked in and gave their luggage over to the bellman.

Jeff finished first but waited for her at the elevator. “I’m in seven fourteen,” he told her as they stepped in.

“Three eleven for me.”

He punched the floor buttons, and they stood alone in awkward silence for a moment as the elevator started its ascent.