This Time Around, page 14
“My mom wasn’t a huge fan of Lacey,” he said.
Now where the hell had that come from?
Allie looked at him and smiled. “How does she feel about you spending time with the woman who broke your heart sixteen years ago?”
He shrugged. “Guarded,” he admitted. “But she always thought highly of you. Even after we split.”
“She sent me a card during my parents’ trial,” Allie said. “Said she was thinking of me, hoped I was doing okay. That she knew how close I was to my mom and dad, and that she knew I loved them no matter what.”
Jack nodded. “I always envied what you had with your family. Both parents present and accounted for. Loving grandparents. The whole mess.”
“My grandmother adored you.” The fondness in Allie’s voice was unmistakable. “Said every woman needs a man who lights her up inside and leaves her glowing after he’s left the room.” She grinned. “Grandma could be a little passionate.”
“You don’t say.” Probably best not to bring up the sex toys. “Your mom couldn’t stand me.”
“She didn’t hate you.” Allie pressed her lips together. “Just didn’t think you were the right choice. My dad liked you, though. Still does.”
Hearing that made Jack feel warm from the inside out, like he’d swallowed a shot of whiskey. “I always wished I had a dad like yours.”
The sad look Allie shot him had Jack questioning whether it was smart to share this much. They were still easing back into their friendship, after all. But when she spoke, her voice was tinged with compassion, not pity.
“I remember that story you told me,” Allie said softly. “About the time your dad decided the two of you should hitchhike from Portland to Vegas. You were what, five?”
Jack gave a tight nod. “Almost six. By the time we finally got there, he was tired of hanging out with me, so he told me to sleep in the car while he and the driver—some guy we’d just met named Buddy—went into the casino and got wasted.”
Allie grimaced. “God, I can’t even imagine how your mom must’ve felt getting that phone call.”
Jack shook his head and gripped the steering wheel tighter. “‘I think I lost the kid, but I’m sure he’s around here someplace,’” Jack muttered in his closest approximation of his father’s voice. Then again, he hadn’t heard that voice for years. His memories were fuzzy.
“You think he remembers any of that?” Allie asked. “That trip or the things he did?”
“I have no idea. I hardly ever think about him.”
It sounded lousy saying it out loud, but it was true. He’d written his father off years ago, and with good reason.
“The trip wasn’t all bad,” she said in a voice as soft as the rain outside. “Your hitchhiking adventure, I mean. I remember you telling me about how he stopped at a truck stop along the way and gave you a whole handful of quarters to run the jukebox all night. Chased away anyone who tried to have a turn. You told me he picked you up and danced with you when you made it play ‘Boot Scootin’ Boogie.’”
A pang of sadness hit him square in the gut. Jack glanced at her, surprised she’d remembered that detail. He’d forgotten it himself. Leave it to Allie to focus on the good parts of the story. To push aside the ugly ones and hold tightly to the prettier pieces of memory.
He couldn’t think of anything to say, which was just as well since they’d arrived at Bumble. He started for a parking spot in back, but remembered Allie’s high heels and drove around for a few minutes until he found one closer. He pulled into it and shut the car off, but didn’t pull his keys from the ignition right away. He sat there for a few seconds longer, mentally steeling himself.
“So . . . what’s the plan here?” Allie asked.
He turned to look at her. “How do you mean?”
“Do you need me to pretend to be your girlfriend, or am I just an old pal?” She shrugged. “I’m good either way.”
“No, I don’t want to lie. But I guess—maybe we don’t need to volunteer details?”
She laughed and tossed her hair. “I see. So you’re saying there might be a situation in which it would behoove you to have a girlfriend on your arm, but then again, maybe you’d rather be free to pick up chicks?”
“No, it’s not that at all.”
“It’s okay, Jack.” She smiled, and he knew she meant it. “I’ll play it however you want. Maybe we need a cue.”
“A cue?”
“Yeah. Like if we get in there and you want me to play your old buddy, you scratch your chin. And if you want me to play your girlfriend, you—”
“Grab my crotch?”
“Very funny.” Allie grabbed the door handle. “Come on. We’re already thirty minutes late. Better get in there.”
She pushed her door open, and Jack unbuckled his seatbelt, not sure he was ready for this. Not sure he was ready for any of it.
Allie smoothed down the front of her dress, feeling oddly self-conscious. It wasn’t her reunion. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t be judged, though.
She glanced over at Jack, who was looking a little gray. She started to reach for his hand, but remembered they weren’t pulling out the boyfriend-girlfriend card unless he gave the signal. What was the signal again? She started to ask, but Jack grabbed the door handle and yanked it open with surprising force.
“Whoa, there,” she said, jumping back so the door didn’t hit her in the face. “You okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
He let the door fall shut, and Allie pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders. The rain had stopped, but it was still chilly outside. Still, she got the sense Jack wasn’t thrilled to be going inside. “I guess you just seem a little nervous about going in there.”
“Maybe a little,” he admitted.
“How come? You’re wildly successful, you still look hot, you have a great kid.”
He smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Thanks. That was a good pep talk. I needed it.”
She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but he seemed sincere. “What’s it like, anyway?” he asked. “I’ve missed all my other reunions. This will be my first.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Really?”
She shrugged, determined not to get defensive about it. “I got mono right before our ten-year high school reunion, so I couldn’t make it to that.”
Okay, so it wasn’t entirely true, but Jack didn’t need to know the rest of the story. That she’d been embarrassed about dropping out of law school, about breaking her engagement. She’d expected to have kids and a brag-worthy career and a big house in the West Hills, but she hadn’t achieved any of that by the time her reunion came around. It had just seemed easier to skip it.
“Anyway,” she said, “I never bothered with the college reunions, either.”
“How come?”
She shrugged. “Life just turned out differently than I expected.”
“Allie, people’s dreams change all the time.”
“Not mine,” she said, and the words came out with a little more vehemence than she’d intended. “Anyway, there was also that whole business with my parents. I didn’t want to have to answer questions about it.”
“I guess I can understand that.” He glanced at the door, but made no move to reach for it.
“Jack.” She laid a hand on his arm. “We don’t have to go in there if you don’t want.”
“No, I want to,” he said. “Of course, I might prefer shoving bamboo under my fingernails and soaking my hands in grapefruit juice.”
Allie giggled. “Or removing your eyelids with pliers?”
“Definitely preferable. Same with sticking a hot fork in my eye and twisting.”
“Oooh, ouch.” She studied his face, noticing some of the stiffness had started to leave his expression. “How about eating six jars of mayonnaise in one sitting?”
Jack laughed. “Using my toothbrush to clean litter boxes at your B&B.”
“Disgusting.” She grinned at him. “So just out of curiosity, why are you doing this?”
He sighed, seemed to be deciding something. “Does it make me a shallow jerk if I admit it’s because I want everyone to see I turned out well?”
“Nope.” She offered an encouraging smile. “You’re not a shallow jerk. I promise. That’s probably why most people are here.”
“What if I flat out say I kinda want to rub their noses in it?”
“Maybe a little bit of a shallow jerk. It’s okay, though. Your secret’s safe with me.”
He nodded, and the look he gave her was so full of gratitude she thought her heart might burst. “I guess that’s not the whole truth. Honestly, I just want to make sure I can do this.”
“How do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Being around groups of people who knew Caroline—it used to be hard, especially right after she died. I haven’t done it much in the last decade.”
“Oh, Jack—” Allie felt her eyes prick with tears, but she was at a loss for what to say.
“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s been almost ten years. It’s not like I’m still in the depths of grief or anything. It’s just—this is sort of a test, I guess. To make sure I can handle it.”
“I believe in you,” she said. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make it easier.”
He grinned. “You already are. You’re here with me.” Jack took a deep breath and reached for the door again. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
He gestured for her to go ahead of him, so Allie walked through first. The foyer was empty, but Allie could hear the thud of bass so loud she felt it in her head. They followed the sound down a dim corridor, moving together toward the pulsing music. As they reached a doorway, Jack seemed to hesitate.
“You’ve got this,” Allie said.
“Okay.” He didn’t sound convinced, but he moved forward anyway.
They stepped into a dimly lit room packed tight with bodies and the smell of red wine and nervous energy. She felt Jack stiffen beside her, but he was surveying the room, getting the lay of the land.
The space was dotted with tall bistro tables draped with black tablecloths and a single purple iris in a silver vase at the center of each. A bar on the left side of the room already contained a cluster of people laughing a little too loudly. On the other side of the room stood a buffet table adorned with silver trays offering mushroom caps, crudités, charcuterie, and fancy little pastries filled with something that looked like salmon mousse.
Jack started toward the food, but Allie reached out and touched his elbow. “Three o’clock,” she murmured, nodding in that direction. “Someone’s heading this way.”
“Shit,” Jack murmured as the guy drew closer. “I can’t remember his name. Brock or Brent or Brett or—”
“Jack, my man! Good to see you again.” The guy did one of those fancy handshakes only men seemed to know. Some sort of handclasp melded with a shoulder clap and a chest bump. Allie stood back and hoped the guy didn’t notice how forced Jack’s smile looked.
“Good to see you . . . uh, man,” Jack offered. He looked like he needed a lifeline, so Allie threw him one.
“Hi there,” she said, reaching out a hand. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Allison.”
The guy grinned and pumped Allie’s hand. “Bryce. Great to meet you.”
“You, too, Bryce.”
He turned back to Jack, and his expression changed. So did his tone, switching to a timbre that reminded Allie of a late-night DJ counseling a caller on his marital woes. “Listen, I heard about what happened. I just want to say—”
“Wow, are those Swedish meatballs?”
Allie blinked, then followed Jack’s gaze to the buffet table. She looked back at him, perplexed, but willing to play along.
“Yes,” she said, barely missing a beat. “I think they are. Would you like me to get you some?”
“Actually, I’ll go with you.” His voice was tight and a little too fast. “I want a lot of them. Bryce—it was great seeing you again. I hope you don’t mind if I—”
“No, of course,” he said, clapping Jack on the back again. “We’ll talk later. I don’t want to stand between a man and his meat.”
He wandered away, blending back into the crowd. Allie turned to Jack. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get those meatballs.”
They’d taken three steps toward the buffet table when a trio of women approached. The instant they spotted Jack, the one dressed in a silver-sequined gown let out a soft gasp and put her hand over her heart. The other two tilted their heads to the side and gave identical sympathetic headshakes, looking like well-coiffed parrots. One wore a bright-red gown and the other a strappy little number in purple chiffon.
One of the two—whose face seemed frozen by astonishment or Botox—marched forward with such purpose that Allie had to step out of the way to avoid being trampled under the strappy, bloodred Jimmy Choos that matched her dress.
“Jack Carpenter,” she said in a voice that reminded Allie of an audition for the dramatic lead in a high school play. “We were wondering if you’d be here. How are you, honey?”
The woman in purple chiffon was still doing the sympathetic headshake, but Silver Sequins dropped her hand from her heart and put it on Jack’s arm. “We were so sorry to hear about Caroline. How awful that must have been for you.”
“And you have a little girl, too,” Purple Chiffon added, making a sympathetic tsk noise that showed a flash of crimson lipstick on her teeth. “If there’s anything you need—anything at all—”
“Uh, thanks,” Jack said, shooting Allie an imploring look. She tried to read his mind, not sure if he wanted her to introduce herself or fade into the crowd. She watched as Jack reached up to scratch his chin, and she tried to remember which cue that was. Friend or girlfriend? God, why hadn’t they spent more time nailing down the body language?
He seemed to be wrestling with the same question, then reached a conclusion. She watched as his hand dropped to his waist, then slid down for a subtle crotch grab.
She stifled the urge to laugh as she stepped closer to Jack. A look of intense relief crossed his face, and he put his arm around her shoulders like it belonged there.
“Hi, I’m Allie,” she said. “Jack’s girlfriend?”
The three women stared at her. Silver Sequins blinked hard, making her lashes stick together like a pair of mating spiders.
“Oh,” murmured the one with lipstick on her teeth. “Well, my. That’s—that’s wonderful.”
“Absolutely lovely,” Botox added. “I’ve been so worried imagining you all alone, a grieving widower.”
“Nope, I’m doing great!” Jack said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “Business is booming, I’ve launched my own app development firm—”
“And your little girl?”
“Paige is great,” Jack said, shooting Allie a look she couldn’t quite read. For lack of anything better to do, she put her hand on Jack’s ass. Might as well get something out of playing the role. He looked down at her and gave a smile that looked shaky, but genuine.
“Yeah, Paige is ten now,” he continued, sounding more steady. “Doing well in school, and she grew two inches in the last six months.”
Botox went for the heart clutch again, and Allie admired the deliberateness with which she splayed her fingers over her cleavage. “It must be so hard for her without her mother,” she said, and the other two women did the sympathetic tsk again. “I can’t imagine—”
“Actually,” Allie said, snuggling closer to Jack. “We’ve been doing a lot of counseling as a family, and the therapist says Paige is coping wonderfully.”
All three of them eyed Allie, not sure what to make of this outsider interfering with their right to comfort a grieving widower. She’d clearly screwed up their narrative.
“How about you,” Jack tried. “How are things going with all of you?”
“Just great,” Botox said. “But really, Jack—it must be so heartbreaking to lose someone that way. And so young!”
“Right,” he said, and Allie looked up to see him tug on his tie. A faint sheen of sweat dotted his forehead, and she wondered if she should just pull a fire alarm to get them out of here.
Instead, she turned back to the women. Before she could take her own stab at redirecting the conversation, Silver Sequins chimed in.
“Well,” she said, shooting a morose look at Jack. “I know it can take years to get over something like that. The love of your life, the mother of your child—that’s just not something you ever bounce back from.”
“Ever,” echoed Botox, with a pointed look at Allie.
She willed herself not to let the barb sting, and looked to Jack for a cue. He responded by planting a kiss on her forehead.
“Right,” he said. “Actually, Allie and I went to high school together. We were even engaged back when we were—what, eighteen, nineteen?”
“Nineteen,” Allie supplied, wondering if he really didn’t remember or just wanted the moral support of having someone complete his thought.
“Much too young back then,” Jack added. “But we’re older and wiser now.”
“Much wiser,” Allie agreed, wondering if she should take her hand off Jack’s ass at some point.
“I see.” Silver Sequins glanced at the other women for direction on how to proceed. “Well, then. I think I see someone else we need to greet. Ladies?”
Botox touched Jack’s arm again, lingering a little too long before glancing at Allie. “It was very nice to meet you, Hallie.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” Allie managed, thanking her parents for the gift of easy lies. Jack held her tight against him until the women strutted away in search of meatier gossip.
The second they were out of earshot, she slipped out from under Jack’s arm and looked up at him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry.” The sheepish look on his face was a surprise. “I thought having you as my human shield might eliminate that.”
Allie smiled. “I think you underestimated the female need to wrap a grieving widower in the billowy comfort of her bosom.”
