He turned and found his little sister Bridget sitting on a chair across the deck. “Mom called you too?” He crossed the length of the deck and sat on the chair beside her.

  “She wasn’t sure when you’d get here.”

  “Why is he cleaning?”

  Bridget rolled her eyes. “He rescheduled the Labor Day barbecue for this weekend.”

  “What?” Luke groaned and glanced over at his father. They’d had to cancel their annual barbecue last week when Dad had experienced chest pains that Mom had been sure was another heart attack but had turned out to be heartburn.

  “He said, and I quote, ‘I’m not letting a little gas get in the way of a tradition.’”

  “Yeah, that sounds like him.” Their father had one rule: never be the first to break a tradition. Okay, two rules—the second: never leave a fire unsupervised.

  “Mom’s running around, buying the paper goods and groceries.” She paused and then nodded toward their father. “He’s doing okay, you know. This is good for him, getting some exercise.”

  Luke nodded. “I know. I just don’t want him to get tired. He needs rest.”

  “Mom practically kept him chained to the couch since he went to the emergency room last week,” Bridget said. “Besides, if he so much as yawns, I think there’ll be a race between you and me to reach him first. I’ll win, of course.”

  “As if.” Luke threw an arm around her neck in a choke hold. “How’re you going to keep up when you spend all day lazing about in a car, waiting for speeders?”

  Bridget elbowed him in the ribs. “Nice description of my job. How about you? Rescue any cats from trees lately?”

  Luke grinned as Bridget squirmed to get out of his hold, a childhood habit they’d never been able to break. In addition to a playful sibling rivalry, they shared a professional rivalry, especially since Bridget had forsaken the family business to become a policewoman.

  “So,” Bridget said casually when she’d freed herself, “I heard you almost got married.”

  “Excuse me?” He groaned as he realized what she was talking about. “Did you talk to Olivia?” His ex-wife was still close to his family, particularly Bridget. Still, Olivia didn’t usually gossip. No, she generally kept her feelings to herself. Like how she wanted out of their marriage and then simply moved out one day instead of talking to him about it.

  “Not Olivia. Eli.”

  Of course. Eli was at that age where he was repeating everything he saw or heard. “What did he tell you?”

  “Just that Daddy was on top of a bride. Eli thought you were going to marry her, but he came over early, so you didn’t have a chance.” By the time she finished, she was cracking up.

  He dropped his head back, mentally kicking himself for letting his son see that. Eli was the most important person in the world to him. Luke never wanted him to think he was being replaced. “I thought he understood my explanation.”

  “What, that you weren’t buying that particular cow? Not when you could get the milk for free? Who was she, anyway?”

  Eli hadn’t told her, nor apparently had Olivia. For a brief moment, Luke considered lying. Bridget had been nearly as heartbroken as Luke when Jenna had left town. Six years younger, Bridget had followed them around like an overeager puppy. At twelve, she hadn’t understood why Jenna had disappeared one day and never talked to her again. Disappointment had turned to bitterness over the years. She wouldn’t be happy that Luke had let his dick override common sense.

  “Well?” Bridget prompted.

  “You don’t know her.” If Olivia or Eli spilled the beans, he’d handle the consequences later.

  “Come on! You at least have to explain the wedding dress.”

  Luke shrugged. “No story to tell. She’s not someone I’ll ever see again.”

  …

  “Are you finished with the closet?”

  Jenna lifted her head and looked at her brother. “Almost. Just one more box.”

  Tanner nodded. “I’m going to take another load down to the car.”

  As Tanner left, Jenna taped together another moving box and pushed back tears threatening to swell. For a few days, she’d thought she’d be okay, that she’d be able to live off her personal savings account and income from the restaurant. Then the bills started arriving. She’d never been the one to handle payments, and to her shock, she and Hal were in major credit card debt. Six cards were nearly maxed out. And that was in addition to the invoices coming in from the wedding. The caterers, florist, band—all were demanding payment in full. She couldn’t even afford a minimum payment.

  Just when she thought she’d hit rock bottom, her landlord informed her that Hal had been behind on their rent for several months, to the point where the building owner had already started the eviction process.

  Jenna had no choice but to move. Not only because she owed the landlord so much money, but she’d realized there was no way she could afford the rent on her own. She’d never thought, though, that she’d have to move back home with her father.

  Tanner had come over to help her pack and move. She wished she could have stayed with him until she was back on her feet but, despite being a successful computer programmer, Tanner lived in a rundown studio apartment in a questionable area. She’d always found the difference in the way they approached money remarkable. Jenna needed to surround herself with designer labels and high-end items to remind herself she was (or at least had been) financially secure. Tanner, on the other hand, could squeeze a nickel until it begged for mercy, always afraid that if he spent anything, he’d end up with nothing.

  She took the last few shirts that were hanging and folded them carefully, taking the time to run her fingers down the silk. When she’d been young, her clothes had come exclusively from the church thrift store. Embarrassed, she’d go into high-end stores and pretend to try on clothes, only to cut out the labels in the dressing room and sew them into her actual clothes. She could still remember the first designer dress she’d purchased, how proud she’d felt walking to the cash register knowing she’d earned the money to pay for it. The memory felt like a stab in the chest, and she quickly taped the box shut.

  By the time Tanner came back, she was ready to go. All she had were her personal items; the landlord had agreed to take the furniture in partial payment for some of the money Jenna owed him.

  Climbing into a ten-year-old pickup she’d borrowed from her father (since Hal’s Mercedes had been impounded), they headed to Schaumburg. The cityscape dimmed in her rearview mirror until she could no longer see the Chicago skyline.

  She needed to get her mind off her destination. Glancing over at her brother, she asked, “Did you know Luke had a wife and kid?”

  “Ex-wife,” Tanner corrected. “Yeah, I knew.”

  She leaned over the middle console and smacked him on the arm.

  “Ouch,” he howled, even though there was no way she could have hurt him. “Why do you care? You’re the one who forbid Luke’s name to ever be mentioned within a ten-mile radius of your ears. We were just abiding by your wishes.”

  “We?” Jenna sagged against the wheel. “You all knew?”

  Tanner shot her a look of pity. “We all went to the wedding.”

  Of course they did. Because their families had been neighbors and friends forever. Somehow, when Jenna had put a moratorium on Luke-related news, she’d figured their friendship had slowed to the occasional neighborhood block party or chatting when they’d passed each other on the street. She wondered what else she’d missed over the last fifteen years. More than just the births of her nieces and nephews, for sure. She’d never taken a trip home in the eleven years she lived abroad, choosing instead to communicate through impersonal emails and a monthly phone call to her father. At first it had been out of necessity—she’d been more homesick than she could admit. Later, cutting herself off from her family had been a matter of pride. She hadn’t wanted them to know the direction her life had taken, the failure she’d become. She wished they didn’t have to know now.

  Her stomach pitched uncomfortably as they reached a neighborhood of middle- and lower-middle-class homes. Jenna pulled into the driveway of her father’s small, two-story house. It hadn’t changed much since she’d moved out at eighteen. White, rusty siding, shingles with peeling green paint, crumbling concrete steps. A familiar guilt bubbled within her as her father met them at the door. While she’d been mortified by where she came from, her father had always done everything possible to make sure she knew she was loved.

  “Angel,” her dad said, sweeping her into his arms. Years of working construction had created a solid physique and, even at the age of sixty-five, his grip was as strong as iron.

  She hugged him back tightly, letting him soothe away her burdens for a moment. But this was the only comfort she could ask him for. Throughout all the tough years of her childhood, he’d always kept a smile on his face, always tried to make her believe everything would be okay. Now, she would do the same.

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I promise I won’t be here long.”

  “You know you can stay as long as you need to,” he told her.

  “I know. But this is just temporary, until I get back on my feet.” It couldn’t come soon enough for her. This uncertainty she was living in was making her crave carbs. She needed to find a second job to help pay down her debts so she could afford to move back to the city. It shouldn’t be a problem, she decided. With her restaurant experience, a new position should be a snap.

  …

  She hit a snag with the second job.

  Turns out, not many businesses were interested in hiring a former model/restaurant manager without a college degree. In an act of desperation, she’d even stopped to fill out an application at a fast-food joint, only to be told by a pimply faced manager nearly half her age that she didn’t have enough experience working a cash register.

  Getting a second job had been her first step to regaining some of what she’d lost. Sure, she’d still need to make other cuts, but she could use the second income to work off the debts while she supported herself with her salary from Sweet Home.

  Stupidly, she’d assumed she could easily find another restaurant management job, maybe something open for breakfast and lunch, since Sweet Home was only open for dinner. But everywhere she looked, the hours overlapped. She couldn’t admit to Ty and Ashton how much she needed the second job, nor could she shirk on her duties. And none of the other restaurants were interested in a manager who had to leave early.

  It seemed the best she could do was to find odd jobs that she could perform around her schedule. And even that was difficult, given her apparent lack of practical skills.

  This might be something, she mused as she scanned Craig’s List one Sunday morning. An attorney was looking for people to act as process servers. The pay was decent, the hours flexible, and it sounded simple enough. How hard could it be to deliver a piece of paper? She wrote down the phone number to call the next day.

  “Jenna,” her father shouted from downstairs, “Tanner’s here.”

  Tanner visited her father every Sunday. A wave of shame hit her as she thought about all the times she and Hal had said they were coming to visit only to cancel at the last minute. It wasn’t just Hal’s fault, she admitted; she, too, had hated being reminded where she’d come from.

  Logging off the computer, she took a break from the depressing job search and bounded down the stairs to the living room.

  They chatted for a while about Tanner’s job and her dad being hired to work on a new house being constructed a few streets away. Jenna wished her father had enough money to retire. At his age, she worried about his health, especially since his job was physical and demanding. But she was glad to hear her brother Cliff had been hired as the electrician and would be around to keep an eye on him.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Her dad smacked himself on the forehead. He reached for the pile of envelopes on the table beside him and flipped through them. Then he handed one to Jenna. “This came for you.”

  Jenna frowned, glancing at the return address. Schaumburg Central High School. Why was her old high school contacting her? She tore open the envelope, pulled out the paper, and read as her mouth fell open.

  “What is it?” Tanner asked.

  I don’t believe this. Jenna blinked several times, sure she must have read wrong. Nope. There it was, in black and white. “The school is checking on the progress of the fifteen year reunion. Apparently, as the senior prom queen, I’m responsible for planning it.” She took a deep breath. “With the prom king.”

  She and Luke had won in a landslide. They’d both been popular, the “it” couple of Central. She, the teen model who’d been on the cover of Seventeen magazine. Luke, a star athlete on the hockey and lacrosse teams. Everyone had assumed they’d get married when they graduated. Instead, Jenna had left the country the day after the ceremony.

  “Forget it,” Jenna muttered, crumbling the letter. “I’m not going to the reunion, let alone planning it.”

  “It’ll be good for you,” Ben argued. “Give you something to focus your attention on. And it might be fun.”

  She lifted her brows. “Fun? Going to the reunion by myself, having to explain what happened to my fiancé?”

  “You don’t have to go alone,” Tanner pointed out. “You can go with Luke.”

  “Are you kidding?” Jenna glared at her brother. “I’m not doing anything with Luke. The school can find someone else to plan the reunion.”

  “But when you put that crown on your head, you made a promise to plan the fifteen year reunion,” Tanner said. His serious tone was betrayed by the laughter he could barely contain.

  “Shouldn’t this be the job of the student council president?”

  “The ten year reunion was. You’re supposed to switch off. Guess you didn’t read the fine print when you ran for prom queen.” Tanner was full-out grinning now.

  “Thank you very much, Mr. Parliamentarian.” She snatched the crumbled letter and wrenched it back open. “The reunion is…Thanksgiving week! That’s just three months away!”

  Jenna’s father cleared his throat. “A few letters might have come earlier. I may have forgotten to give them to you.”

  “Dad!”

  “It’s not like you come out here much. I’m sorry, angel. But you shouldn’t have any trouble. You did a beautiful job on the wedding.”

  Her father paled and his eyes widened. An uncomfortable silence filled the room. “I shouldn’t have brought that up,” he apologized after a moment.

  “That’s okay,” she said quietly.

  When Tanner’s phone beeped, it was a welcome relief from the awkward cloud that had fallen over them. He pulled his cell out of his pocket. “It’s a text from Cliff. He wants to know where we are.”

  Jenna looked between her brother and father, whom she caught mid-gulp. “I told him I wasn’t going,” her dad grumbled.

  “Where?” Jenna asked.

  “The Kearneys’ house,” Tanner answered. “They’re having a barbecue today.”

  “We’re not going,” her father hastened to assure her. “I told Pat and Colleen I wouldn’t be there because you’re staying with me. They understand.”

  “Well, I’m going.” Tanner crossed his arms over his chest. “Cliff, Diane, and the kids are already there. Besides, I’m starving, and Mrs. Kearney makes the best potato salad on the block.”

  Jenna smacked him on the arm. “Thanks for the loyalty.”

  “It’s been fifteen years,” Tanner retorted. “Get over it.”

  “You could talk to Luke about the reunion,” her dad suggested, a hopeful light in his eyes since the mention of the potato salad.

  Had her family been taking crazy juice? Why, when she’d avoided Luke for fifteen years, did they think she’d be interested in hanging out with him at a barbecue? Okay, not quite fifteen years, but they didn’t know that. And she certainly wasn’t going to admit what had happened the day of her non-wedding or a few months before that.

  “You shouldn’t have to do all the work by yourself,” her father added. “It’s a lot to handle.”

  He was right about that. Planning a reunion would be time consuming, and she was already behind. If she found another job, she’d have even less time. The least Luke could do was split half the work with her.

  “Fine,” she said curtly as she rose. “Let’s go to the Kearneys’. But I’m leaving as soon as I talk to Luke.”

  Chapter Five

  About twenty-five friends and neighbors crowded the backyard of Luke’s parents’ house. Several grills had been set up, and smoke filled with the scent of hamburger patties and brats wafted in the air. Luke grabbed a beer from the cooler, keeping one eye on his father. Patrick Kearney, self-proclaimed king of the grill, was keeping court as he flipped burgers. To most onlookers, he appeared relaxed, but Luke could see in his dad’s eyes the toll his recent health problem was taking on him. Not that the man would ever admit it. He’d practically fallen over in horror when Luke had suggested that he take over grilling duties today. Luke had backed down, knowing his father wanted to maintain as much normalcy as possible, but he was ready to jump in if needed.

  “You’re hovering,” Bridget scolded as she came up beside him. “He’s already got Mom for that.”

  Luke glanced across the lawn to where his mother was greeting incoming guests. Sure enough, she’d angled herself so she could talk to people while still having a direct view to her husband. “I know¸ but…”

  “You can’t help it,” Bridget finished. “I feel the same way. But there are half a dozen paramedics here, including you, so I think we’re safe on that front. If he so much as breathes heavy, he’ll have six pairs of hands trying to put an oxygen mask on him.”

  “Seven,” he corrected, knowing that Bridget would be the first at her father’s side if anything happened. Some of the tension in his neck eased.

  “It’s been a long time.” Luke heard his mother greet someone behind them, her tone unusually icy.

 

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