Chapter 9
NINE
Through a break in the curtain, Jane watched Nik climb into his car. For a moment, she was tempted to take it all back and tell him that she couldn’t meet tonight. What had she been thinking, saying yes to a date with Nik Andino?
It’s not a date. He’s just an old friend.
An old friend who’d stood so close, she could feel the heat radiating from him.
Jane closed her eyes. Despite his transformation into a Grey’s Anatomy extra, everything about Nik was achingly familiar. The way he shifted his weight to one foot and stood with his hands in his pockets. The slight tilt of his head, the vulnerability in his eyes. That was her best friend since she was three, the boy who’d once known her better than anyone. The boy who—apparently—could still make her heart rattle in her chest.
This trip to Linden Falls would be the last she’d ever see of Nik Andino. Who could blame her for wanting one more hour with him, even if it was an agonizing one? Still, she should have said no. She should have turned and left the minute he’d pulled the car up instead of standing there, staring at the blue cotton clinging to his muscular chest in sweaty patches. Jane had less than a week to figure out how to disappear, and Scarlett to worry about.
And then Jane’s attention swung from wiping her boots on the entryway mat to the movement on the living room floor. Her heart rattled for a different reason. Thank God Scarlett was still there, putting together her Legos. When Nik had invited Jane for coffee, it was right after she’d spotted Mom peeking out the window. What if Scarlett had appeared there next? Jane had panicked and agreed to go. Better to meet somewhere neutral than have Nik hanging around here.
It would only complicate things to have her daughter interacting with people from her old life in Linden Falls. Scarlett knew they had left Matteo and wouldn’t be going back—Jane could never keep something that important from her—but she was only a child. What if she slipped and told someone their plan? What if she mentioned Canada? Jane’s entire future hinged on Matteo having no idea where to look for them.
Jane had hoped that she could keep Scarlett entirely hidden from the people of this town. A busybody like Mrs. Swanson would probably take perverse pleasure in giving them away when Matteo came poking around. And as for Nik…
She should have considered Nik before she came back to Linden Falls.
When Mom had called to say that Dad had died and asked her to come home to help sort his things, Jane felt like the universe had handed her an incredible gift. It was the chance she’d been searching for and had almost despaired of ever finding. And it had all worked out perfectly… until she ran into Nik in Ford’s General Store. It had never occurred to her that he might still live in this town, but she should have known better.
Nik could never know about Matteo, or Scarlett, or anything about her life in LA. The chances were too great that he’d ask questions, that he wouldn’t be satisfied with vague answers and attempts to change the subject. There was that moment in Ford’s yesterday when he’d taken her chin in his hand to get a better look at her bruised and battered cheek. She’d sensed his concern and had known he suspected there was more to her story than an accident with a cabinet.
If Nik ever knew how much more to the story there really was, would he want to get involved? Outside on the sidewalk, he’d seen her struggling and taken the snow shovel from her. Last night in Ford’s he’d immediately offered to carry Mrs. Swanson’s packages. Nik had been a volunteer emergency medical technician, and now he was a doctor. He was the kind of guy who stepped in to help. She’d always loved that about him.
But there was no helping her out of this situation. Jane had to do that on her own.
She kicked off her snow boots as Mom came down the hall to greet her.
“Was that Nik?”
“Yeah.” The remaining bits of snow on her boots landed on the wood floor and started to melt. Jane focused on the mess, using her foot to nudge the doormat over the boards to soak up the puddles. “Sorry.”
Mom didn’t even glance at the floor. “What did he want?”
Jane pulled off the coat she was wearing. It had looked warmer than the jacket she’d brought from LA, so when she’d headed out to do the shoveling, she’d grabbed it off the hook. The minute she’d slipped it on, Jane had realized it was Dad’s old coat. The stale scent of burned tobacco had wafted around her, reminding her of Dad, of Matteo, of the smoke that used to seep into their apartment from the club below. When she’d reached her hand into the pocket, it had closed around the crumpled cellophane of a half-used pack of Marlboros. Jane had shoved the cigarettes deeper into the folds of the coat with a shudder .
“Jane?” Mom prompted. “What did Nik say?”
“He just…” Jane lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Wanted to say hello.”
“Well, that was nice of him, especially after all this time. He took it hard when you left.”
Jane’s head swung in Mom’s direction. How could she know that? Were she and Mrs. Andino talking again?
When Mrs. Andino had started cleaning houses to pay the bills after her husband passed, Mom had convinced Dad to hire her. If the leaders of this town support a struggling family, others will follow. Dad had cherished his reputation as the town’s protector and all-around good guy, so he’d agreed. Mrs. Andino had started coming once a week to clean the house. She’d bring Nik to hang out with Jane, and after her work was done, she’d sit in the living room drinking tea and talking with Mom.
As the police chief’s wife, Mom was friendly with everyone in town, but Helen Andino had been the first and only real friend Jane could remember her having. And those Tuesday afternoons had been the first time she’d seen Mom smile, relax… even laugh. Looking back as an adult who understood a little bit about loneliness and isolation, Jane could imagine what a relief it must have been to finally make a real connection with someone.
And then one day, maybe a year later, Dad had come home early and found the two women giggling on the couch. Jane could still remember the way the entire house had suddenly filled with tension. Mom’s spine stiffened and her laughter died in her throat, and Mrs. Andino immediately began gathering up the mugs and plates to carry into the kitchen. That night, over dinner, Dad had asked Mom when she was going to start cleaning the house herself again. How long are we supposed to support that family?
“Just a little longer,” Mom had insisted. “ I can’t fire her on the anniversary of her husband’s death. It won’t look good to the rest of the town.”
Dad had just grunted and gone back to his potatoes.
The next Tuesday, one of Mom’s gold necklaces had gone missing. Dad had discovered that it wasn’t hanging on her jewelry stand when he went upstairs to bed that night. “It was here this morning,” he’d grumbled. “Helen must have taken it.”
It had been easy for him to get rid of Mrs. Andino after that.
Jane wasn’t aware that Mom and Mrs. Andino had talked in years, outside of exchanging polite hellos around town. “How do you know Nik took it hard when I left?”
“He used to approach me at the grocery store and ask about you.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “What did you tell him?”
“I never told him much. I didn’t know much.” Mom hesitated now, as if she were weighing whether to say the next thing. “After Dad died, Nik stopped by a few times, just to check in and see if I needed anything.”
Jane’s heart pitched. Of course he had.
“I’m sure that had more to do with you than it did with me,” Mom mused. “That boy never got over you.”
Jane gave her a long stare. Mom had been there the day it had all come crashing down. She knew what had happened with Nik, and she knew what Dad had done. And she hadn’t done anything to stop it from happening.
But that was a decade ago.
“Of course he got over me.” Jane tossed her scarf on the bench. “I mean, you’ve seen him around.” She pictured that patch of golden skin exposed by the V-neck of his shirt, and the way the lines of his muscles had contracted when he tossed the snow shovel aside. “Nik probably has people of all genders throwing themselves at him.” Jane bit her lip. “He probably has a girlfriend.”
Mom nodded. “Oh, I’m sure he does. ”
Jane hated the way that simple sentence seemed to stab her straight in the heart. Did Nik say he has a girlfriend? Well, if he did, and if it hurt to hear, it was Jane’s own fault for bringing it up.
“But that doesn’t mean he ever got over you,” Mom continued.
“Who’s Nik?”
Jane whirled around to find Scarlett standing in the doorway of the living room. When Jane was Scarlett’s age, Nik had been the most important person in her life. Jane had been sure she was going to marry him. Hell, almost ten years later, she’d still been sure she’d marry Nik. And now, ten years after that… “He’s nobody.”
Mom cleared her throat, giving Jane a stern look. “That’s not a very nice thing to say.”
Jane sighed. “He’s not nobody. He’s an old friend from when I was a kid. He stopped by to say hi.”
“Your mom and Nik were the best of friends. They were so inseparable, they used to finish each other’s sentences. And then when they got older, I’m pretty sure they spent every single day together after school.”
Mom didn’t mention the part about how Jane had always gone to the Andinos’ because she didn’t want Dad to come home early and find Nik at their house. Just in case Dad tried to drive Nik away—the same way he’d done to Mrs. Andino.
Jane used to leave Nik’s house and hurry home each evening before Dad got off work, making sure she was in her room studying before his patrol car pulled into the drive. She’d brace herself, listening for signs of his mood. If he rapped on her door to say hello, it meant he’d had a good day. If he went in the kitchen to yell at Mom… not so good.
But none of that was something Scarlett needed to know about. She had her own experiences of tiptoeing around someone else’s moods .
“Was Nik your boyfriend?” Scarlett asked.
Jane felt her face flame, even all these years later, at the memory of Nik’s mouth on her neck, his hands sliding across her heated skin. “No. Just friends,” she said, in a quieter voice.
“So, Daddy was your only boyfriend?”
Jane hesitated. Though she’d been with Matteo for a decade, and they’d never married— thank God —it sounded odd to call him her boyfriend. At Scarlett’s age, Jane had imagined that a boyfriend would hold her hand, take her out on a date, buy her flowers. Matteo had done some of those things, at first. But it was hard to remember them now. “I guess you could say that.”
“Were you and Daddy inseparable?” Scarlett asked. “Did you finish each other’s sentences?” She looked down at the Ken and Barbie Legos in her hand, her face shining and hopeful. “Were you in love?”